i OSCILLATIONS OF THE ABSOLUTE: An Examination of the Implications of Wallace Stevens* '^Central Poetry" by Keith Darrel Eccleston B.A., The University of B r i t i s h Columbia, 1959 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF Master of Arts i n the Department of English We accept t h i s thesis as conforming to the required standard THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA September, 196k. . In p r e s e n t i n g t h i s t h e s i s i n p a r t i a l f u l f i l m e n t of the requirements f o r an advanced degree at the U n i v e r s i t y of B r i t i s h Columbia, I agree that the L i b r a r y s h a l l make i t f r e e l y a v a i l a b l e f o r reference and study* I f u r t h e r agree that per- mission, f o r extensive copying of t h i s t h e s i s f o r s c h o l a r l y purposes may be granted by the Head of my Department or by h i s r e p r e s e n t a t i v e s . I t i s understood that, copying or p u b l i - c a t i o n of t h i s t h e s i s f o r f i n a n c i a l gain s h a l l not be allowed without my w r i t t e n permission* Department of I b r i ^ l i s L The U n i v e r s i t y of B r i t i s h Columbia, Vancouver 8, Canada Date 11 ABSTRACT The Inadequacy of the image has ever been the b e s e t t i n g problem of i d e a l i s t e s t h e t i c s . The discrepancy between the absolute and the contingent, between the t h i n g , the idea of the t h i n g and the experience of the t h i n g provides common cause f o r the compositions of hermetic a r t . The b a s i c a f f i r - mation of t h i s t h e s i s i s that the theory of Wallace Stevens o f f e r s a demonstrable s o l u t i o n t o the problem and that h i s r e l a t i o n a l use of images i n The C o l l e c t e d Poems overcomes the inadequacy of those images. In p r a c t i c e , however, t h i s t h e s i s i n v o l v e s the d e l i n e a - t i o n of that s o l u t i o n l e s s than the d i a l e c t i c s necessary to determine i t s nature. Such a method i s d i c t a t e d by an i n i t i a l acceptance of d e l i b e r a t e obscuration as one of the formative p r i n c i p l e s of Stevens' e s t h e t i c . The i n t r o d u c t i o n to t h i s paper i s l i t t l e more than an examination of the causes and values of obscuration i n Stevens' prose and i n h i s poems and a defence of the method adopted h e r e i n to d e a l w i t h those values; i n i t , Stevens' poems are vievred as acts appropriate to the p r a c t i c a l process of transcendence - a process designed to a t t a i n , i n the words of the Athanasian Creed, "One, not by conversion of the Godhead i n t o f l e s h , but by t a k i n g of the manhood i n t o God." The t h e o r e t i c v a l i d i t y of transcendence as process becomes the onus proband! of "Part I " . I t c o n s t i t u t e s an attempt to appease apparent a m b i g i i i t i e s i n Stevens' theory of poetry - a m b i g u i t i e s that have plagued c r i t i c s who would perceive i n h i s poems the p r i n c i p l e s of h i s theory - by determining the nature and i m p l i c a t i o n s of Stevens' concept of " c e n t r a l poetry." The source, nature, and mode of existence of that concept - used h e r e i n as generic name f o r Stevens' t o t a l theory - are charac- t e r i z e d by the image of o s c i l l a t i o n s contained i n the t h e s i s t i t l e . B a s i c a l l y , the d i s c i p l i n e of the " c e n t r a l poet" i s analogous t o that i n v o l v e d i n the v i a a f f i r m a t i v a and v i a n e g a t i v a of r e l i g i o u s a r t , but the phrase ' o s c i l l a t i o n s of the absolute* more e a s i l y manifests the character of h i s symbols. The phrase describes both the movement of the mind from i n - volvement i n the l i m i t a t i o n s of images and ideas to free con- templation and the nature of the ' e x i s t e n t images' which become adequate objects f o r that contemplation. The c o u p l i n g of o s c i l l a t i o n s i n the image w i t h movements of the mind d i c t a t e s the kind of study p r o j e c t e d i n "Part I I " of t h i s paper. Therein Stevens' theory i s compared to the tenets of symbolism, i n terms both of the c r e a t i o n of the i n - d i v i d u a l symbol and of the symbolic work - s p e c i f i c a l l y w i t h Mallarme's concept of "the Book." The a r c h i t e c t o n i c s of The C o l l e c t e d Poems of Wallace Stevens - the v a r i a t i o n and r e p e t i - t i o n of image, the i n c o r p o r a t i o n s of a l l u s i o n , the progression i n the volume from p o s i t i n g s of the contingent to e x i s t e n t images of the absolute - are i n d i c a t e d , and the karmic process of the mind as i t dramatizes i t s e l f i n that created a r c h i t e c t u r e i s d e s c r i b e d . Decreation, a b s t r a c t i o n , composition, and r e p e t i - t i o n are t r e a t e d as the major aspects of the movement of the mind towards the u n f e t t e r e d experience of the absolute. The purpose of t h i s t h e s i s i s to provide a concept of the nature of Stevens' p o e t i c that w i l l prove e f f i c a c i o u s as a i v c r i t i c a l approach to h i s poems. I t s v a l i d i t y , t h e r e f o r e , i s dependent upon the degree to which the concept h e r e i n evolved provides an i n s i g h t i n t o the experience of The C o l l e c t e d Poems of Wallace Stevens. V TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE PRELIMINARY: An Introduction to Obscurity and a Defence of Method 1 PART I - Central Poetry: Morphology 32 PART II - Central Poetry: Syntax 115 CONCLUSION 170 FOOTNOTES 172 BIBLIOGRAPHY 182 1 PRELIMINARY: An Introduction to Obscurity and a Defence of Method. Singular Teufelsdrockh, would thou hadst t o l d thy singular story i n p l a i n words! ... Nothing but innuendoes, f i g u r a t i v e crocihetsj a t y p i c a l Shadow, f i t f u l l y wavering, p r o p h e t i c o - s a t i r i c ; no c l e a r l o g i c a l Picture. "How paint to the sensual eye," asks he once, "what passes i n the Holy-of-Holies of Man's Soul; i n what words, known to these profane times, speak even a f a r o f f of the unspeakable?" We ask i n turn: Why perplex these times, profane as they are, with need- less obscurity, by omission and by commission? Not mystical only i s our Professor, but whimsical; and i n - volves himself ... i n eye-bewildering chiaroscuro. Carlyle - Sartor Resartus To embark upon a study of the poetry and prose of Wallace Stevens by exploring the p o s s i b i l i t i e s of an analogy between him and Teufelsdrb'ckh may appear b i z a r r e , yet the points of resem- blance, not only between the two but also between Teufelsdrockh's English editor and a Stevens* c r i t l c - i n - t h e - a b s t r a c t , are such that the exploration becomes well-nigh inescapable once conceived. The p o s s i b i l i t i e s are such, at l e a s t , as to f a c i l i t a t e an orderly introduction to the thesis of t h i s study. There i s , i n i t i a l l y , the fact to face that the outcry against obscurity contained i n the epigraph of this Introduction has often been voiced by the c r i t i c s of Stevens and with more cause than Teufelsdrb'ckh's editor could show. As the composer of an esthetic theory couched almost wholly i n terms both i d i o s y n c r a t i c and ambig- uous, Stevens must inevitably evoke the kind of response expressed by Graham Hough: The c r i t i c a l essays (of Stevens] either say, with ponder- ous mannerism, nothing at a l l ; or something so elemen- tary that one can hardly believe It to be the r e s u l t of such an elaborate procedure... Outside his own peculiar poetic vein he cannot have been a very i n t e l l i g e n t man. This i s not a thing that can be said of many poets and one would not wish to say i t of Stevens, except that the pretensions to a speculative i n t e l l i g e n c e bulk so 2 l a r g e l y i n his work. Stranger s t i l l , the subject of these meandering pronouncements - the r e l a t i o n between r e a l i t y and Imagination - i s the very one that l i e s at the centre of his poetry.1 If the prose of The Necessary Angel and Opus Posthumous can have t h i s e f f e c t , i t i s not surprising that Stevens' poetry, based as ' i t i s on his theory, should e l i c i t displays of animosity and a c r i d wit of the kind used by Winters who, i n objecting to Stevens* "perverse ingenuity i n confusing the statement of e s s e n t i a l l y simple themes," characterized the poetry by quoting Stevens* poem "The Revolutionists Stop For Orangeade": Hang a feather by your eye Nod and look a l i t t l e s l y . 2 The analogy between the obscurity of Teufelsdrockh and that of Stevens i s not t r i v i a l . There are at least two kinds of obscurity - that amorphous kind which comes from vagueness of motive or v a c i l l a t i o n i n the execution of idea and act, and that unavoidable kind which comes when one seeks to embody the i n e f f a b l e . Both are equally Indefinable i n terms of a "clear l o g i c a l Picture." But Teuf elsdrb'ckh had his' defense; deliberate obscurity i s the only way open, i n "profane times," to speak "of the unspeakable." One of the products of t h i s analogy then, i s a pronouncement that the purpose of t h i s present study of Stevens' work i s to provide a l i k e defense f o r him by proving that the element of obscurity i n h i s work i s a necessary and deliberate aspect of h i s attempt to speak the unspeakable i n honest speech. It may here be objected that what one man finds abstruse i s to another obtuse, that Teufelsdrockh's philosophy was not r e a l l y obscure, and that allegations of obscurity i n writers usually a r i s e because of a penchant i n buffoons l i k e Teufelsdrbckh's 3 e d i t o r f o r treating private misreadings as though they were public. Indeed, the p r o b a b i l i t y of such an objection a c t u a l l y occurring can be.adequately assessed by reference to the fact that an ear- l i e r version of t h i s study of Stevens was rejected on the grounds that i t made abstruse what else was p e r f e c t l y c l e a r to everyone. In face of such objections, i t i s not enough to apostrophize the perversity of the gods, nor i s i t possible to become an apostate from the view that Stevens, by deliberate obscurations, sought to bring into being the i n e f f a b l e . An apologia i s needed that w i l l J u s t i f y both the a t t r i b u t i o n of obscurity to Stevens 1 work and the method used i n t h i s study to bring that obscurity to bear. It i s easy enough to prove that Stevens was an advocate of obscurity i n poetry. Both the s u p e r f i c i a l statement and the i l l u s t r a t i o n provided by the poem "Man Carrying Thing" make the point evident: The poem must r e s i s t the i n t e l l i g e n c e Almost successfully. I l l u s t r a t i o n ? A brune figure i n winter evening r e s i s t s Identity. The thing he c a r r i e s r e s i s t s The most necessitous sense. Accept them, then, As secondary (parts not quite perceived- Of the obvious whole, uncertain p a r t i c l e s Of the c e r t a i n s o l i d , the primary free from doubt, Things f l o a t i n g l i k e the f i r s t hundred flakes of snow Out .of a storm we must endure a l l night, Out of a storm of secondary things), A horror of thoughts that suddenly are r e a l . We must endure our thoughts a l l night, u n t i l The bright obvious stands motionless i n cold. (CP 3 5 0 - 5 D "Man Carrying Thing" i s not an obscure poem, but a poem about obscurity. It involves irony to be sure* the r e s o l u t i o n of the 4 problem of the desire f o r the one i n face of the world of the many, contained i n the f i n a l l i n e , i s such that shock i s sub- s t i t u t e d f o r the reader's tendency to share the quest of "the most necessitous sense," and then a profound yea-saying supplants the shock. But one can explicate the poem i n the normal way by de- manding of i t that i t uphold the d i c t a of the Rev. James Bowyer and exhibit the "reason assignable, not only f o r every word, but for the p o s i t i o n of every word."3 The figure i s "brune", for example, because the French word i s the only one which combines the necessary sense of the figure's intimate merging with the evening with the subtle suggestion of the savageness, the a n i - mality, of i t s English phoneme "bruin." ("Shambling" emerges as an unspoken word image.) The i n t e r r e l a t i o n s h i p s among words within the poem, are exact, natural, and e f f i c a c i o u s . The " s i m i l e " con- necting "the brune f i g u r e " and "the thing he c a r r i e s " with the f a l l i n g snow i s exact because, as dimly perceived and interdepend- ent parts of the evening, the q u a l i t i e s of one are perceived by the s t r a i n i n g "necessitous sense" as the q u a l i t i e s of both - as for- example the " f l o a t i n g " of the snow. The analogy between the concrete image of the evening and the i m p l i c i t image of the state of mind plagued by doubt and uncertainty i s natural because one's v i s i o n i s twofold and because the s t r a i n f e l t by the mind as i t seeks to perceive the truth (or the one, or i t s e l f ) i s l i k e the s t r a i n f e l t by the eyes as one seeks the i d e n t i t y of someone (or something) dimly seen. The two analogies together are e f f i c a c i o u s because the concreteness given the state of mind ("A horror of thoughts that suddenly are real") c a r r i e s past the technical point of departure to the awesome image of "the bright obvious". To explain why t h i s image i s awesome requires that a number of senses that occur simultaneously i n reading the poem be strung out i n succession, but c r i t i c i s m aims at explanation before e f f e c t . The image, then, inspires triumph and t e r r o r a l l . at once and i s , i n consequence, released from a l l motivation, to become an object f o r the perfect indifference of esthetic contem- p l a t i o n . (It i s what l a t e r i n t h i s paper w i l l be termed an existent image). The fear and p i t y derive, of course, from the concreteness given the image by the man-carrylng-thing of the t i t l e who, having already undergone the transformations induced by his environment (the animallty and darkness of brune and the movement and coldness of snow), i s now c r y s t a l l i z e d , quite l i t e r - a l l y , as the iceman standing neither a l i v e nor dead but free from such l i m i t e d d e f i n i t i o n s of existence and non-existence. The im- pulse of triumph comes because the reader, addressed d i r e c t l y by the narrator, desired to know the figure's i d e n t i t y and to know as a form of rescuing both the figure and himself from the "storm of secondary things." But the counter-impulse of fear follows because, known i n the "bright obvious," the figure i s u t t e r l y a l i e n , u t t e r l y unlike the human i d e n t i t y anticipated. The darkness of the many y i e l d s to the brightness of the one (one because "obvious" "stands motionless" and has, therefore, corporate being), but that brightness i s neither warm nor comforting. What happens i n t h i s poem i s not that the truth i s reduced to 'human understand- ing' but that human understanding i s elevated to t r u t h . By using the technique of d i r e c t address, Stevens has f i r s t I n t e n s i f i e d the solipsism that truth w i l l be found within the framework of human concepts of i d e n t i t y and r e a l i t y , then divided t h i s preconception 6 into the components of Stoic f a i t h - hope (induced by "the c e r t a i n s o l i d , the primary free from doubt") and indifference to pain (the command to "Accept, them, then, As secondary" and the asser- t i o n "we must endure a l l night"). The indifference engendered by "the bright obvious" i s Stevens' f i n a l move; i t i s an esthetic rather than a Stoic indifference. Stoic indifference i s f a l s e i n that i t derives i t s strength from hope and can be measured only i n terms of the i n t e n s i t y of f a i t h i n something as yet unpossessed. Esthetic indifference, however, i s possible only when the desire to possess which i s hope has been negated and consciousness has been freed from a l l attachments - i n t h i s case, from the negative bonds of the many and the p o s i t i v e bond to the one. Such an i n - difference I c a l l "a profound yea-saying" because i t depends upon achieving a state of consciousness i n which the d u a l i s t i c quandary that to a f f i r m one thing i s to deny another i s absolved by accept- ing both at once. Two proofs emerge from the explication of t h i s poem. One i s that "Man Carrying Thing" i s not an obscure poem; i t combines a philosophy of poetry with an act of poetry which can only be delineated clumsily i n prose explications but which, nonetheless, are amenable to e x p l i c a t i o n . The second proof supports the con- tention that Stevens i s an advocate of obscurity i n poetry. The analogy between the l i n e s "The poem must r e s i s t the i n t e l l i g e n c e / Almost successfully" and the i l l u s t r a t i o n makes i t obvious that Stevens wants his poems to undergo the same kind of obscurations as those suffered by "the brune f i g u r e " and that he wants t h i s for the same reason - to transform his reader's awareness from i t s normal state to a state of esthetic contemplation. To do so, 7 Stevens must posit preconceived i d e n t i t i e s f o r words and then transform those preconceptions. How he does so and why are questions which occupy the main body of t h i s paper. The proofs which emerge from "Man Carrying Thing" constitute an adequate apologia f o r a t t r i b u t i n g deliberate obscurity to Stevens' poetry. That they can also serve to defend the w i l f u l obscurations of Stevens' prose against the kind of charges made by Hough requires explanation. It i s a fact that even i n prose Stevens r e s i s t e d the kind of i d e n t i f i c a t i o n created by d e f i n i t i o n . In "The Noble Rider and the Sound of Words," f o r example, Stevens describes the concept of n o b i l i t y - the c e n t r a l concept of the essay - In these terms: I mean that n o b i l i t y which i s our s p i r i t u a l height and depth; and while I know how d i f f i c u l t i t i s to express i t , nevertheless I am bound to give a sense of i t . Nothing could be more evasive and inaccessible. Nothing d i s t o r t s i t s e l f and seeks disguise more quickly. There i s a shame i n d i s c l o s i n g i t and i n i t s d e f i n i t e presentations a horror of i t . But there i t i s . ... I am not thinking of the e t h i c a l or the sonorous or at a l l of the manner of i t . The manner of i t i s , i n f a c t , i t s d i f f i c u l t y , which each man must f e e l each day d i f f e r e n t l y , f o r himself. I am not thinking of the solemn, the portentous or demoded. On the other hand, I am evading a d e f i n i t i o n . If i t Is defined, i t w i l l be fixed and i t must not be f i x e d . (NA 33-3*1-) This i s as close as Stevens' reader w i l l get to a d i r e c t statement of " n o b i l i t y . " It should be noted, however, that the vagueness of the statement does not appear to be that of a man who doesn't know what he i s t a l k i n g about, nor i s i t solely a product of the d i f f i - c u l t y encountered by a l l writers of prose who wish to impose a comprehensive order upon a chaos of p o s s i b i l i t i e s . It i s the w i l f u l evasion of a man who f e e l s that "the l i f e of his concept w i l l be endangered by d e f i n i t i o n . Whether or not one feels that the evasion of d e f i n i t i o n i n 8 prose i s unacceptable Is beside the point. The point i s that Stevens did d e l i b e r a t e l y embody his esthetic theory i n obscure forms and those who want to study Stevens must, of necessity, be prepared to take into account and explain, not merely the theory, but the theory's mode of existence. Such, at l e a s t , i s the assumption upon which t h i s paper r e s t s . A detailed defence of the mode of existence of Stevens* theory i s part of the involvement i n the f i r s t part of t h i s paper. Intimations of the kind of defence i t w i l l o f f e r have already been given i n the defence of the mode of existence of his poetry. Suffice i t f o r now to say that to accept evasive prose as value i s to accept the consequence that such evasions are not then to be evaded by s i m p l i f i c a t i o n . It has been suggested to me, f o r example, that the concept of "central poetry" used herein as the nexus f o r a l l argu- ments and observations, i s explainable i n terms of Coleridge's d i s t i n c t i o n between primary and secondary imagination.^.While the suggestion i s a v a l i d and h e l p f u l one, there are several prohi- b i t i o n s , i m p l i c i t i n the nature of the subject, against following i t too c l o s e l y . There i s , to begin with, the obvious fact that Coleridge's d e f i n i t i o n s of the imagination are i n t e g r a l parts of a theory of poetry and a metaphysics which have to be explained as well and which, when explained, do not conform to the mode of existence Stevens demanded for the theory of "central poetry.", In t r u t h , t h i s objection i s one voiced by Stevens himself i n "The Figure of the Youth as V i r i l e Poet"s As poetry goes, as the imagination goes, as the approach to truth, or, say, to being by way of the imagination goes, Coleridge i s one of the great f i g u r e s . Even so, just as William James found i n Bergson a persistent euphony, so we f i n d i n Coleridge...a man who 9 may be said to have been defining poetry a l l h i s l i f e i n d e f i n i t i o n s that are v a l i d enough but which no longer impress us primarily by t h e i r v a l i d i t y . (NA kl) The second objection i s entailed by the f i r s t . Though he who made the suggestion was a man capable of comprehending the range of relationships which should and could be applied to any com- parison between the theories of Stevens and Coleridge, i t i s not possible to a f f i r m that a l l c r i t i c s who would make the comparison possess h i s exactitude. When the subject of the comparison recurs i n the f i r s t part of t h i s paper, an example drawn from a c r i t i c of Stevens w i l l a f f o r d concrete evidence of the d i s t o r t i o n s which occur when s i m p l i f i e d comparisons are attempted. The point i s appropriate not only to a description of the importance of modes of existence f o r Stevens, but also to a defence of the methodology of this paper. The whole of t h i s paper i s , quite properly i n my view, an exercise i n apologetics. Its aim i s to e s t a b l i s h what Stevens' theory of poetry i_s, by a process of d i a l e c t i c a l argument, and to demonstrate pragmatically that the theory thus established i s , indeed, the one that informs his poetry. But that aim could not be accomplished i f the paper did not include an affirmation of the value of Stevens' theory and p r a c t i c e . Benet's comment - "Stevens' mind dwells with v e l l e - i t l e s that may well be unimportant - but who i s to say they are?"