Synopsis (Winters Tale)

Following a brief setup scene the play begins with the appearance of two
childhood friends: Leontes, King of Sicilia, and Polixenes, the King of
Bohemia. Polixenes is visiting the kingdom of Sicilia, and is enjoying catching
up with his old friend. However, after nine months, Polixenes yearns to return
to his own kingdom to tend to affairs and see his son. Leontes desperately
attempts to get Polixenes to stay longer, but is unsuccessful. Leontes then
decides to send his wife, Queen Hermione, to try to convince Polixenes.
Hermione agrees and with three short speeches is successful. Leontes is
puzzled as to how Hermione convinced Polixenes so easily, and Leontes
suddenly goes insane and suspects that his pregnant wife has been having
an affair with Polixenes and that the child is a bastard. Leontes orders
Camillo, a Sicilian Lord, to poison Polixenes. Camillo instead warns Polixenes
and they both flee to Bohemia.

Furious at their escape, Leontes now publicly accuses his wife of infidelity,
and declares that the child she is bearing must be illegitimate. He throws her
in prison, over the protests of his nobles, and sends two of his lords,
Cleomenes and Dion, to the Oracle at Delphi for what he is sure will be
confirmation of his suspicions. Meanwhile, the queen gives birth to a girl, and
her loyal friend Paulina takes the baby to the king, in the hopes that the sight
of the child will soften his heart. He grows angrier, however, and orders
Paulina's husband, Lord Antigonus, to take the child and abandon it in a
desolate place. Cleomenes and Dion return from Delphi with word from the
Oracle and find Hermione publicly and humiliatingly put on trial before the
king. She asserts her innocence, and asks for the word of the Oracle to be
read before the court. The Oracle states categorically that Hermione and
Polixenes are innocent, Camillo an honest man, and that Leontes will have
no heir until his lost daughter is found. Leontes shuns the news, refusing to
believe it as the truth. As this news is revealed, word comes that Leontes' son,
Mamillius, has died of a wasting sickness brought on by the accusations
against his mother. Hermione, meanwhile, falls in a swoon, and is carried
away by Paulina, who subsequently reports the queen's death to her
heartbroken and repentant husband. Leontes vows to spend the rest of his
days atoning for the loss of his son, his abandoned daughter, and his queen.

Antigonus, meanwhile, abandons the baby on the coast of Bohemia, reporting

that Hermione appeared to him in a dream and bade him name the girl
Perdita. He leaves a fardel (a bundle) by the baby containing gold and other
trinkets which suggest that the baby is of noble blood. A violent storm
suddenly appears, wrecking the ship on which Antigonus arrived. He wishes
to take pity on the child, but is chased away in one of Shakespeare's most
famous stage directions: "Exit, pursued by a bear." (It is not known whether
Shakespeare used a real bear from the London bear-pits, or an actor in bear
costume.) Fortunately, Perdita is rescued by a shepherd and his son, also
known as "Clown."

"Time" enters and announces the passage of sixteen years. Camillo, now in
the service of Polixenes, begs the Bohemian king to allow him to return to
Sicilia. Polixenes refuses and reports to Camillo that his son, Prince Florizel,
has fallen in love with a lowly shepherd girl: Perdita. He suggests to Camillo
that, to take his mind off thoughts of home, they disguise themselves and
attend the sheep-shearing feast where Florizel and Perdita will be betrothed.
At the feast, hosted by the Old Shepherd who has prospered thanks to the
gold in the fardel, the pedlar Autolycus picks the pocket of the Young
Shepherd and, in various guises, entertains the guests with bawdy songs and
the trinkets he sells. Disguised, Polixenes and Camillo watch as Florizel
(under the guise of a shepherd named Doricles) and Perdita are betrothed.
Then, tearing off the disguise, Polixenes angrily intervenes, threatening the
Old Shepherd and Perdita with torture and death and ordering his son never
to see the shepherd's daughter again. With the aid of Camillo, however, who
longs to see his native land again, Florizel and Perdita take ship for Sicilia,
using the clothes of Autolycus as a disguise. They are joined in their voyage
by the Old Shepherd and his son who are directed there by Autolycus.

In Sicilia, Leontes is still in mourning. Cleomenes and Dion plead with him
to end his time of repentance because the kingdom needs an heir. Paulina,
however, convinces the king to continue his penance until she alone finds
him a wife. Florizel and Perdita arrive, and they are greeted effusively by
Leontes. Florizel pretends to be on a diplomatic mission from his father, but
his cover is blown when Polixenes and Camillo, too, arrive in Sicilia. The
meeting and reconciliation of the kings and princes is reported by gentlemen
of the Sicilian court: how the Old Shepherd raised Perdita, how Antigonus
met his end, how Leontes was overjoyed at being reunited with his daughter,
and how he begged Polixenes for forgiveness. The Old Shepherd and Young
Shepherd, now made gentlemen by the kings, meet Autolycus, who asks them
for their forgiveness for his roguery. Leontes, Polixenes, Camillo, Florizel and
Perdita then go to Paulina's house in the country, where a statue of Hermione
has been recently finished. The sight of his wife's form makes Leontes
distraught, but then, to everyone's amazement, the statue shows signs of
vitality; it is Hermione, restored to life. As the play ends, Perdita and Florizel
are engaged, and the whole company celebrates the miracle. Despite this
happy ending typical of Shakespeare's comedies and romances, the
impression of the unjust death of young prince Mamillius lingers to the end,
being an element of unredeemed tragedy, in addition to the years wasted in
separation.
 Analysis
Written toward the end of William Shakespeares theatrical career, The
Winters Tale (1609-1611) is a story of loss and redemption. In a fit of wild
and unfounded jealousy, Leontes, the King of Sicily, convinces himself that
his pregnant wife is carrying his best friends love child. Leontess jealousy
turns to tyranny as the king proceeds to destroy his entire family and a
lifelong friendship. Sixteen long years pass, and we witness one of the most
astonishing endings in English literature.

The play is famous for its two-part structure, which makes The Winters
Tale seem like two entirely different plays that are joined together at the
end. The first three acts enact a mini-tragedy and occur in wintery Sicily,
while the second half of the play occurs in Bohemia during the summer
months and features the kind of restorative ending typical of Shakespeares
comedies.

Because of its mixed genre, the play is often referred to as one of

Shakespeares problem plays (a group that also includes Pericles,
Cymbeline, and The Tempest). To complicate matters, these works are also
referred to as Shakespeares romances, which you can read more about in
Genre.

