The Result of Temptation in “The Lady of Shallot”

Alfred Lord Tennyson’s “The Lady of Shalott” is a poem that tells the story of a cursed lady imprisoned in a tower on the island of Shalott near the city of Camelot. Through her curse, she is unable to look outside of her window into the real world. As a result, she is forced to live a life where she weaves a tapestry all day every day unable to see the world except through the reflection of her mirror. Although the tale seems to focus on an unattainable love, a much more Victorian understanding is unraveled when one focuses on the role of the lady of Shallot.

No time hath she to sport and play:

A charmed web she weaves alway.

A curse is on her, if she stay

Her weaving, either night or day,

To look down to Camelot.

She knows not what the curse may be;

Therefore she weaveth steadily,

Therefore no other care hath she,

The Lady of Shalott.

In the first stanza of the second part of Alfred Lord Tennyson’s “The Lady of Shalott” a woman is introduced, described as unattainable, composed, and dedicated to her womanly tasks – all of which an ideal Victorian woman should embody. She is described as being “cursed.” However, the reason for her curse is unknown to readers, as the woman herself does not even known the reason. Despite the passing of knights on horseback, priests, etc., the lady “still delights [in her web] / To weave the mirror’s magic sights,” showing how dedicated she is to fulfilling her tasks (which is weaving the beautiful world around her).

Despite the “perfection” to which the lady seems to embody, her downfall becomes evident when a man by the name of Sir Lancelot passes by her tower. Depicted as the most dashing and chivalrous of all knights, the lady of Shallot cannot help but look away from her mirror to see the image of the great knight from outside of her window.

She left the web, she left the loom

She made three paces thro’ the room

She saw the water-flower bloom,

She saw the helmet and the plume,

She look’d down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide;

The mirror crack’d from side to side;

‘The curse is come upon me,’ cried

The Lady of Shalott.

Up until this point in the poem, the lady of Shallot is considered the ideal woman because she is isolated from society’s temptations, making her a very innocent individual. However, when Lancelot comes to the scene, she is no longer the innocent woman she once was because she is tempted by her desire to see the real Lancelot – that is, Lancelot from outside of her window, not from the reflection in her mirror. From this point forward, she exits her tower, entering a world where evil lurks.

This particular poem breathes domesticity. While men are constantly passing the tower doing “manly” things (most likely), the lady of Shallot is confined to her tower, where she is subdued with tasks such as “weaving a web.” As a result of her unawareness of the outside world, the lady leads an ideal life (from a Victorian standpoint) because she is unaffected by society’s temptations. However, the instance that she decides to look away from her mirror outside into the real world, she knows what is going to happen: death.

Tennyson’s poem, “The Lady of Shallot,” seems to function as an admonition. He introduces an interesting story about a woman and her newfound infatuation for the great Sir Lancelot to write that, when women escape their domestic lifestyle comprised of “womanly” tasks, the ultimate conclusion is death.

Lucy: The Ideal Victorian Woman?

OK… Remember that scene where Lucy gets a stake driven through her heart? Let’s talk about that. (By the way, the video above is from the 1992 film adaptation of Dracula – viewer discretion is advised.)

As I discussed in my last blog post, Mina Harker is considered pure and chaste (an ideal woman, according to the Victorian definition), while the three “sisters” of Dracula are considered evil, and highly sexual monsters. However, one more prevalent female exists: Lucy. She possesses both features, so I am just going to say that she fits somewhere in between all of the madness.

Let’s look at the scene of Lucy’s final death (which is, indeed, very sexual). “The body shook and quivered and twisted in wild contortions; the sharp white teeth champed together till the lips were cut, and the mouth was smeared with a crimson foam” (Stoker, p. 231). If one reads this in a particular way, it becomes clear that this is so much more than a bloody death…. It is sexual pleasure (an orgasm). However, amidst all of the pleasure, “Arthur [never] falters” (Stoker, p. 231). Rather, he resembles Thor in that he drives a stake through Lucy’s heart (could be read as a penis), never faltering. It almost seems as though Holmwood is trying to retrieve his breath after a sexual act. In general, this is an important instance in the novel because it shows that this is what happens when one falls victim to a vampire’s seduction – to sex. After she is killed, she is finally able to return to her state of purity.