-5- i s facetious; i f they are " v e l l e i t i e s " the poems and the prose which d i s c l o s e them are vapid. Poetry i s an act of wholeness, a theory of poetry i s a defence of the importance of that act, and c r i t i c i s m must be an explanation of that act, that defence and that Importance. The long arguments and laborious explications that compose 10 the body of t h i s paper are, then, meant as guarantees not only of the importance of Stevens' work but of the T i g h t n e s s of t h i s kind of approach. Every e f f o r t has been made to avoid the p i t - f a l l s pointed out so v i v i d l y by the presence therein of previous c r i t i c s of Stevens. To explain what those p i t f a l l s are i s to explain why t h i s paper i s what i t i s . The fact that t h i s paper contains no survey of Stevens* poems, f o r example, can be j u s t i f i e d by the assertion that surveys made previous to a thorough understanding of i n d i v i d u a l poems are premature and can only lead to d i s t o r t i o n . Frank Kermode's survey Wallace Stevens, written as a contribution to the Writers and C r i t i c s s e r i e s , i s a case i n point. In discussing Stevens' f e a l t y to " r e a l i t y , " Kermode quotes his proofs from l i n e s of poetry taken out of context (the f i r s t underlining i s mine): It { r e a l i t y ] i s always that upon which the l i g h t of the mind must beat, i l l u m i n a t i n g , warming, but not changing i t . It matters where you see i t from: There are men whose words Are as natural sounds Of t h e i r places As the crackle of toucans- and also, *I am what i s around me.'" Inasmuch as the two poems from which these l i n e s are taken, "Anecdote of Men By the Thousand" and "Theory," are not d i d a c t i c , Kermode's proof i s u n i n t e l l i g i b l e and his use of the l i n e s a d i s t o r t i o n . The context of both poems reveals, when considered, that the mind's r e l a t i o n to "place" (Kermode's term f o r r e a l i t y ) i s experienced i n ways t o t a l l y opposite to that suggested by Kermode. In "Anecdote of Men By the Thousand" the speaker of the l i n e s quoted by Kermode i s the "he" of the opening - "The soul, he said, i s composed/Of the external world" (CP 51) - a nd the function of the f i n a l two stanzas i s to i n t e r j e c t , by means (for p r a c t i c a l 11 purposes) of narrative voice, an i r o n i c contradiction of the thesis propounded by "he": Are there mandolines of western mountains? Are there, mandolines of northern moonlight? The dress of a woman of Lhassa, In i t s place, Is an i n v i s i b l e element of that place Made v i s i b l e . (CP 52) A bare statement of the contradiction would be that the external world i s a composition of the soul, or, to use Kermode's terms, that the mind does indeed "change" r e a l i t y , not only at s i g n i f - icant moments but also during i t s day to day existence. But the contradiction i s experienced as a series of subtle a l t e r a t i o n s of the content of "he's" statement. The most obvious a l t e r a t i o n i s "an i n v i s i b l e element of that place" which i s the woman's soul "made v i s i b l e " by the " r e a l " dress acting quite e x p l i c i t y as embodiment, as manifest symbol of soul. The fact that the "woman" i s "of Lhassa" i s a d e l i g h t f u l stroke, since Lhassa (Lhasa) i s a holy c i t y (for Buddhists) comparable, i n most respects, to Mecca and Jerusalem and everyone knows the anagogic propensities of holy c i t i e s . One could deepen the stroke, speculatively, by commenting that Buddhism admits women as monks and the robes worn by Buddhist monks are reincarnations of the Buddha's way of l i f e ? - of, i n other words, an i n v i s i b l e i d e a l emanating from both the i n d i v i d u a l soul and the One Soul. But even without such spec- u l a t i o n s , there are the minor a l t e r a t i o n s i n the concept of place which help to bring to l i g h t the contradiction i n "he's" thesis that had been i m p l i c i t from the beginning. Place i s shown to be a r e l a t i v e concept of the soul as indicated by the narrator's two questions. "He" had spoken of "the East" i n c a p i t a l s (and 12 here, again, note the subtle i r o n i c prelude to Lhassa and the anagoglc l e v e l ) , as though i t were a place, but the poem proves that "the East" i s a conceived rather than perceived place by. p o s i t i n g "western mountains" and "northern moonlight." Moon- l i g h t i s not a place at a l l ; i t exists i n r e f l e c t i o n everywhere and i t s d i r e c t i o n depends upon which way the observer faces. Western mountains heighten the r e l a t i v i t y of d i r e c t i o n , and they also contrast with the "valleys" of the "men of a valley/Who are that v a l l e y . " The contrast i s one between circumscribed views and l i m i t l e s s v i s i o n . The irony i m p l i c i t i n 'he's* statement i s thus brought f u l l y to l i g h t ; i f one says "The soul... i s composed/of the external world", one i s saying i n e v i t a b l y that the external world i s a manifestation of the soul. Stevens was fond of this kind of i r o n i c inversion. It can be seen, for example, i n "Tattoo" (CP 81), where what begins as an invasion of the i n t e r n a l by the external ends as an assault of the i n t e r n a l upon the external; and i t can be seen i n the f l u c t u - ations of sense between opposition and i d e n t i t y that characterize the r e l a t i o n between the two themes of "The Comedian as the Letter C»: Nota: man i s the i n t e l l i g e n c e of his soil...(CP 27) Notaj his s o i l i s man's i n t e l l i g e n c e . (CP 36) Inversion can be seen too, although not as e x p l i c i t l y , i n the second of the poems used by Kermode for i l l u s t r a t i o n - "Theory": I am what i s around me. Women understand t h i s . One i s not a duchess A hundred yards from a carriage. These, then, are p o r t r a i t s : 13 A black vestibule; A high bed sheltered by curtains. These are merely instances. The irony here i s developed on two fronts. The simple assertion "I am what i s around me" i s forced to i t s own contradiction by the f i n a l l i n e ; i f one went on multiplying instances the doc- t r i n e *I am everything' would inevitably emerge. But t h i s i s a very funny poem and i t i s a Stevens armed with r i d i c u l e who c a r r i e s out the major attack against h i s narrator's t h e s i s . The vanity of women would lead them quickly to the necessity of the carriage as a setting and foundation for t h e i r glory, but "a black v e s t i b u l e " and "a high bed sheltered by curtains," though l o g i c a l extensions of the carriage, x^rould hardly command the same acceptance. Thackeray's fundamental law - 'above a l l , been seen' - Is not to be taken l i g h t l y . Women w i l l surround themselves with carriages f o r purposes of portraiture - but vestibules and beds (though these, too, undoubtedly have t h e i r purpose) never. But the aspect of the o r i g i n a l thesis made ridiculous by the analogy of the women i s i t s r e f u s a l to grant any powers or sovereignty to the i n d i v i d u a l ' I ' or psyche. That r e f u s a l Is seen, by analogy, to involve the same cattiness as that displayed by women who would l i m i t the q u a l i t y of a duchess to the trappings of a duchess - who, i n short, would l i m i t beauty i n others to costume and cos- metics and, by so doing, destroy the p o s s i b i l i t y of beauty i n themselves. So the l i n e "I am what i s around me" - which Kermode quotes to prove a point about the poetic theory and practice of Stevens - has, i n r e a l i t y , nothing whatsoever to do with Stevens' theoret- i c a l p o s i t i o n and concerns his practice only i n so f a r as i t can Ik be shown by explicating i t s context that the l i n e demonstrates his technique f o r bringing out the ambiguities of a l l »x i s y' d e f i n i t i o n s . While i t i s true that the d i s t o r t i o n s engendered by the l i t e r a l t r a n s l a t i o n of l i n e s of poetry into prose statement can be avoided by observing the elementary d i s t i n c t i o n between nar- r a t i v e voice and the poet's 'point of view,' the practice i s , i n r e a l i t y , i n d i c a t i v e of an excusable eagerness on the part of Stevens' c r i t i c s to make his poetry meaningful and to escape, thereby, forced acquiescence i n the proposition that something which moves them deeply i s nothing but pretence, or, to use Winters* term, "pseudo-mysticism."^ That such eagerness leads, even i n c a r e f u l c r i t i c i s m , to the d i s t o r t i o n s of interpretive t r a n s l a t i o n can be demonstrated by choosing two i l l u s t r a t i o n s , both involving poems which ' r e s i s t the i n t e l l i g e n c e . ' The f i r s t of these i l l u s t r a t i o n s comes from William Van O'Connor's e x p l i c a t i o n of "Fabliau of F l o r i d a . " (I quote at length because I want the r e l a t i o n s h i p between O'Connor's e x p l i - cation and his basic c r i t i c a l p o s i t i o n to be seen c l e a r l y . With the exception of the sentence "The barque could be poetry or a human being," the underlining i s mine.) Stevens' usual, or at least very frequent, method i n writing a poem i s to make a general i n i t i a l statement. Thus i n one of the sections of Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction? Two things of opposite nature (sic3 seem to depend On one another, as a man depends On a woman, day on night, the imagined On the r e a l . This i s the o r i g i n of change. Usually, too, the statement i s elaborated, q u a l i f i e d , enlarged, and probed. And a l l the while, there i s being evoked, as well, by means of metaphor, variant phrases, and the employment of d e f t l y appropriate rhythms, a conviction or strong sense of the experience generalized 15 about i n the introductory abstraction. In "Fabliau of F l o r i d a , " from Harmonium, the generalization i s held u n t i l the f i n a l couplet. The couplet i s not quite abstract and i s therefore hardly t y p i c a l , but the method of the poem i s i n d i c a t i v e of much else that i s charac- t e r i s t i c of his method. Barque of phosphor On the palmy beach, Move outward Into heaven Into the alabasters And night blues. Foam and cloud are one. Sultry moon monsters Are d i s s o l v i n g {sic] F i l l your black h u l l With white moonlight [sic] There w i l l never be an end To t h i s droning of the surf. The Statement," there w i l l never be an answer to the mystery i n which we l i v e , i s c l e a r enough. The roaring of the sea, the d i s s o l v i n g clouds, and the firmament extend the simple "statement," giving us as i t were convincing and moving proof. Because we are i n and a part of t h i s world we should accept i t i n i t s f u l l n e s s - l i v e l i v e s of the s e n s i b i l i t i e s and imagination. The language i s both ambiguous and suggestive. The barque could be poetry or a human being. The luminous barque f l o a t s on a dark sea; the beach i s r i c h with physical l i f e ; the sky i s b e a u t i f u l with b r i l l i a n t l y contrasting "alabaster" and "night blue (sicj,^ the alabaster repeat- ing the whiteness of "phosphor" and preparing for the whiteness and suggestions thereof i n "foam," "cloud," "moonlight," and surf and the symbolism of blue and moonlight s i g n i f y i n g the realm of s e n s i b i l i t y and imagination which the poet would not have us neglect or deny.V" Those who f i n d O'Connor's e x p l i c a t i o n of "Fabliau of F l o r i d a " i l l u m i n a t i n g , or even admlssable as c r i t i c i s m , w i l l no doubt f e e l that t h i s paper i s nothing but the most arrant nonsense. On the other hand, those who share my sense of dumfoundment. at the travesties of c r i t i c a l p r i n c i p l e contained therein w i l l r e a l i z e that O'Connor's e x p l i c a t i o n i s the product of a fundamental c o n f l i c t between two theories of the nature and function of poetry. 16 Clearly perceivable behind O'Connor's e x p l i c a t i o n i s the assump- t i o n that poetry i s , or ought to be, what I c a l l euhemeristic. But the poem i t s e l f i s quite obviously based upon, and amenable only to, theories of poetry which I c a l l hermetic. The d i s t i n c - t i o n between euhemeristic and hermetic theories i s a d i f f i c u l t one to make c l e a r , because i t i s , i n the f i n a l a n a l y s i s , a d i s - t i n c t i o n between two a r t i f i c i a l l y r i g i d philosophies rather than a philosophical d i s t i n c t i o n . I f I were to characterize the euhemeristic theory, f o r example, as thorough-going humanitarian- ism, I would make i t appear that hermetic theories were based upon a r e a l or "pseudo" mysticism, whereas the hermetic view that the function of poetry i s e i t h e r primarily or wholly 'esthetic* i s , i n a c t u a l i t y , merely the product of an emphasis upon bursting the bonds of a narrow humanitarian!sm. To say that the d i v i s i o n i s fundamental i s one thing; to say that the two theories are of necessity mutually exclusive i s another. A digression upon the d i s t i n c t i o n between these theories i s mandatory because i t i s a d i s t i n c t i o n which explains why Stevens was so r e t i c e n t about d e f i n i t i o n s of h i s theory. It w i l l emerge c l e a r l y i n the f i r s t part of t h i s paper that Stevens* theory of poetry i s one which negates the a r t i f i c i a l d i s t i n c t i o n between the two by destroying the most extreme premiss of each - the euhemer- i s t i c doctrine that terms l i k e God, soul, and poetry should be explained i n terms of psychological or s o c i o l o g i c a l or some-kind- o f - l o g i c a l phenomena. and the hermetic doctrine that a l l the absolute things, l i k e God, soul, and poetry, are not demonstrable i n man's mere terms and can be known only through b e l i e f . Stevens* whole e f f o r t was directed toward proving that the hermetic 17 acceptance of absolutes could be reached, and indeed must i n - •• evitably be reached, through the euhemeristlc. His aim, i n other words, was to transform the euhemeristlc into the hermetic. This i s not the same as saying that he wanted the hermetic to become the euhemeristic because the euhemeristic i s , by v i r t u e of i t s mode of existence, directed towards the exclusion of c e r t a i n human attitudes or states of mind, while the hermetic, because of the absolute nature of i t s postulates, must be p o t e n t i a l l y capable of including everything. To object to T i n d a l l ' s observation - "By h i s Stevens* prose you can prove anything you like"10 - i s to give a sense of the difference; proving the accord of everything i s not l i k e proving "anything you l i k e . " The trouble with O'Connor's explication of "Fabliau of F l o r i d a " i s not that i t exhibits the same kind of unfortunate misreading that led O'Connor to a t t r i b u t e to Stevens Tate's t r i b u t e to T.S. E l i o t , H but that i t passes over the r e a l act of the poem i n a f r a n t i c attempt to make i t conform to euhemeristic preconceptions of the nature and function of poetry. O'Connor assumes that the function of the poem i s to say something to someone; and he gives his reader two related statements which supposedly issue from the poem - "The 'statement,' there w i l l never be an answer to the mystery i n which we l i v e . . . " and the statement "Because we are i n and a part of t h i s world we should accept i t i n i t s f u l l n e s s - l i v e l i v e s of the s e n s i b i l i t e s and imagination." The f i r s t of these statements i s applicable to the poem only i n so f a r as i t i s applicable to thousands of poems; as an e x p l i c a t i o n of the l a s t two l i n e s i t i s meaningless. "There w i l l never be an end/To t h i s droning of the surf" i s not addressed 18 to O'Connor's "we"; It Is a narrative comment made at the conclu- sion of a series of commands addressed to the "Barque of phosphor." The second of O'Connor's statements purports to e l i c i t from the poem a moral law; i t suggests, i n other words, that the poet i s making a plea for a c e r t a i n course of action, a c e r t a i n way of l i v i n g . Again, as a general observation about what poets do i n - d i r e c t l y i n publishing t h e i r poems, this statement i s probably true; but any d i r e c t connection between i t and the poem i s garnered only by a process that makes a mockery of the concept of "symbolism." O'Connor i s right when he says that the language of the poem " i s both ambiguous and suggestive," but when he attempts to make con- crete Images y i e l d a statement of abstract terms f i r s t by spec- u l a t i n g that the barque of phosphor "could be poetry or a human being" and then by dogmatically asserting "the symbolism of blue and moonlight s i g n i f y ... the realm of s e n s i b i l i t y and the imagina- t i o n " - he wantonly destroys the very q u a l i t y of suggestiveness upon which the poem, as poem, depends. I f the relationship between abstract statement and concrete image were r e a l l y as O'Connor suggests, people who read symbolist poetry would do better to turn to philosophy. In point of f a c t , one can read "Fabliau of F l o r i d a " i n the a l l e g o r i c a l manner O'Connor suggests. One then sees, "poetry or a man, from the midst of a r i c h physical l i f e ("the beach i s r i c h with physical l i f e " ) "Move outxvard" into "the realm of s e n s i b i l i t y and imagination," because, presumably, "he" or " i t " has to accept the world " i n i t s f u l l n e s s . " That the r e s u l t of such a reading i s both a r b i t r a r y and unsatisfying should be obvious. But neither i s i t s a t i s f a c t o r y to echo Holmes and say that Stevens i s "... one of 19 the best non-communicating poets of our day"12 because such a claim would validate Yvor Winters' major objection against Stevens' kind of poem: ...The chief disadvantage i s that i t renders i n t e l l i - g i b l e discussion of art Impossible, and i t relegates art to the p o s i t i o n of an esoteric indulgence, possibly though not c e r t a i n l y harmless.. . . . 1 3 The question i s not one of whether "Fabliau of F l o r i d a " communi- cates but of what i t communicates, and the only way to f i n d out i s to read the poem without making assumptions about the function of poetry and without, i f possible, preconceptions. Read i n t h i s manner, the poem y i e l d s an hermetic rather than a euhemeristic 'meaning.* To begin with, the reader sees i n "Barque of phosphor" purely a barque of phosphor; there i s nothing i n the poem to suggest that he should i d e n t i f y himself or any abstraction with i t . He then traces the suggestions of movement commanded by the narra- t i v e voice and l i s t e n s to the two formal statements of stanza three and stanza f i v e . Unless he i s capable of rapid a s s i m i l a t i o n , that i s about a l l the reader w i l l get from a f i r s t reading. But even from that f i r s t reading i t has become obvious that the com- mands of the narrative voice are complex and somehow grouped around and j u s t i f i e d by the formal analogy "Foam and cloud are one." In breaking down the complexity of command, the reader w i l l note that there i s an opposition between the d i r e c t i o n of " t h i s droning of the surf" and the command "Move outward into heaven." He w i l l -also note that the r e l a t i o n between sky and sea, established by the formal analogy, does depend on the "alabasters" of the clouds seen against a setting of "night blues" and the corresponding 20 whiteness of foam frothed up by the dark sea as i t meets the shore and becomes surf. He i s now capable of two extensions of the correspondence. The f i r s t i s that the contradiction involved i n the command " P i l l your black hull/With white moonlight" i s analo- gous to the r e a l i z e d contradiction between sea and foam, cloud and sky. The second extension w i l l come when he has questioned the f i r s t l i n e . To say, as O'Connor does, that "the luminous bark f l o a t s on a dark sea" i s to man i t with the three wise men of Gotham. The barque of phosphor i s a curious c r a f t ; were i t a f l o a t , one could agree.with O'Connor's v i s i o n and a t t r i b u t e the phrase "of phosphor" to the phosphorescent wake l e f t by boats at dusk; but the barque i s "On the palmy, beach" and the command that i t "Move outward into heaven" i s not followed immediately (since i n stanza four the barque i s s t i l l , as i t x\rere, taking on cargo). But what does "of phosphor" mean then? It can mean that the barque i s made of a phosphorescent substance, l i k e decayed wood, or i t can mean, l i t e r a l l y , that the barque i s made of phosphorus ( i t s "black h u l l " would then be a product of the transparent a l l o t r o p l c form subjected to great pressure), or, p o e t i c a l l y , that i t i s the barque of the morning star. In point of f a c t , a l l three meanings are relevant to the poem. If one takes the 'most r e a l i s t i c * pos- s i b i l i t y f i r s t , one establishes the image of the d e r e l i c t h u l l , no longer seaworthy, abandoned on the beach. I f one then superimposes the v a l i d analogy between the wood's phosphorescence and the prop- e r t i e s of phosphorus, one has an image of a boat which i s capable of acting on the narrator's impossible commands. The chain of transformation here i s from the transparent allotrope which can e x i s t as a c r y s t a l l i n e substance i n a i r and which, through pressure, 21 i s transformed into the powdery substance of the black a l l o t r o p e , to the pure white phosphorus, which can be obtained by melting the black a l l o t r o p e , and which ignites i n a i r . The relevance of these transformations i s immediately v e r i f i a b l e by the exact image they evoke. "Sultry moon-monsters/Are d i s s o l v i n g , " and as the black h u l l f i l l s with moonlight i t appears to disappear. Instead of .the v i s i b l e shape of a black h u l l on sand, there i s a moment of s i l v e r i n g i n which the black h u l l loses i t s shape i n the i n t e n s i t y of l i g h t . It i s one of those moments of b r i l l i a n t ' p f t t ' to which one's v i s i o n i s occasionally e n t i t l e d and i n "Fabliau of F l o r i d a " i t i s used to r e a l i z e the narrator's desire. What hap- pens i s that as the moonlight h i t s the boat i t appears to peel away the black h u l l , to make i t move away from where i t was; and i f the eye follows t h i s apparent movement i t w i l l f i n d the movement's extension, not i n the sea because there i s an opposition of d i r e c - t i o n , but i n , say, the morning star which appears to be moving as fast as the boat because i t too takes i t s movement, d i r e c t i o n and speed from the clouds* movement across the sky. The moonlight gives to the barque Its appearence of movement, but i t i s the star which retains i t s substance. The analysis i s not yet complete. To t h i s point, the endea- vor has been to explain what happens i n the poem, but any c r i t i c a l account must be able to explain why what happens i s l e g i t i m a t e l y c a l l e d poetry. Were the poem as devoid of human concern as the reader's e x p l i c a t i o n has thus f a r made i t appear, i t would be tempting to return to the I n s p i r a t i o n a l d i s t o r t i o n s of O'Connor. But the narrative voice of "Fabliau of F l o r i d a " i s a human one and i t s role i n the poem explains why what happens i s poetry. In 22 e f f e c t , what happens to the barque i s an intimation of transcen- dence, a momentary proof of the f l u i d nature of r e