Aside from its unique structure and Shakespeares experiments in genre,

The Winters Tale is also famous for its flagrant disregard for the classical
unities (of time, place, and action), literary rules that say all plays should
have the following features: 1) the action should take place within a 24 hour
time span; 2) the action should take place in one geographical
place/setting; 3) the play should have one main plot and no sub-plots. Most
of Shakespeares plays ignore the classical unities, but The Winters Tale
takes it a step further by having the figure Time appear on stage at the
beginning of Act 4 to announce that Shakespeare is fast-forwarding sixteen
years and changing the location from Sicily to Bohemia if anyone has a
problem, they should just get over it, please.

Much of The Winters Tale is based on Robert Greenes Pandosto, The

Triumph of Time (published 1588), a pastoral romance about a jealous king
who banishes his infant daughter and drives away his friend. Shakespeare
also draws from the story of Pygmalion in Book 10 of Ovids Metamorphoses.

Over the years, theres been some speculation that The Winters Tale is
really about King Henry VIIIs second wife, Anne Boleyn, who was beheaded
after being (unfairly) accused and convicted of adultery in 1536.
Why Should I Care?
So, you read Othello and you thought to yourself Gee. Shakespeares
tragedies are crazy brilliant, but theyre also downright depressing.
Wouldnt it be great if Big Willy had written a play that wasnt afraid to
explore weighty issues like jealousy and tyranny, but could also offer up his
audience a little hope for the future? Well, look no further, because Uncle
Shakespeare totally came through when he wrote The Winters Tale.

In fact, the play, which was written toward the end of Shakespeares long
career, seems to be a kind of redo of Othello. Both plays are a study of
jealousy and its destructive effects, but The Winters Tale has the kind of
happily-ever-after ending that we look for in fairy tales.

In The Winters Tale, Leontess sudden and unfounded fear that his
pregnant wife is sleeping with his best friend eats away at him like a
disease. Same thing happens in Othello, when the Venetian general
suspects his faithful wife is making the beast with two backs with another
guy. Both Leontes and Othello manage to screw up big time. (Othello
murders his faithful wife, and Leontes throws Hermione in the slammer and
then orders a guy to dump off his newborn daughter in the middle of
nowhere.)

The differences between the two plays, however, are pretty significant. While
Othello and Leontes both abuse and destroy their families, not all of the
damage done in The Winters Tale is permanent. With Leontes, who suffers
and repents for sixteen long years and is miraculously reunited with his
wife and long lost daughter, Shakespeare puts a redemptive spin on the
tragic story. In The Winters Tale, it seems that anything is possible and,
despite the horrible mistakes we might make in our lives, second chances
are never out of the question. No, were not saying that Shakespeare
condones domestic violence. What we are saying is that Shakespeare takes
a story about the destructiveness of jealousy and tyranny and turns it into
a fairy tale that seems to reflect a more hopeful view of humanity.

Themes
Jealousy
Friendship
Youth and Old Age
Gender
Art and Culture
Time
Suffering
Compassion and Forgiveness
How It All Goes Down

The Winters Tale opens in a Sicilian palace, where Polixenes (the King of
Bohemia) is visiting his childhood BFF, Leontes (the King of Sicily). After a
nine month visit, Polixenes is ready to head back home to Bohemia, but
Leontess devoted wife, Hermione, convinces Polixenes to stay a little bit
longer. (We should point out that Leontes asks his wife to convince Polixenes
to stay, and youll see why this is important in a moment.) As Leontes watches
his wife and best bud chat it up, Leontes suddenly becomes wildly jealous
and suspects that his very pregnant wife is having a torrid affair with
Polixenes Leontes is certain that Hermione is carrying the mans love child.
Leontes quickly arranges to have his old pal poisoned, but when Polixenes
catches wind of Leontess plot to have him offed, Polixenes flees with a
Sicilian guy named Camillo to his home in Bohemia.

Leontes is furious, so he throws his pregnant wife in the slammer, where she
gives birth to a daughter (later named Perdita). Paulina, a good friend of
Hermione and the only person willing to stand up to the jealous king, takes
the newborn to Leontes and attempts to talk some sense into him. But, alas,
King Leontes refuses to acknowledge that he is the babys daddy. To make
matters worse, Leontes orders one of his men, Antigonus, to take the little
bastard for a ride out to the Bohemian desert, where baby Perdita is left
to the harsh elements. (Yeah, we know theres no desert in Bohemia but
sometimes you just have to go with the flow.)

Meanwhile, Leontes puts Hermione on trial for adultery and treason (despite
the fact that Apollos Oracle announces Hermione is totally innocent and
warns that the king shall live without an heir if Perdita, who is in the
process of being disappeared, is not found. During Hermiones trial, a servant
enters with news that Prince Mammilius (the precocious young son of
Hermione and Leontes) has died because hes been so upset about the way
Leontes is treating his mother. When Hermione hears the news, she falls to
the ground and, soon after, were told she is also dead. Leontes realizes what
hes done and has a sudden change of heart he immediately falls to his
knees and begs forgiveness from the god Apollo for being such a rotten
husband, father, and friend, which is nice to hear but is pretty much a day
late and a dollar short.

Meanwhile, Antigonus reaches the coast of Bohemia (yeah, we know theres

no coast in landlocked Bohemia either, but again, we just have to go with
it). Antigonus dumps off baby Perdita andis promptly eaten by a hungry
bear! (Were not even kidding.) Luckily, an Old Shepherd happens along and
finds baby Perdita, along with a bundle of riches and some documents that
detail the kids royal heritage. (Remember this, because its important later.)
The Old Shepherd and his country bumpkin son (the Clown) decide, what the
heck, lets keep the cash and raise the kid as our own.
A figure called Time appears on stage and announces that sixteen years
have passed and the audience should just sit back, relax, and enjoy Big Willie
Shakespeares show. (FYI: Flash-forwards were kind of a big no-no on the
English Renaissance stage so, Shakespeares being kind of innovative and
irreverent here. Check out Setting if you want to know more about this.)

At a Bohemian sheep-shearing festival (a big, spring/summer party that uses

sheep haircuts as an excuse for everyone to celebrate the nice weather and
for young people to hook up), we learn that Perdita has grown up to be the
prettiest girl in Bohemia (which is why she gets to be Queen of the Feast) and
is going steady with a gorgeous young prince named Florizel, who just so
happens to be the son of King Polixenes. (Yep, thats Leontess ex-best friend
all right. You probably see where this is going.) Theres just one hitch King
Polixenes doesnt know his son is dating a lowly shepherds daughter. (As you
can see, nobody knows Perditas true identity not even Perdita.) When
Polixenes finds out, he tries to put the kibosh on the young couples
engagement. Florizel, throwing caution to the wind, defies daddys wishes.
Whats a father to do? Why, threaten to have Perditas face disfigured and
declare hes going to have the Old Shepherd executed, of course. (Hmm. Is it
just us or, does Polixenes sound a lot like the tyrannous Leontes here?)

