In the opening book of Paradise Lost, of which I am ashamed to say I have almost no background knowledge, I was struck by the nature of the poem’s opening, after the “Argument” but before the beginning of the narrative about the banished Satan. There is not exactly a prologue, but Milton (if we can assume that the speaker of the poem is some form of Milton himself) calls upon superior powers (the Holy Spirit) for one to assist him in presenting the poem, which he feels will “justify the ways of God to men.” Milton seems to be aware even here of the influence his poem will have. “O Spirit…Instruct me, for thou know’st, thou from the first was present”: It is as though Milton, by invoking God and godly forces, is about to divulge a sacred text, that he, like the scribes of the Bible, is merely the mouthpiece for the word of God. His opening deems his task in writing this poem “things unattempted in prose or rhyme.” But even from the first book of the poem, which ascribes emotion, personality, and dimension to Satan where the Bible does not. Milton might be calling on the Holy Spirit and borrowing from the Bible but his story is not regurgitation but rather reexamination–and retelling from another, more involved vantage point. I might thereby suppose that his poem is response to a biblical story that is intended to be, and perhaps by Milton believed to be, as important as the story itself.
Very good–yes, one of the things that is complicated about this poem is that he asserts a kind of divine inspiration–as though he is a prophet divulging a sacred text, a little like Moses.
In Cantos 11, I was most struck by the allegory of the Dragon in contrast to Redcrosse. I think it is the strongest scene where Redcrosse allegorically represents Christ overcoming the sins of hell and the underworld. Firstly, the repetition of the Dragon defeating Redcrosse and then him returning the next day, with his health fully restored parallels Christ and his resurrection. More specifically the “well of life” evokes imagery of baptism and therefore spiritual rebirth after he burned in his armor, which one could argue parallels Christ being punished or “burned” for the sins of all mankind. Additionally, some have interpreted that the tree that restores Redcrosse’s strength after his second failure represents the Holy Communion, again evoking themes of spiritual absolution for sins from the body of Christ. The Dragon allegorically represents the underworld, hell, and all sin and his jaws are even explicitly referred to as, “like that grisly mouth of hell.” The allegory of Redcrosse (or Christ) defeating the Dragon (or sin) contributes to Spenser’s overarching point of the poem, in the sense that Redcrosse could not have defeated the Dragon on his own. He needed those two magical aids, the well and the tree, or else he would not have succeeded; he needed God’s will. The narrator blatantly recognizes this when they state, “it chaunst (eternall God that chaunce did guide)” before the knight stumbles into the tree. Thus this battle between Redcrosse and the Dragon climaxes Spenser’s argument that Christian’s cannot find have worldly or spiritual success and thus find ultimate truth without God.
Excellent–this is exactly right. The battle shows RC overcoming sin in various forms–most obviously pride–but only able to do so with Christ’s help. He repeatedly “falls” and is generally unheroic without this divine aid.
When I came upon stanza six in Canto Twelve, I had a hard time figuring out how the allegory was functioning. In this scene, the people who Red Cross has freed from the rule of the dragon bow before him and throw laurels at his feet. I found this entire episode odd, in that it seemed to be endorsing a sort of idolatry and celebration of worldly glory. The episode would be understandable in the context of just the literal story, since it makes sense that they would be grateful to Red Cross, but in the allegory the sequence seems a bit problematic. The description of Red Cross’ fight with the dragon makes it pretty clear that God is assisting the knight, and therefore God deserves the glory. None of the praise goes to God, however, and it is all heaped on the knight. The townspeople worship Red Cross like a god, which would be fine, allegorically speaking, if that were what he had represented throughout. During the story, however, Red Cross’ actions have been decidedly mortal and bound by error.
It seems to me that, in this moment of inconsistency, Spenser’s allegory breaks down a little. Here we can see some of the difficulty of writing allegory. Two competing tensions fight for control of the text: the literal world of the story, and the allegorical message the author is trying to send. Devoting energy to one can pull it away from the other. At this point, I think Spenser privileges the literal story over the allegory, or else is enacting a dramatic transformation that I was not prepared for.
