Porphyria's Lover
The rain set early in tonight, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, and did its worst to vex the lake: I listened with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneeled and made the cheerless grate Blaze up, and all the cottage warm; Which done, she rose, and from her form Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl, And laid her soiled gloves by, untied Her hat and let the damp hair fall, And, last, she sat down by my side And called me. When no voice replied, She put my arm about her waist, And made her smooth white shoulder bare, And all her yellow hair displaced, And, stooping, made my cheek lie there, And spread, o’er all, her yellow hair, Murmuring how she loved me—she Too weak, for all her heart’s endeavor, To set its struggling passion free From pride, and vainer ties dissever, And give herself to me forever. But passion sometimes would prevail, Nor could tonight’s gay feast restrain A sudden thought of one so pale For love of her, and all in vain: So, she was come through wind and rain. Be sure I looked up at her eyes Happy and proud; at last I knew Porphyria worshiped me: surprise Made my heart swell, and still it grew While I debated what to do. That moment she was mine, mine, fair, Perfectly pure and good: I found A thing to do, and all her hair In one long yellow string I wound Three times her little throat around, And strangled her. No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain. As a shut bud that holds a bee, I warily opened her lids: again Laughed the blue eyes without a stain. And I untightened next the tress About her neck; her cheek once more Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss: I propped her head up as before Only, this time my shoulder bore Her head, which droops upon it still: The smiling rosy little head, So glad it has its utmost will, That all it scorned at once is fled, And I, its love, am gained instead! Porphyria’s love: she guessed not how Her darling one wish would be heard. And thus we sit together now, And all night long we have not stirred, And yet God has not said a word! |
The poem is in the voice of Porphyria's love, who is the persona speaking throughout the poem. There is personification of the wind and it is described as sulking and hateful. He listened with his heart on the urge of breaking. The weather is imitating how he's feeling and what is happening. It may also be foreshadowing the danger that is to come. (Pathetic fallacy) Her presence brings warmth, shows his affection towards her. She comes in lights the grate and makes the cottage cosy, this shows how he is dependent on her. Language is used to make her undressing sensual as in the Victorian Era, explicit and raunchy details in the poem were thought to be immoral. This is the picture of rural simplicity—a cottage by a lake, a rosy-cheeked girl, a roaring fire. However, once Porphyria begins to take off her wet clothing, the poem leaps into the modern world. She bares her shoulder to her lover and begins to caress him; this is a level of overt sexuality that has not been seen in poetry since the Renaissance. We then learn that Porphyria is defying her family and friends to be with the speaker, this raises the issue of sex outside of wedlock, which was frowned upon in Victorian Society. However the newspapers of the day revelled in stories about prostitutes and unwed mother so the constant over-stimulation and newspapers full of scandalous and horrifying stories, immunized people to the shock to sex and scandal. Constant exposure on the senses could be counteracted only with an even greater shock to have an impact on the readers. This is the principle Browning adheres to in “Porphyria’s Lover.” In light of contemporary scandals, the sexual transgression might seem common; so Browning breaks through his reader’s expectancy by having Porphyria’s lover murder her; and thus he provokes some moral or emotional reaction in his presumably numb audience. Robert Browning questions why does society see both sex and violence as transgressive? What is the relationship between the two? Which is “worse”? These are some of the questions that Browning’s poetry posits. And he typically does not offer any answers to them: Browning is no moralist, although he is no libertine either. As a fairly liberal man, he is confused by his society’s simultaneous embrace of both moral righteousness and a desire for sensation; “Porphyria’s Lover” explores this contradiction. Characterisation The voice is of Porphyria's lover. Due to the fact that he doesn't have a name. he doesnt have his own identity, his obsession with her is his identity. Pathetic fallacy- the weather is reflecting how he feels inside and the sort of person he is, his mental state of mind - "I listened with heart fit to break" He seems disturbed, depressed prior to the events He is dependent on her as he relies on her to bring warmth and light the fire and amke the palce homely He is alone and isolated so he only focuses on her Porphyria is a disease with the symptons of mental disturbance This is a inference of his character -Love is a disease He's insecure and apranoid because he knows she loves him but he is still trying to think of what to do to keepe her forever. He's insane - he thinks by killing her he can keep her forever He's delusional and obvlious to her pain as he claims she felt no pain. |