I could be completely wrong, but I’m just going to make a claim about the function of sexuality in Dracula. Bram Stoker intertwines sexuality (continuously) throughout his novel because he wants to remind readers of the problems that sexuality causes. In other words, he wants to awaken their anxieties – introduce a world where women can overtly appear sexual and lustful – only to make them realize that a world where sexuality is prevalent is a world doomed to evil and destruction (as seen throughout Dracula). In other words, sex is being equated with evil. In this scene with Lucy, the language is so sexually-charged because Stoker wants readers to understand that in Victorian society, if a woman falls victim to sexual seduction, she will become a monster until the moment of her death.

In summarization, Stoker utilizes conventional gender and sexual norms in his novel (Lucy is pure), only to disrupt them (Lucy becomes a sex-crazed, blood-sucking vampire), and then return them to their previous state (dead, but nonetheless innocent). Throughout everything, the anxieties of Victorian society are awakened because people are able to see this “side” of women. So, in order to evade the life of Lucy, women must continue to follow a life of chastity and elegance.

 

Women in the Victorian-era

Throughout the novel thus far, we have been introduced to quite a few female characters, but most importantly Mina Harker and Lucy Westerna (and, well, the three female vampires). Living in the time of the British Victorian era,  these women were confined to fulfilling clearly-defined social standards. That entailed appearing pure, polite, abstinent – all together virtuous, really. Luckily for readers, Mina Harker and Lucy Westerna seem to encapsulate all that a Victorian woman should. While Mina may be considered stronger and more resourceful, and Lucy weaker yet attractive nonetheless, they both possess the “womanly quality” of virtuousness – which is a necessity for women surviving in the time. Well, that is, if one is aiming to look favorable in the public eye.

However, the three female vampires pose a threat to this conception that women should be polite, pure, and collected. In all actuality, they are poles apart, as they are exceedingly sexual in behavior (“The fair girl went on her knees, and bent over me, fairly gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal….” p. 43) and violent in action (“The women closed round, whilst I was aghast with horror; but as I looked, they disappeared, and with them the dreadful bag” p. 45). They even feed on a baby child! Alright, I may be going out on a limb here, but I think this sharp contrast between Mina & Lucy (well, before Lucy becomes a vampire) and the three, voluptuous women is trying to point at something much more complex about the structure of Victorian society. What if Stoker added these three, female vampires into the novel to awaken the emotions of society, especially men? Think about it: while men dived into the novel, they were forced into a new world – a world where women existed completely different from that their wife. Rather than following the “guidelines” of the domestic sphere, men were forced to read about a world where women are repulsive, and engage in acts such as fellatio (or blood sucking?) in the presence of others. Stoker is doing something very different here – something that conflicts with Victorian norms. He is transforming women from elegant and proper individuals to diabolical creatures hungry for sex and, more importantly, blood. Worst of all: what if male readers are enjoying this impolite description of women? To the people of the Victorian era, this truly was a terrifying thought: that very degenerate, sexual beings can exist in an ever-so genteel society.

 

Volume III: Chapter VI – Buried Alive

**Beethoven’s 7th Symphony plays in the background**

‘”Can I ever forget it?” he thought; “can I ever forget his blank white face as he sat opposite to me at the coffee-house, with the Times newspaper in his hand? There are some crimes that can never be atoned for, and this is one of them. If I could bring George Talboys to life to-morrow, I could never heal that horrible heart-wound; I could never make him the man he was before he read that printed lie”‘ (377).

This is an important flashback in the story, and it really makes one consider the scene that occurred earlier in the novel. However, before referencing the earlier instance, it is important to cite repetition and binaries. The word “forget” appears twice and this is important because Robert doesn’t know if he can actually forget what has occurred, concerning his good friend, George. In addition, the binary “I could” vs “I could never” comes into play, indicating that, if Robert were able to bring George back to life, he most certainly would do so, but he would never be able to assuage the pain created by Helen’s “death.” Again, readers are shown that Robert really does care about George – whether this a romantic type of affection, or so forth.

