Rape of the Lock
Context
Alexander Pope was born in London in 1688. As a Roman
Catholic living during a time of Protestant consolidation in England, he was
largely excluded from the university system and from political life, and
suffered certain social and economic disadvantages because of his religion as
well. He was self-taught to a great extent, and was an assiduous scholar from a
very early age. He learned several languages on his own, and his early verses
were often imitations of poets he admired. His obvious talent found encouragement
from his father, a linen-draper, as well as from literary-minded friends. At
the age of twelve, Pope contracted a form of tuberculosis that settled in his
spine, leaving him stunted and misshapen and causing him great pain for much of
his life. He never married, though he formed a number of lifelong friendships
in London’s literary circles, most notably with Jonathan Swift. Pope wrote
during what is often called the Augustan Age of English literature (indeed, it
is Pope’s career that defines the age). During this time, the nation had
recovered from the English Civil Wars and the Glorious Revolution, and the
regained sense of political stability led to a resurgence of support for the
arts. For this reason, many compared the period to the reign of Augustus in
Rome, under whom both Virgil and Horace had found support for their work. The
prevailing taste of the day was neoclassical, and 18thcentury English writers
tended to value poetry that was learned and allusive, setting less value on
originality than the Romantics would in the next century. This literature also
tended to be morally and often politically engaged, privileging satire as its
dominant mode. The Rape of the Lock is one of the most famous English-language
examples of the mock-epic. Published in its first version in 1712, when Pope
was only 23 years old, the poem served to forge his reputation as a poet and
remains his most frequently studied work. The inspiration for the poem was an
actual incident among Pope’s acquaintances in which Robert, Lord Petre, cut off
a lock of Arabella Fermor’s hair, and the young people’s families fell into
strife as a result. John Caryll, another member of this same circle of
prominent Roman Catholics, asked Pope to write a light poem that would put the
episode into a humorous perspective and reconcile the two families. The poem
was originally published in a shorter version, which Pope later revised. In
this later version he added the “machinery,” the retinue of supernaturals who
influence the action as well as the moral of the tale. After the publication of
The Rape of the Lock, Pope spent many years translating the works of Homer.
During the ten years he devoted to this arduous project, he produced very few
new poems of his own but refined his taste in literature (and his moral,
social, and political opinions) to an incredible degree. When he later
recommenced to write original poetry, Pope struck a more serious tone than the
one he gave to The Rape of the Lock. These later poems are more severe in their
moral judgments and more acid in their satire: Pope’s Essay on Man is a
philosophical poem on metaphysics, ethics, and human nature, while in the
Dunciad Pope writes a scathing exposé of the bad writers and
pseudo-intellectuals of his day
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Rape of the Lock
Characters
Belinda - Belinda is based on the historical Arabella
Fermor, a member of Pope’s circle of prominent Roman Catholics. Robert, Lord
Petre (the Baron in the poem) had precipitated a rift between their two
families by snipping off a lock of her hair. The Baron - This is the pseudonym
for the historical Robert, Lord Petre, the young gentleman in Pope’s social
circle who offended Arabella Fermor and her family by cutting off a lock of her
hair. In the poem’s version of events, Arabella is known as Belinda. Caryl -
The historical basis for the Caryl character is John Caryll, a friend of Pope
and of the two families that had become estranged over the incident the poem
relates. It was Caryll who suggested that Pope encourage a reconciliation by
writing a humorous poem. Goddess - The muse who, according to classical
convention, inspires poets to write their verses Shock - Belinda’s lapdog Ariel
- Belinda’s guardian sylph, who oversees an army of invisible protective
deities Umbriel - The chief gnome, who travels to the Cave of Spleen and
returns with bundles of sighs and tears to aggravate Belinda’s vexation
Brillante - The sylph who is assigned to guard Belinda’s earrings Momentilla -
The sylph who is assigned to guard Belinda’s watch Crispissa - The sylph who is
assigned to guard Belinda’s “fav’rite Lock” Clarissa - A woman in attendance at
the Hampton Court party. She lends the Baron the pair of scissors with which he
cuts Belinda’s hair, and later delivers a moralizing lecture. Thalestris -
Belinda’s friend, named for the Queen of the Amazons and representing the
historical Gertrude Morley, a friend of Pope’s and the wife of Sir George
Browne (rendered as her “beau,” Sir Plume, in the poem). She eggs Belinda on in
her anger and demands that the lock be returned. Sir Plume - Thalestris’s
“beau,” who makes an ineffectual challenge to the Baron. He represents the
historical Sir George Browne, a member of Pope’s social circle.