Florizel and Perdita run off to Sicily, where Leontes has been beating himself
up for the last sixteen years (with the help of Paulina, who has seen to it that
Leontes never, ever, ever forgets that hes responsible for the deaths of
Hermione and Mammilius). Polixenes and his entourage chase the couple to
the Sicilian court. Before Polixenes can break up the couple and make good
on his promise to scratch up Perditas pretty, young face, the Old Shepherd
and the Clown arrive at Leontess court with the letters that verify Perditas
identity. (Remember the bundle of cash and documents Antigonus left with
baby Perdita before he was eaten by a bear?)

Big sigh of relief now the royal couple can get hitched and Sicily will finally
have a royal heir to take over Leontess reign when the old man dies. Plus,
Leontes and Polixenes can be best buds again.

But wait, theres more. Paulina invites the entire crew to her place, where she
unveils a statue of Hermione. Everyone oohs and ahs over how lifelike the
statue is when suddenly and miraculously the statue isnot a statue at all
but a very alive Hermione. Hurray! Leontes and Hermione reunite as husband
and wife. Leontes then announces that Paulina should get hitched to Camillo
(since Paulinas late husband was eaten by a bear on account of Leontes and
all).

And they all live happily ever after (except for Mammilius and Antigonus, who
are still dead).
Analysis sparknotes
The Winter's Tale is a perfect tragicomedy. Set in an imaginary world where
Bohemia has a seacoast, and where ancient Greek oracles coexist with
Renaissance sculptors, it offers three acts of unremitting tragedy, followed by
two acts of restorative comedy. In between, sixteen years pass hastily, a lapse
which many critics have taken as a structural flaw, but which actually only
serves to highlight the disparity of theme, setting, and action between the two
halves of the play. The one is set amid gloomy winter, and illuminates the
destructive power that mistaken jealousy exercises over the family of Leontes,
King of Sicilia; in the second half, flower-strewn spring intervenes, and all the
damage that the King's folly accomplished is undonethrough coincidence,
goodwill, and finally through miracle, as a statue of his dead wife comes to
life and embraces him.

As the force behind the tragedy stems from Leontes's belief that his wife,
Hermione, and best friend, King Polixenes of Bohemia, are lovers, so Leontes
has attracted more critical interest than any other character in the play. An
Othello who is his own Iago, he is a perfect paranoiac, convinced that he has
all the facts and ready to twist any counter-argument to fit his (mistaken)
perception of the world. Perhaps because of its uncertain origin, Leontes's
madness is a terrifying thing: he becomes a poet of nihilism, demanding,
when told that there is "nothing" between Hermione and Polixenes, "Is this
nothing? / Why, then the world and all that's in't is nothing, / The covering
sky's nothing, Bohemia nothing, / My wife is nothing, nor nothing have these
nothings, / If this be nothing"(I.ii.292-296). The roots of his jealousy seem to
run too deep for the play to plumbthere are hints of misogyny, of dynastic
insecurity, and of an inability to truly separate himself psychologically from
Polixenes, but no definitive answers. Indeed, the only answer is his ownin
one of Shakespeare's finer images, Leontes says "I have drunk, and seen the
spider"(II.i.45).

To balance his morbid, brooding nihilism and sexual jealousy, Shakespeare

makes Leontes's daughter Perdita a poet of spring, rebirth, and revitalization,
whose own lover (Polixenes's son Florizel) is as constant and generous as
Leontes is suspicious and cruel. She appears decked in flowers, and when
she dispenses them to everyone around her, the play links her with
Proserpina, Roman goddess of the spring and growing things. If Leontes is a
tragic hero, then she is a fairy-tale heroine, a princess reared among
commoners who falls in love with a prince andeventuallylives happily ever
after. Leontes casts her out as an infant in Act III, when he is in the grip of
darkness; in Act V she returns to him, and restores him to happiness. The
miracle of Hermione's resurrection at the play's close is only a fitting close to
the spirit of rebirth that Perdita brings into the story.
The play is also notable for its rich group of supporting characters. Hermione
is an exemplary and eloquent figure, despite the fact that she spends the play
defending herself against unjust accusations, and her friend Paulina is the
voice of sanity while Leontes is mad and then the voice of reminder and
penance once he regrets his crimes. The rustic Shepherd who takes in Perdita
and the ever-faithful lord, Camillo are both sympathetic characters, too, but
none can match Autolycus, the peddler, thief and minstrel who is a harmless
villain (he robs, lies, and cheats)so harmless, in fact, that the audience
forgives and even applauds him as he sings, dances, and robs his way
through the play, contriving even to find time to provide a helping hand to
the other characters as they struggle toward their happy ending.

Discuss and analyze Leontes's jealousy.

The innocence of Hermione is never in doubtevery
character in the play testifies to it, and the Oracle confirms
itso Leontes's suspicions of his wife and best friend are
clearly irrational. As the victim of misplaced jealousy, he
resembles one of the most famous Shakespearean heroes,
Othello, who murders his wife Desdemona because he
believes her to be unfaithful. But Othello is led into error by
his villainous aide, Iago, whereas Leontes is his own Iago
the entire dream of adultery is concocted within his own
mind. The play offers us hints, in the childhood friendship
of the two kings, and the suggestion that Leontes may have
been too close to Polixenes; in the king's insecurity over the
legitimacy of Mamillius, and the threat that bastards posed
to any kingdom; in Leontes's misogyny and fear of women,
which comes out when Paulina tries to reason with him. But
none of these is sufficient to solve the problem, and
Shakespeare seems to intend it thus. "Your actions are my
dreams," (III.ii.81) Leontes tells Hermione, and while he
means it sarcastically, the play does nothe has allowed his
nightmares to infect his view of the waking world.
Discuss the changes in mood, plot and imagery that occur
between Act I-III and Act IV-V.
In Mamillius's words, "a sad tale's best for winter," (II.i.25)
and the first three acts are set in a Sicilian winter, and are
determinedly sad. Indeed, these acts offer a kind of
miniature tragedy, as Leontes's errors, like Lear's or
Othello's, bring death and destruction down upon his family
and kingdom. What makes The Winter's Tale a romance,
rather than a tragedy, is the abrupt shift in mood after Time
announces the passage of sixteen years, and the action
shifts to Bohemia. Winter comes to an end, and spring
enters, bringing with it the promise of rebirthand as the
seasons change, so the story shifts away from tragedy and
into the realm of fairy tale and romantic comedy. The
imagery of Act IV is dominated by the flowers that Perdita
wears and dispenses as hostess of the sheepshearing, and
the mood of the act is found in the cheerful songs of
Autolycus. This spirit is eventually brought back to Sicilia,
where Act V undoes much of what seemed so tragic in Act
IIIPerdita is restored to her rightful home, Hermione is
restored to life, and even Paulina is given a new husband.
The Winter's Tale, then, ends the way all winters endby
giving its characters the promise of forgiveness and a fresh
start.
Discuss the resurrection scene. Is the apparent miracle
real?
There is evidence on both sides of this question. Paulina,
who orchestrates the entire sceneand who ostensibly
commissioned the statueseems remarkably unsurprised
by the "miracle," and she is, after all, our only witness to the
fact that Hermione actually died. Her behavior in the years
since suggests a foreknowledge of her queen's return, as she
steadfastly kept the king fixated on his own guilt, and on the
impossibility of ever marrying again. On the other hand, if
the entire business is only a trick, it seems rather an over-
the-top stunt for two level-headed women like Hermione and
Paulina to orchestrate. And no one who witnesses the
miracle raises even a scrap of doubt as to whether the statue
was ever an actual statue. Clearly, Shakespeare wants to
have it both waysa genuine miracle to cap off his "Tale,"
and a hint of a naturalistic explanation for the careful
reader. And in either case, the miracle is an appropriate
conclusion to the play, since it provides for a truly happy
ending that Hermione's death seemed to place out of reach.
Discuss the role of setting in the play.
Analyze the character of Autolycus, and discuss his role in
the play.
Analyze the character of Perdita, and her relationship to
nature.
Discuss the role of divine intervention in the play, especially
the miracle scene and the Delphic Oracle.
Discuss the role of women in the play, and their
relationships with their husbands/lovers.
Analyze the character of Camillo. What is his function in the
play?
Would you categorize The Winter's Tale with Shakespeare's
comedies, or his tragedies? Some scholars have grouped it
with The Tempest, Pericles, and Cymbeline as a "romance."
Would you agree with this grouping? Why or why not?
/QUESTION


