The Synchronicity of Pen and Life
At first, there would appear to be little in common between a poem that attempts to
persuade a mistress and one that commemorates an anniversary. Indeed, there are few
sentiments that "The Anniversary" and "To His Coy Mistress" share. Yet, these are love
poems and there must be some common ground that unites them on some plane. There is, of
course, such a common point of reference and it lies in the attitudes towards time that
we find expressed in these poems.
Marvell's conception of time is ever changing in "To His Coy Mistress," but this is only
to be expected in a poem that seeks to convince by constructing an ideal and proceeding
to demonstrate its utopian nature. In the world of would and should that we are immersed
in before the pivotal "But" in the second stanza, Marvell presents an idyllic view of
lovers engaged in a slow waltz that stretches on for centuries. In this snail-paced
ritual Marvell feels he can do justice to his mistress, who "deserve this state." Things
become a little more complex in the next line, "nor would I love at lower rate." This is
where we begin a question what has up till now progressed so smoothly, as all good
fantasies must if they are to be successful. We begin to question this world of
Marvell's creation and see the enigma that lies within the term "lower rate." We have
been hearing of an agonizingly slow mating ritual, Marvell has been patiently dancing
around his mistress, praising her every aspect with a devotion that approaches what one
would offer to the divine. How, we ask, can he slow down to a "lower rate?"
This is not the only striking aspect of the first stanza. We know that Marvell is
speaking of a state we are unfamiliar with and in its unfamiliarity lies the force of his
argument. The unfamiliar weaves in and out of our notion of the familiar as we seek to
understand Marvell's position. We know, on one cognitive level, that in this state an
aeon is insignificant, yet we lay on it the import we would ascribe to an aeon in the
human sense. For the beings Marvell speaks of, ages pass by as minutes; indeed we
acknowledge that they must, or else why would one devote "An hundred years" to "praise
thine eyes." Though Marvell suggests that centuries could be spent admiring every aspect
of his mistress, we cannot imagine such prolonged ritual unless centuries mean less than
what they do to us, as indeed they must be beings who love for millennia. It is
necessary, if one is to be convinced by this argument, to occupy two positions
simultaneously. The first is the acceptance of Marvell's illusion, of a state where one
can spend aeons in a single activity, and yet it is essential to evaluate this period of
time in human terms. If we waver too much in either direction, Marvell's persuasion
would fail.
It is a testament to Marvell's skill that even when he breaks the spell, we continue to
live in his illusionary time. We have been maintaining a delicate balance between two
realities, two conceptions of time. Marvell makes us walk a tightrope between them and
we comply. The fascinating thing is that even when he finds it necessary to destroy the
illusion he has created, bring us back to the ground as it was, he does it in such a way
that we do not sense it. Marvell lifts us gently from our precarious position on the
tightrope we have been pacing on, the bridge between realities and gently places us on
the ground. In this manner the beginning of his lament at the fleeting nature of time
does not jar us as it wakes us from our daydream in the land of the eternal.
We find Marvell now occupying the role of a pharmacist. He has become one who is aware
of his mortality and of the advance of time. Time now becomes an enemy to be feared, an
enemy who is closing down on us, and the eternity that he earlier facilitated the
requisite offering to his mistress now becomes a vast desert. It is ironic that to
understand 'deserts of vast eternity' we call upon that very conception of the monotonous
which we have failed to apply where it would be most apt. It would seem that a lover,
any lover, would tire of spending "two hundred" years "to adore each breast." The same
would be expected of a woman subjected to such unending praise, a long-song that keeps
repeating itself will soon wear out both singer and listener. Yet we do not stop to
reflect on this alternate view while reading the first stanza. Rather, we are not
permitted to reflect on this aspect since the poem keeps ushering us along, presenting
one image after another in mind-numbing succession. Though Marvell is ostensibly
describing something that is drawn out in time, for the reader it proceeds at a pace that
does not allow for reflection. As one fantastic claim follows another, we cannot stop to
think where they are leading to. We are trapped in Marvell's reality like Alice is
trapped in Lewis Carroll's. When released from this fantastic world, it is only to enter
a second where the doubts we should have had in the first stanza's reality are utilized
to build another perspective. The release is only a temporary respite before we enter
another mental cage, at once invisible and confining, of Marvell's making.