Good questions. If RC functions here partly as a Christ figure, and there are indications that he does, perhaps some of the oddness that you notice can be resolved–there are echoes of Christ’s entry into Jerusalem in the stanza you mention. At the same time, it’s clear that RC is ALSO a regular flawed mortal, and perhaps this is where the allegory gets tricky.
A question that struck me in reading Cantos XI and XII concerns the figure of the dragon. I analyzed the dragon in Beowolf in a recent essay, and I see many similarities in how the dragon fits into the narrative. So, what does the dragon in The Faerie Queene represent?
Like the dragon in Beowolf, I read this dragon as an emanation of the fears and anxieties of Redcross and Una, and more broadly, the people of England during the time Spenser wrote this series. The dragon is described as a “feend” (174)—“swoln with wrath, and poyson, and with bloody gore” (177). So, the dragon can represent a psychically imposing threat—the Spanish, perhaps, because the defeat of the Spanish Armada was a monumental victory for Queen Elizabeth.
Spenser also writes of the dragon that “all the hevens stood still amazed with his threat” (177). This connection between the dragon and heaven immediately makes me think of the dragon as not only a physical but also a spiritual force. The dragon is a mythological creature, and therefore its metaphysical significance is more important than its brute strength and power. We can place the dragon in a religious context because of the biblical references that Spenser makes, and in doing so, the dragon can represent the force holding people back from truly experiencing God. It is the final obstacle that Redcross must overcome before he can achieve holiness, cleansing himself so that he can live a life of selfless devotion to God.
The fact that Redcross fights the dragon three times before he achieves success is reminiscent of Jesus and his resurrection. In many ways, Redcross achieves resurrection, or a rebirth, once he finally purges his life of all temptation and sin. He can therefore go forward in divine love (because of Una’s heavenly depiction) and in loyal service to the Queene, which we could extrapolate to mean Queen Elizabeth and the Protestant Church. Ultimately, the dragon is such a powerful force because he is an embodiment of all of the sins that have plagued Redcross in his journey. However, because Redcross has learned of true holiness, he is destined to be the winner, and he does.
This is very interesting–and the comparison with Beowulf–a poem set in pagan times but with Christian overlay–is especially fruitful. This battle is more overtly allegorical and more overtly Christian, I think. There are many indications that the dragon is a Satanic figure, and Una’s parents versions of Adam and Eve…but Spenser’s choice to frame this as an epic battle like that between Beowulf and the dragon is worth thinking about–notice how unheroic RC usually is here.
Throughout the entirety of The Faerie Queene, I have taken interest in Spenser’s representation of gender roles, asking questions such as: What is the significance of truth, as well as duplicity, taking the womanly form? Is Una more powerful as a savior figure than a male, such as Arthur? And if so, is this gender-power connection significant in the development of the allegory?
Cantos 10 and 11 are particularly interesting with regard to these questions because, in my opinion, they bring up the idea of what I would like to call the feminine gaze. In a lot of literature, it is ease to see the workings of the masculine gaze, or the male as the possessor of the gaze and the women as the object of it. However, in this poem, Una seems to be the overriding force, the woman who “watches over” the rest of the characters. For example, in Canto 8, she describes the viewing of Redcrosse’s “marred manly looks.” Later on, in Canto 10, Spenser writes that Redcrosse is under Una’s constant watch: “Una saw / That this her knight was feeble, and too faint; / And all his sinews woxen weake and raw […].” I find this interesting because it almost seems like a flip of the traditional gender concept of the objectification of women/ the male eye. Spenser seems to place Una in the possession of the gaze, having her viewing Redcrosse’s body as we would almost expect Redcrosse to view hers, in a particularly physical manner.