Summary
Belinda arises to prepare for the day’s social activities
after sleeping late. Her guardian sylph, Ariel, warned her in a dream that some
disaster will befall her, and promises to protect her to the best of his
abilities. Belinda takes little notice of this oracle, however. After an
elaborate ritual of dressing and primping, she travels on the Thames River to
Hampton Court Palace, an ancient royal residence outside of London, where a
group of wealthy young socialites are gathering for a party. Among them is the
Baron, who has already made up his mind to steal a lock of Belinda’s hair. He
has risen early to perform and elaborate set of prayers and sacrifices to
promote success in this enterprise. When the partygoers arrive at the palace,
they enjoy a tense game of cards, which Pope describes in mock-heroic terms as
a battle. This is followed by a round of coffee. Then the Baron takes up a pair
of scissors and manages, on the third try, to cut off the coveted lock of
Belinda’s hair. Belinda is furious. Umbriel, a mischievous gnome, journeys down
to the Cave of Spleen to procure a sack of sighs and a flask of tears which he
then bestows on the heroine to fan the flames of her ire. Clarissa, who
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had aided the Baron in his crime, now urges Belinda to give
up her anger in favor of good humor and good sense, moral qualities which will
outlast her vanities. But Clarissa’s moralizing falls on deaf ears, and Belinda
initiates a scuffle between the ladies and the gentlemen, in which she attempts
to recover the severed curl. The lock is lost in the confusion of this mock
battle, however; the poet consoles the bereft Belinda with the suggestion that
it has been taken up into the heavens and immortalized as a constellation.
Analysis: Themes and Form
The Rape of the Lock is a humorous indictment of the
vanities and idleness of 18th-century high society. Basing his poem on a real
incident among families of his acquaintance, Pope intended his verses to cool
hot tempers and to encourage his friends to laugh at their own folly. The poem
is perhaps the most outstanding example in the English language of the genre of
mock-epic. The epic had long been considered one of the most serious of
literary forms; it had been applied, in the classical period, to the lofty
subject matter of love and war, and, more recently, by Milton, to the intricacies
of the Christian faith. The strategy of Pope’s mock-epic is not to mock the
form itself, but to mock his society in its very failure to rise to epic
standards, exposing its pettiness by casting it against the grandeur of the
traditional epic subjects and the bravery and fortitude of epic heroes: Pope’s
mock-heroic treatment in The Rape of the Lock underscores the ridiculousness of
a society in which values have lost all proportion, and the trivial is handled
with the gravity and solemnity that ought to be accorded to truly important
issues. The society on display in this poem is one that fails to distinguish
between things that matter and things that do not. The poem mocks the men it
portrays by showing them as unworthy of a form that suited a more heroic
culture. Thus the mock-epic resembles the epic in that its central concerns are
serious and often moral, but the fact that the approach must now be satirical
rather than earnest is symptomatic of how far the culture has fallen. Pope’s
use of the mock-epic genre is intricate and exhaustive. The Rape of the Lock is
a poem in which every element of the contemporary scene conjures up some image
from epic tradition or the classical world view, and the pieces are wrought
together with a cleverness and expertise that makes the poem surprising and
delightful. Pope’s transformations are numerous, striking, and loaded with
moral implications. The great battles of epic become bouts of gambling and
flirtatious tiffs. The great, if capricious, Greek and Roman gods are converted
into a relatively undifferentiated army of basically ineffectual sprites.
Cosmetics, clothing, and jewelry substitute for armor and weapons, and the
rituals of religious sacrifice are transplanted to the dressing room and the
altar of love. The verse form of The Rape of the Lock is the heroic couplet;
Pope still reigns as the uncontested master of the form. The heroic couplet
consists of rhymed pairs of iambic pentameter lines (lines of ten syllables
each, alternating stressed and unstressed syllables). Pope’s couplets do not
fall into strict iambs, however, flowering instead with a rich rhythmic
variation that keeps the highly regular meter from becoming heavy or tedious.