AddThis Sharing Buttons

Share to Google BookmarkShare to FacebookShare to TwitterShare to PrintMore AddThis Share options

Summary (Literary Masterpieces, Critical Compilation)

print Print
document PDF
list Cite
link Link

The Redress of Poetry had its origin in fifteen lectures that Seamus Heaney delivered in his role as professor
of poetry at the University of Oxford from 1989 to 1994. Ten of the lectures are reprinted in the book, which
is both a defense of poetry and an analysis of poets ranging from Christopher Marlowe in the sixteenth
century to Elizabeth Bishop in the twentieth century.

The introduction to the book gives a context for the various ways Heaney will discover that poetry provides
a redress or relief to the reader. For example, he cites a late poem by Robert Frost called Directive to
show that poetry is an imaginative transformation of human life. Poetry does not dwell in the world of
fact, represented by the painful events within the house Frost describes in earnest, but in the imaginative
world, suggested by the playhouse of the children. This imagined world can heal humans and make them
whole, by encompassing and transforming painful reality into pleasure.

The next chapter, The Redress of Poetry, attempts to define some of the possible ways of seeing this
redress. Heaney begins with the more obvious definitions of the word as reparation or compensation
of a wrong. Yet it can also mean to set right, to restore or re-establish. These obsolete meanings suggest
further ways that poetry may affect a reader. Furthermore, Heaney finds an even more obsolete definition
taken from hunting: to bring back (the hounds or the deer) to the proper course.

The restorative power of poetry is, for Heaney, its most important function. Heaney is especially eager to
defend the delight in poetry against those who would make it an instrument of political correctness and so
serve some specific social or political purpose. He cites the example of the Irish rebel Thomas MacDonagh,
who participated in and was executed after the 1916 Uprising. MacDonagh despised the British Empire and
its refusal to give freedom to Ireland. As Heaney insists, however, MacDonagh did not reject the poetic
tradition of Britain and even wrote a book on Thomas Campions metrics. In the 1990s, that tradition, and
the canon it represented, is being displaced by those who wish to replace it with literary works that are
written by or for members of various groups that have been oppressed. Heaney wishes to preserve the
surprise and joy that poetry provides in the face of such demands.

Extending the Alphabet deals with the style of Christopher Marlowe. Heaney speaks of how he was
overwhelmed as a college student by hearing a skilled reader deliver Marlowes mighty lines. In the essay,
however, he discusses Marlowes long unfinished poem Hero and Leander. Some might find in that poem
a defense of homosexuality or condemn it as being sexist, but Heaney insists that if read correctly, it yields a
fine excess and a sheer pleasure in the power of language. Any attempt to use the poem for a partisan
cause ignores what is most important in it; such a reading is self-serving, not a true response.

In an essay on John Clares poetry, Heaney sorts out the permanent and important poems of Clare from the
more ephemeral ones. He considers that the celebrated poems that Clare wrote in his madness and poverty
do not represent him at his best or show the poet in his true poetic element. Instead, Heaney believes that the
true poems of Clare are those on nature, such as Mouses Nest. Yet he singles out as Claires most
important and influential poems those written on the enclosure of the land in the nineteenth century,
especially Swordy Well. That model of protest still pays attention to poetic effects, as effortless as they
may seem. Heaney cites, for example, the ballad stanza as a traditional form that kept Clare on the right
road poetically. At the end of the essay, Heaney sees Clare as a possible model for a postmodern poetry
that can offer social protest yet still retain the imaginative demands of poetic language. He even claims that
the best of recent British poetry is indebted to the style and practice of Clare.

The essay on Oscar Wildes The Ballad of Reading Gaol is curious in the compromises Heaney seems to
make in his demand for the primacy of poetic language over social content. He discusses Wildes use of the
ballad stanza in The Ballad of Reading Gaol as following the example of his mother. Wildes mother
wrote a number of propaganda poems for the cause of Ireland under the name Sperenza. The ballad stanza,
however, was not appropriate for the content or the style of Wildes poem. In addition, Wilde was too close
to his subject and could not distinguish between the pain he suffered and the distance his art needed. Heaney
claims, however, that the poem provides a redress, since Wilde the aesthete was stripped of his dandys
clothes to...

(The entire section is 1996 words.)

