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“She did not remove her gaze from the darkening countryside, but for some moments was quite silent; then turning to him with a sudden passion in her manner, that lighted up her face with a new and wonderful beauty which the baronet perceived even in the growing twilight, she fell on her knees at his feet.” (Bradon 17)

Though the passage initially just struck me simply as an oxymoron (how can darkness cause so much light?), this passage can be used to further ensure that Lady Audley was previously Helen before she took on her new life. The contrast of light and dark symbolizes her quickly changing thoughts of getting married to Michael. When she looks back on the growing darkness, she is having negative thoughts on getting married. Firstly, if she is Helen and marries Michael, she will be going against the laws of marriage with George. Furthermore, marriage will force her to give up hope that George, the one Lady Audley/Helen truly loves, is somehow alive and will return to her. Afterwords, she realizes the upsides to marriage, and the darkness lights up her face. She will never have to be worried about her past again. She can live openly as wealthy, cheery Lady Audley and leave Helen behind. Her past may seem dark in some ways, but she can take advantage of the darkness and hide in it.

However, even the baronet can see the growing twilight, as mentioned in the penultimate clause of the passage. This may resemble an example of foreshadowing; if Lady Audley shines too brightly, she will have no darkness to shroud her. She may be free of Helen for now but Lady Audley should still proceed with caution.

” What was she but a servant like me? Taking wages and working for them as hard, or harder than I did. You should have seen her shabby clothes, Luke-worn and patched, and darned, and turned and twisted, yet always looking nice upon her, somehow… Why, I’ve seen her come out of the parlor with a few sovereigns and a little silver in her hand, that master had just given her for her quarter’s salary; and now look at her!” ( Braddon 31)

 Phoebe is one of the most confusing characters that we have come across so far in the novel. She seems to have this deep seethed loathing towards Lucy, the lady who gave her a better life than the one she had before. In most circumstances, you would think that a maid who has been treated with such kindness, would not have such ill feelings towards her lady. Her admiration towards Lucy and the life she now leads is concealed with a hidden venom. The use of the words “shabby”, “worn”, “patched” and “darned” are used by Phoebe to put an emphasis on how penniless her lady was before she became the Lady of Audley Court. Phoebe wants Luke to truly grasp that she and Lucy were not truly different until Lucy’s luck changed. Phoebe’s tone throughout this passage gives the reader insight into how she feels towards Lucy. As she continues her discussion to Luke about how far Lucy has come she ends her rant with, “now look at her”, by reading this statement and the words that came before it, it is not hard to tell that she is saying it with contempt.

Phoebe dreams of a better life for herself – she has witnessed Lucy come up from nothing and fantasizes about the same kind of future for herself. However, like much of the novel, there is a mystery behind how she plans to gain such fortune and luck. This introduction of Phoebe’s character leaves the readers wondering what she has planned for her lady. Her part in this story will become more than just Lucy’s maid, as she has uncovered one of her lady’s secrets, and intends to use it to propel her life forward. She will be a key asset in the uncovering of Lady Audley’s secret.

“She had never taken her left hand from the black ribbon at her throat. She drew it from her bosom as she spoke, and looked at the object attached to it” (Braddon 17)

Before arriving at this passage in Lady Audley’s Secret, Sir Audley had just proposed to Lucy Graham. After a moment of consideration Lucy accepted the proposal which excited Sir Audley, but also made him worrisome about her reasoning for accepting the proposal. They part ways and Lucy enters the privacy of her own room. This passage then follows, and the reader gets a glimpse into why Lucy may have been hesitant when responding to Sir Audley’s proposal.

Reading this passage, it appears that Lucy is having trouble letting go of something since she had “never” took her hand off the ribbon with the object. Also, she kept the object attached at her “bosom” which has an indication that this object is very near-and-dear to her heart and she wants to keep it close. The object is “attached” to the ribbon, and the ribbon, is attached to her so essentially this object is something she is attached or connected to.

The rhyming between “throat” and “spoke” may lead the reader to think more about what is happening in the lines indicated above. Drawing from those words, and the context around them, the object could be tied around her throat to influence her to think before she speaks.

The reader is meant to know that Lucy is clearly hiding the object from the people around her. But why? What is she hiding? The mystery of it all makes the reader eager to find out. 

“No more dependence, no more drudgery, no more humiliations… every trace of the old life melted away- every clue to identity buried and forgotten- except these, except these.” (pg. 17)

The immediate detail that stands is the repetition of “except these.” The phrase is almost dreamlike, and appears as though Lucy in some kind of trance, reflecting back on whatever “these” signify. This suggests that “these” are monuments, but that there is a kind of nostalgia to them, instead of a pressing anxiety. However, it curious as to why Lucy keeps an item that can trace her back to the dependence, drudgery and humiliation at such a close arm’s length. It is almost as if she secretly wants someone to discover what she is hiding.