Pope distributes his sentences, with their resolutely parallel grammar, across
the lines and halflines of the poem in a way that enhances the judicious
quality of his ideas. Moreover, the inherent balance of the couplet form is
strikingly well suited to a subject matter that draws on comparisons and
contrasts: the form invites configurations in which two ideas or
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circumstances are balanced, measured, or compared against
one another. It is thus perfect for the evaluative, moralizing premise of the
poem, particularly in the hands of this brilliant poet.
Canto 1
Summary
The Rape of the Lock begins with a passage outlining the
subject of the poem and invoking the aid of the muse. Then the sun (“Sol”)
appears to initiate the leisurely morning routines of a wealthy household.
Lapdogs shake themselves awake, bells begin to ring, and although it is already
noon, Belinda still sleeps. She has been dreaming, and we learn that the dream
has been sent by “her guardian Sylph,” Ariel. The dream is of a handsome youth
who tells her that she is protected by “unnumber’d Spirits”—an army of
supernatural beings who once lived on earth as human women. The youth explains
that they are the invisible guardians of women’s chastity, although the credit
is usually mistakenly given to “Honour” rather than to their divine
stewardship. Of these Spirits, one particular group—the Sylphs, who dwell in
the air—serve as Belinda’s personal guardians; they are devoted, lover-like, to
any woman that “rejects mankind,” and they understand and reward the vanities
of an elegant and frivolous lady like Belinda. Ariel, the chief of all
Belinda’s puckish protectors, warns her in this dream that “some dread event”
is going to befall her that day, though he can tell her nothing more specific
than that she should “beware of Man!” Then Belinda awakes, to the licking
tongue of her lapdog, Shock. Upon the delivery of a billet-doux, or
love-letter, she forgets all about the dream. She then proceeds to her dressing
table and goes through an elaborate ritual of dressing, in which her own image
in the mirror is described as a “heavenly image,” a “goddess.” The Sylphs,
unseen, assist their charge as she prepares herself for the day’s activities.
Commentary
The opening of the poem establishes its mock-heroic style.
Pope introduces the conventional epic subjects of love and war and includes an
invocation to the muse and a dedication to the man (the historical John Caryll)
who commissioned the poem. Yet the tone already indicates that the high
seriousness of these traditional topics has suffered a diminishment. The second
line confirms in explicit terms what the first line already suggests: the
“am’rous causes” the poem describes are not comparable to the grand love of
Greek heroes but rather represent a trivialized version of that emotion. The
“contests” Pope alludes to will prove to be “mighty” only in an ironic sense.
They are card-games and flirtatious tussles, not the great battles of epic
tradition. Belinda is not, like Helen of Troy, “the face that launched a
thousand ships” (see the SparkNote on The Iliad), but rather a face
that—although also beautiful—prompts a lot of foppish nonsense. The first two
verse-paragraphs emphasize the comic inappropriateness of the epic style (and
corresponding mind-set) to the subject at hand. Pope achieves this discrepancy
at the level of the line and half-line; the reader is meant to dwell on the
incompatibility between the two sides of his parallel formulations. Thus, in
this world, it is “little men” who in “tasks so bold... engage”; and “soft
bosoms” are the dwelling-place for “mighty rage.” In this startling
juxtaposition of the petty and the grand, the former is real while the latter
is ironic. In mock-epic, the high heroic style works not to dignify the subject
but rather to expose and ridicule it. Therefore, the basic irony of the style
supports the substance of the poem’s satire, which attacks the misguided values
of a society that takes small matters for serious ones while failing to attend
to issues of genuine importance.
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With Belinda’s dream, Pope introduces the “machinery” of the
poem—the supernatural powers that influence the action from behind the scenes.
Here, the sprites that watch over Belinda are meant to mimic the gods of the
Greek and Roman traditions, who are sometimes benevolent and sometimes malicious,
but always intimately involved in earthly events. The scheme also makes use of
other ancient hierarchies and systems of order. Ariel explains that women’s
spirits, when they die, return “to their first Elements.” Each female
personality type (these types correspond to the four humours) is converted into
a particular kind of sprite. These gnomes, sylphs, salamanders, and nymphs, in
turn, are associated with the four elements of earth, air, fire, and water. The
airy sylphs are those who in their lifetimes were “light Coquettes”; they have
a particular concern for Belinda because she is of this type, and this will be
the aspect of feminine nature with which the poem is most concerned. Indeed,
Pope already begins to sketch this character of the “coquette” in this initial
canto. He draws the portrait indirectly, through characteristics of the Sylphs
rather than of Belinda herself. Their priorities reveal that the central
concerns of womanhood, at least for women of Belinda’s class, are social ones.