Heaneys Concept of Redressing Effects of Poetry

December 5, 2010 neoenglish MA English-Literature
Introduction

The more we understand about poetry the better we can appreciate its unique contribution to our
lives. As men and women committed to learning and advancing a Biblical worldview, we must not
neglect the benefits poetry can bring to our lives. Poetry has much to teach us about the deeper
significance of ordinary things, the workings of the soul, the nature of true pleasure and the
meaning of delight, and the power of artful language.
Further, reading and meditating on poetry can make us better readers overall, and more acute
observers of the world around us. As one whose calling is to be an interpreter of Gods Word, I
shall be forever grateful for my undergraduate training and ongoing studies in poetry, for they
have been of much help in the exegetical and hermeneutical work of isolating units of meaning and
interpreting texts. As important as this, however, has been the value poetry has been in helping
me to understand the human condition, become a more careful observer of the world, and find
satisfaction in words and images. But, in order to gain the benefits poetry can afford us, we must
apply ourselves to learning how poetry works, and what the work of poetry is. Poets can sometimes
be our best guides in this quest for understanding, particularly when their poems lead us behind
the veil of poetrys mysteries and reveal to us the inner workings of the craft. Seamus Heaney, the
Irish Nobel laureate, is an especially helpful and altogether willing guide in this cause. In many of
his poems and all his prose works he invites us to consider the work of poetry from the
inside. Heaney helps us to understand the poets sense of calling to this work; shows us what work
a poem can do; gives us insight into the actual work of making poems; and helps us to understand
how good poems work to accomplish their objective. All these poetic features are claimed by
Heaney in his Redress of Poetry. The Redress of Poetry is a series of lectures given by Seamus
Heaney at Oxford; in all of them, he examines poetry and how it can be strong enough to help the
reader, to act as an equal force to the life lived by the reader. He looks at all kinds of poets Dylan
Thomas, Christopher Marlowe, Yeats, Wilde and Bishop and of course talks about his own
position as a Catholic from the Northern Ireland living in Dublin. In all the lectures Heaney is
wonderfully informal and funny, while still solidly getting across how important and vital these
writers are. The lecture on Thomas alone is a great lesson on writing and authenticity, and the last
one, Frontiers of Writing, makes a strong case that a nation is imagined by writers first that
language, poetry, opens up possibilities in nations as well as in people. Though he knows that
words cant do everything, Heaneys affection for writing and writers is convincing.