a l i t y . The poetic analogy" "Foam and cloud are one," becomes b r i e f l y , a philosophical analogy because the barque appears to be able to s a i l the sky. Such a coupling of reason and the imagination was of primary importance to Stevenst . . . i f an imaginative idea s a t i s f i e s the imagination, we are i n d i f f e r e n t to the fact that i t does not s a t i s f y the reason, although we concede that i t would be com- plete, as an idea, i f , i n addition to s a t i s f y i n g the imagination, i t also s a t i s f i e d the reason. From t h i s analysis, we deduce that an idea that s a t i s f i e s both the reason and the imagination, i f i t happened, f o r instance, to be an idea of God, would e s t a b l i s h a divine beginning and end f o r us which, at the moment, the reason, singly, at best proposes and on which, at the moment, the Imagination, singly, merely meditates. This i s an i l l u s t r a t i o n . It seems elementary, from t h i s point of view, that the poet, i n order to f u l f i l l himself, must accomplish a poetry that s a t i s f i e s both the reason and the imagination. It does not follow that i n the long run the poet w i l l f i n d himself i n the p o s i t i o n i n which the philosopher now finds himself. On the contrary, i f the end of the philosopher i s despair, the end of the poet i s f u l f i l l m e n t , since the poet finds a sanction for l i f e i n poetry that s a t i s f i e s the imagination. (NA kZ-kJ) Such i s the value of the barque's momentary transcendence. It should be emphasized, however, that neither Stevens nor the narrative voice of "Fabliau of F l o r i d a " would attempt to palm o f f an evanescent t r i c k of the moonlight as mint transcendence. The poem ends with the admission "There w i l l never be an end/To t h i s droning of the surf." It i s , i n the context of the poem, the monotonous pressure of the surf that has driven the barque to i t s grave ashore and which represents the energy of l i m i t a t i o n . It i s t h i s almost intangible sense of l i m i t a t i o n that the narrator r e s i s t s by indulging i n his mental game of counter-move. The f i n a l two l i n e s are an admission, not of defeat, but of L- 2 3 relinquishment. In making his moves, the narrator has won trans- cendence for the barque, but a l l his pieces have been used. The ephemeral forces of-the moonlight are not as permanent as the i n s i s t e n t sea. Both the poem and narrator's point of view exemplify what must be c l a s s i f i e d i n the catalogue of Stevens' categories as the exercise - one of the ways i n which "the figure of a youth as v i r i l e poet" expends his energy: Having elected to exercise his power to the f u l l and at i t s height, and having i d e n t i f i e d his power as the power of the imagination, he may begin i t s exercise by study- ing i t i n exercise and proceed l i t t l e by l i t t l e , as he becomes his own master, to those violences which are the maturity of h i s desires. (NA 63-64) It i s noteworthy that such exercises as "Fabliau of F l o r i d a " are not to be considered merely as i s o l a t e d instances of a tenuous e s t h e t i c , but as paving stones on the way to f u l f i l l m e n t . Nor i s there much doubt about the nature of that f u l f i l l m e n t i n Stevens' mind: „ In t h i s state of elevation we f e e l p e r f e c t l y adapted to the idea that moves and l'oiseau qui chante. The i d e n t i t y of the f e e l i n g i s subject to discussion and, from t h i s , i t follows that i t s value i s debatable. It may be dismissed, on the one hand, as a commonplace aesthetic s a t i s f a c t i o n ; and, on the other hand, i f we say that the idea of God i s merely a poetic idea, even i f the supreme poetic idea, and that our notions of heaven and h e l l are merely poetry not so c a l l e d , even i f poetry that involves us v i t a l l y , the f e e l i n g of deliverance, of a release, of a perfection touched, of a vocation so that a l l men may know the truth and that the truth may set them free - i f we say these things and i f we are able to see the poet who achieved God and placed Him i n His seat i n heaven i n a l l His glory, the poet himself, s t i l l i n the ecstacy of the poem that completely accomplished his purpose, would have seemed, whether young or old, whether i n rags or ceremonial robe, a man who needed what he created, u t t e r i n g the hymns of ;j.oy that followed h i s creation. (NA 51) Should there be any doubt about what Stevens Is saying here, I should l i k e to resolve i t by quoting a comparable comment by Valeryj 2k I consider that the essence of Poetry i s , according to d i f f e r e n t types of minds, either quite worthless or of i n f i n i t e importance? i n which i t i s l i k e God Himself.1^ It may appear that the i l l u s t r a t i v e use of O'Connor's d i s t o r t i o n of "Fabliau of F l o r i d a " has been stretched too f a r , but i t is p r e c i s e l y the f a i l u r e to recognize the hermetic concept of transcendence that constitutes the c r i m i n a l i t y of euhemeristic c r i t i c s . They attempt to give worth to poetry by making i t into something else and, i n so doing, they discard the l i f e of poetry and leave t h e i r readers with the trash of terms. The second i l l u s t r a t i o n of the p i t f a l l s of interpretive c r i t i c i s m i s p a r a l l e l to the f i r s t and I use i t only to define one of the necessary l i m i t s to t h i s paper. The i l l u s t r a t i o n involves the poem "The V i r g i n Carrying a Lantern": There are no bears among the roses, Only a negress who supposes Things f a l s e and wrong About the lantern of the beauty Who walks there, as a farewell duty, Walks long and long. The p i t y that her pious egress Should f i l l the v i g i l of a negress With heat so strong! (CP 71) Two responses to t h i s poem, when placed together, accurately delineate the dilemma of Stevens' c r i t i c s . The f i r s t response i s Richard Watson's and the second T i n d a l l ' s : It i s appropriate that aphrodlsiacal night should be the time that v i r g i n s , i n " l e t t i n g themselves go" should lose what, i n the r e a l i s t i c l i g h t of day, they would guard - t h e i r maidenhead. ...Here i s an aspect of our study of self-completion, the sexual aspect. ...The symbol of individuation here...is the garden, occur- r i n g constantly with t h i s function from the book of Genesis to T.S. E l i o t ' s Burnt Norton. In t h i s d e l i g h t f u l l i t t l e poem, the white v i r g i n who i s approaching consummation i s watched by a 25 frustrated negro woman, who suspects what Is to occur.^5 In Stevens' l i t t l e scene the d e t a i l s , which have the c l a r i t y of dream, share dream's darkness despite that lantern. What are the v i r g i n and her observer doing there? Why are there no bears among the roses? Like a metaphor of Stevens' magnifico, t h i s s i t u a t i o n " w i l l not declare i t s e l f yet i s c e r t a i n as meaning." Evad- ing analysis, "The V i r g i n Carrying a Lantern" i s i n - d e f i n i t e l y suggestive. . . . I t i s a strange experience, and i t s meaning, l i k e that of a picture, i s what i t i s . "A poem," says Stevens i n "Adagia," "need not have a meaning and l i k e most things in nature often does not have."l° Watson's c r i t i c i s m i s part of an attempt to f i t Stevens' Harmonium poems into a framework constructed from "...a combination of a n a l y t i c modes developed by Sigmund Freud and C.C. Jung, the psychologists, and Kenneth Burke, the post-Colerldglan l i t e r a r y c r i t i c . " 1 ? Though, i n p r i n c i p l e , Watson's approach i s s i g n i f i c a n t , one cannot escape the f e e l i n g that his 'psychological dramatism' i s wrongfully applied when i t makes of "the beauty/Who walks there, as a farewell duty" the image of a woman ' l e t t i n g herself go.' Once again, the a p p l i c a t i o n of t h e o r e t i c a l terminology has sup- planted p r a c t i c a l c r i t i c i s m and resulted i n euhemeristic d i s t o r - t i o n s . But what are the results of p r a c t i c a l c r i t i c i s m i n t h i s case? T i n d a l l asks the p r a c t i c a l questions, but he gives no answers. To say, "Evading analysis, "The V i r g i n Carrying a Lantern* i s i n d e f i n i t e l y suggestive" i s to say that a poem i s no more mean- i n g f u l than a woman's face or a summer's cloud. Both Watson and T i n d a l l are I n t e l l i g e n t c r i t i c s and the p o s s i b i l i t y that t h e i r d i f f i c u l t i e s are due to dullness can be dismissed at once. They are, rather, i n d i c a t i v e of a problem pointed out by Frank Doggett as recently as 1959. "For any reader of Stevens the p r i n c i p a l d i f f i c u l t y i s to know what each poem 26 r e a l l y .is. This i s more than a matter of knowing what i t means."1^ The resolution of that problem i s a task which demands a itfhole body of c r i t i c i s m .written on the basis of a single set of p r i n c i p l e s ; "The V i r g i n Carrying a Lantern" demonstrates why. In actual f a c t , the poem can be analyzed by a c r i t i c either purely pragmatic or else theoretic only to the extent that he expects poetry to be a wholeness of sense. Such a c r i t i c would answer T i n d a l l ' s question about the f i r s t l i n e by noting that "bears" i n conjunction with v i r g i n s are not to be seen as animals but as the v i r g i n votaries of Artemis who, during the Brauronian r i t e s of i n i t i a t i o n , were c a l l e d 'bears' i n recognition of the goddess* connection with that animal.^ 9 The relevance of the s u b s t i t u t i o n of a "negress" for the v i r g i n s about to be dedicated to the i d e a l of v i r g i n i t y he would explain by noting the h i s t o r i c degeneration of the Artemis c u l t , c l a s s i c a l l y known for i t s e t h i c a l p u r i t y , through i t s intermingling with the o r g i a s t i c c u l t of Hecate, a c u l t which s t i l l survives among the negro p r a c t i t i o n e r s of voodoo i n the West Indies and the Southern United States, and perhaps among witches everywhere. Seen i n t h i s l i g h t , the poem i s a s a t i r e on the subject of myth; i t s a t i r i z e s the degeneration of myth into s u p e r s t i t i o n and the consequent substitution of the energy of mundane human desires for the power of high ideals to l i f t human conduct above i t s ordinary l e v e l . Such a c r i t i c could go to great lengths to prove h i s reading legimate without any actual misreading of the poem. He could i n s i s t , for example, that the suppositions of the negress are not concerned with what the v i r g i n i s going to do. Those who read the l i n e s "Things f a l s e and wrong/About the lantern of the beauty/Who walks there as a farewell duty/Walks there as a farewell duty/ Walks long and long" as though they proved that the v i r g i n i s "approaching consummation" are forced to the contradictory view that the v i r g i n i s carrying the lantern as a signal to her lover and at the same time i s carrying i t because i t i s a duty imposed i n connection to her farewell to v i r g i n i t y . Such a reading, i n e f f e c t , grants the alleged supposition of the negress, and can disagree only with her 'moral reaction'; i n short, such a reading must end with an encomium on how good i t i s for v i r g i n s to give up t h e i r maidenheads and what a p i t y i t i s that the negress cannot see the esthetic charm of the act. Howard Baker's i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of the poem i s a case i n point: The point of t h i s poem i s that a pious action i s mistaken f o r lechery ... The clash of interpretations i s gay and i r o n i c , but i t i s also a serious matter; f o r such clashes are what make a l l moral decision d i f f l c u l t . . . T h e poem i s s l i g h t l y ambiguous i n that x\re are not t o l d s p e c i f i c a l l y why the v i r g i n walks abroad with a lantern... we may guess that the v i r g i n i s concerned with her state of v i r g i n i t y and intends to part from it.20 A pragmatic reading, however, reveals that i t i s the suppo- s i t i o n s of the negress and of Baker and Watson (a c l e a r case of g u i l t by association) which are "false and wrong." The "things" which the negress supposes have to do with "the lantern of the beauty"; there i s no s y n t a c t i c a l necessity f o r assuming that the negress' suppositions are about the function of the l i g h t and not about i t s nature. In other words, one of the "Things f a l s e and wrong" i s the fact that the "pious egress" of the v i r g i n "should f i l l the v i g i l of a negress/With heat so strong!" The fact that egress means, l i t e r a l l y , 'a going out' points up the transforma- t i o n of l i g h t into heat that here takes place and helps to prove the pragmatic reading of degeneration. " V i g i l " i s used i r o n i c a l l y , 28 to denote the difference between the purposeful wakefulness of the negress and the r e l i g i o u s v i g i l formerly kept by "bears." The "pious egress" of the v i r g i n i s not her "farewell duty," but the consequence of that duty. Thus the duty of the v i r g i n can be seen as an expression of that obligation on the part of gods and goddesses to l i f t men out of the sensuous darkness by the shining example of the immortal i d e a l . That the v i r g i n ' s duty i s here a "farewell duty" i s either an atrocious pun on human welfare or i t refers to the fact that though the gods of myth have deserted the world of r e a l i t y they have l e f t i n t h e i r stead s t i l l - l i v i n g i d e a l s . Her egress i s "pious" for two reasons; because i t i s i n the nature of i n i t i a t i o n that the l i v i n g i d e a l of v i r g i n i t y should be trans- ferred from embodiment i n the goddess to embodiment i n her "bears" - from the h i e r a t i c to the human - and the transfer necessitates the withdrawal of the goddess, and because the debasement of an • i d e a l , i n the s a t i r i c context, i s not to be countenanced by a goddess whose very existence i s devoted to that i d e a l . The pragmatic reading of "The V i r g i n Carrying a Lantern" creates no c o n f l i c t with the theoretic concept of transcendence as the function of poetry, discussed i n r e l a t i o n to "Fabliau of F l o r i d a " and suggested by the analysis of "Man Carrying Thing." It i s true that the poem appears to be about transcendence rather than being i t s e l f transcendent - i t i s a peculiar q u a l i t y of s a t i r e that i t i s negative i n so f a r as i t s emphasis i s upon negation rather than creation. But the elements of transcendence are there i n the opposition between the human misuse of embodiments of the i d e a l and the p o s s i b i l i t y of human transcendence from one l e v e l of existence to another by incorporation of i d e a l values 29 into the psyche, just as the intense desire for a pure love i s evident i n John Donne *s "Song; 'Go and catch a f a l l i n g star.*" Mo, the problem created by t h i s reading concerns Stevens' tech- nique rather than his theory and, by i n d i r e c t i o n , c r i t i c a l ap- proaches. The reading appears to depend upon the recognition of an a l l u s i o n and consequently the body of the poem seems to be d e r i v a t i v e . This brings up! the problem of allusiveness i n poetry - a problem ably discussed by Wlmsatt i n The Verbal Icon: The frequency and depth of l i t e r a r y a l l u s i o n i n the poetry of E l i o t and others has driven so many i n pursuit of f u l l meanings to the Golden Bough and the Elizabethan drama that i t has become a kind of commonplace to suppose that we do not know what a poet means unless we have traced him i n h i s reading - a supposition redolent with i n t e n t i o n a l i m p l i c a t i o n s . 2 ^ Wimsatt would grant the e f f i c a c y of a l l u s i o n as long as i t i s "integrated" within the poem and so would be s a t i s f i e d , presumably, with Stevens' use of Artemis i n "The V i r g i n Carrying a Lantern." But Stevens i s frequently a l l u s i v e and his a l l u s i o n s are not always i d e n t i f i a b l e . In "The Novel," f o r example: How t r a n q u i l i t was at v i v i d e s t Varadero, While the water kept running through the mouth of the speaker, Saying: O l a l l a blanca en e l bianco, L o l - l o l l i n g the endlessness of poetry. (CP 4 5 7 - 5 8 ) O l a l l a i s the Spanish name for Saint E u l a l i a and the phrase means "white E u l a l i a i n the (masculine) white" but that fact i s not to be found i n most Spanish-English d i c t i o n a r i e s , nor i s i t Immediately illuminating once found. Varadero s t i l l remains an Erewhon for me. The whole poem i s a commentary on an a l l u s i o n and the source and circumstances of that a l l u s i o n remain unnoted i n c r i t i c i s m . To admit Stevens-* allusiveness i s not to say, however, that 30 the only recourse l e f t to the c r i t i c i s the search f o r i n f l u e n c e s and b i o g r a p h i c a l c r i t i c i s m . Stevens' a l l u s i o n s , l i k e a l l h i s other obscurations, have t h e i r purpose and j u s t i f i c a t i o n i n e s t a b l i s h i n g the mode of existence of " c e n t r a l poetry," and mere s c h o l a r s h i p w i l l not uncover that purpose, no matter how many sources i t f i n d s . The point i s that there i s a much more valuable way, a l b e i t a much longer one, to come to g r i p s w i t h poems l i k e "The V i r g i n C a r r y i n g a Lantern" than through t r a c i n g a l l u s i o n s . That way i s to study recurrent images i n the C o l l e c t e d Poems and what Stevens termed " v a r i a b l e symbol" i n reference to the statue i n "Owl's Clover" (OP 219). I t i s the conception of such a study that makes both the i m p o s i t i o n of l i m i t s on t h i s paper and the i n s i s t e n c e that c r i t i c s should approach Stevens' poems with a common set of p r i n c i p l e s necessary. As the p u b l i c a t i o n of Walsh's Concordance to the Poetry of Wallace S t e v e n s 2 2 i n d i c a t e s , any study of the i n t e r a c t i o n s be- tween poems that r e s u l t from r e c u r r e n t images would have to be of monumental proportions to be considered at a l l i n c l u s i v e . Nor w i l l any study of Stevens' " v a r i a b l e symbols" succeed which i s based upon the p e u r i l e attempt to s t i l l the vibrancy of t h e i r o s c i l l a - t i o n s i n order to equate them with a b s t r a c t terms l i k e imagination, r e a l i t y , or the i d e a l . The kind of harmony that Santayana t a l k e d about i s the k i n d that Stevens a c t u a l l y composed: The poet i s a r e b u i l d e r of the imagination, t o make a harmony i n t h a t . And he i s not a complete poet i f h i s whole imagination i s not attuned and h i s whole experience composed i n t o a s i n g l e symphony.23 The argument concerning the techniques of recurrent images and " v a r i a b l e symbol" i s pursued i n the second part of t h i s paper. The nub of t h a t argument i s , however, immediately r e l e v a n t . The 31 point i s that to explicate an i n d i v i d u a l poem of Stevens i t Is s u f f i c i e n t that the c r i t i c avoid the p i t f a l l s of preconception and trust Stevens' i n t e g r i t y i n using words, but to understand the t o t a l harmony of Stevens' poems i t i s necessary to experience the i n d i v i d u a l poem i n i t s r e l a t i o n to the whole of his Collected Poems. The intent i n t h i s paper i s to e s t a b l i s h that necessity by examining the theory and purport of "central poetry." Any short- comings i n such a project are. afforded t h e i r excuse by a parting reference to Teufelsdrockh's Editor: Be i t remembered, however, that such purport Is here not so much evolved, as detected to l i e ready for evolving. We are to guide our B r i t i s h Friends into the new Gold-country, and show them the mines; nowise to d i g - out and exhaust i t s wealth...Once there, l e t each dig f o r his own behoof, and enrich himself.24 32 PART I - Central Poetry: Morphology Is i t true that our a i r i s disturbed., as Mallarme said, by "the trembling of the v e i l of the temple," or "that our whole age i s seeking to bring forth a sacred book?" Some of us thought that book near towards the end of l a s t century, but the tide sank again. Yeats - The Trembling of the V e i l Among the anecdotes that have accumulated around Stevens there i s one. reported by C l a r d i which deserves r e p e t i t i o n , both for i t s p i t h and i t s pertinency to the subject of "central poetry": ...Stevens said, "The trouble with you, Frost, i s that you write on subjects." Frost r e p l i e d , "The trouble with you i s you write b r i c - a - b r a c " ! The anecdote i s undated, but what Stevens meant by "subjects" i s undoubtedly what he referred to (in a l e t t e r to William Carlos Williams written before 1920) as not having "a fixed point of view." 2 Williams' reaction was i n i t i a l l y as antagonistic as F r o s t ' s 3 * and as l a t e as 193? he published a charge that the trouble with Stevens i s that "he wants to think."^ But by 1951 there appears to be an a l t e r a t i o n i n Williams' a t t i t u d e . In his autobiography, he wrote that Wallace Stevens " . . . i s constantly i n my thoughts,"5 and i n 1 9 5 7 , he e n t i t l e d a review of Opus Posthumous "Poet of a Steadfast Pattern" and recognized therein the e f f i c a c y of a fixed point of view: As good a summary of Stevens' s i t u a t i o n facing the world i s contained - as might be expected i n a man at the same time so vocal and reticent as he was and prone to cover his own traces - i n the poem "Architecture," laying out when he was a young man a plan he was to follow during his entire l i f e . 