Woman’s “joy in gilded Chariots” indicates an obsession with pomp and
superficial splendor, while “love of Ombre,” a fashionable card game, suggests
frivolity. The erotic charge of this social world in turn prompts another
central concern: the protection of chastity. These are women who value above
all the prospect marrying to advantage, and they have learned at an early age
how to promote themselves and manipulate their suitors without compromising
themselves. The Sylphs become an allegory for the mannered conventions that
govern female social behavior. Principles like honor and chastity have become
no more than another part of conventional interaction. Pope makes it clear that
these women are not conducting themselves on the basis of abstract moral
principles, but are governed by an elaborate social mechanism—of which the
Sylphs cut a fitting caricature. And while Pope’s technique of employing
supernatural machinery allows him to critique this situation, it also helps to
keep the satire light and to exonerate individual women from too severe a
judgment. If Belinda has all the typical female foibles, Pope wants us to
recognize that it is partly because she has been educated and trained to act in
this way. The society as a whole is as much to blame as she is. Nor are men
exempt from this judgment. The competition among the young lords for the
attention of beautiful ladies is depicted as a battle of vanity, as “wigs with
wigs, with sword-knots sword-knots strive.” Pope’s phrases here expose an
absurd attention to exhibitions of pride and ostentation. He emphasizes the
inanity of discriminating so closely between things and people that are
essentially the same in all important (and even most unimportant) respects.
Pope’s portrayal of Belinda at her dressing table introduces mock-heroic motifs
that will run through the poem. The scene of her toilette is rendered first as
a religious sacrament, in which Belinda herself is the priestess and her image
in the looking glass is the Goddess she serves. This parody of the religious
rites before a battle gives way, then, to another kind of mockepic scene, that
of the ritualized arming of the hero. Combs, pins, and cosmetics take the place
of weapons as “awful Beauty puts on all its arms.”
Canto 2
Summary
Belinda, rivaling the sun in her radiance, sets out by boat
on the river Thames for Hampton Court Palace. She is accompanied by a party of
glitzy ladies (“Nymphs”) and gentlemen, but
Rape of the Lock
is far and away the most striking member of the group.
Pope’s description of her charms includes “the sparkling Cross she wore” on her
“white breast,” her “quick” eyes and “lively looks,” and the easy grace with
which she bestows her smiles and attentions evenly among all the adoring
guests. Her crowning glories, though, are the two ringlets that dangle on her
“iv’ry neck.” These curls are described as love’s labyrinths, specifically
designed to ensnare any poor heart who might get entangled in them. One of the
young gentlemen on the boat, the Baron, particularly admires Belinda’s locks,
and has determined to steal them for himself. We read that he rose early that
morning to build an altar to love and pray for success in this project. He
sacrificed several tokens of his former affections, including garters, gloves,
and billet-doux (love-letters). He then prostrated himself before a pyre built
with “all the trophies of his former loves,” fanning its flames with his
“am’rous sighs.” The gods listened to his prayer but decided to grant only half
of it. As the pleasure-boat continues on its way, everyone is carefree except
Ariel, who remembers that some bad event has been foretold for the day. He
summons an army of sylphs, who assemble around him in their iridescent beauty.
He reminds them with great ceremony that one of their duties, after regulating
celestial bodies and the weather and guarding the British monarch, is “to tend
the Fair”: to keep watch over ladies’ powders, perfumes, curls, and clothing,
and to “assist their blushes, and inspire their airs.” Therefore, since “some
dire disaster” threatens Belinda, Ariel assigns her an extensive troop of
bodyguards. Brillante is to guard her earrings, Momentilla her watch, and
Crispissa her locks. Ariel himself will protect Shock, the lapdog. A band of
fifty Sylphs will guard the all-important petticoat. Ariel pronounces that any
sylph who neglects his assigned duty will be severely punished. They disperse
to their posts and wait for fate to unfold.