Heaneys imaginative power

Heaneys redressing of poetry is vividly imaginative, whilst being firmly rooted in reality. Seamus
Heaney is described as imaginative and honest whilst enabling him to share his views on the
political and social situation in Ireland at that time. Through the use of metaphors and strong
imagery aided by his choice of form and structure Heaney is able to appeal to a wide range of
people. The use of etymology, the study of words, furthers this.
His approach to Redress of poetry is all nostalgic as a result of Heaneys upbringing and his family
situation. Heaney says that poetry should be used to voice his feelings of insecurity after the birth
of his first child. Within this section in Blackberry Picking Heaney uses the childhood tradition of
picking blackberries to express his adult view on how naively hopeful he was as a child. The poem
is used as a metaphor to explain that even as an adult that a recurring delusion, where there is a
perpetual consciousness that life, love and youth do not keep but the temptation for another try is
always succumbed to. Heaneys use of metaphors in order to relate a current feeling through a
childhood incident gives evidence of not only his feelings but also is able to be related to by many
who feel they are unable to express their views in similar situations. Heaney is able to appeal to
these readers, through showing his feelings of worthlessness and dejection after the birth of a
child, through the use of poetry. Heaneys poetry is described as being rooted in reality because he
is able to express his truthful emotions I hoped theyd keep, knew they would not despite the
social constraints of having to feel ecstatic after the birth of a child.
Poetry and emotions
Heaneys success in showing his emotions is as a result of the strong imaginative imagery our
palms sticky as Bluebeards. This use of strong imagery shows Heaneys desire to create a perfect
portrait of the image within his mind. Heaney uses lavish description in order to create the lust for
picking. By juxtaposing this with his negative view lovely canfuls smelt of rot he heightens the
impact of his condescending adult perspective of how things never live up to our expectations. His
own poetry apart from the critical work of redress of poetry asserts this fact. The poem Requiem
for the Croppies describes rebel farmers in 1798 striving to save their land in a vicious battle with
English armies. Heaney uses the poem to give voice to those to whom history has denied. The use
of a possessive pronoun we shows the reader which side they are encouraged to identify with,
reinforced by the lack of rhyme scheme to show their deficiency of army knowledge. The poem is
inventive in portraying a scene often forgotten we moved quick and sudden in our own country. It
also shows Heaneys imagination in recreating a full picture of a scene based before his time in
situations Heaney has never experienced. Heaney is able to show the reality of death in they
buried us without shroud or coffin whilst praising their spirit in dying for those in Ireland in
reference to Requiem in the title.
Poetry and politics
In each of Heaneys poems is an underlying implication of Heaneys political views. In Requiem
for the Croppies Heaney refers to the barley grew up out of the grave and in doing so reflects on
how little the Irish in Ulster appreciate the martyrs who died for the cause. In the poems
throughout Wintering Out Heaney embellishes this, particularly in Gifts of Rain. At first read the
poem regards a simple river akin to the poem Broagh. However, in the line I cock my ear / at an
absence Heaney refers to those who have died and have worked to uniting Ireland without
violence. He asks for help to go back in time to hear advice from those who have made a difference
in uniting Ireland Soft voices of the dead are whispering by the shore. The use of the central
imagery throughout the poem of water reflects the nature of being purged, to come out clean with
a fresh beginning. Heaneys ability to be firmly rooted in reality is most clearly shown in each
poem through his ability to connect everyday landscapes such as the River Moyola to the political
situation in Ireland.
Seamus Heaney and Irish Tradition
In the poems featured in Wintering Out Heaney uses several examples of a tradition known in
Irish poetry as dinnshenchas. Through this Heaney explores the linguistic elements and lore of a
place name. In the poem Anahorish, Heaney explores the place name of where he went to school
as a child. Heaneys analysis of the names phonetics, soft gradient / of consonant, vowel meadow
leads him to imagine the landscape to which the name was attached. He believes the rise and fall of
the word over the consonants reflects the gradient of the land, rising and falling. This is further
embellished upon throughout the poem Gifts of Rain. Heaney analyses the phonetic sounds of the
name of the local river Moyola , the tawny guttural water, spells itself: Moyola. The name reflects
the undulating notion of the waters movements. Heaney shows through his use of etymology his
imagination in reflecting sounds with place names and imagining the histories that add to this. In
connecting this with the political situation of Ireland, Heaney shows how by taking an elaborate
concept behind a place name one can resolutely connect this to our lives today.
Evidence for Heaneys ability to connect a place name and the political situation in Ireland is most
identifiably showing Broagh. Heaney connects both the linguistic etymology and the political
views within the poem to give an underlying message only accessible by the Irish. In taking a
simple concept such as a river the poem is taken at face value to be regarding a riverbank. Heaney
uses the word Broagh and compares this to the landscape of a riverbank. However, the poem title
Broagh meaning riverbank is unable to be voiced by the English as is pronounced bruach in
Irish, ended almost suddenly / like the last gh the strangers found difficult to manage. In using
words of an Irish only dialect such as rigs and docken, Heaney isolates the English reader to
unite Ireland through linguistics, Broagh is a sound native to Ireland, common to unionist and
Nationalist but unavailable to the English (Heaney).
Poetry as calling Poetry for Seamus Heaney is his lifes calling. In Digging, one of his first
published works, he likens his calling as a poet to the work of his father and grandfather. He looks
upon his fathers work of digging potatoes and his grandfathers labor digging peat as noble
callings, but not right for him. Indeed, he seems to regard himself as not of the same caliber of
stuff to follow in their footsteps. Instead, he will take up another traditional Irish vocation, that
of the poet. He will dig that is, make his mark on the earth and provide for his needs as a poet.
But his work in this vocation will also allow him to dig up mysteries and delightful images to
benefit others. This sense of the poets calling Heaney explores more fully in The Diviner. Here
he presents poetry as divination and the poet likened unto one who uses a forked stick to divine
for water. As he wrote in an essay entitled, Feeling Into Worlds, The diviner resembles the poet
in his function of making contact with what lies hidden, and in his ability to make palpable what
was sensed or raised. As the diviner needs a forked stick to discover hidden water, the poet needs
the tools of his trade, and a certain confidence that hidden mysteries and meanings actually exist,
in order to bring those freshets of meaning to the surface.
This same idea can be seen in The Rain Stick, where the poet leads us to discover worlds of
water, and all the images and sentiments associated with those worlds, in the very place where no
water exists whatsoever, the hollowed out branch of a cactus plant in which seeds and grit rush
from one end to the other as the stick is upended.
Few poets including Heaney are able to make their living entirely by writing verse. However,
this does not prevent their taking up poetry as their primary calling, the means by which they seek
to realize their reason for being, and through which they hope to make the world a little more
expansive and meaningful for the rest of us. Heaney regards the poets work, as he wrote in The
Redress of Poetry, to be that of [bringing] human existence into a fuller life:
We go to poetry, we go to literature in general, to be forwarded within ourselves. The best it can
do is to give us an experience that is like foreknowledge of certain things which we already seem
to be remembering. What is at work in this most original and illuminating poetry is the minds
capacity to conceive a new plane of regard for itself, a new scope for its own activity.
The poet whose work accomplishes this objective makes an extremely useful contribution to the
rest of us.
The Function of Poetry But what does poetry do? What does it achieve? Two of Seamus
Heaneys objectives in the work of poetry are to dare and to delight. In Digging we see this idea
of the poet as daredevil only in the background. It is skillfully suggested in the final stanza, which
repeats the first stanza except for the omission of the words, snug as a gun. Heaney grew up in
strife-torn Northern Ireland, and was himself torn with what his own role should be in view of the
troubles. Should he just retire from nations pain and be a rural farmer, like his forebears? A
noble and traditional calling, to be sure, but hardly the kind of work that will redeem a
nation. Should he become a revolutionary? But can violence against ones neighbors ever
accomplish true redemption? His refusal to follow either of these paths would cause him trouble
and pain at various times in his life. But by becoming a poet a filidh, in the Celtic tradition he
keeps his Irish roots firm and takes up a calling that, he believes, has redemptive potential. And by
omitting the phrase, snug as a gun, in the closing stanza he makes us mindful, by the absence of
this image, which is nevertheless in his mind, that he believes his poetry can make its own
revolutionary contribution to his nations future.
In many of his poems he dares his readers to find in verse a way out of their present, stultifying
existence by delighting them with the experience of new worlds water where there is none (The
Rain Stick) or where one has to search carefully and diligently to find it (The Diviner). He
challenges us to engage our imagination with ordinary things in order to discover extraordinary
new meanings and possibilities. He dares his readers to let their minds expand to consider new
worlds beyond their present, and to hope for better things, even as he delights them with
remarkable and even unforgettable images. As he wrote in The Redress of Poetry,
An exuberant rhythm, a display of metrical virtuosity, some rising intellectual ground
successfully surmounted experiencing things like these gratifies and furthers the range of the
minds and the bodys pleasures, and helps the reader to obey the old command: nosce
teipsum. Know thyself.
The techniques of Poets In order to fulfill his calling and accomplish his purpose to dare and to
delight, the poet must become a careful observer of the world around him, able to associate images
of various kinds with one another and to link these with other images and ideas in order to reach
into the soul of the reader. We see him doing this in a remarkable way in Digging. His father
digging in the flower bed recalls an image of his father twenty years earlier digging potatoes. This
connects with an image of his grandfather digging peat, with all the sights and sounds each image
suggests. Then to connect their work with his own the work of poetry accomplishes the effect
of rolling all the nobility and nuance, sweat and struggle, harvest and happiness of his fathers and
grandfathers vocations into his own choice of work. In so doing he invites the reader to consider
his or her own sense of calling and connectedness to the past, present, and future.
The images that appear in Heaneys poetry come from his rural past, experiences he has known,
Irelands history and troubles, and everyday objects. Like the diviner the poet must believe there is
in every image that presents itself to his mind a refreshing truth to be discovered. So, nervous,
but professionally/Unfussed, he takes up the tools of his trade the squat pen between his
thumb and finger and begins to walk the terrain of the image, waiting for the pluck of what lies
beneath to announce its presence.
The working mechanism of poetry The challenge then becomes to relate that pluck in an
image that will be familiar to the reader, so that what the poet experiences can be the readers
experience as well. But it is not enough just to leave the reader saying, I get it. The poet wants
the reader not just to see what he sees or know what he has come to know; he wants the reader to
feel all the excitement, wonder, pain, anxiety, joy, or delight that he himself experienced in the
process of making these associations of images. In order to accomplish this the poet draws on
subtle devices such as the slant-rhyme scheme in The Diviner and the careful alliteration of
ss and ck sounds to replicate the slushing and trickling of water in The Rain Stick. A poet
must have [a]n awareness of his own poetic process, and a trust in the possibility of his poetry in
order to bring his art to life (Canticles to the Earth). At the end of Digging were left with a
kind of curiosity about the poets sense of calling by that modified image: Is he not going to use his
poetry in a revolutionary manner? Or will his revolution be more subtle? He lets us know
elsewhere that his purpose is clearly the latter, when he writes of poetrys high potential, its
function as an agent of possible transformation, of evolution towards that more radiant and
generous life which the imagination desires (The Redress of Poetry).
Good poetry can thus expand our imagination, enlarge our world, enrich our experience, and
enlighten our worldview. Because of the power of poetry to capture the affections, communicate
ideas in images, and point people toward new possibilities, we who are committed to the Biblical
worldview could realize much benefit by devoting at least part of our time in this endeavor to
developing our ability to read and enjoy poetry. Seamus Heaneys work can be an excellent place
to begin or further refine your skills in this endeavor.