The inclusion of the word dependence is interesting as well, as Lucy is, in fact, completely dependent upon Michael Audley now. She may not be dependent upon the help of random strangers, but her new life is all thanks to someone else. This suggests that Lucy may not be thinking exactly clearly about what life married to someone for money will be like, and could be foreshadowing. Perhaps she eventually grows tired of being Michael’s shadow and prized possession, and wants her own spotlight. Either way, her inclusion of the word dependence showcases her naivety.

Another possible foreshadowing is through the phrase “identity buried and forgotten,” as it seems possible that Lucy Graham is, in fact, Helen. Helen at least seems to be physically buried in the ground, and so Lucy choosing to describe her identity as also buried seems to mirror that ideal.

This quote ultimately brings about several questions, such as who was Lucy Graham and what made her past life so awful, but it also gives several hints. She is nostalgic about the past life, even though she recounts it as though it was terrible, she is naïve and desperate to marry someone wealthy, and she hints at that the possibility that her identity is not just metaphorically buried, but also physically. I am excited to read further and see if these truly are instances of foreshadowing.

 “ It was neither a locket, a miniature, nor a cross: it was a ring wrapped in an oblong piece of paper-the paper    partly printed, partly written, yellow with age, and crumpled with much folding.”

 

     In this quote, taken from the first chapter of Mary Elizabeth Braddon book titled Lady Audley’s Secret, it seems that Lucy Graham has some sort of grave secret that she is hiding from the world. The ring and the crumpled paper gives the reader a mysterious darker insight of Lady Audley’s past. Her reputation within the book thus far has only been about how positive, light hearted and amiable she is. Getting further into the rest of the chapters in the novel, the ring, and crumpled paper connects with a similar story of how George Talboys left his wife and child to sail off to Australia in order to make money to provide for his family. He left a brief note to his wife Helen before he sailed off.  After he returns home three years later, he reads in the newspaper how his beloved wife had died about a week before. Mr. Talboy finding out about his wife’s death occurs the same time as when Lucy Graham agrees to marry Michael Audley. This is critical because, in the passage above, the description of the objects that are listed seem as though the crumpled paper can represent the letter and the ring a previous marriage.

    The most vivid description in the passage above is what condition the paper is in. It seems that Lady Audley has read the letter but always keeps it fold up. It is interesting how Lady Audley keeps these trinkets tied to the black ribbon around her neck. This could signify that these trinkets are sentimental to her, and gives the reader the opportunity to ask questions and make connections on “why” the actual reason she is so secretive and the true significance it represents. Essentially these trinkets that Lucy Audley is hiding, can be key evidence in resolving her mysterious darker past.

“No more dependence, no more drudgery, no more humiliations,” she said; “every trace of the old life melted away – every clew to identity buried and forgotten – except these, except these.”

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In this passage, taken from the first chapter of Mary Elizabeth Braddon’s publication called Lady Audley’s Secret, the reader is introduced to the inner thought processes of one of the novel’s protagonists by the name of Lucy Graham. Only moments before, Sir Audley had asked the young woman to marry him and she had accepted his proposal.

On a formal level, the critical reader may notice several linguistic features standing out in this passage. For one, the initial repetition of the letter ‘d’ in “dependence” and in “drudgery” causes the passage to sound rhythmic. The same effect is created by the repetition of the word “every” and the repetition of the final phrase “except these”. The entire passage – from beginning to end – almost sounds like a chant.

Moreover, on a content level, the critical reader is also confronted with certain particularities. What appears most striking is the passage’s reference to an “old life” which “melt[s] away” and an “identity” that is “buried and forgotten”. These formulations sound cryptic and seem to be pointing towards a mystery within the narrative’s plot. Considering the context in which these words are uttered by Lucy, they appear odd as well. Having just accepted a marriage proposal, Lucy’s words and thoughts seem to be consumed with negativity. She speaks of “dependence” and “humiliation” and does not choose happy words to signal her optimism for her future as a married woman.

Essentially, what this passage may indicate is that Lucy Graham might be hiding a secret concerning her true identity which will most likely be the center of the whole narrative.