Commentary
From the first, Pope describes Belinda’s beauty as something
divine, an assessment which she herself corroborates in the first canto when
she creates, at least metaphorically, an altar to her own image. This praise is
certainly in some sense ironical, reflecting negatively on a system of public
values in which external characteristics rank higher than moral or intellectual
ones. But Pope also shows a real reverence for his heroine’s physical and
social charms, claiming in lines 17–18 that these are compelling enough to
cause one to forget her “female errors.” Certainly he has some interest in
flattering Arabella Fermor, the real-life woman on whom Belinda is based; in
order for his poem to achieve the desired reconciliation, it must not offend
(see “Context”. Pope also exhibits his appreciation for the ways in which
physical beauty is an art form: he recognizes, with a mixture of censure and
awe, the fact that Belinda’s legendary locks of hair, which appear so natural
and spontaneous, are actually a carefully contrived effect. In this, the
mysteries of the lady’s dressing table are akin, perhaps, to Pope’s own
literary art, which he describes elsewhere as “nature to advantage dress’d.” If
the secret mechanisms and techniques of female beauty get at least a passing
nod of appreciation from the author, he nevertheless suggests that the general
human readiness to worship beauty amounts to a kind of sacrilege. The cross
that Belinda wears around her neck serves a more ornamental than symbolic or
religious function. Because of this, he says, it can be adored by “Jews” and
“Infidels” as readily as by Christians. And there is some ambiguity about
whether any of the admirers are really valuing the cross itself, or the “white
breast” on
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which it lies—or the felicitous effect of the whole. The
Baron, of course, is the most significant of those who worship at the altar of
Belinda’s beauty. The ritual sacrifices he performs in the pre-dawn hours are
another mock-heroic element of the poem, mimicking the epic tradition of
sacrificing to the gods before an important battle or journey, and drapes his
project with an absurdly grand import that actually only exposes its
triviality. The fact that he discards all his other love tokens in these
preparations reveals his capriciousness as a lover. Earnest prayer, in this
parodic scene, is replaced by the self-indulgent sighs of the lover. By having
the gods grant only half of what the Baron asks, Pope alludes to the epic
convention by which the favor of the gods is only a mixed blessing: in epic
poems, to win the sponsorship of one god is to incur the wrath of another;
divine gifts, such as immortality, can seem a blessing but become a curse. Yet
in this poem, the ramifications of a prayer “half” granted are negligible
rather than tragic; it merely means that he will manage to steal just one lock rather
than both of them. In the first canto, the religious imagery surrounding
Belinda’s grooming rituals gave way to a militaristic conceit. Here, the same
pattern holds. Her curls are compared to a trap perfectly calibrated to ensnare
the enemy. Yet the character of female coyness is such that it seeks
simultaneously to attract and repel, so that the counterpart to the enticing
ringlets is the formidable petticoat. This undergarment is described as a
defensive armament comparable to the Shield of Achilles (see Scroll XVIII of
The Iliad), and supported in its function of protecting the maiden’s chastity
by the invisible might of fifty Sylphs. The Sylphs, who are Belinda’s
protectors, are essentially charged to protect her not from failure but from
too great a success in attracting men. This paradoxical situation dramatizes
the contradictory values and motives implied in the era’s sexual conventions.
In this canto, the sexual allegory of the poem begins to come into fuller view.
The title of the poem already associates the cutting of Belinda’s hair with a
more explicit sexual conquest, and here Pope cultivates that suggestion. He
multiplies his sexually metaphorical language for the incident, adding words
like “ravish” and “betray” to the “rape” of the title. He also slips in some
commentary on the implications of his society’s sexual mores, as when he
remarks that “when success a Lover’s toil attends, / few ask, if fraud or force
attain’d his ends.” When Ariel speculates about the possible forms the “dire disaster”
might take, he includes a breach of chastity (“Diana’s law”), the breaking of
china (another allusion to the loss of virginity), and the staining of honor or
a gown (the two incommensurate events could happen equally easily and
accidentally). He also mentions some pettier social “disasters” against which
the Sylphs are equally prepared to fight, like missing a ball (here, as grave
as missing prayers) or losing the lapdog. In the Sylphs’ defensive efforts,
Belinda’s petticoat is the battlefield that requires the most extensive
fortifications. This fact furthers the idea that the rape of the lock stands in
for a literal rape, or at least represents a threat to her chastity more
serious than just the mere theft of a curl.
Canto 3
Summary
The boat arrives at Hampton Court Palace, and the ladies and
gentlemen disembark to their courtly amusements. After a pleasant round of
chatting and gossip, Belinda sits down with two of the men to a game of cards.