My question then becomes: Is this a part of Spenser’s representation of powerful women? Is there an underlying commentary on gender roles that we can discern? And if so, how does he relate the concepts of truth and femininity given than Duessa also takes a female form?
This is interesting. Una is also watching the battle with the dragon, too, and although she seems distant from the battle we feel her influence. We are told that she “devoutly” prays for RC during the final stages of that battle…But I wonder what you think of Duessa’s sudden reappearance in the final canto?
What I find interesting in the Cantos 11 & 12 is the question of whether Redcrosse is representing Christ or representing a more general Christian perspective? The reason why i think that Redcrosse is not supposed to be a version of Christ but rather a more generic Christian follower is because he cannot defeat the dragon alone. He needs help just like those who practice Christian tradition look towards it for aid. This puts Redcrosse at a much more human and mortal level. There is also a very large similarity between the experiences that Redcrosse goes through in the three days of battle and the practice of Christianity. For instances, falling into the Well of Life could be read as a sort of baptism and the Tree of Life could be seen as being the Eucharist. These are two processes that followers of the Christian faith have to undergo in order to truly be a part of the church, putting Redcrosse in the same pool as all other followers and not above them as Christ like figure. In addition, the fact that Redcrosse is saved numerous times at the perfect moment seems to be no coincidence and I think reflects Spenser and his personal insight and belief in Christianity. Is Spenser saying that without the aid of God a Christian, no matter how well prepared, is hopeless against the sins and fears of life? Is that aid of God only received when one proves themselves and their dedication to the church through baptism and the body of christ etc.?
These are great observations. Yes, the central thing to notice about RC’s victory over the dragon is that in some ways it isn’t his victory…he constantly “falls” and is raised again by God’s grace in various forms.
April 6, 2015 at 10:17 pm
In the opening book of Paradise Lost, of which I am ashamed to say I have almost no background knowledge, I was struck by the nature of the poem’s opening, after the “Argument” but before the beginning of the narrative about the banished Satan. There is not exactly a prologue, but Milton (if we can assume that the speaker of the poem is some form of Milton himself) calls upon superior powers (the Holy Spirit) for one to assist him in presenting the poem, which he feels will “justify the ways of God to men.” Milton seems to be aware even here of the influence his poem will have. “O Spirit…Instruct me, for thou know’st, thou from the first was present”: It is as though Milton, by invoking God and godly forces, is about to divulge a sacred text, that he, like the scribes of the Bible, is merely the mouthpiece for the word of God. His opening deems his task in writing this poem “things unattempted in prose or rhyme.” But even from the first book of the poem, which ascribes emotion, personality, and dimension to Satan where the Bible does not. Milton might be calling on the Holy Spirit and borrowing from the Bible but his story is not regurgitation but rather reexamination–and retelling from another, more involved vantage point. I might thereby suppose that his poem is response to a biblical story that is intended to be, and perhaps by Milton believed to be, as important as the story itself.
April 7, 2015 at 9:21 am
Very good–yes, one of the things that is complicated about this poem is that he asserts a kind of divine inspiration–as though he is a prophet divulging a sacred text, a little like Moses.
April 1, 2015 at 11:53 pm
In Cantos 11, I was most struck by the allegory of the Dragon in contrast to Redcrosse. I think it is the strongest scene where Redcrosse allegorically represents Christ overcoming the sins of hell and the underworld. Firstly, the repetition of the Dragon defeating Redcrosse and then him returning the next day, with his health fully restored parallels Christ and his resurrection. More specifically the “well of life” evokes imagery of baptism and therefore spiritual rebirth after he burned in his armor, which one could argue parallels Christ being punished or “burned” for the sins of all mankind. Additionally, some have interpreted that the tree that restores Redcrosse’s strength after his second failure represents the Holy Communion, again evoking themes of spiritual absolution for sins from the body of Christ. The Dragon allegorically represents the underworld, hell, and all sin and his jaws are even explicitly referred to as, “like that grisly mouth of hell.” The allegory of Redcrosse (or Christ) defeating the Dragon (or sin) contributes to Spenser’s overarching point of the poem, in the sense that Redcrosse could not have defeated the Dragon on his own. He needed those two magical aids, the well and the tree, or else he would not have succeeded; he needed God’s will. The narrator blatantly recognizes this when they state, “it chaunst (eternall God that chaunce did guide)” before the knight stumbles into the tree. Thus this battle between Redcrosse and the Dragon climaxes Spenser’s argument that Christian’s cannot find have worldly or spiritual success and thus find ultimate truth without God.