6 It i s , on the face of i t , a mistake to maintain, as Lionel Abel does, that Stevens was "outside the l i t e r a r y controversies of h i s time." 7 A l l three poets, Williams, Frost, and Stevens - are contemporary and the basis of t h e i r arguments can be found i n 33 the pre-eminent esthetic problem of t h e i r time. Walter Buttel, i n his study of the origins of Stevens* "theme and s t y l e , " defines that problem (and quotes Williams i n doing so): Stevens wrote his undergraduate verse at a time (1898 - 1900) when . . . " i t was commonplace to say that a l l the poetry had been written and a l l the paintings painted." ...This commonplace does not seem to have taken into account Yeats' mastery of his early style or the poetry of Hardy or Housman, but perhaps t h e i r voices were obscured by such Decadents as Dowson, Symonds, and Wilde, whose celebration of art for art's sake - the ivory tower Tennyson had warned against i n "The Palace of A r t " seemed to mark the end of an era, even though they contributed to the poetry of the era to come when they did much to introduce French symbolism into English poetry. In America, the sweeping innovations of Whitman and the i n c i s i v e wit and suggestiveness of Emily Dickinson were l a r g e l y ignored. ...Poetry seemed less and less s i g n i f i c a n t i n a world of science, industrialism, and middle-class culture. The Decadent's response was to e s t a b l i s h a c u l t of Isolated beauty, while at the opposite extreme the r e a l i s t i c and n a t u r a l i s t i c novelists were making a determined e f f o r t to deal with the actual world, as sordid as i t might be.8 The problem was one of the nature and function of poetry, as i t always i s , and i t arose at t h i s time because of a very r e a l sense that poetry and l i f e had become bifurcated. On the one hand, the pure poets of the f i n de s l e c l e had pushed what seemed the l o g i c a l value of art - the esthetic value - to i t s utmost; and, on the other hand, there was d a i l y evidence that ' r e a l ' l i f e was based upon p r i n c i p l e s wholly foreign to those which created beauty. Faced with t h i s overwhelming p o l a r i t y between a dedication to beauty and a dedication to l i f e , i t must have seemed evident to the young poet of the period that he had to make a choice'. •Some poets, l i k e Paul Valery, chose to a f f i r m beauty, even i f i t meant a r e j e c t i o n of the 'mainstream* of l i f e : I l i v e d among young people for whom art and poetry were a kind of e s s e n t i a l nourishment impossible to forego, and indeed something more: a supernatural food. In 34 those days - some who are s t i l l l i v i n g w i l l remember - we had the urgent impression that a sort of c u l t or new kind of r e l i g i o n was about to be born, that would give shape to the quasi-mystical state of mind which reigned at that time and which was.inspired i n or communicated to us by our extremely intense awareness of the universal value of the emotions of Art. # , * * When one looks back to the youth of that epoch, to that time more charged with I n t e l l e c t than the present, and to the way i n which we faced l i f e and the knowledge of l i f e , one can see that a l l the conditions were present for some development or creation almost r e l i g i o u s i n character. Indeed, there reigned at that moment a kind of d i s i l l u s i o n with philosophic theories, a contempt for the promises of science, that had been very i l l i n t e r - preted by our predecessors and elders, the r e a l i s t and n a t u r a l i s t writers. The r e l i g i o u s had experienced the assault of p h i l o l o g i c a l and philosophical c r i t i c i s m . Metaphysics seemed to have been destroyed by Kant's a n a l y s i s . Before us was a white, blank page, and we could inscribe on i t only a single affirmation. This seemed to us indisputable, being founded neither on a t r a d i t i o n , which can always be contested, nor on a science, whose generalizations can always be c r i t i c i z e d , nor on texts, which can be interpreted at w i l l , nor on philosophical reasoning, which l i v e s only on hypothesis. Our certainty was i n our emotion and our f e e l i n g for beauty.9 Some of those who made Vale'ry's affirmation f e l l back i n despair - l i k e the Yeats of my epigraph - while others chose f e a l t y to ' r e a l 1 l i f e and sought to construct a poetry based upon the p r i n c i p l e s of that l i f e - upon psychology or communism or Americanism or Catholicism, or* i n short, upon the philosophies and s o c i a l sciences which gave that ' r e a l ' l i f e form. What Stevens' response to the problem x«fas, however, i s a question xtfiich has provoked, and s t i l l provokes c o n f l i c t i n g answers. Williams' view of Stevens' steadfast purpose, f o r example, implies^that Stevens' did make a response of a kind which denies Bradley's assertion that "...the subject of his poetry remains a sum of aspects rather than an apotheosis of one or two monolithic worlds..." 1 0 yet Bradley's attitude i s one which has long endured 35 among Stevens' c r i t i c s , as a comparison of Untermeyer*s early comment with Sypher's assessment of Stevens i n mid-career w i l l show: ItfStevens* poetryjhas much f o r the eye, something for the ear, but nothing f o r that central hunger which i s at the heart of a l l the senses.H Thus l i v i n g i n many sensuous worlds indicates a f a i l u r e i n imagination. The supreme f i c t i o n becomes f i c t i t i o u s indeed, a dizzy pluralism, a rage for order that cannot be spent....12 The recent tendency, noted by Brown and H a l l e r , for c r i t i c s to anchor t h e i r discussions with "the discovery, or rather the e x p l o i t a t i o n of themes other than the important one of imagination versus reality"13 i s an i n d i c a t i o n that Stevens' c r i t i c s , i n gen- e r a l , have found the question of Stevens' fixed point of view e i t h e r f u t i l e or Impossible to discuss. While these c r i t i c s have not reduced Stevens' poetry to mere decoration, as Untermeyer would, they have, indeed, committed i t to a "dizzy pluralism" by f i n d i n g i n his poems expressions of humanism, e x i s t e n t i a l i s m , essentialism, mysticism, realism, and i d e a l i s m l ^ - to name only a few of t h e i r discoveries. Such a c r i t i c a l reaction was probably inevitable i n view of the end r e s u l t of repetitious explorations of the 'important' theme "of the imagination versus r e a l i t y . " That r e s u l t was bore- dom - a boredom expressed by Anthony Hecht i n his complaint against "Stevens* esthetic doctrine, which i s so obsessively present on almost every page that the reader i s l i k e l y to f e e l badgered by the r e l e n t l e s s declaration of a single idea. "15 But the fact remains, nonetheless, that both the reaction and the approach which caused that reaction are f u t i l e and misdirected as approaches to Stevens. Both treat Stevens' poetry as though i t were prose 36 and both assume that Stevens' theory of poetry must stand and be counted on one side or the other of the philosophical s p l i t which I e a r l i e r characterized as the s p l i t between the euhemeristic and the hermetic. Williams was right i n a t t r i b u t i n g a "steadfast pattern" to the poems of Wallace Stevens, and i n the poem which he mentions as proof of h i s point there are indications of the nature of that pattern and of i t s value as a response to the dilemma of the times (I quote only Stanzas I and VI): What manner of building s h a l l we build? Let us design a chastel de chastete'. De pense'e ... Never cease to deploy the structure. Keep the laborers shouldering p l i n t h s . Pass the whole of l i f e earing the c l i n k of the Chisels of the stone-cutters cutting the stones. And, f i n a l l y , set guardians i n the grounds, Gray, gruesome grumblers. For no one proud, nor s t i f f , No solemn one, nor pale, No chafferer, may come To s u l l y the begonias, nor vex With holy or sublime ado The kremlin of kermess. ( OP 1 6 , 18 ) I have no intention of explicating "Architecture," beyond noting how apropos these two stanzas are to any discussion of the nature and mode of existence of Stevens' 'fixed point of view.' The a p p l i c a t i o n of the f i r s t stanza i s self-evident; Stevens never ceased "to deploy the structure," the interactions and variations that make his poetry a harmonious whole and which allowed John Wain to describe h i s l a t e r poetry, although somewhat paradoxically, as " a fragment broken o f f the monolith of his own d i a l e c t . " 1 6 The "guardians" of the s i x t h stanza are, of course, the deliberate obscurations discussed i n the introduction to t h i s paper and t h e i r 37 purpose i s , as I there suggested, twofold. They are to keep out the "chafferer" who would " s u l l y the begonias" and the "solemn one" who would "vex/With holy or sublime ado/The kremlin of kermess." It i s a shame to translate these characters into ab- stractions, but so seen, the chafferers are those euhemerists who would trample the poetry out of poetry with t h e i r stumblefoot c r i t i c i s m , and the solemn ones are those hermeticists who would "vex" poets and poetry readers by making the joy of t h e i r esthetic contemplation a matter of "holy or sublime ado" - of r e l i g i o u s proof. "The kremlin of kermess" means, l i t e r a l l y , the c i t a d e l of a c i t y of f e s t i v a l s which derive from feast days of saints: and a l l the suggestions contained i n that l i t e r a l meaning are relevant - the p o l i t i c a l idea of a place of refuge f o r the populace i n time of need and the r e l i g i o u s idea of human celebration of the s p i r i t - u a l . Translated, the "kremlin of kermess" i s "central poetry": i t i s that r e u n i f i c a t i o n of l i f e and beauty which was Stevens' response to the dilemma of h i s time. The 'theory' of "central poetry" i s somewhat c r y p t i c a l l y stated i n Stevens' essay "Effects of Analogy": The poet i s constantly concerned with two theories. One relates to the imagination as a power within him not so much to destroy r e a l i t y at w i l l , as to put i t to his own uses. He comes to f e e l that his imagination i s not wholly his own but that i t may be part of a much larger, much more potent imagination, which i t i s his a f f a i r to t r y to get at. For t h i s reason, he pushes on and l i v e s , or t r i e s to l i v e , as Paul Valery did, on the verge of consciousness. This often r e s u l t s i n poetry that i s marginal, subliminal. The same theory exists i n r e l a t i o n to prose, to painting and other a r t s . The second theory relates to the imagination as a power with- i n him to have such insights into r e a l i t y as w i l l make i t possible for him to be s u f f i c i e n t as a poet i n the very center of consciousness. This r e s u l t s , or should 38 r e s u l t , i n a central poetry. Dr. Whitehead concluded h i s Modes of Thought by saying: ...the purpose of philosophy i s to r a t i o n a l i z e mysticism....Philosophy i s akin to poetry, and both of them seek to express that ultimate good sense which we term c i v i l i z a t i o n . The proponents of the f i r s t theory believe that i t w i l l be a part of t h e i r achievement to have created the poetry of the future. It may be that the poetry of the future w i l l be to poetry of the present what poetry of the present i s to the b a l l a d . The proponents of the second theory believe that to create the poetry of the present i s an Incalculable d i f f i c u l t y , which r a r e l y i s achieved, f u l l y and robustly, by anyone. They think that there i s enough and more than enough to do with what faces us and concerns us d i r e c t l y and that i n poetry as an a r t , and, f o r that matter, i n any a r t , the central problem i s always the problem of r e a l i t y . The adherents of the imagination are mystics to begin with and pass from one mysticism to another. The adherents of the central are also mystics to begin with. But a l l t h e i r desire and a l l t h e i r ambition i s to press away from mysticism toward that ultimate good sense which we term c i v i l i z a t i o n . (NA 1 1 5 - 1 6 ) By i t s e l f , the statement i s a statement of difference; i t s context i s a discussion of "apposite" analogies and the concept of "central poetry" i s intended as an i l l u s t r a t i o n of "a d i s c i p l i n e of Tight- ness" (NA 115) with.respect to the creation of those analogies. That difference, however, opens up avenues of c r i t i c a l exploration which do lead to the full-blown theory upon which the difference, and Stevens' poems, depend. Before exploring those avenues, i t i s necessary to note that the difference between the two theories i s not as clearcut as i t might appear. An apparent contradiction i n Northrop Frye's explanation of the difference points up the need f o r cautious assessment. Frye's explanation begins reasonably enough: (the underlining i s mine): A t h i r d mode of mental a c t i v i t y , which i s poetic but not Stevens' kind of poetry, i s the attempt to suggest or evoke universals of mind or substance, to work at the threshold of consciousness and produce what Stevens c a l l s 39 "marginal" poetry and a s s o c i a t e s with V a l e r y . What- ever i t s merit such poetry f o r him i s i n c o n t r a s t w i t h " c e n t r a l " poetry based on the concrete and p a r t i c u l a r act of mental experience. Stevens speaks of the imagina- t i o n as moving from the h i e r a t i c to the c r e d i b l e , and marginal poetry ...seeks "a hierophant Omega" or u l t i - mate mystery. ...But f o r the imagination " R e a l i t y i s the beginning not the end," "The imperfect i s our paradise ," and the only order worth having i s the " v i o l e n t order" produced by the e x p l o s i o n of imaginative energy which i s a l s o a "great disorder."17 But, a paragraph l a t e r , he a l t e r s h i s terms and appears to q u a l i f y h i s o r i g i n a l assessment: However, the imagination does b r i n g something to r e a l i t y which i s not there i n the f i r s t p l a c e , hence the imagina- t i o n contains an element of the " u n r e a l " which the imag- i n a t i v e form i n c o r p o r a t e s . This u n r e a l i s connected w i t h the f a c t that conscious experience i s l i b e r a t e d experience. The u n r e a l . . . i s the sense of e x h i l a r a t i o n and splendour i n a r t , ..."the way of t h i n k i n g by which we p r o j e c t the idea of God i n t o the idea of man." ...Although a r t i s i n one sense an escape from r e a l i t y ( i . e . , i n the sense i n which i t i s an escape of r e a l i t y ) , and although a r t i s a heightening of consciousness, i t i s not enough f o r a r t simply to give one a v i s i o n of a b e t t e r world. A r t i s p r a c t i c a l , not s p e c u l a t i v e ; i m a g i n a t i v e , not f a n t a s t i c ; i t transforms experience, and does not merely i n t e r r u p t I t . The u n r e a l i n imaginative perception i s most simply described as the sense that i f something i s not there i t a t l e a s t ought to be there. But t h i s f e e l i n g i n a r t i s anything but w i s t f u l ; i t has created the tone of a l l the c i v i l i z a t i o n s of h i s t o r y . Thus the " c e n t r a l " poet, by working outwards from a beginning instead of onwards tox^ards an end, helps to achieve the only genuine k i n d of progress. As Stevens says i n a passage which e x p l a i n s the ambivalence of the term "mystic" i n h i s work: "The adherents of the c e n t r a l are a l s o mystics to begin w i t h . But a l l t h e i r d e s i r e and a l l t h e i r ambition i s to press away from mysticism toward that u l t i m a t e good sense which we term c i v i l i z a t i o n . " Such u l t i m a t e good sense depends on p r e s e r v i n g a balance between o b j e c t i v e r e a l i t y and the s u b j e c t i v e u n r e a l element i n the imagination!"^ The a l t e r a t i o n i n terms here i s from t h e o r e t i c d i f f e r e n c e to p r a c t i c a l d i f f e r e n c e , but that i s not the c o n t r a d i c t i o n - even though i t i s hard to see how an " u n r e a l " of which Prye approves, and which he describes by the l i n e "the way of t h i n k i n g by which 4.0 we project the idea of God into the idea of man," i s to avoid c l a s s i f i c a t i o n as "the attempt to suggest or evoke universals of mind or substance." The contradiction occurs when Prye attempts to explain the concepts of r e a l i t y and u n r e a l i t y . One has to compare Frye's statement that "Stevens speaks of the Imagination as moving from the h i e r a t i c to the credible, and marginal poetry seeks 'a hierophant Omega' or ultimate mystery" with h i s view of the imagination's a c t i v i t y i n the second c i t a t i o n . On the one hand, we have the Imagination moving from the unreal to the r e a l and on the*other the imagination bringing the unreal to the r e a l and judging the r e a l by standards of u n r e a l i t y . On the one hand there i s the Frye who says, "But f o r the imagination r e a l i t y i s the beginning not the end," and, on the other hand, there i s the Frye who says that f o r the imagination u n r e a l i t y i s the beginning (since standards of judgement must always precede the thing judged): and f i n a l l y , there i s the Frye who resolves the d i f f i - c u l t y by f a l l i n g back on the preservation of "a balance between objective r e a l i t y and the subjective unreal element i n the imagination." Although Frye i s right i n his d i s t i n c t i o n between p r a c t i c a l and speculative a r t , i t i s impossible to c r e d i t h i s discussion of the difference between marginal and.central poetry as the f i n a l word on the subject f o r two reasons. The primary reason i s that neither i n the poems nor the prose does Stevens say what Frye says he says. Stevens speaks of "a war between the mind/And sky, between thought and day and night." (OP 407) This i s , as I s h a l l show, a war between what Frye c a l l s 'the subjective unreal' and 'objective r e a l i t y ' ; such a war, for Stevens, was not a war of a t t r i t i o n . The difference between the marginal poet and the central poet i s that the marginal poet either wins his war, or r e j e c t s the necessity for f i g h t i n g , before he writes his poems. The central poet wins his war, or attempts to, i n h i s poems. One finds i n Stevens* prose and poetry, not a search for a balance, but a search for conquest. To prove that Stevens ignores Frye's concept of balance i n h i s prose i s the subject of a long argument, but i t i s possible to introduce that argument by examining the poems from which Frye extracted l i n e s to see i f t h e i r meaning, as l i n e s of poetry, cor- responds to his use of them. One of the l i n e s occurs i n "The Poems of Our Climate"; "The imperfect i s our paradise.8? (CP 194) Frye uses the l i n e to i l l u s t r a t e an opposition between 'Stevens' theory' of "violent order" and the marginal poet's concept of "order i n terms of f i n a l i t y , as something that keeps receding from experience u n t i l experience stops, when i t becomes the mirage of an 'after l i f e ' on which a l l hierophants whether poets or p r i e s t s depend."19 O'Connor supports Frye's reading of the l i n e , a l b e i t as the r e s u l t of a d i f f e r e n t approach, when he says "...the ideal of s i m p l i c i t y , of describing natural objects, however b e a u t i f u l l y done, i s not enough. There always remains 'the never resting [sic] mind.' The mind i t s e l f wants to create. It has i t s own c r i t e r i a . Among them, s u r p r i s i n g l y , i s i t s l i k i n g f o r the imperfect, for the 'flawed words, and stubborn sounds.'"20 J J o w O'Connor's approach refutes Frye's; i t i s a ' n a t u r a l i s t i c order' which i s found wanting i n the poem and not a hierophantic ones 4.2 Clear water i n a b r i l l i a n t bowl, Pink and white carnations. The l i g h t In the room more l i k e a snowy a i r , Reflecting snow. A newly f a l l e n snow At the end of winter when afternoons return. Pink and white carnations - one desires So much more than that. The day i t s e l f Is s i m p l i f i e d : a bowl of white, Cold, a cold porcelain, low and round, With nothing more than the carnations there. (CP 193) The narrator i s here self-consciously engaged i n an attempt to wring meaning out of painstaking description - to write a poem of the climate. This much i s evident from the syntax; but It should also be evident that the s i m p l i c i t y attained purports to be a r e a l and not an ideal s i m p l i c i t y . The color harmony (order) of the f i r s t f i v e l i n e s i s an order of something which is there. The restatement of that order i n the l a s t three l i n e s constitutes a resemblance - between pink and white carnations and the afternoon l i g h t on snow and between the bowl and the glaze of snow on the earth. Now, to Stevens, resemblance i s - ...one of the s i g n i f i c a n t components of the structure of r e a l i t y . It i s s i g n i f i c a n t because . . . I t binds together. It i s the base of appearance. In nature, however, the r e l a t i o n i s between two or more of the parts of r e a l i t y . In metaphor (and this word Is used as a symbol for the single aspect of poetry with which we are now concerned - that i s to say, the creation of resemblance by the imagination, even though metamorphosis might be a better word) - i n metaphor, the resemblance may be, f i r s t , between two or more parts of r e a l i t y ; second, between something r e a l and something Imagined or, what i s the same thing, between something imagined and something r e a l as, f o r example, between music and whatever may be evoked by i t ; and, t h i r d , between two imagined things as when we say that God i s good, since the statement i n - volves a resemblance between two concepts, a concept of God and a concept of goodness. (NA 72) Since the statement of resemblance i n the l a s t three l i n e s i s a metaphor (of the f i r s t kind), i t can be assessed by subjecting i t to the generalized rules governing the image which Stevens posits i n "Effects of Analogy": Every image i s the elaboration of a p a r t i c u l a r of the subject of the image. (NA 127) Every image i s a restatement of the subject of the image i n terms of an a t t i t u d e . (NA 128) Every image i s an intervention on the part of the image- maker. It [this generalization]refers to the sense of the world, as the second p r i n c i p l e did, and i t could be said to be a phase of the second p r i n c i p l e , i f i t did not r e f e r to s t y l e i n addition to the sense of the world. (NA 128) Applied to the resemblance i n "The Poems of Our Climate," these technical observations help to bring out the flaw therein. The resemblance f a i l s to s a t i s f y or incorporate the narrator's desire. It i s a created image and, as such, involves the attitude of the creator and his intervention. The trouble i s that the attitude and the intervention contradict each other. The nar- • rator's sense of the world springs from the presupposition that received r e a l i t y - h i s 'climate* - should be enough, and, In consequence, his s t y l e i s limited to the description of received resemblances - to the poems of h i s climate. In other words, his words attempt to disguise themselves as description - attempt to pass themselves off as a simple imitation of r e a l i t y . His sense of the world i s that i t i s r e a l and should be described, but his intervention i s i n words and words are always creation and not d e s c r i p t i o n . The point of a l l this i s that n a t u r a l i s t i c description not only d i s t o r t s the nature of words - i t also f a l s i f i e s r e a l i t y . "The day i t s e l f i s s i m p l i f i e d " because the day described i s an attitude only - a preconception about r e a l i t y . The point i s important because the poem i s about one's sense of words as well as one's sense of r e a l i t y and about the r e l a t i o n between those two senses. The result of the narrator's essay i s the conclusion that n U ij4 r e a l i t y i s not to be found by description: Say even that t h i s complete s i m p l i c i t y Stripped one of a l l one's torments, concealed The e v i l l y compounded, v i t a l I And made i t fresh i n a world of white, A world of clear water, b r i l l i a n t - e d g e d , S t i l l one would want more, one would need more, More than a world of white and snowy scents. I l l There would s t i l l remain the never-resting mind, So that one would want to escape, come back To what had been so long composed. The imperfect i s our paradise. Note that, i n t h i s bitterness, d e l i g h t , Since the imperfect i s so hot i n us, Lies i n flawed words and stubborn sounds. (CP 193-194) The trouble i s that the mind i s not herein r e j e c t i n g description because, as O'Connor suggests, " i t .wants to create" or because of " i t s l i k i n g for the imperfect." It rejects description because i t Is an exclusive rather than an inclusive creation. But there i s no sense of delight i n the second and t h i r d parts of the poem - no sense of actual release. The impossible ambiguities are pain- f u l to the narrator and must benumb the reader. What has happened i s that the " v i t a l I" has been "evilly-compounded", which means, presumably, that i t i s not capable of resting i n any simple r e a l i t y because i t s nature i s both of that r e a l i t y and of the force which creates that r e a l i t y . The rat that t r i e s to catch i t s own t a i l - the snake that swallows i t s e l f . Once the I becomes aware of i t s inevitable c r e a t i v i t y , i t r e a l i z e s that i t s creations imprison i t i n inadequate compounds. What the."never-resting mind" makes one "want to escape" i s the trap of i t s own f i c t i o n - a l i t y . Note that the intent of such an escape i s to "come back/ To what had been so long composed." What i t i s that has been composed defies explanation; s u f f i c e i t to note that composed i s not compounded, nor i s i t simple. Unlike compounds, compositions 4/5 do not destroy the i n d i v i d u a l c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s of the things which compose them. Unlike a simplex, a composition i s i n c l u s i v e , rather than exclusive. F i n a l l y , what has been composed appears not to have been composed by the narrator and, i n consequence, appears to be composed i n the sense of peacefulness as well. The movement of the poem, therefore, appears to be from an attempt to find r e a l i t y by dint of one's own creation to an attempt to escape the dilemma thereby fostered by finding a larger framework of com- p o s i t i o n ( i . e . by creating a Creator for the creator and the created). L o g i c a l l y , of course, t h i s framework involves the same v i c i o u s regress as the simplex, except for one saving grace. Such a creation allows the v i t a l I release from e v i l compoundings. Thus analysed, the poem supports Frye's marginal concept of order rather than his central one or, better, denies that there Is an opposition between the two orders so conceived. The f i n a l four l i n e s prove the point; the furious v a c i l l a t i o n s therein are ex- pressions of a "violent order", as Frye suggests, but they are also a confession that "order keeps receding from experience u n t i l experience stops." Words are not simple one-to-one correspond- ences of r e a l i t y ; they are "flawed" and "stubborn" - composed of creator and created, of r e a l and unreal. What i s important here i s that we who create the words are the imperfection that makes paradise possible - the b i t t e r who afford d e l i g h t . We are what makes possible the " f e a r f u l symmetry" of the absolute; the creator i n the created. The "violent order" of the central poet i s dynamic and i t s dynamism i s perhaps most c l e a r l y described i n terms of the t i t l e to t h i s paper - as o s c i l l a t i o n s between the i n d i v i d u a l and the absolute. 