In contrast to the time this scene actually occurred (p. 39), this flashback is understood differently by the reader, mainly because we now know what Lady Audley (AKA Helen) has done (when we previously had no idea) and, truly, that her entire life is a lie. This is an important passage because it highlights Lady Audley as a determined character, making readers think about her circumstance, and everything that she has experienced. Now readers have an understanding of her as a character: at first, she was Helen Maldon, daughter to a drunk. She ends up marrying a man named George because he had quite a lot of money. However, because George married someone of a low social and financial background, he was disinherited. After George goes to Australia, Helen becomes Lucy Graham and works as a governess. Later on, she becomes Sir Michael’s wife (and a bigamist). Clearly, this passage alone brings back the theme of “madness” and what it means to be a sane individual. Lady Audley enters a slow journey into madness through all of her decisions. Aside from abandoning her child, she doesn’t seem to show any emotions for the problems that she is concocting (such as leaving a horrible heart-wound on George).

This may be crazy, but if George were still alive, do you think Robert would explain the entire truth to George – let him know that Helen only married him for his money? Maybe, instead of George being completely crestfallen – and depressed – he would become infuriated, and find a way to “get back” at Helen. What if George actually is alive?

Learning of Helen’s Death

“I cannot tell how long he sat blankly staring at one paragraph amongst the list of deaths, before his dazed brain took in its full meaning; but after considerable pause he pushed the newspaper over to Robert Audley, and with a face that had changed from its dark bronze to a sickly, chalky, grayish white, and with an awful calmness in his manner, he pointed with his finger to a line which ran thus:- “On the 24th inst., at Ventnor, Isle of wight, Helen Talboys, aged twenty-two” (39)”.

This is a very loaded passage, in the sense that it contains a lot of information, particularly regarding character development. But, before I begin, I just want to emphasize that the lady – the governess, more particularly – on the Argus, was either:

A.) A witch

B.) A gypsy

C.) Both A and B

All joking aside, this passage truly exemplifies how important Helen was to the unfortunate George Talboys. Just as the governess stated on the Argus, George missed his reunion with his wife by only a few days. According to his mood at this particular point in the story, it is manifest that Helen was very important to him. After all, “he sat blankly staring at one paragraph amongst the list of deaths, before his brain took in its full meaning.” He was so shocked by his wife’s death that he sat expressionless and unresponsive, until his brain was finally able to formulate what had occurred. Furthermore, after staring blankly at the list of passings, he took a “considerable pause.” Not just a pause – a considerable pause. The diction here is important because it further illustrates the point that Helen was a prominent figure in George’s life. I mean, wasn’t that the reason for his trek to Australia (at least that’s what we think as of now)?

In addition, readers are given an even better understanding of Robert Audley’s character. He isn’t just a man accompanying George because he pities him. It is evident that Bob cares about him, as seen in his face changing from its natural “dark bronze to a sickly, chalky, grayish, white…” Yikes. These adverbs provide a very unsettling image. It’s the feeling you acquire after a bad episode of Game of Thrones – a feeling of despondency. Nevertheless, despite his change in countenance, his deportment stays the same: calm. However, Braddon specifically writes an “awful calmness” because, at this point, the calmness is very unpleasant. Clearly, this is a binary to the deadpan appearance that George exhibits. On a side note, what’s going to happen now? George is back home and he can’t even be with his wife!

This is an important passage for various reasons. First and foremost, we learn of Helen’s death. Secondly, we learn that George truly is affected, as seen in his physical and mental change of state. Thirdly, it becomes clear that Bob Audley really is a compassionate guy, sorrowful for his friend’s loss. However, questions also begin to arise, such as: are we going to learn more about Helen’s role in the novel? How did she die, exactly, and why did it occur so close to George’s return? How is Bob so calm throughout this entire happening? Was George’s encounter with the governess a foreshadowing for this event?

At this point, we as readers are left in the dark. But it surely is the beginning to a riveting mystery.