April 2, 2015 at 8:55 am
Excellent–this is exactly right. The battle shows RC overcoming sin in various forms–most obviously pride–but only able to do so with Christ’s help. He repeatedly “falls” and is generally unheroic without this divine aid.
April 1, 2015 at 10:07 pm
When I came upon stanza six in Canto Twelve, I had a hard time figuring out how the allegory was functioning. In this scene, the people who Red Cross has freed from the rule of the dragon bow before him and throw laurels at his feet. I found this entire episode odd, in that it seemed to be endorsing a sort of idolatry and celebration of worldly glory. The episode would be understandable in the context of just the literal story, since it makes sense that they would be grateful to Red Cross, but in the allegory the sequence seems a bit problematic. The description of Red Cross’ fight with the dragon makes it pretty clear that God is assisting the knight, and therefore God deserves the glory. None of the praise goes to God, however, and it is all heaped on the knight. The townspeople worship Red Cross like a god, which would be fine, allegorically speaking, if that were what he had represented throughout. During the story, however, Red Cross’ actions have been decidedly mortal and bound by error.
It seems to me that, in this moment of inconsistency, Spenser’s allegory breaks down a little. Here we can see some of the difficulty of writing allegory. Two competing tensions fight for control of the text: the literal world of the story, and the allegorical message the author is trying to send. Devoting energy to one can pull it away from the other. At this point, I think Spenser privileges the literal story over the allegory, or else is enacting a dramatic transformation that I was not prepared for.
April 2, 2015 at 8:54 am
Good questions. If RC functions here partly as a Christ figure, and there are indications that he does, perhaps some of the oddness that you notice can be resolved–there are echoes of Christ’s entry into Jerusalem in the stanza you mention. At the same time, it’s clear that RC is ALSO a regular flawed mortal, and perhaps this is where the allegory gets tricky.
April 1, 2015 at 9:40 pm
A question that struck me in reading Cantos XI and XII concerns the figure of the dragon. I analyzed the dragon in Beowolf in a recent essay, and I see many similarities in how the dragon fits into the narrative. So, what does the dragon in The Faerie Queene represent?
Like the dragon in Beowolf, I read this dragon as an emanation of the fears and anxieties of Redcross and Una, and more broadly, the people of England during the time Spenser wrote this series. The dragon is described as a “feend” (174)—“swoln with wrath, and poyson, and with bloody gore” (177). So, the dragon can represent a psychically imposing threat—the Spanish, perhaps, because the defeat of the Spanish Armada was a monumental victory for Queen Elizabeth.
Spenser also writes of the dragon that “all the hevens stood still amazed with his threat” (177). This connection between the dragon and heaven immediately makes me think of the dragon as not only a physical but also a spiritual force. The dragon is a mythological creature, and therefore its metaphysical significance is more important than its brute strength and power. We can place the dragon in a religious context because of the biblical references that Spenser makes, and in doing so, the dragon can represent the force holding people back from truly experiencing God. It is the final obstacle that Redcross must overcome before he can achieve holiness, cleansing himself so that he can live a life of selfless devotion to God.