Conclusion
Heaneys poetry is referred to as vividly imaginative, whilst being firmly rooted in reality, a
sentence of which is essential in understanding Heaneys poetry. Throughout each collection
Heaney takes a central idea of childhood or place names and connects these through his own
emotions to his strong feelings on the disastrous political situation in Ireland, I am afraid.
However, The strong emotions Heaney feels connected through a central face value theme is most
strongly shown through Heaneys evocative imagery, metaphors and structure. Heaneys poetry
endeavours to be vivid through using strong personal messages that relate to the reader but
succeeds most readily by combining this with the subtlety of using a common theme. All the above
features in Heaneys poetry shows that as a poet, Heaney himself has achieved the redressing
effects of poetry.

A Critical Appreciation of Redress of Poetry

Introduction
Comprised of the lectures Seamus Heaney delivered as professor of poetry at Oxford, this book is
evidence not only of the commitment of the new Nobel laureate to his craft, but of the generosity of
his spirit and the eloquence of his tongue. The apparently casual and unsystematic nature of the
approach, with lectures on poets as diverse as, among others, Christopher Marlowe, George
Herbert, Brian Merriman, John Clare and Elizabeth Bishop, serves only to emphasise the
coherence and integrity of his view of poetry.

He says that he felt that "a reliable critical course could be plotted by following a poetic sixth
sense". That sixth sense is by now utterly trustworthy, and one of the great pleasures of the volume
is to see how heterogeneous poets are yoked so stimulatingly together, not by violence, but by a
lovely unforced sensitivity. The lectures examine different ways in which poetry may redress the
imperfections of our state (and of our states) and yet remain stubbornly itself: "the idea of poetry
as an answer, and the idea of an answering poetry as a responsible poetry, and the idea of poetry's
answer, its responsibility, being given in its own language rather than in the language of the world
that provokes it" this is how Heaney sees his central theme.
Heaneys belief and faith
Heaney's basic belief is that poetry helps us to have life and have it more abundantly. There is
nothing grandiose or solemn in his advocacy: the more abundant life may be derived from our
attention to John Clare's old mouse bolting in the wheat, or to the tender eroticism of Marlowe's
"Hero and Leader", as much as from our respect before the sonorities of Yeats. Heaney's vision of
poetry is, nevertheless, religious in the wider sense of the term, and this book is his defence of
poetry in terms which Joyce, another priest of the imagination, would have approved: "the
imaginative transformation of human life is the means by which we can most truly grasp and
comprehend it".
Dancing alongside the gravitas, as has also been the case in Heaney's recent volume of poetry,
Seeing Things, there is a high-spirited celebration of the sheer pleasure of poetry. Indeed, Heaney
himself insists on the correct priority: "the movement is always from delight to wisdom and not
vice versa". There is throughout the lectures a most attractive insistence on the freedom of poetry
from all kinds of political correctness, on the way in which the achieved or fully imagined poem is
"a great unfettered event".
Thus he speaks generously about Dylan Thomas, of his desire to "affirm his kind of afflatus as a
constant possibility for poetry, something not superannuated by the irony and self-knowing tactics
of the art in postmodern times"; thus he praises the "spirit of hilarity and transgression" in the
extravagance of Merriman's "The Midnight Court". The essay on Merriman is especially fine in its
unforced demonstration of the truth of Heaney's belief that great poetry should "answer" to the
conditions of the world (in this case, 18th-century Ireland suffering under the penal laws), yet
remain unconstrained in the imaginative largeness of its procedures, so that "it represents not a
submission to the conditions of the world, but a creative victory over them". One thinks of many
great poems by Heaney himself, such as "The Other Side", "Casualty", and "The Strand at Lough
Beg", which offer the redress of poetry to the intransigent conditions of his own province.
His tone and style
Heaney's tone is celebratory, but he cannot be confused with a chit-chat show. While duly praising
the "inspirational" qualities of Hugh MacDiamid, he also speaks of his "linguistic overweening", of
his doctrinal extremism, his anglophobia, and his "vindictive nativism", and even, woundingly,
says that "the blether of William McGonagall" sporadically overwhelms MacDiarmid's own voice.
Dylan Thomas was the "in-house bohemian" of the literary establishments on both sides of the
Atlantic, offering himself too readily as a form of spectator sport. Oscar Wilde's "literary tragedy
was that he did become like his mother" in the fervency of the rhetoric of parts of "The Ballad of
Reading Gaol".
Heaney never gives in to malice pure and simple, however, and one keeps returning to the sense of
his openness to many different types of literary experience. His most telling rebukes are aimed at
trends in contemporary criticism which are producing a narrowing of the reader's arteries. Here is
his sturdy defence of the "untrammelled climb" of Marlowe's verse in Tamburlaine: "Though I
have learned to place this poetry's expansionist drive in the context of nascent English
imperialism, I am still grateful for the enlargements it offered, the soaring orchestration, the roll-
call of place names and of figures from classical mythology. . . It is necessary to find a way of
treating the marvellously aspiring note of his work as something more than a set of discourses to
be unmasked."
Heaneys religious Redress
For Seamus Heaney, as it is for many who originate from Northern Ireland, religion is closely
allied to politics. Heaney's religious ideals, however, extend beyond the divisiveness of
sectarianism, and stem from the desire for unity, balance and redress. He finds these religious and
social ideals voiced by Simone Weil, the religious writer and social activist. The religious nature of
Heaney's early poems originates in part from his regard for the landscape as a sacramental book
that offers an alternative reality beyond the covert level of meaning. By naming or renaming a
place, one has written or rewritten one's meanings onto it, endowing it with an alternative reality.
Hence, the first task of historical redress is to recover the poet's alternative or Celtic heritage
beneath the Anglicisation of place names. The second task, which balances and interrogates the
first, is to seek out the linguistic heritage shared by the Celts and their British colonisers. Heaney's
etymological endeavours, therefore, work to uncover and unite the different and yet interrelated
cultural identities of Ireland and Northern Ireland. Likewise, his desire for equilibrium enables
him to reread and interrogate the wounded text-bodies of sectarian martyrs, thereby challenging
their apotheosis. He compares the poet to a medieval poet-scribe whose function was to negotiate
between two differing visions of reality, the pagan and the Christian. Similarly, he believes the
present-day poet may offer the middle way of peace and redress.
Conclusion
Heaney is a great critic because he is a great reader, ever alert to "minor points of major
importance". He speaks of "the immaculate ballet of courtesy and equilibrium" in that poem of
Herbert which begins "Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back"; he writes of Clare's "totally
alert love for the one-thing-after-anotherness of the world". The humanist theme of the great essay
comparing the attitudes of Larkin and Yeats to death has already been much commented upon, but
not its beautiful sensitivity to the contrast between the rooks of Yeats's cold heaven, Hopkins's
dapple-dawn-drawn falcon, the carolings of Hardy's darkling thrush, and the silence of the birds in
Larkin's dawn-song. Here is where the poet-critic does his real work. Reading Heaney on poetry
makes one want to say with George Herbert, one of the poets celebrated in these lectures, "I once
more smell the dew and rain, /and relish versing".
Algernon Moncrieff's flat in Half Moon Street, W