46 "The Poems of Our Climate" i s a f r i g h t f u l experience when read nakedly, and that i s p r e c i s e l y i t s point. To come to a sense of "what had been so long composed" as something necessary even though not comforting, as something more than a matter of concept even though not concretely embodied, i s to experience one aspect of the absolute. There are countless aspects. It i s appropriate, by way of aside, to note i n connection with "The Poems of Our Climate" another aspect brought out by Richard Watson i n h i s analysis of "Negation." Watson sees i n the "Creator" of the poem " a completely d i f f u s e concept"j21 In the terms of transcendentalism, this oversoul has a s p l i t personality, one part of which i s immanent or i n this world, and the other part of which i s trans- cendental or out of t h i s world. God Is t r y i n g to unify himself. ...Because there i s a continuous tendency towards unity, the physical d i a l e c t i c (as studied by science), the s o c i a l d i a l e c t i c of nations (as studied by Hegel and other p o l i t i c a l philosophers), and the i n - d i v i d u a l d i a l e c t i c (as studied by Freud and Jung) a l l present a gigantic attempt to return to the transcenden- t a l part of the oversoul. In "Negation" there i s , in f a c t , a parody of the i d e a l i s t i c transcendentalism of Whitman the poet and Hegel the philosopher. Hegel postulated an impersonal "oversoul" which was also the epitome of consciousness and s p i r i t u a l i t y . Stevens, as the t i t l e suggests, takes a negative view-point, and says that "The creator too i s b l i n d " and has to struggle as we do to achieve i n d i v i d - uation. . ...The t i t l e , "Negation," suggests more than Stevens* negative attitude towards idealism, however. There i s a paradox, of which Stevens was most l i k e l y aware, a paradox which Kenneth Burke c a l l s the "paradox of purity," or "paradox of the absolutes" We confront t h i s paradox when deriving the nature of the human person from God as "super-person." as "pure" or "absolute" person, since God as a super- person would be impersonal - and the impersonal would be synomymous with the negation of personality. There i s no denying that the paradox exists i n "Negation," just as i t exists i n "The Poems of Our Climate." A comparison of the two poems, however, does make i t possible to refute the i n - tentional misconception, widespread among Stevens' c r i t i c s , that 4? Stevens was a n t i - i d e a l i s t . To employ the transcendentalist paradox i n poetry i s not necessarily to either negate or parody I t . The way that paradox i s used i s , obviously, the important thing. In "The Poems of Our Climate," the paradox of the human s i t u a t i o n , of the process of human conception, i s the beginning and i t i s only the p o s s i b i l i t y of the transcendency i m p l i c i t i n that paradox that makes the human s i t u a t i o n bearable. In "Negation," the narrator begins e n t h u s i a s t i c a l l y by c a l l i n g atten- t i o n to the transcendental paradox, and he ends on a somewhat muted note by recognizing the human s i t u a t i o n : For t h i s , then, we endure b r i e f l i v e s , The evanescent symmetries From that meticulous potter's thumb. (CP 98) I hate to disagree with Watson on such s l i g h t evidence, but i t does seem that the element of parody he notes i s not sustained through the whole poem. One has only to contrast the f i n a l three l i n e s with the f i r s t seven: Hi! The creator too i s b l i n d , Struggling toward his harmonious whole, Rejecting intermediate parts, Horrors and f a l s i t i e s and wrongs; Incapable master of a l l force, Too vague i d e a l i s t , overwhelmed By an a f f l a t u s that p e r s i s t s . (CP 97-98) What i s being parodied i n this poem, i f anything, i s not any transcendental but a t o t a l l y immanent concept of Godhead. This, at l e a s t , i s the kind of concept the narrator announces so exuberantly i n the f i r s t l i n e . The syntax, however, suggests a movement from presto to andante. The verbal energy of the f i r s t ? i three l i n e s gives way to the more forced but less f o r c e f u l energy of the emotion behind the r i d i c u l e of l i n e s 4 to 7. The period at the end of l i n e 7 i s necessary only for reasons of rhetoric - the 4 8 orator's breath i s spent and the energy of exuberance gone. The f i n a l three l i n e s are t e r r i b l y slow (one almost feels that exact measurement of the difference between the f i r s t three l i n e s and the l a s t three might be possible); the parenthetical "then," and the a r t i c u l a t o r y q u a l i t i e s of the phrase "that meticulous potter's thumb" arrest the pace. The rhythmic changes serve to support a view that what happens i n t h i s poem i s that the narrator's sense of v i c t o r i o u s release which accompanies h i s newly-discovered view of the creator as t o t a l immanence i s negated when he r e a l i z e s the implications of his discovery. To reject the transcendental- i s t paradox i n favor of t o t a l immanence i s to f a i l to make l i f e meaningful i n human terms. A l l the narrator has a c t u a l l y ac- complished i s the substitution of an "evanescent" f o r an "absolute" symmetry. This poem i s i r o n i c , but the irony i s d i - rected toward the narrator primarily, and only secondarily to h i s view of the world. Frye's other reference to Stevens' poems, i n the passages e a r l i e r c i t e d , involves the same d i s t o r t i n g concept of the opposition between the ordering p r i n c i p l e s of central poets and of marginal poets. The poem involved i s "An Ordinary Evening i n New Haven" - s p e c i f i c a l l y section VI: Reality i s the beginning not the end, Naked Alpha, not the hierophant Omega, Of dense i n v e s t i t u r e , with luminous vassals. It i s the infant A standing on infant legs, Not twisted, stooping, polymathic Z, He that kneels always on the edge of space In the p a l l i d perceptions of i t s distances. Alpha fears men or else Omega's men Or else h i s prolongations of the human. These characters are around us i n the scene. 49 For one i t i s enough; for one i t i s not; For neither i s i t profound absentia. Since both a l i k e appoint themselves the choice Custodians of the glory of the scene, The immaculate interpreters of l i f e . But that's the difference: i n the end and the way To the end. Alpha continues to begin. Omega i s refreshed at every end. (CP 469) The " r e a l i t y " here, upon which Frye fondly bases his judgement, i s delusive; i t i s only one of the many r e a l i t i e s which coalesce i n the poem - a poem i n which the f i n a l conclusion 2 3 to the open- ing intention to add "A few words, an and yet, and yet, and yet -" to "The eye's p l a i n version" of r e a l i t y i s - It i s not i n the premise that r e a l i t y Is a s o l i d . It may be a shade that traverses A dust, a force that traverses a shade. (CP 498) One f i n d s , f o r example, i n section VII, the kind of r e a l i t y one thinks of when one talks of realism, a r e a l i t y f i l l e d "With l e s s e r things, with things exteriorized/Out of r i g i d r e a l i s t s . " (CP 470) This r e a l i t y i s meant as a contrast to the r e a l i t y of section VI. It i s true that the narrator of the poem expresses h i s f e a l t y to r e a l i t y , but he does not do so i n terms accordant with Fryers: We seek Nothing beyond r e a l i t y . Within i t , Everything, the s p i r i t ' s alchemicana Included, the s p i r i t that goes roundabout And through included, not merely the v i s i b l e , The s o l i d , but the movable, the moment, The coming on of feasts and the habits of saints, The pattern of the heavens and high, night a i r . (CP 47172) Faced with such passages, i t i s hard to see how anyone could emerge from a reading of "An Ordinary Evening ..." with an intact sense of the opposition between r e a l and unreal, or with a concept of poetry as the balancing of these forces. The d i s t i n c t i o n Stevens 50 makes between r e a l and unreal cuts across the oppositions of philosophers and t h e i r schools. To Stevens, what's r e a l i s l i f e , which can include p h i l o s o p h i c a l l y r e a l and unreal concepts; what's unreal i s anything which Isn't a l i v e . What's r e a l , i n other words i s poetry. Such statements are true, and serve to define the inadequacy of assessing Stevens' terms on purely philosophical grounds, but they are not the p o s i t i v e d e f i n i t i o n of "central poetry" I would l i k e them to be, because they merely substitute one set of un- defined terms for another. Nonetheless, a sense of the d i s t i n c t i o n i s available i n section X of "An Ordinary Evening...": It i s f a t a l i n the moon and empty there. But, here, a l l o n s . The enigmatical Beauty of each b e a u t i f u l enigma Becomes amassed i n a t o t a l double-thing. We do not know what Is r e a l and what i s not. We say of the moon, i t i s haunted by the man Of bronze whose mind was made up and who, there- fore, died. We are not men of bronze and we are not dead. His s p i r i t i s imprisoned i n constant change. But ours i s not imprisoned. It resides In a permanence composed of impermanence.... (CP 472) The contrast between t h i s section and section VI, i s the contrast between mode of existence and theory which I am about to discuss i n r e l a t i o n to Stevens' prose. But, f i r s t , i t should be noted that the theory of section VI i s not, as Frye suggests, a theory of balances, but a theory of "a t o t a l double-thing" which makes poetry possible. Alpha and Omega are not separate beings, despite t h e i r disparate appearances. Omega i s "polymathlc" because he i s many-knowing as p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n , and because, as alphabetic l e t t e r , he i s the sum of a l l l e t t e r s and Alpha's end. Alpha i s 51 "naked" (shades of Teufelsdrockh) and "fears men or else Omega's men/Or else h i s prolongations of the human" because he Is unper- celved r e a l i t y and men's conscious perceptions (which are usually conceptions) are the force which transforms him, changes him, ages him, into Omega. Whether one analyses Omega, or syntheslses Alpha, the difference i s only one of d i r e c t i o n ; as "Professor Eucaplyptus said, 'The search/For r e a l i t y i s as mo- mentous as/The search for God." (CP 481) The"total double thing" of Alpha and Omega i s the acnode which one encounters at either end of the central poet's philosophical o s c i l l a t i o n . The discussion of "The Poems of Our Climate" and "An Ordinary Evening..." was twofold i n intent - to give grounds for one of two objections to Frye's approach to the question of "central poetry" and to indicate the kind of argument about s l i g h t d i s t i n c t i o n s that Stevens' concept demands. The second objection to Frye's c r i t i c i s m i s an objection to phrasing; i t arises because of Frye's d e s c r i p t i o n of "the unreal In imaginative perception" as "the sense that i f something i s not there i t at least ought to be there." This brings into question the ' r e a l i t y ' of 'the supreme f i c t i o n s * which the central poet creates, and which Stevens defines i n "The Noble Rider and the Sound of Words": There i s , i n f a c t , a world of poetry indistinguishable from the world i n which we l i v e , or, I ought to say, no doubt, from the world i n which we s h a l l come to l i v e , since what makes the poet the potent figure that he i s , or was, or ought to be, i s that he creates the world to which we turn incessantly and without knowing i t and that he gives to l i f e the supreme f i c t i o n s without which we are unable to conceive of i t . (NA 31) The most d i f f i c u l t thing to avoid i n dealing with Stevens i s h i s constant insistence upon the truth of such supreme f i c t i o n s . His insistence i s of a kind which brings him within the sphere, 52 i r o n i c a l l y , of those believers i n poetic truth castigated by I.A. Richards: B r i e f l y , i f we can contrive to believe poetry, then the world seems, while we do so, to be transfigured. It used to be comparatively easy to do t h i s , and the habit has become well established. With the extension of science and the n e u t r a l i z a t i o n of nature i t has become d i f f i c u l t as well as dangerous. Yet i t i s s t i l l a l l u r - ing; i t has many analogies with drug-taking. ...Various subterfuges have been devised along the l i n e s of regard- ing Poetic Truth as f i g u r a t i v e , symbolic; or as more immediate, as a truth of i n t u i t i o n , not of reason; or as a higher form of the same truth as reason y i e l d s . Such attempts to use poetry as a denial or as a corrective of science are very common. One point can be made against them a l l ; they are never worked out i n d e t a i l . There i s no equivalent to M i l l ' s Logic expounding any such view. The language i n which they are framed Is usually a blend of obsolete psychology and emotive exclamations.24 The irony here i s that there are two sides to this question of b e l i e f . Both Richards i n his c r i t i c i s m and Stevens i n his theory make the contemporary s i t u a t i o n paramount; but Richards r e j e c t s the p o s s i b i l i t y of believing i n poetic truth as M a higher form of the same truth as reason y i e l d s " because he believes i n r e a l i t y . Stevens, on the other hand, rejects the r e a l i t y of the contemporary s i t u a t i o n as something to believe i n - he says "A possible poet must be a poet capable of r e s i s t i n g or evading the pressure of r e a l i t y . . . " (NA 27) - and this makes i t possible f o r him to believe i n poetic truth as "a higher form of the same truth as reason y i e l d s . " If one can accept the poem "As You Leave the Room" as autobiographical, one has ready-made proof of the point: That poem about the pineapple, the one About the mind as never s a t i s f i e d , The one about the credible hero, the one About summer, are not what skeletons think about. I wonder, have I l i v e d a skeleton's l i f e , 53 As a d i s b e l i e v e r i n r e a l i t y , A countryman of a l l the bones i n the world? Now, here, the snow I had forgotten becomes Part of a major r e a l i t y , part of An appreciation of a r e a l i t y And thus an elevation, as i f I l e f t With something I could touch, touch every way And yet nothing has been changed, except what i s Unreal, as i f nothing had been changed at a l l . (OP 1 1 7 ) 2 5 One can name the poems referred to - "Someone Puts a Pineapple Together," "The Well Dressed Man With a Beard," and so on - and one can also demonstrate the difference between the r e a l i t y which y i e l d s the truth i n which Richards believes and the "major r e a l i t y " i n which Stevens believed. One has only to propound, i n p o s i t i v e fashion, Stevens* prose statements. In the essays of both The Necessary Angel and Opus Posthumous, Stevens i s constantly concerned with four implications of the theory of "central poetry." The immediate implication of the metaphysical or epistemological stature of the theory - "the c e n t r a l problem i s always the problem of r e a l i t y " - i s the primary burden of "The Imagination as Value" and crops up i n almost a l l the essays, including (despite Stevens* statement "I am not competent to discuss r e a l i t y as a philosopher" (OP 217) ) "The I r r a t i o n a l Element In Poetry." As a consequence of the nature of the theory as philosophy there arises a second implication, and that i s that "central poetry" must conform to a c e r t a i n mode of existence; such a mode Of existence Involves questions of tech- nique as a minor implication. But the basic implication behind the vxhole theory i s that there can be a c e r t a i n kind of poet capable 54 of existing " i n the very center of consciousness;" the implications, therefore, resolve themselves into questions of the nature of the c e n t r a l poet, the grounds of his existence, and his mode of e x i s t - ence. Who i s the central poet? Stevens begins his description of "the figure of a youth as v i r i l e poet," i n h i s essay of that name, because there i s no d e f i n i t i o n of poetry (NA 43) and the best way to account for the fact of poetry i s by saying that " i t i s a process of the personality of the poet." This does not mean that poetry i s merely expressionism i n the sense of a manifestation of ego j A r i s t o t l e said: "The poet should say very l i t t l e i n propria persona." Without stopping to discuss what might be discussed for so long, note that the p r i n c i p l e so stated by A r i s t o t l e i s c i t e d i n r e l a t i o n to the point that poetry i s a process of the personality of the poet. This i s the element, the force, that keeps poetry a l i v i n g thing, the modernizing and ever-modern influence. The statement that the process does not involve the poet as subject, to the extent to which that i s true, pre- cludes d i r e c t egotism. On the other hand, without i n - d i r e c t egotism there can be no poetry. There can be no poetry without the personality of the poet and that, quite simply, i s why the d e f i n i t i o n of poetry has not been found and why, i n short, there i s none. (NA 45-56) The question of the central poet's i d e n t i t y i s thus an important one for Stevens, as i s indicated by the defence he provides for his discussion of a "possible poet" i n "The Noble Rider and the Sound of Words": . . . i f I had been less interested i n t r y i n g to give our possible poet an i d e n t i t y and less interested i n t r y i n g to appoint him to his p l a c e . . . i t might have been thought that I was r h e t o r i c a l , when I was speaking i n the simplest way about things of such importance that nothing i s more so. A poet's words are of things that do not exist without the words. (NA J2) What he means i n the f i n a l l i n e of the c i t a t i o n i s analogous to what he means by " i n d i r e c t egotism." 