They play ombre, a three-handed game of tricks and trumps, somewhat like
bridge, and it is described in terms of a heroic battle: the cards are
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troops combating on the “velvet plain” of the card-table.
Belinda, under the watchful care of the Sylphs, begins favorably. She declares
spades as trumps and leads with her highest cards, sure of success. Soon,
however, the hand takes a turn for the worse when “to the Baron fate inclines
the field”: he catches her king of clubs with his queen and then leads back
with his high diamonds. Belinda is in danger of being beaten, but recovers in
the last trick so as to just barely win back the amount she bid. The next
ritual amusement is the serving of coffee. The curling vapors of the steaming
coffee remind the Baron of his intention to attempt Belinda’s lock. Clarissa
draws out her scissors for his use, as a lady would arm a knight in a romance.
Taking up the scissors, he tries three times to clip the lock from behind
without Belinda seeing. The Sylphs endeavor furiously to intervene, blowing the
hair out of harm’s way and tweaking her diamond earring to make her turn
around. Ariel, in a last-minute effort, gains access to her brain, where he is
surprised to find “an earthly lover lurking at her heart.” He gives up
protecting her then; the implication is that she secretly wants to be violated.
Finally, the shears close on the curl. A daring sylph jumps in between the
blades and is cut in two; but being a supernatural creature, he is quickly
restored. The deed is done, and the Baron exults while Belinda’s screams fill
the air.
Commentary
This canto is full of classic examples of Pope’s masterful
use of the heroic couplet. In introducing Hampton Court Palace, he describes it
as the place where Queen Anne “dost sometimes counsel take—and sometimes tea.”
This line employs a zeugma, a rhetorical device in which a word or phrase
modifies two other words or phrases in a parallel construction, but modifies
each in a different way or according to a different sense. Here, the modifying
word is “take”; it applies to the paralleled terms “counsel” and “tea.” But one
does not “take” tea in the same way one takes counsel, and the effect of the
zeugma is to show the royal residence as a place that houses both serious
matters of state and frivolous social occasions. The reader is asked to
contemplate that paradox and to reflect on the relative value and importance of
these two different registers of activity. (For another example of this
rhetorical technique, see lines 157–8: “Not louder shrieks to pitying heaven
are cast, / when husbands, or when lapdogs breathe their last.”) A similar
point is made, in a less compact phrasing, in the second and third
verse-paragraphs of this canto. Here, against the gossip and chatter of the
young lords and ladies, Pope opens a window onto more serious matters that are
occurring “meanwhile” and elsewhere, including criminal trials and executions,
and economic exchange. The rendering of the card game as a battle constitutes
an amusing and deft narrative feat. By parodying the battle scenes of the great
epic poems, Pope is suggesting that the energy and passion once applied to
brave and serious purposes is now expended on such insignificant trials as
games and gambling, which often become a mere front for flirtation. The
structure of “the three attempts” by which the lock is cut is a convention of
heroic challenges, particularly in the romance genre. The romance is further
invoked in the image of Clarissa arming the Baron—not with a real weapon,
however, but with a pair of sewing scissors. Belinda is not a real adversary,
or course, and Pope makes it plain that her resistance—and, by implication, her
subsequent distress—is to some degree an affectation. The melodrama of her
screams is complemented by the ironic comparison of the Baron’s feat to the
conquest of nations.
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Canto 4
Summary
Belinda’s “anxious cares” and “secret passions” after the
loss of her lock are equal to the emotions of all who have ever known “rage,
resentment and despair.” After the disappointed Sylphs withdraw, an earthy
gnome called Umbriel flies down to the “Cave of Spleen.” (The spleen, an organ
that removes disease-causing agents from the bloodstream, was traditionally
associated with the passions, particularly malaise; “spleen” is a synonym for
“ill-temper.”) In his descent he passes through Belinda’s bedroom, where she
lies prostrate with discomfiture and the headache. She is attended by “two
handmaidens,” Ill-Nature and Affectation. Umbriel passes safely through this
melancholy chamber, holding a sprig of “spleenwort” before him as a charm. He
addresses the “Goddess of Spleen,” and returns with a bag of “sighs, sobs, and
passions” and a vial of sorrow, grief, and tears. He unleashes the first bag on
Belinda, fueling her ire and despair. There to commiserate with Belinda is her
friend Thalestris. (In Greek mythology, Thalestris is the name of one of the
Amazons, a race of warrior women who excluded men from their society.)