“I cannot tell how long he sat blankly staring at one paragraph amongst the list of deaths, before his dazed brain tool in its full meaning…”

 

The quote above can be found in chapter 4 of Lady Audley’s Secret. The more “obvious” reading of the paragraph puts readers in the perspective of George, who has returned from his three year voyage to find out from a paper of his wife’s (Helen) death. What may catch the eye of careful readers is the repetition of terminology for length or time, and also how, when describing widower George’s state, he seems almost dead himself. Upon examining the former point; notice the wording in the line. Terms contrast to pursue significance, such as in the direct “long”-ness of the list of deaths, and George’s focus on only “one”. The contrast of these terms helps to paint the scene for readers, almost as if we are also checking the list with this character. Regarding the latter point, Lady Audley’s Secret is not the first book to demonstrate romantic connections and the feeling of being “unable to go on”, nor will it be the last. What was unique to this paragraph was that George seems to resemble a walking corpse in his shock and disbelief. Take the lines, “…he sat blankly…” and “…his dazed brain…” for example. These are traits we often associate with the deceased, or at least medically deceased. The chapter seems to place George in a state of supreme focus (during the quest to find his wife’s name – or rather to not find it) and then throw him into a numb state of semi-consciousness, where, perhaps as a method for grief, George can only seem to react to the events around him as if his senses were blocked by invisible barriers.

In summary, ‘In an Artist’s Studio’ is about the male artist’s tendency to objectify his female sitters or ‘models’ for his paintings and sculptures; the woman is merely a passive object on which the artist projects his fantasies and Christina Rossetti ‘dreams’. Written by a woman, the poem at first seems confusing  The artist is seen as a sort of predator or parasite, ‘feed[ing] upon’ the face of the female model – ‘by day and night’, we learn, the odd mention of ‘night’ suggesting some sort of male monster or demon. Rossetti seeks to demonstrate how women are treated and how they are viewed. This poem examines the tendency of men to objectify women in art and the way that women are shown to suffer as a result. The poem presents us with a male artist who has one beautiful muse who is the subject of all of his paintings. We can see therefore that in his art the male artist objectifies her and limits her to this “one meaning.” The poem becomes more sinister as we see that “He feeds upon her face by day and night,” which presents us with an almost vampiric image of how the artist treats this unnamed woman. As the poem ends it is clear that in a sense the artist is not strictly painting the woman before him, because the woman he is painting is merely an object for his satisfaction.

 

   “Ballads have strong associations with childhood: much children’s poetry comes in ballad form. […] Ballads emphasize strong rhythms, repetition of key phrases, and rhymes. […] Ballads do not have the same formal consistency as some other poetic forms, but one can look for certain characteristics that identify a ballad, including [a] simple language, […] stor[y-like poetry], […] ballad stanzas – consisting of four lines, rhymed ABCB (or sometimes ABAB–the key is that the second and fourth lines rhyme), repetition, […] and third-person objective narration.“

   It is the third-person narration that makes John Keats’ poem “La Belle Dame sans Merci” (1819) peculiar as a ballad. The poem opens with two descriptive third-person “objective” narration stanzas in which the poet sets the environment. We are in an idyllic dark location where a “knight-at-arms” (line 1) ails “alone and palely loitering”, being also “haggard and so woe-begone” (line 6).

   The poem suddenly changes towards a more subjective narration, the audience can’t easily understand who “I” is who is telling the story until the very last stanza where the narrator is indeed the knight-at-arms that “sojourn[s t]here, alone and palely loitering” (lines 45-46).

   The question here is who is this Belle Dame? Weirdly described as “a faery’s child” (line 14), with “wild” (line 16) eyes, this woman can easily make our narrator fall in love with her and vice versa, because she tells him “I love thee true” (line 28) even if she spoke “in language strange” (line 27). Everything happening between the two is so fast that once we read “there I dreamed – Ah! Woe betide! – the latest dream I ever dreamt” (lines 34-35), we feel relieved because we realize that she is a demon-like figure that kills men by seducing, abducting, deceiving, and eventually using them for her own pleasure. She is, after all, what the other fate-like “kings and prince” (line 37) tell him, she is “La Belle Dame sans Merci [that] thee hath in thrall!” (lines 39-30).

   I would argue that she does not represent what many critics say she represents: the femme fatale that puts a man to disgrace. Back when he was writing this poem, John Keats had recently found out about his disease that would have surely brought him to death. Because of this, one can tell that he focused his lyrical attention on death. In this poem, the elfin-fairy woman is perhaps death itself. He cannot say no to her, she appears out of nowhere, she killed brave “warriors” (line 38) before him, and eventually “lulled [him] asleep” (line 33). There’s nothing that, metaphorically speaking, can’t refer to death, particularly if the first thing he sees is the flower of death:

“I see a lily” (line 9).