55 The mind of the poet describes i t s e l f as constantly i n his poems as the mind of the sculptor describes i t s e l f i n his forms. ...We are t a l k i n g about something a good deal more comprehensive than the temperament of the a r t i s t that i s usually spoken of. We are concerned with the whole personality and, i n e f f e c t , we are saying that the poet who writes the heroic poem that w i l l sat- i s f y a l l there i s of us and a l l of us i n time to come, w i l l accomplish i t by the power of h i s reason, the force of his imagination and, i n addition, the e f f o r t l e s s and Inescapable process of his own i n d i v i d u a l i t y . (NA 46) Now a l l t h i s i s r e l a t i v e l y simple and suggests that poems are a kind of record of the mind, a proof of the adage that a man i s known by what he does. But the edges of t h i s adage become a b i t misty when one notes that the r e l a t i o n between a poet and h i s poem i s a r e l a t i o n between two unknowns: The poet i s able to give i t [any p a r t i c u l a r experience]: the form of poetry because poetry i s the medium of hfs personal s e n s i b i l i t y . This i s not the same thing as saying that a poet writes poetry because he writes poetry, although i t sounds much l i k e i t . A poet writes poetry because he i s a poet; and he i s not a poet because he i s a poet but because of his personal s e n s i b i l i t y . What gives a man h i s personal s e n s i b i l i t y I don't know and i t does not matter because no one knows. (OP 217) Were i t not for the fact that what poetry is_ i s indefinable except i n terms of process of personality, there would be nothing contradictory about retaining the adage, even a f t e r t h i s laughable exercise i n the pedantic manner. Thus one could say that Stevens discovered that his s e n s i b i l i t y included the recognition that i c e - cream has a contradictory taste by expressing the contradiction i n terms i n "The Emperor of Ice-Cream." But Stevens' expression of the r e l a t i o n between poet and poetry thus f a r i s contradictory because the adage applicable i s that what a man does i s known by what he i s . Poets, says Stevens, "cannot ... be predetermined." (OP 218) But what a poet does can be. What poets do i s to transform things; 56 transformation i s the process of t h e i r personality: To describe i t by exaggerating i t , he shares the transformation, not to say apoetheosis, accomplished by the poem. It must be t h i s experience that makes him think of poetry as possibly a phase of metaphysics.... i f when we experience a sense of p u r i f i c a t i o n , we can think of the establishing of a s e l f , i t i s c e r t a i n that the experience of the poet i s of no less a degree than the experience of the mystic and we may be c e r t a i n that i n the case of poets, the peers of saints, those experiences are of no less a degree than the experiences of the saints themselves. It i s a question of the nature of the experience. It i s not a question of i d e n t i f y i n g or r e l a t i n g d i s s i m i l a r figures; that i s to say, i t Is not a question of making saints out of poets or poets out of saints. (NA 4 9 - 5 1 ) In a paper published i n 1 9 5 2 , S i s t e r Quinn pointed out the importance of transformation i n Stevens' poetry and the c r u c i a l problem i n h i s e s t h e t i c : Set against the imagination as shaping s p i r i t i s the desire of Stevens expressed with equal vividness, to face things as they are. Indeed, his devotion to things as they, are i s hard to reconcile with his wish to remold them to what they should be. It may be that these two contradictory views are merely another i n - stance of his Heraclitean opposites which fuse into a t h i r d and perfect singular - but on the other hand t h e i r incompatibility may constitute a c r u c i a l lack of c l a r i t y i n his aesthetic... Subtle as Stevens' proposit- ions are and admirable as i s the i n t r i c a c y with which he had devised them...there appear to be basic d i f f i c u l t i e s i n his p o s i t i o n , ifhich suggest that the center which he seeks i s s t i l l i n the future tense.2 6 Benamou has recently published a l e t t e r Stevens wrote to S i s t e r Quinn i n 19^9 which suggests that her statement of the problem has i t s authority: ...I do not want to turn to stone under your very eyes by saying "This i s the centre that I seek and t h i s aim." Your mind i s too much l i k e my own for i t to seem an evasion on my part to say merely that I do seek a centre and expect to go on seeking i t . I don't say that I s h a l l not f i n d i t as that I do not expect to f i n d i t . It i s the great necessity even without s p e c i f i c i d e n t i f - i c a t i o n . 2 7 The center i s that place wherein i s and should be are one - where 57 conception equals perception and the poet equals what he does. I t i s possible to understand the nisus a f t e r t h i s center by- disposing of two c r i t i c a l reactions to the question of the s t r i v - ing personality. The f i r s t of these reactions to transformation i s given voice by Ralph Nash; "...we have here a concept of poetry as an approach to the center of r e a l i t y , an ascent through i l l u s i o n past hordes of destructions, a r r i v i n g at l a s t at 'what we wanted fact to be.' This v a t i c concept necessitates a v a t i c f a i t h i n the figure of the poet. ...His godhead i s the nimbus of Imagination."28 Nash's view would be acceptable, were i t not that one of the 'hordes of i l l u s i o n s ' which Stevens' rejects i s p r e c i s e l y t h i s v a t i c concept of the imaginationj It i s important to believe that the v i s i b l e i s the equivalent of the i n v i s i b l e ; and once we believe i t , we have destroyed the Imagination; that i s to say, we have destroyed the f a l s e imagination, the f a l s e con- ception of the imagination as some incalculable vates within us, unhappy Rodomontade. (NA 60) Stevens* avoidance of the vatic concept i s the r e s u l t of his desire to a f f i r m the r e a l i t y of transformations i n poetry. The vatic poet, who owes his f e a l t y to his v i s i o n , i s imprisoned too often i n h i s prophecy. He i s committed to that which does not yet e x i s t ; he i s a marginal poet. Stevens i s always meticulous i n making the d i s t i n c t i o n between the marginal and the central poet; note, f o r example, that though he equates the experience of the poet with the experience of mystics and saints, he c a r e f u l l y disclaims any s i m i l a r i t y among the experiencers. The second view to be dismissed i s a natural c o r o l l o r y of the f i r s t . It i s a view expressed by Mary Colums It seems to us that what Wallace Stevens i s r e a l l y 58 concerned with i s the r e l a t i o n between one man's consciousness and the world, but a world i n which humanity and i t s problems, desires and affections have hardly any place. 2 9 S u p e r f i c i a l l y , of course, t h i s c r i t i c i s m springs from the same kind of euhemeristic concern described e a r l i e r , but that i s not i t s point. The fact that Stevens denied that the poet possessed s o c i a l r e s p o n s i b i l i t y (NA 27), which i n humanist terms means the r e s p o n s i b i l i t y of grappling with the immediate and s i g n i f i c a n t problems faced by s o c i a l man, must reduce h i s poems, i n the eyes of euhemerist c r i t i c s , to what Powys terms "bizarre ornamentation."30 The now famous a r t i c l e written by Stanley Burnshaw31 has received i t s reply i n "Owl's Clover" and such r e s t r i c t i v e views are no longer important except as matters of s o c i a l h i s t o r y . What i s important about Mary Colum< 's c r i t i c i s m i s that i t points out the r i s k run by any poet who rejects vatic authority and s t i l l wants to t a l k about r e a l i t i e s whose presence on the scene i s not im- mediately obvious!. The point about prophets i s that they don't have to depend upon r e a l i t y to do t h e i r bidding u n t i l a f t e r they are dead while central poets are committed to proving t h e i r v i s i o n - ary experiences right now. Her c r i t i c i s m , then, i s a c o r o l l a r y of Nash's because i t implies that unauthorized visions are sub- j e c t i v e i l l u s i o n s . The easiest way to escape the charge of s u b j e c t i v i t y , of course, i s not to have any visions and to experience no trans- formations. It has already been determined that such a course i s impossible f o r Stevens. "Central poetry" i s transformation and the sense of transformation i s intended to be public and not merely p r i v a t e . "The measure of the poet i s the measure of h i s sense of the world and of the extent to which i t involves the sense of other 59 people" (NA 123-24); He w i l l consider that although he himself witnessed, during the long period of h i s l i f e , a general t r a n s i - t i o n to r e a l i t y , his own measure as a poet, i n spite of a l l the passions of a l l the lovers of truth, i s the measure of his power to abstract himself, and to with- draw Tfith him into h i s abstraction the r e a l i t y on which the lovers of truth i n s i s t . He must be able to abstract himself and also to abstract r e a l i t y , which he does by placing i t i n h i s imagination. (NA 2 3 ) "Abstraction" i s one of the key terms i n Stevens' theory and one aspect of i t s meaning f o r him involves the adherence to contem- poraneous r e a l i t y . "It i s one of the p e c u l i a r i t i e s of the imag- i n a t i o n that i t i s always at the end of an era. What happens i s that i t i s always attaching i t s e l f to a new r e a l i t y , and adhering to i t . It i s not that there i s a new imagination but that there i s a new r e a l i t y . " (NA 2 2 ) What makes abstraction necessary i s that the adherence to r e a l i t y spawns pressures which must be r e s i s t e d or avoided: By the pressure of r e a l i t y , I mean the pressure of an external event or events on the consciousness to the exclusion of any power of contemplation. (NA 2 0 ) It i s precisely t h i s abstractive power, the power of contemplation that i s the poet's b i r t h r i g h t , or at least h i s karma; and i t s p r a c t i c a l r e s u l t i s poetry: The trouble i s that the greater the pressure of the contemporaneous, the greater the resistance. Resist- ance i s the opposite of escape. The poet who wishes to contemplate good i n the midst of confusion i s l i k e the mystic who wishes to contemplate God i n the midst of e v i l . There can be no thought of escape. Both the poet and the mystic may establish themselves on herrings and apples...The only possible resistance to the pres- sure of the contemporaneous i s a matter of herrings and apples, or, to be less d e f i n i t e , the contemporaneous i t s e l f . In poetry, to that extent, the subject i s not the contemporaneous, because that i s only the nominal subject, but the poetry of the contemporaneous. Resist- ance to the pressure of ominous and destructive c i r - cumstance consists of i t s conversion, so far as possible, into a d i f f e r e n t , an explicable, an amenable 6o circumstance. (OP 225) The poem "Mozart, 1 9 3 5 " provides a p r a c t i c a l example of the nature and purpose of the poet's abstract adherence to r e a l i t y . The key stanza i s the t h i r d : That l u c i d souvenir of the past, The divertimento; That a i r y dream of the future, The unclouded concerto... The snow i s f a l l i n g . Strike the piercing chord. (CP 132) The poem i s not, as Benamou suggests,3 2 a parody of romantic tenets. Frankenburg's comment i s closer to the t r u t h : By observing the present t r u l y and intensely enough, the poet may hope, symbolically, to resolve i t s con- f l i c t s . ...He i s not the p o l i t i c i a n s * c o l l e c t i v e "you," but the a r t i s t ' s singular "thou. ••33 But more than symbolic resolutions are at issue i n the poem, and the poet's i d e n t i t y i s not as simple as Frankenburg suggests. The poet i s an 'ephebe' under the i n s t r u c t i o n of a music master, who t e l l s him, i n e f f e c t , to become the voice of the mass: Be thou the voice," Not you. Be thou, be thou The voice of angry fear, The voice of t h i s besieging pain. Be thou that wintry sound As of a great wind howling, By which sorrow i s released, Dismissed, absolved In a starry placating. We may return to Mozart (CP 132) The images of winter and wind i n the poem reinforce the analogy implied i n the t i t l e . Mozart's society was occupied with the p a r t i t i o n of Poland; i n 1935» the same wrenching of s o c i a l order was evident, both i n the rebellious s t i r r i n g s of the depression and i n Germany's occupation of the Saar. In the midst of his 61 chaos, Mozart established the concerto, a t o t a l form completely opposite i n concept and significance to the decorative diver- timento, yet a form giving f u l l expression to the solo instruments. That the music master of the present should consider "The un- clouded concerto" an "airy dream of the future" i s a fact which indicates his concept of the function of "thou." The poet, as "thou," unclouds the concerto by, l i t e r a l l y , blowing away the clouds from which snow i s f a l l i n g and thereby absolving sorrow i n "a starry placating" - an unclouded concerto. To do so, he must practice "arpeggios" composed i n the present: Play the present, i t s hoo-hoo-hoo, Its shoo-shoo-shoo, i t s r i c - a - n i c , Its envious cachinnation. (CP 131) The point of the "arpeggios" i s that they manifest an order which i s capable of becoming a part of that t o t a l harmony which i s the concerto, though at the same time they r e f l e c t r e a l i t y , the sense of l i v i n g i n the world. The poet must discover the order of the present and harmonize i t with the order of the future - with t o t a l order. "...when we think of arpeggios, we think of opening wings...."(NA 80). Such an order cannot be purely h i s own; diver- tlmenti are no longer adequate, because the "greater the pressure of the contemporaneous,- the greater the resistance." The tone of the music master i n the poem i s a study of the way i t sounds to ' r e s i s t the pressure of r e a l i t y . • I f they throw stones upon the roof While you practice arpeggios, It i s because they carry down the s t a i r s A body i n rags. Be seated at the piano. (CP 131-32) The balance established here i s not dependent on a pose of complete 62 indifference to the world (the body's possible i d e n t i t y i s too ominously suggested for that). It i s a tone expressive of "...the r e l a t i o n between the v i v i d conception of great e v i l s , and that s e l f - a s s e r t i o n of the soul which gives the emotion of the sublime..." 3 4 what affords sublimity i n the context of the poem i s that i t may be possible "to return to Mozart." The difference between the poet and those who "throw stones on the roof" i s one of d i r e c t i o n . The poet partakes of the present fear, but he attempts to transcend i t s destructive force by making i t a part of the sublime. In the process, he himself i s transformed; he abstracts himself from the personal consequences of the present fear and contemplates i t from an absolute perspective - Mozart's t o t a l harmony. With the example of "Mozart, 1935" In mind, i t i s easy to see how abstraction, as a process, becomes a matter f o r philosophical proof. The t r a n s i t o r y nature of sublime states, even for those capable of experiencing them, was a l l too evident even before 1935- MacLeish's e a r l i e r poem, "Men of My Century Loved Mozart," stresses how ethereal the dream of the music master had become: Never did we hear Mozart but the mind, Fished from i t s feeding i n some weedy deep, And wound i n web that must more c l o s e l y bind The more i t altered from i t s e l f , would keep One moment i n that bond i t s perfect kind - Never, when we would question i t , but shone Through breaking cordage s i l v e r and the god was gone. 35 The questions - the pressures of contemporaneous r e a l i t y - are many and unless the central poet can o f f e r some answer, i t i s doubtful i f many who share the fears of the present w i l l rest s a t i s f i e d with q u i c k s i l v e r as t h e i r catholicon. The questions the narrator asks i n "The American Sublime" - Stevens' companion poem 63 to "Mozart, 1935" - are e s s e n t i a l : How does one stand To behold the sublime, To confront the mockers, The mickey mockers And plated pairs? What wine does one drink? What bread does one eat? (CP 130-31) The wine and bread are, of course, the body and blood - the common- place things which take on transcendent r e a l i t y and a s s i s t s p i r i t - u a l communion. (In t h i s context, one can speculatively explain "The mickey mockers/And plated p a i r s " i n terms of the I r i s h Americans whose act of communion i s somewhat f a l s i f i e d by a stomach f u l l of Saturday night's booze and i n terms of the opposition between man and god that becomes the permanent meaning of the r i t u a l instead of the o r i g i n a l intent of the r i t u a l as a breaking down of p a i r s ) . What has happened to the American sublime i s that an opposi- t i o n has been enforced between s p i r i t and substance, between the r e a l and the unreal: When General Jackson Posed for his statue He knew how one f e e l s . Shall a man go barefoot Blinking and blank? But hoxf does one f e e l ? One grows used to the weather, The landscape and that; And the sublime comes down To the s p i r i t i t s e l f , The s p i r i t and space, The empty s p i r i t In vacant space. (CP 130-31) General Jackson posed because he f e l t the need for some embodiment of his s p i r i t - of his sense of the sublime meaning of his l i f e . But that embodiment turned out to be the statue " . . . i n Lafayette 64 Square... of Andrew Jackson, r i d i n g a horse with one of the most b e a u t i f u l t a i l s i n the world" (NA 10), a statue of which Stevens saidj Treating this work as t y p i c a l , i t i s obvious that the American w i l l as a p r i n c i p l e of the mind's being i s e a s i l y s a t i s f i e d i n i t s e f f o r t s to r e a l i z e i t s e l f i n knowing i t s e l f . . . . A glance at i t shows i t to be unreal. The bearing of t h i s i s that there can be works, and t h i s includes poems, i n which neither the imagination nor r e a l i t y i s present. (NA 11) One of the pressures of present r e a l i t y i s the tendency to make the s p i r i t incredible and therby deny i t a home i n r e a l i t y . But the f u l l s p i r i t i s one f i l l e d with a sublime sense of a l i f e l i v e d i n r e a l i t y ; and the central poet i s one who must f i n d again i n t h i s l i f e the 'sanctions' of the s p i r i t and of i t s v i s i o n s . It should be obvious by now that the central poet i s not content with either the h i e r a t i c or the subjective. What he wants i s to make the h i e r a t i c credible . It i s not simply a matter, as Frye suggests when he says that "Stevens speaks of the imagination as moving from the h i e r a t i c to the credible,"36 G f giving up one thing i n favor of another. The f u l l c i t a t i o n of the passage to which Frye refers proves that: Summed up, our p o s i t i o n at the moment i s that the poet must get r i d of the h i e r a t i c i n everything that concerns him and must move constantly i n the d i r e c t i o n of the credible. He must create his unreal out of what i s r e a l . (NA 58) That this i s only a momentary p o s i t i o n , a sort of i n i t i a l stage of the " v i r i l e poet's" i n i t i a t i o n into the mysteries, i s evident from the progressive nature of his devotion to his muse. In t h i s i n i t i a l state, he feels no need of the trappings of metaphysics (NA 59) (the f i r s t underlining i s mine): What we have c a l l e d elevation and e l a t i o n on the part 65 of the poet, which he communicates to the reader, may- be not so much elevation as an incandescence of the i n t e l l i g e n c e and so more than ever a triumph over the i n c r e d i b l e . Here as part of the p u r i f i c a t i o n a l l of us undergo as we approach any central purity, and that we f e e l i n i t s presence, vre can say: No longer do I believe that there i s a mystic muse, s i s t e r of the Minotaur. This i s another of the monsters I had f o r nurse, whom I have wasted. I am myself a part of what i s r e a l , and i t i s my own speech and the strength of I t , t h i s only, that I hear or ever s h a l l . (NA 60) Why i t should be Ariadne who he rejects i s a matter for l a t e r conjecture. Note only that i n t h i s state of p u r i f i c a t i o n the poet has come to i d e n t i f y poetic truth with f a c t . "But i f poetic truth means fact and i f fact includes the whole of i t as i t i s betx^een the extreme poles of s e n s i b i l i t y , we are talking about a thing as extensible as i t i s ambiguous." (NA 60) This i d e n t i f i c a t i o n enables him to wash "the imagination clean" (NA 6 l ) . But he i s faced now with a decision - "At what l e v e l of the truth s h a l l he compose his poems?" (NA 6 l ) This question concerns the function of the poet today and tomorrow, but makes no pretence beyond. He i s able to read the i n s c r i p t i o n on the portal and he repeats: I am myself a part of what i s r e a l and i t i s my own speech and the strength of i t , t h i s only, that I hear or ever s h a l l . He says, so that we can a l l hear him: I am the truth, since I am part of what Is r e a l , but neither more nor less than those around me. And I am Imagination, i n a leaden time and i n a world that does not move for the weight of i t s own heaviness. Can there be the s l i g h t e s t doubt what the decision w i l l be? Can we suppose for a moment that he w i l l be content merely to copy Katahdin, when with his sense of the heaviness of the world, he feels his own power to l i f t , or help to l i f t , that heaviness away? (NA 6 2 - 6 3 ) This statement of dedication from the p u r i f i e d poet has much i n i t to make one think of the dominant images i n Stevens' poems. Katahdin, for example, i s the highest mountain i n Maine, and one finds i n "The Poem That Took the Place of a Mountain" (CP 512) 66 the accomplishment of the poet's purpose; just as one finds i n "Credences of Summer" his movement towards the f u l f i l l m e n t of that purpose: The rock cannot be broken. It i s the t r u t h . It r i s e s from land and sea and covers them. It i s a mountain half-way green and then, The other immeasurable h a l f , such rock As placid a i r becomes. (CP 375) In t h i s second, or purposeful stage, the poet discovers that - Poetry i s the imagination of l i f e . A poem i s a p a r t i c - ular of l i f e thought of for so long that one's thought has become an inseparable part of i t or a p a r t i c u l a r of l i f e so Intensely f e l t that the f e e l i n g has entered into i t . When, therefore, we say that the world i s a compact of r e a l things so l i k e the unreal things of the imagina- t i o n that they are indistinguishable from one another... we have a sense that we l i v e i n the center of a physical poetry, a geography that would be intolerable except for the non-geography that exists there.... (NA 6 5 - 6 6 ) It i s this discovery that makes the poet v i r i l e . ...for the poet, the imagination i s paramount, and i f he dwells apart i n his imagination, as the philosopher dwells i n h i s reason, and as the priest dwells i n h i s b e l i e f , the masculine nature that we propose for. one that must be the master of our l i v e s w i l l be l o s t . . . As we say these things, there begins to develop ... an i n - timation of what he i s thinking as he r e f l e c t s on the imagination of l i f e , determined to be i t s master and ours. He i s thinking of those facts of experience of which a l l of us have thought and which a l l of us have f e l t with such i n t e n s i t y , and he says: Inexplicable s i s t e r of the Minotaur, enigma and mask, although I am part of what i s r e a l , hear me and recognise me as part of the unreal. I am the truth but the truth of that imagination of l i f e i n which'with unfamiliar motion and manner you guide me i n those exchanges of speech i n which your words are mine, mine yours. (NA 6~6-67) What such an o s c i l l a t o r y movement on the part of the poet accomplishes, and how i t i s accomplished, are pertinent questions. E s s e n t i a l l y , of course, the poet has moved from a philosophical view of r e a l i t y to a 'poetic' one and i n the process has wit- nessed the reviviscence of his muse. The parts Stevens has muse 6 7 and poet play are an interesting i n d i c a t i o n of the transcendental nature of the resurrection. In the beginning of t h e i r person- i f i c a t i o n , the muse had been Ariadne only vaguely and the poet a brash sort of Aeneas just about to wander: In e f f e c t , what we are remembering i s the rather haggard background of the incredible, the imagination without i n t e l l i g e n c e , from which a younger figure i s emerging, stepping forward i n the company of a muse of i t s own, s t i l l half-beast and somehow more than human, a kind of s i s t e r of the Minotaur. This younger figure i s the i n t e l l i g e n c e that endures. It i s the imagination of the son s t i l l bearing the antique imagination of the father. It i s the c l e a r Intelligence of the young man s t i l l bearing the burden of the obscurities of the i n t e l l i g e n c e of the old. It i s the s p i r i t out of i t s own s e l f , not out of some surrounding myth, delineating with accurate speech the complications of which i t i s composed. For t h i s Aeneas, i t i s the past that i s Anchises. (NA 5 2 - 5 3 ) I f one accepts these personae as 'accurate delineations' of the nature of the central poet, one has a mixed semi-myth which, when unravelled, reveals what the poet's movement accomplishes. Anchises was blighted with paralysis because he boasted about h i s union with Venus, and Aeneas was forced to carry him on his shoulders when they f l e d from Troy. But Aeneas, warned by his father's fate, escapes the charms of Dido i n order to establish c i v i l i z a t i o n : ...when the earth i s v e i l e d i n shadow And the f i e r y stars are burning, I see my father, Anchises, or his ghost, and I am frightened; I am troubled for the wrong I do my son, Cheating him out of his kingdom i n the west, And lands that fate assigns him. 3 7 The mistake of the father was to place more importance i n the love of the goddess than i n his earthly task. But Aeneas, who takes up that task, i s to establish a c i v i l i z a t i o n more l i k e the C i t y of God than h i s t o r i c a l Rome - a home for the p u r i f i e d heroes - where the shades of Elysium become the sustaining s p i r i t s of l i f e : 68 the "image" of Anchises makes t h i s c l e a r when Aeneas v i s i t s the underworld: Anchises answers: - "These are s p i r i t s , ready- Once more for l i f e ; they drink of Lethe's water The soothing potion of forgetfulness. I have longed, for long, to show them to you, name them, Our children's children; I t a l y discovered, So much the greater happiness, my son." "But, 0 my father, i s i t thinkable That souls would leave t h i s blessedness, be w i l l i n g A second time to bear the sluggish body, Trade Paradise f o r earth? Alas, poor wretches, Why such a mad desire for l i g h t ? " Anchises Gives detailed answer: " F i r s t , my son, a s p i r i t Sustains a l l matter, heaven and earth and ocean, The moon, the stars; mind quickens mass, and moves i t . Hence comes the race of man, of beast, of winged Creatures of the a i r , of the strange shapes which ocean Bears down below h i s mottled marble surface. A l l these are blessed with the energy of heaven; The seed of l i f e i s a spark of f i r e . . . . 