The play opens with Algernon Moncrieff, an idle young gentleman, receiving his best friend, John
Worthing, whom he knows as Ernest. Ernest has come from the country to propose to Algernon's cousin,
Gwendolen Fairfax. Algernon, however, refuses his consent until Ernest explains why his cigarette case
bears the inscription, "From little Cecily, with her fondest love to her dear Uncle Jack." 'Ernest' is forced to
admit to living a double life. In the country, he assumes a serious attitude for the benefit of his young ward,
the heiress Cecily Cardew, and goes by the name of John (or, as a nickname, Jack), while pretending that he
must worry about a wastrel younger brother named Ernest in London. In the city, meanwhile, he assumes the
identity of the libertine Ernest. Algernon confesses a similar deception: he pretends to have an invalid friend
named Bunbury in the country, whom he can "visit" whenever he wishes to avoid an unwelcome social
obligation. Jack refuses to tell Algernon the location of his country estate.

Gwendolen and her formidable mother Lady Bracknell now call on Algernon who distracts Lady Bracknell
in another room while Jack proposes to Gwendolen. She accepts, but seems to love him very largely for his
professed name of Ernest. Jack accordingly resolves to himself to be rechristened "Ernest". Discovering
them in this intimate exchange, Lady Bracknell interviews Jack as a prospective suitor. Horrified to learn
that he was adopted after being discovered as a baby in a handbag at Victoria Station, she refuses him and
forbids further contact with her daughter. Gwendolen, though, manages covertly to promise to him her
undying love. As Jack gives her his address in the country, Algernon surreptitiously notes it on the cuff of
his sleeve: Jack's revelation of his pretty and wealthy young ward has motivated his friend to meet her.

Act II
The Garden of the Manor House, Woolton

Alexander in Act II (1909 revival)

Cecily is studying with her governess, Miss Prism. Algernon arrives, pretending to be Ernest Worthing, and
soon charms Cecily. Long fascinated by Uncle Jack's hitherto absent black sheep brother, she is predisposed
to fall for Algernon in his role of Ernest (a name she, like Gwendolen, is apparently particularly fond of).
Therefore, Algernon, too, plans for the rector, Dr. Chasuble, to rechristen him "Ernest".

Jack, meanwhile, has decided to abandon his double life. He arrives in full mourning and announces his
brother's death in Paris of a severe chill, a story undermined by Algernon's presence in the guise of Ernest.

Gwendolen now enters, having run away from home. During the temporary absence of the two men, she
meets Cecily, each woman indignantly declaring that she is the one engaged to "Ernest". When Jack and
Algernon reappear, their deceptions are exposed.

Act III

Morning-Room at the Manor House, Woolton

Arriving in pursuit of her daughter, Lady Bracknell is astonished to be told that Algernon and Cecily are
engaged. The revelation of Cecily's trust fund soon dispels Lady Bracknell's initial doubts over the young
lady's suitability, but any engagement is forbidden by her guardian Jack: he will consent only if Lady
Bracknell agrees to his own union with Gwendolensomething she declines to do.

The impasse is broken by the return of Miss Prism, whom Lady Bracknell recognises as the person who,
twenty-eight years earlier, as a family nursemaid, had taken a baby boy for a walk in a perambulator (baby
carriage) and never returned. Challenged, Miss Prism explains that she had absentmindedly put the
manuscript of a novel she was writing in the perambulator, and the baby in a handbag, which she had left at
Victoria Station. Jack produces the very same handbag, showing that he is the lost baby, the elder son of
Lady Bracknell's late sister, and thus indeed Algernon's elder brother. Having acquired such respectable
relations, he is acceptable as a suitor for Gwendolen after all.
Gwendolen, though, still insists that she can only love a man named Ernest. What is her fianc's real first
name? Lady Bracknell informs Jack that, as the first-born, he would have been named after his father,
General Moncrieff. Jack examines the army lists and discovers that his father's nameand hence his own
real namewas in fact Ernest. Pretence was reality all along. As the happy couples embraceJack and
Gwendolen, Algernon and Cecily, and even Dr. Chasuble and Miss PrismLady Bracknell complains to
her newfound relative: "My nephew, you seem to be displaying signs of triviality." "On the contrary, Aunt
Augusta", he replies, "I've now realised for the first time in my life the vital importance of being Earnest."

As a satire of society

The play repeatedly mocks Victorian traditions and social customs, marriage and the pursuit of love in
particular.[64] In Victorian times earnestness was considered to be the over-riding societal value, originating
in religious attempts to reform the lower classes, it spread to the upper ones too throughout the century.[65]
The play's very title, with its mocking paradox (serious people are so because they do not see trivial
comedies), introduces the theme, it continues in the drawing room discussion, "Yes, but you must be serious
about it. I hate people who are not serious about meals. It is so shallow of them," says Algernon in Act 1;
allusions are quick and from multiple angles.[63]

Gwendolen and Cecily discover that they are both engaged to "Ernest"

Wilde managed both to engage with and to mock the genre, while providing social commentary and offering
reform.[66] The men follow traditional matrimonial rites, whereby suitors admit their weaknesses to their
prospective brides, but the foibles they excuse are ridiculous, and the farce is built on an absurd confusion of
a book and a baby.[67] When Jack apologises to Gwendolen during his marriage proposal it is for not being
wicked:[68]

JACK: Gwendolen, it is a terrible thing for a man to find out suddenly that all his life he has been speaking
nothing but the truth. Can you forgive me?

GWENDOLEN: I can. For I feel that you are sure to change.

In turn, both Gwendolen and Cecily have the ideal of marrying a man named Ernest, a popular and respected
name at the time. Gwendolen, quite unlike her mother's methodical analysis of John Worthing's suitability as
a husband, places her entire faith in a Christian name, declaring in Act I, "The only really safe name is
Ernest".[69] This is an opinion shared by Cecily in Act II, "I pity any poor married woman whose husband is
not called Ernest"[70] and they indignantly declare that they have been deceived when they find out the men's
real names.

Wilde embodied society's rules and rituals artfully into Lady Bracknell: minute attention to the details of her
style created a comic effect of assertion by restraint.[71] In contrast to her encyclopaedic knowledge of the
social distinctions of London's street names, Jack's obscure parentage is subtly evoked. He defends himself
against her "A handbag?" with the clarification, "The Brighton Line". At the time, Victoria Station consisted
of two separate but adjacent terminal stations sharing the same name. To the east was the ramshackle LC&D
Railway, on the west the up-market LB&SCRthe Brighton Line, which went to Worthing, the fashionable,
expensive town the gentleman who found baby Jack was travelling to at the time (and after which Jack was
named).[72]