The fact that Redcross fights the dragon three times before he achieves success is reminiscent of Jesus and his resurrection. In many ways, Redcross achieves resurrection, or a rebirth, once he finally purges his life of all temptation and sin. He can therefore go forward in divine love (because of Una’s heavenly depiction) and in loyal service to the Queene, which we could extrapolate to mean Queen Elizabeth and the Protestant Church. Ultimately, the dragon is such a powerful force because he is an embodiment of all of the sins that have plagued Redcross in his journey. However, because Redcross has learned of true holiness, he is destined to be the winner, and he does.
April 2, 2015 at 8:52 am
This is very interesting–and the comparison with Beowulf–a poem set in pagan times but with Christian overlay–is especially fruitful. This battle is more overtly allegorical and more overtly Christian, I think. There are many indications that the dragon is a Satanic figure, and Una’s parents versions of Adam and Eve…but Spenser’s choice to frame this as an epic battle like that between Beowulf and the dragon is worth thinking about–notice how unheroic RC usually is here.
April 1, 2015 at 3:35 pm
Throughout the entirety of The Faerie Queene, I have taken interest in Spenser’s representation of gender roles, asking questions such as: What is the significance of truth, as well as duplicity, taking the womanly form? Is Una more powerful as a savior figure than a male, such as Arthur? And if so, is this gender-power connection significant in the development of the allegory?
Cantos 10 and 11 are particularly interesting with regard to these questions because, in my opinion, they bring up the idea of what I would like to call the feminine gaze. In a lot of literature, it is ease to see the workings of the masculine gaze, or the male as the possessor of the gaze and the women as the object of it. However, in this poem, Una seems to be the overriding force, the woman who “watches over” the rest of the characters. For example, in Canto 8, she describes the viewing of Redcrosse’s “marred manly looks.” Later on, in Canto 10, Spenser writes that Redcrosse is under Una’s constant watch: “Una saw / That this her knight was feeble, and too faint; / And all his sinews woxen weake and raw […].” I find this interesting because it almost seems like a flip of the traditional gender concept of the objectification of women/ the male eye. Spenser seems to place Una in the possession of the gaze, having her viewing Redcrosse’s body as we would almost expect Redcrosse to view hers, in a particularly physical manner.
My question then becomes: Is this a part of Spenser’s representation of powerful women? Is there an underlying commentary on gender roles that we can discern? And if so, how does he relate the concepts of truth and femininity given than Duessa also takes a female form?
April 2, 2015 at 8:50 am
This is interesting. Una is also watching the battle with the dragon, too, and although she seems distant from the battle we feel her influence. We are told that she “devoutly” prays for RC during the final stages of that battle…But I wonder what you think of Duessa’s sudden reappearance in the final canto?
April 1, 2015 at 2:02 pm
What I find interesting in the Cantos 11 & 12 is the question of whether Redcrosse is representing Christ or representing a more general Christian perspective? The reason why i think that Redcrosse is not supposed to be a version of Christ but rather a more generic Christian follower is because he cannot defeat the dragon alone. He needs help just like those who practice Christian tradition look towards it for aid. This puts Redcrosse at a much more human and mortal level. There is also a very large similarity between the experiences that Redcrosse goes through in the three days of battle and the practice of Christianity. For instances, falling into the Well of Life could be read as a sort of baptism and the Tree of Life could be seen as being the Eucharist. These are two processes that followers of the Christian faith have to undergo in order to truly be a part of the church, putting Redcrosse in the same pool as all other followers and not above them as Christ like figure. In addition, the fact that Redcrosse is saved numerous times at the perfect moment seems to be no coincidence and I think reflects Spenser and his personal insight and belief in Christianity. Is Spenser saying that without the aid of God a Christian, no matter how well prepared, is hopeless against the sins and fears of life? Is that aid of God only received when one proves themselves and their dedication to the church through baptism and the body of christ etc.?
April 2, 2015 at 8:47 am
These are great observations. Yes, the central thing to notice about RC’s victory over the dragon is that in some ways it isn’t his victory…he constantly “falls” and is raised again by God’s grace in various forms.