3 8 Thus f a r , the persona of Aeneas i s appropriate to the central poet whose main purpose i t was to reach "that ultimate good sense which we term c i v i l i z a t i o n . " (NA 116) The persona helps to define c i v i l i z a t i o n . But Ariadne i s another myth. It i s true that she appears as ob.jet d'arte i n the Apollonian temple b u i l t by Daedalus which i s the s t a r t i n g place of Aeneas' search for the portals to the underworld, but her presence i n Stevens* l i t t l e drama seems to be ascribable to his need for a transcendent analogy to Dido. Like Dido, Ariadne i s deserted by her betrothed hero (Theseus), and, l i k e Dido, she commits suicide (though by hanging rather than drowning). But unlike Dido, Ariadne ends up, by v i r t u e of the complications of myth, as fecund wife of the one god above a l l who offered man a divine g i f t to serve as substratum of his c i v i l i z a t i o n - Dionysus who gave man the vine. In the end, Ariadne dwells i n the temples b u i l t by a Theseus repentant while Dido i s doomed to walk the wasteland of the Stygian shore. 69 Though the analogy does have transcendent p o t e n t i a l and i s permissable (both Dido and Ariadne are versions of Astarte and thus of Graves' White Goddess), Stevens' treatment of Ariadne i s confusing. At the beginning of the poet's progress, she i s only vaguely the Ariadne of c l a s s i c a l myth. Rather than a princess whose p a t r i l i n e a l descent i s from Zeus (through Minos), Stevens has a figure " s t i l l half-beast and somehow more than human." She i s , i n other words, f u l l s i s t e r to the Minotaur. The only way to explain t h i s fact i s by speculating about the function of Stevens' images. The " v i r i l e " poet i s situated i n modern r e a l i t y and therefore must accept his muse as he finds her. The modern view of c l a s s i c a l myth i s one which tends to reduce mythical d i v i n i t y into b e s t i a l i t y . To say that the Greek gods were pan- t h e i s t i c i s to say that they were mere representations of, or superstitions about, natural forces - those "facts of experience" which are no longer an "enigma" and are explicable now i n terms of science. The poet must dispose of t h i s mutilated corpse, whose d i v i n i t y was denied and who therefore died, i n order to e f f e c t a reincarnation. The reincarnation i_s of d i v i n i t y , and i s made pos- s i b l e because the poet has probed the "facts of experience" and found i n t h e i r strange transformations an "enigma" s t i l l - a force at work which i s not to be explained except by recognition of the true nature of the masks of the absolute. Apropos to this view of what the central poet's i n i t i a t i o n accomplishes, i s the fact that there i s , i n the Louvre,3 9 a b e l l - shaped Ariadne d o l l whose function was the same as that of the o s c l l l a of I t a l y - to hang In a tree as a mask of God and speak the speech of the wind. In the poet's f i n a l awareness of her, 70 Ariadne i s just such a mask. She i s the poetry of the poem; her mask i s the poem fashioned by human hands and she "shares" the poet's words. The o s c i l l a t i o n s of the mask i t i s the poet's purpose to create catch the accordant descant of the ineffable - the o s c i l l a t i o n s of the absolute. What the poet accomplishes i n his o s c i l l a t i o n , then, i s the resurrection of the dead h i e r a t i c as the l i v i n g credible. How he accomplishes i t i s , however, a much knottier matter. But a clue may be provided by the invocatory "To the One of P i c t i v e Music." The poem i s not necessarily the utterance of Stevens' voice, nor i s "the one of f i c t i v e music" s o l e l y Ariadne, though she Is suggested pretty c l e a r l y i n her role as L i b e r i a - goddess of the vine and consort to Dionysus, whose chaplet, "made by Hephaestus of f i e r y gold and red Indian gems, set i n the shape of roses,"^0 i s the Corona Borealisj 0 bough and bush and scented vine, i n whom We give ourselves our l i k e s t issuance. On your pale head wear A band entwining, set with f a t a l stones. (CP 88) But there i s a p a r a l l e l between the ' v i r i l e ' poet's r e l a t i o n to h i s muse and that between the narrator of the poem and the composite figure who i s "the one of f i c t i v e music." Benamou sees i n t h i s poem the ironic treatment of "Romantic intoning,"^1 and McPadden a statement of "Flaccid romanticism."42 Both views, though opposed, are f a r from the truth. McFadden's comment i s one of those easy rejections c r i t i c s too often make en passant and can be i t s e l f subjected to the same treatment. But Benamou's interpretation contains, at l e a s t , the sense that there i s some kind of opposition i n the poem; according to i t , 71 the e u l o g i s t i c description of l i n e s 2 to 6 are to be taken as examples of romantic hyperbole and l i n e 9 as an i r o n i c d e f l a t i o n : S i s t e r and mother and diviner love, And of the sisterhood of the l i v i n g dead Most near, most c l e a r , and of the clearest bloom, And of the fragrant mothers the most dear And queen, and of d i v i n e r love -the day And flame and summer and sweet f i r e , no thread Of cloudy s i l v e r sprinkles i n your gown Its venom of renown, and on your head No crown i s simpler than the simple h a i r . (CP 87) Benamou doesn't r e f e r to the rest of the poem; presumably he would make of the next three stanzas a continuation of the de- f l a t i o n . But i f his view of l i n e 9 i s correct, why should the second stanza end with reference to "laborious weaving" and why should the narrator ask that the figure wear "A band entwining, set with f a t a l stones"? No, the opposition i s not between the wrong romantic and the r i g h t r e a l i s t i c , but between the muse too humanized and the muse transcendent. In e f f e c t , the poem is a poet's plea f o r the boon of imagination which only the transcendent muse of the fourth stanza can give: Unreal, give back to us what once you gave: The imagination that we spurned and crave. (CP 88) Note that t h i s plea i s f o r a second giving of the g i f t : "the one of f i c t i v e music" had given men imagination, they had spurned i t , and they now crave i t again. The nature of t h i s spurning i s c l e a r l y defined i n the second and t h i r d stanzas: Now, of the music summoned by the b i r t h That separates us from the wind and sea, Yet leaves us i n them, u n t i l earth becomes, By being so much of the things we are, Gross e f f i g y and simulacrum, none Gives motion to perfection more serene Than yours, out of our imperfections wrought, Most rare, or ever of more kindred a i r In the laborious weaving that you wear. 72 For so retentive of themselves are men That music i s intensest which proclaims The near, the c l e a r , and vaunts the clearest bloom, And of a l l v i g i l s musing the obscure, That apprehends the most itfhich sees and names, As i n your name, an image that i s sure, Among the arrant spices of the sun, 0 bough and bush and scented vine, i n whom We give ourselves our l i k e s t issuance. (CP 87-88) The grievous error men have committed i s primarily that they have invested t h e i r imagination i n fixed concepts of r e a l i t y , i n "The near, the c l e a r , " i n extensions of themselves. Like the woman who spends a l l her time buttering a lingam, men have mistaken the object of t h e i r desire; they have substituted t h e i r names f o r the known, t h e i r images for the i n e f f a b l e , t h e i r masks f o r the masks of the absolute. It i s the old problem of the creator and the created once again, here seen i n terms of the poet's creations of a creator. . His i n i t i a l images of "the one of f i c t i v e music," including l i n e 9 , are, l i k e the "Gross e f f i g y and simula- crum" of an earth too amenable to the manipulation of human pur- pose, traps to catch the imagination i n concrete bodies. They are expressive of the poet's insistence that she i s related to him i n human fashion. Despite the grand language, the whole e f f o r t of the poet i s bent on getting r i d of the "thread/Of cloudy s i l v e r " with "Its venom of renown" and substituting the humanized figure whose r e l a t i o n to the poet i s made conclusive by "the simple h a i r " with which he adorns her. Benamou i s quite r i g h t about the intoning, but l i n e 9 Is the culmination, not the r e j e c t i o n , of that intoning. The a l l u s i o n i n the "thread/Of s i l v e r " i s to the c o n s t e l l a - t i o n Serpens - a c o n s t e l l a t i o n which seems to play an important part i n the as yet unmapped star chart of Stevens. Here the 73 a l l u s i o n i s to the fact that Serpens Capua (the head of the serpent) appears to crawl towards Corona Borealis; "whence the out wishing to over-emphasize the matter, the r e l a t i o n of the serpent to the crown i s a variable one. The s t e l l a r drama begins :('for observers i n Canada and the northern h a l f of the U.S) with the very f a i n t appearance of Corona Borealis on the northeastern h o r i z o n . ^ Next, Serpens Capua (the head of the serpent) makes i t s appearance and appears to be pursuing the Crown across the sky. Also i n evidence i s the c o n s t e l l a t i o n Hercules - the figure kneeling upside down and appearing to reach out i n a kind of extreme nisus to grasp Serpens Capua. The significance of Hercules becomes c l e a r when Ophiuchus makes his appearance: There i s c e r t a i n l y a significance i n the l o c a t i o n of t h i s figure Hercules of a giant trampling on a serpent [not Serpens but Draco] , for he i s placed head to head with the giant Ophiuchus, who i s represented as hold- ing a writhing serpent i n his grasp. Hercules has been thought to represent the f i r s t Adam, beguiled by the serpent, and condemned to a l i f e of t o i l , while Ophiuchus i s supposed to be the second Adam, triumphant The point about Ophiuchus, who i s seen to grasp Serpens firmly when Serpens Capua i s closest to the Corona Borealis and then to p u l l the serpent slowly back from the crown, i s that he i s also Aesculapius "with whose worship serpents were always assoc- i a t e d , as symbols of prudence, wisdom, renovation, and the power of discovering herbs..... he became so s k i l l e d i n practice that i t i s said he even restored the dead to l i f e . " ^ 6 The function of t h i s a l l u s i o n i n "To the One of F i c t i v e Music" i s to provide an analogy with the double view of the poet and his muse. The analogy i s complicated by a concurrent analogy with the Serpent i s often said to be .'licking the Crown . ' " ^ 3 Now, with- 74 earth i n i t s seasonal changes, but the main l i n e s are c l e a r . The poet, l i k e Hercules, attempts to grasp the serpent because he fears the "venom of renown" and i t s threat to his humanized muse. "Renown" means, l i t e r a l l y , 'to name again, or often' and thus to 'make famous.' But the muse of the fourth stanza i s asked to assume her old attributes again: ...whence springs The difference that heavenly p i t y brings. -For t h i s musician, i n your g i r d l e fixed Bear other perfumes. (CP 88) In other words, the serpent's "venom of renown," when transformed by Ophiuchus, becomes i t s own antidote. The poet reduces his muse from the outworn ethereal to the physical only to discover of a l l music "none/Gives motion to perfection more serene/...out of our imperfections wrought" than the music of his muse once again becom- ing ethereal (note the contrast between "simple h a i r " and " l a b o r i - ous weaving"). What makes such a progression inevitable i s that i n reducing h i s muse, the poet has i d e n t i f i e d her with earth or an aspect of i t (Ariadne as the "scented vine") and with the passage of the season such i d e n t i f i c a t i o n s become less and less adequate. The death of every image constitutes an embryonic stage i n the r e b i r t h of the muse as mystery. In the months of f r u i t i o n , man rests content with his perception that the beauty of the bloom i s a property of the physical flower (and indeed i t i s ) . But with the decay of the flower, the achieved recognition of the b e a u t i f u l remains and men r e a l i z e that beauty i s something else besides the merely physical. On the l e v e l of the analogy, the poet's images are never f u l l y adequate to the muse u n t i l they are such that they combine both the ethereal and the earthly - a feat of which no single physical image, nor single idea-as-name, 75 i s capable. This i s a fact which has important consequences i n regard to the technique of the central poet; i t necessitates h i s endless o s c i l l a t i o n s from the physical to the ethereal - h i s var- i a b l e symbols and recurrent image's. "To the One of F i c t i v e Music" i s an incredibly concentrated poem and i t s complications are the kind constantly encountered i n Stevens' poems. They arise because to imagine an opposition i n a " t o t a l double-thing" i s d i f f i c u l t . I have, f o r example, posited an analogy between the ethereal movement of the constel- l a t i o n s and the physical t r a n s i t i o n of the season as the basis of the poet's o s c i l l a t i o n . While the analogy does operate i n the poem, the opposition i t indicates i s not as simple as i t seems when expressed as an opposition between the ethereal and the physical. The f i r s t appearance of the c o n s t e l l a t i o n business i s used negatively; i t stands f o r the idea-as-name which i s out- moded and dead - empty of f e e l i n g . The poet supplants this idea- as-name with the physical image, nameless and known only by the poet's e x p e r i e n t i a l sense of i t . But, i n the t h i r d stanza, image and idea-as-name are seen as the same; the "arrant spices of the sun" i s wonderfully appropriate to both stars and blooms. It i s t h i s subtle c o r r e l a t i o n of the two terms of the opposition that releases the muse of the f i n a l stanza from the images that sur- round her. She i s , i n e f f e c t , no longer chained to that which describes her; she i s beyond the words. It i s t h i s curious but nonetheless c a r e f u l l y planned release which affords the reader h i s sense of the vibrant l i f e of the muse as "Unreal." In other words, the poem works and creates, because of i t s concentrations, poetry. 76 My use of the poem, however, was aimed only at demonstrating how the "central poet" makes the ineffable c r e d i b l e . This poem i s , perhaps no more of an i l l u s t r a t i o n than (for example) "Fabliau of F l o r i d a , " but i t does have the v i r t u e of applying p a r t i c u l a r l y to the o s c i l l a t i n g movement of "the central poet". For those who f i n d the poem, or the interpretation of i t , too complicated to be i l l u s t r a t i v e , the poem "Last Looks at the L i l a c s " (CP 4 8 ) w i l l c l a r i f y at least the l a t t e r , or transcendent, h a l f of the poet's f u l l o s c i l l a t i o n . In "Last Looks at the L i l a c s " the basic analogy i s between the l i l a c and i t s personifications or transformations. The iden- t i t y of " c a l i p e r " i s not too d i f f i c u l t : Riddel says "the figure of 'caliper'...symbolizes the extreme consequences of the r a t i o n - a l mind which anatomizes nature at the expense of beauty. » 4 7 Precisely; " c a l i p e r " i s the baser h a l f of man, whose measure of the r e a l i s the measure of the earth upon which he stands. His companion, however, is an ambiguous figure, a phantasia of f a i n t - l y f e l t forms. As woman, she i s a p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n of the flowers, and, i n the extension of the f i n a l stanza, of the " l o s t " Pleiad i n the c o n s t e l l a t i o n Pleiades. Stevens probably i d e n t i f i e s the " l o s t " Pleiad as Merope, because he writes of her marriage as "the marriage/Of f l e s h and a i r " (CP 8 3 ) ; i t i s p r e c i s e l y t h i s marriage which forms the central opposition i n the poem. The c a l i p e r ' s analogies are d e f i n i t i o n s , i d e n t i f i c a t i o n s , attempts to reduce the ineffable with the framework of a presupposed r e a l i t y : . . . t h i s bloom i s the bloom of soap And t h i s fragrance the fragrance of vegetal (CP 4 8 ) Like the unaware poet of "To the One of F i c t i v e Music," but to a f a r greater degree, he wants his images r e a l . The narrator of 77 "Last Looks..." i s the aware poet chastising the unaware; his analogies emcompass the i s and is-not of both bloom and fragrance. He grants the c a l i p e r ' s sense of the flowers by making his per- s o n i f i c a t i o n ambivalent. "She" i s the c a l i p e r ' s companion, which means she exists within his frame of reference as his sense of the r e a l flowers. But she i s also the i n e f f a b l e ; unlike the " c a l i p e r " she i s not h a l f - l i f e . As flower and p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n of flower she w i l l end up as "trash" - the flowers w i l l w i l t and die and be used i n the production of soap. The flower, as a subject for p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n w i l l then be as intangible as a i r - "her nakedness i s near." Like Merope, the "she" w i l l become i n v i s i b l e because companion of a mortal (the flowers and t h e i r p r a c t i c a l uses) and reside i n the sky with her s i s t e r s unseen. But her i n v i s i b i l i t y , i n the context of the poem, i s a consummation with the sun. The time i s Important here; i t i s the month of May, the blossomal on the revolutionary calendar, and the month i n which, according to Seyffert, the morning r i s i n g of the Pleiades s i g n i - f i e s the approach of harvest: Her body quivering i n the F l o r e a l Toward the cool night and i t s fantastic star, Prime paramour and belted paragon, Well-booted, rugged, arrogantly male, Patron and imager of the gold Don John, Who w i l l embrace her before summer comes. (CP 84) The star i s Betelgeuse, which belongs to the c o n s t e l l a t i o n Orion, and which heralds i t s c o n s t e l l a t i o n s ' r i s e . At the end of May, Orion r i s e s i n the early morning; i t , , i n turn, heralds the r i s i n g of the sun and has been i d e n t i f i e d with i t i n myth. "The Eygptians represented i t as Horus, the young or r i s i n g sun... Now, Orion i s "Prime paramour" i n the sense that he i s f i r s t 78 lover of Merope, or at least would-be-lover (he pursued she and her s i s t e r s f o r f i v e years while on earth and s t i l l pursues the Pleiades toward the morning as c o n s t e l l a t i o n ) . He i s "belted paragon" because he affords the sun a non-constrictive image, through t h e i r association, that makes the marriage possible. Thus he i s "Patron and imager of the gold Don John" - patron because he drives Merope towards the sun. Note how s w i f t l y and cleanly t h i s "divine ingenue" f l i t s from inadequate Image to inadequate image u n t i l she attains her consummation with the completely released sun. It i s t h i s "double-thing" e x i s t i n g i n perfect freedom which i s exemplified by what I e a r l i e r c a l l e d existent images in r e l a t i o n to "the bright obvious" of "Man Carrying Thing." The muse of the fourth stanza of "To the One of F i c t i v e Music" and the "she" and sun of "Last Looks..." are also existent images - they accompany the words which surround them f r e e l y because their.existence i s not contained or defined f u l l y by them. One has intimations here of the reason behind Stevens' r e f u s a l to define metaphor as a state- ment of i d e n t i t y - a fact Frye, for one, finds confusing . 