The Last of The Romantics - An Introduction To The Symbolism of William Butler Yeats
The Last of The Romantics - An Introduction To The Symbolism of William Butler Yeats
The Last of The Romantics - An Introduction To The Symbolism of William Butler Yeats
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extend access to The Sewanee Review
By HIRAM HAYDN
Ill
In The Death of Synge, Yeats declares, "I think that all hap
piness depends on the energy to assume the mask of some other
self; that all joyous or creative life is a re-birth as something not
oneself, something which has no memory and is created in a mo
ment and perpetually renewed."
This statement is perhaps the locus classicus for his theory of
the Mask, or Daemon, which each individual must find if he is
to attain complete fulfillment. As he says in Dramatis Personae,
"If we cannot imagine ourselves as different from what we are
and assume that second self, we cannot impose a discipline upon
ourselves, though we may accept it from others."
Necessarily, those others who will perform such a service for
us are rare. "True love," he maintains in Estrangement (ex
tracts from a diary kept in 1909), "is a discipline. . . . Each di
vines the secret self of the other, and refusing to believe in the
mere daily self, creates a mirror where the lover or the beloved
sees an image to copy in daily life; for love also creates the
Mask."3
However, the artist must find his Mask for himself, usually
in the antithesis of himself. Further light is thrown upon Hie
and Ille by this declaration. Ille, aware of its truth, is "seeking
her, "eternal beauty wandering on her way ... in all poor fool
ish things that live a day."
So much compression here increases an already sufficient com
plexity. But the major issues are clear enough. The love of
the Rose, Intellectual Beauty, is "the perception of beauty in
thought and things" ("The Philosophy of Shelley's Poetry"),
and is therefore inimical to the love of the Cross, "objective,
sorrowful pity." The Rose opposes the multiplicity of its "re
ligion" to the unity which the Cross symbolizes. It represents
the point of view, in Boehme's words, that "The Hunger of the
Soul must be turned to the source of eternal joy. . . . Heaven
is Nature filled with divine Life attracted by Desire. Life be
hind, rather than above the life of sense," and thus once more
opposes the Cross, the symbol of renunciation. The Rose is sad
with intellectual despair, the Cross with "primary" pity.
One could go on and on but the point should be clear, and
incidentally the long tradition behind Yeats. Besides Boehme,
there is the Symposium: "Love's work is to bring to birth the
children of Beauty, whether of body or soul." Blake, according
to Yeats, believed that "nothing is pleasing to God except the
glad invention of beautiful and exalted things": "Go, put off
holiness and put on intellect." (Yeats, as editor, points out that
"intellect" here equals "imagination.")
For Yeats himself clarifies his enthusiasm for his favorite
poets by interpreting their positions in this struggle of the Rose
and the Cross. Of Spenser he says, "His religion, where the
paganism that is natural to proud and happy people had been
strengthened by the platonism of the Renaissance, cherished the
beauty of the soul and the beauty of the body with, as it seemed,
an equal affection." And of William Morris: "The early Chris
tians were of the kin of the Wilderness and of the Dry Tree,
and they saw an unearthly Paradise, but he was of the kin of the
Well and of the Green Tree and he sawr an Earthly Paradise."
Finally, the Rosicrucian symbol has obviously influenced
The Rose here is not only the symbol of one of the warring
elements, but also colors the reconciliation, which?like the bat
tle?takes place in that "Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the
World."
Yeats also associates the Rose with the godhead in those places
where he pictures a less idyllic final scene. In "Out of the
Rose," for example, the old knight prays to the setting sun: "O
Divine Rose of Intellectual Flame, let the gates of thy peace
be opened to me at last." Since this story predicates the general
consumption in "intellectual fire" of "all that which is not God,"
and only those who die in the service of God before this holocaust
will be gathered to the final Nothingness of God, it becomes ap
parent that this Rose is identical with God. It is the equivalent
of Boehme's "magic fire-spirit, the Soul, [which] cannot perish
because it is an eternal Essence," and of the Incorruptible Fire
and Incorruptible Rose of the Alchemists. Such an absorption
into the Godhead also bears a direct relationship to similar con
cepts in neo-Platonic writings and points the way to Yeats's
eventual concern with the Ved?nta.
We must put out the whole world as I put out this candle
We must put out the light of the stars and the light of the
sun and the light of the moon, till we have brought every
thing to nothing once again. I saw in a broken vision, bu
now all is clear to me. Where there is nothing, wher
there is nothing?there is God!
With this poem Yeats arouses the suspicion that, as the Magi,
in his poem of that name, unsatisfied "by Calvary's turbulence,"
hope to find once more "the uncontrollable mystery on the bestial
floor," so he too anticipates a balancing of the Objective Christian
era with one closer to his heart. If reconciliation is only to come
with the final Nothingness of God, it may be at least that, in
the unending warfare, one side succeeds the other in cycles of
predominance.5
Reading back with this in mind, one finds a profusion of hints.
In "The Celtic Element in Literature," for example, Yeats at
tributes to Verhaeren the idea that "the arts, brooding on their
V
What, then, may already be said with any certainty ab
Yeats's "system"? First, I believe, that it is a gigantic tou
force, fashioned of his conviction of the need of a comprehen
"mythology" with which to combat the world pictures of Ch
tianity and science.9 I do not mean to imply by "tour de for
either insincerity or the willful concoction of purely arbitra
dreams. But I do mean that Yeats, equipped with as hi
formal and elaborate a mind as Dante or Milton, was not
fortunate enough to find at hand an official religion?a wi
acknowledged and acceptable "mythology"?for which he m
become the spokesman.10
The two immediately obvious world pictures available?t
of the Christian church and that of Science?were equally unc
genial to Yeats. He rejected what was to him the hard-he
positivism of the second as thoroughly as he did what he