This might explain part of the effectiveness of "To His Coy Mistress" as a persuasive
tract. If Marvell is so adept at guiding us through his train of thought, it is only to
be expected that we are convinced of his argument. This is not because we feel his
thoughts are in reality ours, that we have prophesied each shift and statement, but
because we are grateful to Marvell for having shared them. In traveling along with
Marvell on his rhetorical journey, we develop an affinity for him and his concerns. We
become Marvell's sympathizers.
Donn's "The Anniversary" appears to proceed in a direction almost exactly opposite to
the progression we have traced into "His Coy Mistress". Ostensibly this is a poem that
first suggests the ephemeral nature of all things that "to their destruction draw" and
then counters it with a resounding proclamation attesting to the immortality of the
poet's love. This can, of course, be easily explained away by calling on the purpose of
the poem, the need to reaffirm love. If Donne is looking forward, at the first
anniversary, to many years of union, it would seem natural to call upon us to imagine an
endless love since this would be an articulation of his own hopes.
Yet as we might expect, Donne can only express a sense of eternity by contrasting it
with what is fleeting. Thus, we hear of a love that "hath no decay" only after we
realize that "All other things, to their destruction draw." In the movement from an
impression of the ephemeral nature of all things to a claim of immortality lies the clue
we need to understand a love that is always fresh. This method of setting up a dichotomy
is employed once again in the second stanza where a contract is drawn between the mortal
body that must decay, and the immortal soul that shall continue to love.
Yet we must look at the first stanza with some reserve, since it does appear a little
convoluted. Donne suggests that all things have aged by a year. He is marking time by
the passing of the sun and that of every other thing. It seems clear that time
progresses only with change, and part of change is death. Witness, however, Donne's
claim that his love does not change, is everlasting. This is not the everlasting day of
the North and South poles, but a day where the sun does not wax and wane at all. It is
interesting that Marvell finds it necessary to make his sun run since he cannot hold him
still "Thus, though we cannot make our sun stand still, yet we will make him run," while
Donne sees his sun passing him by and acknowledges this motion as inevitable and also
essential. What Donne is writing of is a time that is alien to us, as alien as Marvell's
ages. We cannot comprehend time unless it is marked by change and yet Donne places his
love outside the progression of time. In his words, "This no tomorrow hath, nor
yesterday." Here we see something trapped in time, in one latent state. Change, we not
are life and suddenly this state of motionlessness appears to be nonexistence, either
death or limbo. Now, the statement "our love hath no decay" begins to appear sinister.
We see that this is a love that does not grow like Marvell's "vegetable love." Like a
Faustian exchange, to acquire immortality -- a release from the steady march of time --
we are forced to give up all life, our existence for our love.
We are well aware that this site of non-change, non-life is not brought about by our
having achieved the highest love. In fact, Donne is quite clear that the pinnacle of
love is achieved by two souls that have been purified and condensed so that "nothing
dwells but love," Death has become a release from the monotony of an endless love that
will not let us escape, or for that matter, progress from its "first, last, everlasting
day." Death becomes welcome now, not only because it marks a transcendence to a higher,
purer love, but also since it is the only way out of this trap that once sprung will not
release us. Time, in this context, is no longer a healer because "running it never runs
from us away." We are unable to distance ourselves by letting time carry us along with
its flow. With this perpetual youth we have lost the marks and pleasure of age.
Ironically, though so much of the poem pretends to deny that his love ages, Donne's very
purpose is to commemorate his first anniversary. In this celebration--and the
acknowledgment of having reached a watershed imposed by the steady motion of
time--Donne's proposition is undermined.
In Marvell we find, once again, a purposeful rendering of death and the contract between
that which is alive and that which has lost the spark of life. Marvell chooses to
concentrate on the corporal aspect of death, the sense of decay and the decimation of the
body. This emphasis serves him well as he has primarily been concerned with the visible
beauty of his mistress. Yet in Marvell's veering away from the subject of the soul (the
dominant theme in "The Anniversary") there appears to be tacit acknowledgment of the
difference between the body and the soul. Marvell is away that he cannot argue with
similar force if he chooses to notice the "higher faculties" in his poem.
It is to advance his argument that Marvell evaluates what are essentially abstract
concepts in material terms. This is how virginity is reduced to the literal maidenhead,
which serves to point out this cherished tissue's transitory nature. Similarly, the
grave must be spoken of in terms of embraces to contract it with the warmth of a love
shared when one is
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