4 9 The "central poet's" o s c i l l a t i o n s are made possible by "the strange unlike, whence springs/The difference that heavenly p i t y brings." (CP 88) They do not destroy images and ideas-as-names; they cause vibrations within them and v i b r a t i o n i s l i f e . This i s the point of "Adult Epigram" - Stevens' pedagogical t i d b i t , offered, presumably, to his i n i t i a t e d students: The romance of p r e c i s i o n is not the e l i s i o n Of the t i r e d romance of imprecision. It i s the ever-never-changing same, An appearance of Again, the diva-dame. (CP 353) What's precise about the "romance of p r e c i s i o n " i s i t s recognition 79 of the imprecision of.the images of "the t i r e d romance." It does not e l i d e that imprecision; i t uses i t as the source of i t s power. By so doing, i t causes to appear once again the same goddess or leading singer whose r e a l i t y was cause f o r a l l the images i n the f i r s t place but who had been entombed by the pretensions to p r e c i s i o n of imprecision. The technique of the existent image .does not always reveal i t s e l f i n the single poem, but t h i s i s only because the o s c i l - l a t i o n s of the "central poet" are not so confined. The deadening d i v i s i o n s of the human understanding are so pervasive as to demand from the poet, i n his resistance of the pressure of r e a l i t y , far more rigorous endeavors than the mere resurrection of his muse or the accurate delineation of the experience of l i l a c s i n May. These are parts of the "non-geography" i n which the f u l l y con- scious man e x i s t s , but unlike the haphazard and bloody choas of man's p o l i t i c a l ' r e a l i t y ' t h i s non-geography constitutes a har- monious whole. The task of the "central poet" i s to make the whole appear whose r e a l i t y i s affirmed by every minor part. Such, at l e a s t , i s the promise of many of Stevens' poems - among them "The Woman i n Sunshine": It i s only that t h i s warmth and movement are l i k e The warmth and movement of a woman. It i s not that there i s any image i n the a i r Nor the beginning nor end of a form: It i s empty. But a woman i n threadless gold Burns us with brushings of her dress And a dissociated abundance of being, More d e f i n i t e for what she i s - Because she i s disembodied, Bearing the odors of the summer f i e l d s , Confessing the t a c i t u r n and yet i n d i f f e r e n t , 80 I n v i s i b l y c l e a r , the only love. (CP 4̂ 5) There i s a strangely autobiographical element i n t h i s poem and i n many of Stevens' l a t e r poems. It i s as though the poet and his reader had agreed that the accomplishments which required so much concentration i n the early poems had become so much a matter of mutual acceptance that the continued extensions of that kind of experience could nox̂ be shared e a s i l y , g r a c e f u l l y , without e f f o r t and almost without the necessity of words. The poet speaks and presto! one exists i n the f e l t freedom of the sun and prepares to meditate the problem of "the only love." A l l t h i s may not be v a l i d as c r i t i c i s m , but i t ' s true, and i t ' s what makes Stevens' the poet he i s . If there i s a 'change' i n Stevens' l a t e r poems, i t i s not a change i n his conception of his function or h i s sense of the world as Riddel suggests: Necessity informs the apocalyptic tone of the late poetry to suggest that the r e a l problems of Stevens' f i n a l years were to e f f e c t some kind of compromise between the unremitting naturalism, and i n one sense, atheism, of his early poetry and the s p i r i t u a l tones of his l a t e . The d i s t i n c t i o n is not altogether correct. From the very beginning, he linked .poetry with the forms of d i v i n a t i o n , though he knew as well as Wordsworth that the poet was a man speaking to,men, and charged only with human truths. I f there i s a change, i t i s a change induced by Stevens' sense that "the only love" was " t a c i t u r n and yet i n d i f f e r e n t " ; each time the minors of the harmony had been more e a s i l y mastered, but s t i l l the major music, of which the minors are but phases, had not come. This x\ras, perhaps, i n e v i t a b l e , because Stevens' music was Godbole's: It was a r e l i g i o u s song. I placed myself i n the p o s i t i o n of a milkmaiden. I say to Shri Krishna, 'Come! come to me only.! The god refuses to come. I grow humble and say: 'Do not come to me only. Multiply your- s e l f into, a hundred Krishnas, and l e t one go to each of 81 my hundred companions, but one, 0 Lord of the Universe, come to me.' He refuses to come. ... "But He comes i n some other song, I hope?" said Mrs. Moore gently. "Oh, no, he refuses to come," repeated Godbole, perhaps not understanding her question. "I say to Him, Come, come, come, come, come, come. He neglects to come."51 But i t cannot be considered a f a i l u r e on the part of the "central poet" that the complete harmony remains beyond the edges of h i s poems. It i s the woman h e r s e l f , i n "The Woman i n Sunshine", who by the freedom of her being r e f l e c t s not only the r e a l i t y of the experience i n which she hovers but also the r e a l i t y of that which she loves and which i s beyond a l l experience. An e s s e n t i a l knowledge i n any genuine understanding of Stevens must be that existent images are not ends i n themselves. They are facets of the absolute, true symbols, c r y s t a l perspectives through which i t i s possible to glimpse the f i r e at the heart of the gem. Surfaces, they r e f l e c t the l i g h t of the images which surround them and min- gle with i t a suggestion of the radiance of the "That" of which they are composed. Such description may sound too euphuistic, but i t i s a fact that Stevens had t h i s kind of double r e l a t i o n i n mind, i n his prose and his poetry. Evidence of i t appears i n such poems, for example, as "An Ordinary Evening i n New Haven": The w i l l of necessity, the w i l l of w i l l s - Romanza out of the black shepherd's i s l e , Like the constant sound of the water of the sea In the hearing of the shepherd and his black forms Out of the i s l e , but not of any i s l e . Close to the senses there l i e s another i s l e And there the senses give and nothing take, The opposite of Cythere, an i s o l a t i o n At the centre, the object of the w i l l , t h i s place, The things around - the alternate romanza 82 Out of the surfaces, the windows, the walls, The bricks grown b r i t t l e i n time's poverty, The c l e a r . A c e l e s t i a l mode i s paramount, I f only i n the branches sweeping i n the rains The two romanzas, the distant and the near, Are a single voice i n the boo-ha of the wind. (CP 4 8 0 - 8 1 ) There i s a strong suggestion of a l l u s i o n i n the s p e l l i n g of Cythere x w i l l be c i t e d by the a b b r e v i a t i o n NA followed by the page number. 3 . S.T. C o l e r i d g e , Biographia L i t e r a r i a , ed. J . Shawcross, London, 1 9 5 8 , ( 1 9 0 ? ) , I , p. 4 . Bowyer was Coleridge's Head Master. 4 . See C o l e r i d g e , B i o g r a p h i a , I , p. 202 f o r a d e f i n i t i o n of terms. 5 . W i l l i a m Rose Ben6t, , Saturday Review of L i t e r a t u r e , XV, Jan. 16 1 9 3 7 , p. 18. 6 . Frank Kermode, Wallace Stevens, London and Edinburgh, i 9 6 0 , PP. 3 8 - 3 9 . 7 . Christmas Humphreys, Buddhism, London, 1 9 5 2 , pp. 1 3 5 - 3 6 . 8 . Winters, p. 6 . 9 . W i l l i a m Van O'Connor, The Shaping S p i r i t : A Study of Wallace Stevens, Chicago, 1 9 5 0 , pp. 1 2 9 - 3 0 . 1 0 . W i l l i a m York T i n d a l l , Wallace Stevens, Minneapolis, 1 9 6 1 , p. 1 7 . 1 1 . Thomas Vance, "Wallace Stevens and T.S. E l i o t , " Dartmouth College L i b r a r y B u l l e t i n , December 1 9 6 1 , pp. 3 7 - 3 8 . 1 2 . John Holmes, "Five American Poets," V i r g i n i a Quarterly Review, X I I , A p r i l 1 9 3 6 , p. 2 9 4 . 1 3 . Winters, p. 6 . 14. Paul V a l e r y , The A r t of Poetry, t r a n s . Denise F o l l i o t , New York, 1 9 6 l , p. 8 5 . 1 5 . Richard Watson, Between the " I " and the " I t " i n Wallace Stevens' "Harmonium", (unpublished), U.B.C., 1 9 5 8 , p.32 1 6 . W i l l i a m York T i n d a l l , p. 18. 173 1 7 . Richard Watson, p. 1. 18. Frank Doggett, "Wallace Stevens and the World We Know," E n g l i s h J o u r n a l , X L V I I I , 1 9 5 9 , p. 3 6 8 . 1 9 . See Lewis Richard F a r n e l l , The C u l t s of the Greek S t a t e s , Oxford, 1 8 9 6 , I I , pp. 4 2 5 - 4 4 9 but e s p e c i a l l y p. 4 3 6 . 2 0 . Howard Baker, "Wallace Stevens and Other Poets," The Achievement of Wallace Stevens, eds. Ashley Brown and Robert S. H a l l e r , P h i l a d e l p h i a , 1 9 6 2 , p. 82 2 1 . W.K. Wimsatt, J r . , The Verbal Icon, New York, 1 9 5 4 , p. 14. 2 2 . Thomas F. Walsh, Concordance to the Poetry of Wallace Stevens, Pennsylvania, ±963. 2 3 . George Santayana, I n t e r p r e t a t i o n s of Poetry and R e l i g i o n , New York, 1 9 5 7 , p. 2 8 7 . 24. Thomas C a r l y l e , Sartor Resartus, London and Glasgow, C o l l i n s ' C l e a r Type Press, no date, pp. 184-85 PART I 1 . John C i a r d i , "Wallace Stevens' "Absolute Music", -Nation, CLXXIX, Oct. 16 1 9 5 4 , p. 346. 2 . W i l l i a m C a r l o s W i l l i a m s , Kora i n H e l l , Boston, 1 9 2 0 , p. 1 7 . 3 . I b i d . , p. 1 6 . 4 . W i l l i a m C a r l o s W i l l i a m s , , New Republic, X C I I I , Nov. 17 1 9 3 7 , P. 5 0 . 5 . W i l l i a m Carlos W i l l i a m s , The Autobiography of W i l l i a m C a r l o s W i l l i a m s , New York, 1 9 5 1 , P« x i i . 6 . W i l l i a m Carlos W i l l i a m s , "Poet of a Steadfast P a t t e r n , " NYTBR, Aug. 18 1 9 5 7 , P. 6 . 7 . L i o n e l A b e l , "In the Sacred Park," P a r t i s a n Review, XXV, 1 9 5 8 , p. 8 8 . 8 . Robert B u t t e l l , "Wallace Stevens at Harvard: Some Origins of His Theme and S t y l e , " ELH, 2 9 : 1 , March 1 9 6 2, pp. 9 0 - 9 1 . 9 . Paul V a l e r y , pp. 2 1 9 - 2 2 0 . 1 0 . Ardyth Bradley, "Wallace Stevens' Decorations," TCL, 7 : 3 , Oct. 1 9 6 1 , p. 114. 1 1 . Louis Untermeyer, "Five American Poets," Yale Review, XIV, Oct. 1 9 2 4 , p. 1 6 0 . 174 12. Wylie Sypher, "Connoisseur In Chaos: Wallace Stevens," Partisan Review, XIII, 1 9 4 6 , p. 94 13. Ashley Brown and Robert S. H a l l e r , "Introduction," The, Achievement of Wallace Stevens, p. 16. 14.. See respectively, Roy Harvey Pearce, "Stevens Posthumous," International L i t e r a r y Annual, I I , (London 1959)» p. 69 - James Baird, "Transvaluation i n the Poetics of Wallace Stevens, Studies i n Honour of John C. Hodges and Alwln Thaler (Tennessee Studies i n L i t e r a t u r e , Special Number), Knoxville, 1 9 6 1 , 166-61? George McFadden, "Poet, Nature and Society i n Wallace Stevens," MLQ, XXIII, Sept. 1962, p. 269 - Joseph N. Riddel, "Wallace Stevens' "Notes Toxiard a Supreme F i c t i o n " , " Wisconsin Studies i n Contemporary Literature, I I , i i , p. 24 - Steve Feldman, "Reality and the Imagination: The Poetic of Wallace Stevens' "The Necessary Angel",", University of Kansas City Review, XXI, 1 9 5 4 , p. 43 - and Emilie Buchwald, "Wallace Stevens: The Delicatest Eye of the Mind," American Quarterly, XIV, Summer 1 9 6 2 , p. 1 9 2 . 15. Anthony Hecht, "Poets and Peasants," Hudson Review, X, Winter 1957-58, p. 6 0 7 . 16. As quoted by Frank Kermode i n Wallace Stevens, p. 18 17. Northrop Frye, "The R e a l i s t i c Oriole: A Study of Wallace Stevens," Wallace Stevens: A C o l l e c t i o n of C r i t i c a l Essays, ed. Marie Borrdff,Englewood C l i f f s , 1 9 6 3 , p. I 6 3 . 18. Ibid., p. 164 19. Ibid., p. I63. 2 0 . William Van O'Connor, p. 1 2 0 . 2 1 . Richard Watson, p. 53• 2 2 • Ibid., pp. 51-52» 23. See Joseph N. Riddel, "Wallace Stevens' " V i s i b i l i t y of Thought"," PMLA, LXXVII, Number 4 , Part I, Sept. 1962, p. 493 f o r a description of the changes i n the ordering of the section and t h e i r s i g n i f i c a n c e . 24. I.A. Richards, "Poetry and B e l i e f s , " Critiques and Essays i n C r i t i c i s m , 1920 - 1 9 4 8 , New York, 1 9 4 9 , p. 331. 25. See OP x y i for Morse's account of the genealogy of the poem 26. S i s t e r M. Bernetta Quinn, "Metamorphosis i n Wallace Stevens Wallace Stevens: A C o l l e c t i o n of C r i t i c a l Essays, p. 68. 27. As quoted by Michel Benamou, "Wallace Stevens and the Symbolist Imagination," ELH, 31*1, March 1 9 6 4 , p. 60. 1 7 5 28. Ralph Nash, "Wallace Stevens and the Point of Change," P e r s p e c t i v e , V I I , Autumn 1 9 5 4 , p. 1 2 1 . 2 9 . Mary Colum, , NYTBR, Nov. 2 9 1 9 4 2 , p. 1 2 . 3 0 . Llewelyn Powys, "The T h i r t e e n t h Way," The Achievement of Wallace Stevens, p. 3 1 » 3 1 . Stanley Burnshaw,- "Turmoil i n the Middle Ground," New Masses, Oct. 1 9 3 5 » PP« 41 - 4 3 . Mr. Burnshaw's l a t e r e x p l a n a t i o n of h i s p o s i t i o n i n "Wallace Stevens and the Statue," Sewanee Review, LXIX, pp. 3 5 5 - 6 6 , i s a moving account, t o be valued i f not f o r i t s e x p l i c a t i o n of Stevens, at l e a s t f o r the ex- p l a n a t i o n i t a f f o r d s of the e a r l i e r Burnshaw. 3 2 . Michel Benamou, "Jules Laforgue and Wallace Stevens," Romanic Review, L, 1 9 5 9 , P. 1 1 5 « 3 3 « Lloyd Frankenburg, "Wallace Stevens," Plea.sure Dome, Cambridge (Mass.),'1 9 4 9 , p. 2 2 0 . 3 4 . George Santayana, The Sense of Beauty? Being an Outline of A e s t h e t i c Theory, New York, 1 9 5 5 , p. 2 3 9 . 3 5 . A r c h i b l a d MacLeish, C o l l e c t e d Poems? 1 9 1 7 - 1 9 5 2 , Boston, 1 9 5 2 , p. 82. 3 6 . Northrop Frye, "The R e a l i s t i c O r i o l e . . . " , p. 1 6 3 . 3 7 . V i r g i l , The Aeneid, t r a n s . Rolfe Humphries, New York, 1 9 5 1 , (Bk. I V ) , p. 9 9 . 3 8 . V i r g i l , (Bk. V I ) , pp. 1 6 8 - 6 9 39. Robert Graves, The Greek Myths, B a l t i m o r e , 1 9 5 5 , I , P. 3 4 7 . 40. I b i d . , I , p. 340. 41. Michel Benamou, "Jules Laforgue and Wallace Stevens," p. 114. 4 2 . George McFadden, "Probings f o r an I n t e g r a t i o n ; Color Symbolism i n Wallace Stevens," MP, L V I I I : 3 , Feb. 1 9 6 1 , p. 1 9 0 . 4 3 . W i l l i a m T y l e r O l c o t t , Star Lore of A l l Ages, New York and London, 1 9 3 1 > P. 2 6 9 . 4 4 . For v i s u a l demonstration see the s t a r charts i n Barton and Barton, A Guide to the C o n s t e l l a t i o n s f o r the Months March to October, New York, 1 9 2 8 . 4 5 . O l c o t t , p. 2 1 6 . 46. I b i d . , pp. 2 6 8 - 6 9 . 176 47. Joseph N. R i d d e l , The Never-Ending M e d i t a t i o n ; A Study of Myth, Metaphor, and the Poetry of Order i n the Works of Wallace Stevens, U n i v e r s i t y of Wisconsin, I 9 6 0 , p. 1 7 7 ' 48. Rev. Charles Whyte, The C o n s t e l l a t i o n s and Their H i s t o r y , London, 1928, p. 2 5 8 . 49. Northrop Frye, "The R e a l i s t i c O r i o l e , " pp. 1 6 9 - 7 0 . 5 0 . Joseph N. R i d d e l , "Stevens' " V i s i b i l i t y of Thought"," p. 497. 5 1 . E..M. F o r s t e r , Passage to I n d i a , London, i 9 6 0 , p. 84 5 2 . Ananda K. Coomaraswamy, The Dance of Shiva, New York, 1 9 5 7 , P. 43. 5 3 . Ananda K. Coomaraswamy, C h r i s t i a n and O r i e n t a l Philosophy of A r t , New York, 1 9 5 6 , p. 5 2 . 54. I b i d . , pp. 52-53. 55. Joseph N. R i d d e l , "Stevens' " V i s i b i l i t y of Thought."," p. 484. 5 6 . Seng Ts'an, "On B e l i e v i n g i n Mind," Buddhist S c r i p t u r e s , t r a n s . Edward Conze, Harmondsworth, 1 9 5 9 , Pp. 171-73• 57. C. Roland Wagner, "A C e n t r a l Poetry," Wallace Stevens: A C o l l e c t i o n of C r i t i c a l Essays, Englewood C l i f f s , 1 9 6 3 , p. 73 i n p a r t i c u l a r . 58. J.A. Stewart, The Myths of P l a t o , New York, 1 9 0 5 , p. 7 2 . 5 9 . I b i d . , p. 35- 6 0 . I b i d . , pp. 40-41. 6 1 . George Santayana, Scepticism and Animal F a i t h : I n t r o d u c t i o n t o a System of Philosophy, U.S.A., 1 9 5 5 , P« 1 0 7 i n p a r t i c u l a r . 6 2 . Lloyd Frankenburg, Pleasure Dome, p. 1 9 9 . 6 3 . W i l l i a m York T i n d a l l , Wallace Stevens, p. 1 7 . 64. Ramon G u t h r i e , "Stevens' "Lions i n Sweden"," E x p l , XX, Dec.6l, Item 3 2 . 6 5 . Robert Pack, Wallace Stevens: An Approach to h i s Poetry and Thought, New Brunswick (N.J.)., 1 9 5 8 , pp. 1 0 5 - 0 7 . ' 66. S.T. C o l e r i d g e , Biographia L i t e r a r i a , I I , p. 208. 6 7 . I b i d . , I , p. 2 0 2 . 68. See Shawcross' "Introduction,'-' Biographia L i t e r a r i a , I , l x v i i - l x v i i l . 17? 6 9 . George Santayana., Scepticism and Animal Faith, p. 3 0 0 . 7 0 . Immanuel Kant, The Philosophy of Kant, ed. Carl J . F r i e d r l c h , New York, 1 9 4 9 , pp. 105-06. 7 1 . Ibid., p. 1 0 9 . 7 2 . Ibid., p. 108. 7 3 . Ernst Cassirer, The Philosophy of Symbolic Forms, trans. Ralph Mahheim, New Haven, 1955, Vol. I ("Language"), p. 1 0 5 . 7 4 . Ibid.. p. 1 0 5 . 7 5 . Ibid., pp. 108-114. 7 6 . Northrop Frye, "The R e a l i s t i c Oriole," p. 1 7 5 . 7 7 . Northrop Frye, Anatomy of C r i t i c i s m ; Four Essays, Princeton, 1 9 5 7 , P. 119. 7 8 . Paul V a l e r y , p. 1 9 2 . 79* Lloyd Frankenburg, Pleasure Dome, p. 2 6 2 . PART II 1 . Joseph N. Riddel, "The Never-Ending Meditation...," p. 9 6 . 2 . Hi Simons, "Wallace Stevens and Mallarme," MP, XLIII, 1946, p. 244. 3 . Morton Dauwen Zabel, "Wallace Stevens and the Image of Man," Wallace Stevens; A C o l l e c t i o n of C r i t i c a l Essays, pp. 152-53* 4 . Ibid., p. 1 5 3 . 5« William Van O'Connor quotes an amusing poem by Amy Lowell on t h i s subject i n The Shaping S p i r i t , pp. 9- 1 0 . 6 . Joseph N. Riddel, "The Never-Ending Meditation...," p. 5 1 . 7. Ibid., p. 140. 8 . .Frank Kermode, Wallace Stevens, p. 2 5 . 9. Stephane Mallarme, Mallarme; Selected Prose Poems, Essays & Letters, trans. Bradford Cook, Baltimore, 1 9 5 6 , p. 15* 1 0 . Steve Feldman, "Reality and the Imagination," p. 4 3 . 1 1 . William York T i n d a l l , Wallace Stevens, pp. 1 7 - 1 8 . 1 2 . Mildred E. Hartsock, "Image and Idea i n the Poetry of Stevens," TCL, V i l l i , A p r i l 1 9 6 l , pp. 10-14. 178 1 3 . , James B a i r d , "Transvaluation i n the P o e t i c s of Wallace Stevens," p. 1 6 6 . 14. Op. c l t . . p. 1 2 . 15.. W i l l i a m Van O'Connor, The Shaping S p i r i t , p. 3 1 . 1 6 . Robert Pack, "Wallace Stevens: An Approach to His Thought," p. 14. 1 7 . James B a i r d , "Transvaluation i n the P o e t i c s of Wallace . Stevens," pp. 1 7 1 - 7 2 . 18. Harold Watts, "Wallace Stevens and the Rock of Summer," Kenyon Review, XIV, 195.2, pp. 122-40. 1 9 . , Stephane Mallarme, Mallarme: Selected Prose, p. 2 1 . 2 0 . Frank Doggett, "Wallace Stevens' Later Poetry,." ELH, XXV, June 1 9 5 8 , p.. 1 5 3 . 2 1 . 3.T. C o l e r i d g e , The Table Talk and Omniana, ed. T. Ashe, London, 1 8 8 4 , p. 64n. 2 2 . " S.T. C o l e r i d g e , The C o l l e c t e d L e t t e r s of Samuel Taylor C o l e r i d g e , ed. E a r l L e s l i e Griggs, Oxford, 1 9 5 9 , V o l . IV, p. 1 0 3 3 - 2 3 . Michel Benamou, "Wallace Stevens and the Symbolist Imagination," p. 4 5 . 2 4 . I b i d . , p.. 5 2 . 2 5 . J . H i l l i s M i l l e r , "Wallace Stevens' Poetry of Being," ELH, 3 1 : 1 , March 1 9 6 4 , p. 9 3 - 26. I b i d . , p. 94. 2?.. I b i d . , pp. 9 8 , 1 0 0 . 28. C. Roland Wagner, "The Idea of Nothingness i n Wallace Stevens," Accent, X I I , Spring 1 9 5 2 , p. 1 1 1 . 2 9 . I b i d . , p. 1 1 2 . 30.. Michel Benamou, "Wallace Stevens and the Symbolist Imagination," p. 5 3 • 3 1 . E m i l i e Buchwald, "Wallace Stevens: The D e l i c a t e s t Eye of the Mind," p. 1 8 6 . 3 2 . For an example, see S i s t e r Quinn's "Metamorphosis i n Wallace Stevens," p. 6 5 . 33«, Roy Harvey Pearce, "Stevens Posthumous," p. 8 9 . 179 3 4 . Roy Harvey Pearce, "Stevens Posthumous," p. 8 9 . 3 5 . Michel Benamou, "Wallace Stevens and the Symbolist Imagination," p. 6 0 . 3 6 . Robert Pack, Wallace Stevens; An Approach..., p. 17^. 3 7 . S i s t e r M. Bernetta Quinn, "Metamorphosis i n Wallace Stevens," p. 5 8 . 3 8 . I b i d . , p. 6 3 . 3 9 . A l b e r t Camus, The' Rebel; An Essay on Man i n R e v o l t , t r a n s . Anthony Bower, New York, 1 9 6 2 , p. 269." 40. Michel Benamou, "Wallace Stevens and the Symbolist Imagination," p. 6 l . 41. I b i d ; 1 , :p;. , 6 0 . 42. Jean-Paul' S a r t r e , The Transcendence of the Ego; An E x i s t e n t i a l i s t Theory of Consciousness, t r a n s . F o r r e s t Williams and Robert K i r k p a t r i c k , New York, 1 9 5 7 , p.100 4 3 . S.T. C o l e r i d g e , Biographia L i t e r a r i a , I , p. 1 8 4 . 4 4 . James Joyce, P o r t r a i t of the A r t i s t as a Young Man, Harmondsworth, i 9 6 0 , pp. 214- 1 5 . 4 5 . See James Balrd's "Transvaluation i n the P o e t i c s of Wallace Stevens.." This i s probably a v e r s i o n of the paper Pearce a l l u d e s t'o. 46. I b i d . , p. 4 0 5 . 4 7 . I b i d . , p. 4 0 8 . 48. Michel Benamou, "Wallace Stevens and the Symbolist Imagination," p. 5 2 . 49. J.A. Stewart, The Myths of P l a t o , London, 1 9 0 5 , pp. 3 5 0 - 3 8 1 . 5 0 . I b i d . , p. 3 7 9 . 5 1 . See p a r t i c u l a r l y Merle E. Brown, "Concordia Discors i n the Poetry of Wallace Stevens," AL, 3 ^ ; 2 , May 1962, pp. 246- 2 6 9 . 5 2 . Michel Benamou, "Wallace Stevens and the Symbolist Imagination," pp. 5 2 - 5 3• The l e t t e r quoted i s addressed t o Henry Church. 53.' C o l e r i d g e , Biographia . L i t e r a r i a , I I , p. 5 8 . 5 4 . Bernard Heringman, "The Poetry of Synthesis," P e r s p e c t i v e , VI 1 , Autumn 195^, p. 1 6 ? . 180 55• Michel Benamou, "Wallace Stevens: Some R e l a t i o n s Between Poetry and P a i n t i n g , " Comparative L i t e r a t u r e , X I , 1959» p. 5 2 . 5 6 . Donald Davie, "The Auroras of Autumn," P e r s p e c t i v e , V I I , autumn 1 9 5 4 , p. 1 6 7 . 5 7 . Joseph N. R i d d e l , "Stevens' " V i s i b i l i t y of Thought"," p. 4 8 5 . 5 8 . Peloubet's B i b l e D i c t i o n a r y , P h i l a d e l p h i a , 1 9 4 7 , p. 6 0 6 . 59« E.M. F o r s t e r , Passage to I n d i a , p. 1 8 6 . 6 0 . Ardyth Bradley, "Wallace Stevens' Decorations," pp. 114- 1 5 . 6 1 . Michel Benamou, "Wallace Stevens and the Symbolist Imagination," p. 57* 6 2 . W i l l i a m Wordsworth, The Prelude, V, 11. 5 8 - 7 6 . 6 3 . I b i d . , 1 1 . 1 0 6 - 0 9 . 6 4 . I b i d . , 1 1 . 9 6 - 9 9 6 5 . W i l l i a m T y l e r O l c o t t , Star Lore of A l l Ages, pp. 3 5 6 - 5 7 . 6 6 . I b i d . , pp. 2 3 1 , 2 3 2 . 67.. Marie B o r r o f f , " I n t r o d u c t i o n : Wallace Stevens: The World and The Poet," Wallace Stevens: A C o l l e c t i o n of C r i t i c a l Essays, P.- 1 5 . 6 8 . W i l l i a m Wordsworth, The Prelude, V, 1 1 . 2 3 0 - 3 1 . 6 9 . I b i d . , 1 1 . 2 1 3 - 2 2 3 . 7 0 ; Michel Benamou, "Beyond Emerald or Amethyst: Wallace Stevens and the French T r a d i t i o n , " Dartmouth College L i b r a r y B u l l e t i n , December 1 9 6 l , p. 6 l . 7 1 . Ralph J . M i l l s , J r . , "Wallace Stevens: The Image of the Rock," Accent, X V I I I , 1 9 5 8 , pp. 7 5 - 7 9 . 7 2 ; Harold W a t t s " W a l l a c e Stevens and the Rock of Summer," pp. 1 2 3 , 124. 7 3 - I b i d . , p. 1 2 5 . 7 4 ; I b i d . , .p. 1 3 4 . 7 5 . D a n i e l , 5 * 2 5 . 7 6 ; Ralph J . M i l l s , J r . , "Wallace Stevens:-The•Image of the Rock," p. 8 4 . 7 7 . I b i d . , p. 8 8 . 181 7 8 . Stephane Mallarme, Mallarme"; Selected Prose, p. 7 7 . CONCLUSION 1. Walter T e v i s , The Man Who F e l l to Earth , Greenwich, 1963? p. 9 0 . 2 . George McFadden, "Probings f o r an I n t e g r a t i o n . . . , " p. 1 8 6 . 182 BIBLIOGRAPHY I WALLACE STEVENS Stevens, Wallace. Opus Posthumous. Ed. Samuel French Morse, New York, 1 9 5 7 . . The Collected Poems of Wallace Stevens, New York, 1955 two volumes. Humphreys, Christmas. Buddhism. Harmondsworth, 1 9 5 2 . Joyce, James. A P o r t r a i t of the A r t i s t as a Young Man. Harmondsworth, i 9 6 0 . Kant, Immanuel. The Philosophy of Kant. Ed. Carl J . F r i e d r i c h . New York, 19W* MacLeish, Archibald. Collected Poems: 1 9 1 7 - 1 9 5 2 . Cambridge, 1 9 5 2 . Mallarme^, Stephane. Selected Prose Poems, Essays, & Letters. Trans. Bradford Cook. Baltimore, 1 9 5 " . Olcott, William Tyler. Star Lore of A l l Ages. New York and London, 1 9 3 1 . Santayana, George. Interpretations of Poetry and Religion. New York, 1 9 5 7 . . Scepticism and Animal Faith; Introduction to a System of Philosophy, U.S.A., 1 9 5 5 . . The Sense of Beauty: Being the Outline of Aesthetic Theory. New York, 1955* Sartre, Jean-Paul. The Transcendence of the Ego: An E x i s t e n t i a l i s t Theory of Consciousness. Trans. Forrest Williams and Robert Kirkpatrick. New York, i 9 6 0 . Stewart, J.A. The Myths of Plato. London, 1 9 0 5 . Tevis, Walter. The Man Who. F e l l to Earth. U.S.A., . 1 9 6 3 . Vale'ry, Paul. The Art of Poetry. Trans. Denise F o l l i o t . New York, 1 9 5 8 . V i r g i l . The Aeneid. Trans. Rolf Humphries. New York, 1 9 5 1 . 187 Whyte, Rev. Charles. The C o n s t e l l a t i o n s and Their H i s t o r y . London, 1928. Wimsatt, W.K., J r . The Verbal loon. Studies i n the Meaning of Poetry. U.S.A., 1958.