Thalestris delivers a speech calculated to further foment Belinda’s indignation
and urge her to avenge herself. She then goes to Sir Plume, “her beau,” to ask
him to demand that the Baron return the hair. Sir Plume makes a weak and
slang-filled speech, to which the Baron disdainfully refuses to acquiesce. At
this, Umbriel releases the contents of the remaining vial, throwing Belinda
into a fit of sorrow and self-pity. With “beauteous grief” she bemoans her
fate, regrets not having heeded the dream-warning, and laments the lonely,
pitiful state of her sole remaining curl.
Commentary
The canto opens with a list of examples of “rage,
resentment, and despair,” comparing on an equal footing the pathos of kings
imprisoned in battle, of women who become old maids, of evil-doers who die
without being saved, and of a woman whose dress is disheveled. By placing such
disparate sorts of aggravation in parallel, Pope accentuates the absolute
necessity of assigning them to some rank of moral import. The effect is to
chastise a social world that fails to make these distinctions. Umbriel’s journey
to the Cave of Spleen mimics the journeys to the underworld made by both
Odysseus and Aeneas. Pope uses psychological allegory (for the spleen was the
seat of malaise or melancholy), as a way of exploring the sources and nature of
Belinda’s feelings. The presence of Ill-nature and Affectation as handmaidens
serves to indicate that her grief is less than pure (“affected” or put-on), and
that her display of temper has hidden motives. We learn that her sorrow is
decorative in much the same way the curl was; it gives her the occasion, for
example, to wear a new nightdress. The speech of Thalestris invokes a courtly
ethic. She encourages Belinda to think about the Baron’s misdeed as an affront
to her honor, and draws on ideals of chivalry in demanding that Sir Plume
challenge the Baron in defense of Belinda’s honor. He makes a muddle of the
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task, showing how far from courtly behavior this generation
of gentlemen has fallen. Sir Plume’s speech is riddled with foppish slang and
has none of the logical, moral, or oratorical power that a knight should
properly wield. This attention to questions of honor returns us to the sexual
allegory of the poem. The real danger, Thalestris suggests, is that “the
ravisher” might display the lock and make it a source of public humiliation to
Belinda and, by association, to her friends. Thus the real question is a
superficial one—public reputation—rather than the moral imperative to chastity.
Belinda’s own words at the close of the canto corroborate this suggestion; she
exclaims, “Oh, hadst thou, cruel! been content to seize / Hairs less in sight,
or any hairs but these!” (The “hairs less in sight” suggest her pubic hair).
Pope is pointing out the degree to which she values outward appearance (whether
beauty or reputation) above all else; she would rather suffer a breach to her
integrity than a breach to her appearance.
Canto 5
The Baron remains impassive against all the ladies’ tears
and reproaches. Clarissa delivers a speech in which she questions why a society
that so adores beauty in women does not also place a value on “good sense” and
“good humour.” Women are frequently called angels, she argues, but without
reference to the moral qualities of these creatures. Especially since beauty is
necessarily so short-lived, we must have something more substantial and
permanent to fall back on. This sensible, moralizing speech falls on deaf ears,
however, and Belinda, Thalestris and the rest ignore her and proceed to launch
an all-out attack on the offending Baron. A chaotic tussle ensues, with the
gnome Umbriel presiding in a posture of self- congratulation. The gentlemen are
slain or revived according to the smiles and frowns of the fair ladies. Belinda
and the Baron meet in combat and she emerges victorious by peppering him with
snuff and drawing her bodkin. Having achieved a position of advantage, she
again demands that he return the lock. But the ringlet has been lost in the
chaos, and cannot be found. The poet avers that the lock has risen to the
heavenly spheres to become a star; stargazers may admire it now for all
eternity. In this way, the poet reasons, it will attract more envy than it ever
could on earth.
Commentary
Readers have often interpreted Clarissa’s speech as the
voice of the poet expressing the moral of the story. Certainly, her oration’s
thesis aligns with Pope’s professed task of putting the dispute between the two
families into a more reasonable perspective. But Pope’s position achieves more
complexity than Clarissa’s speech, since he has used the occasion of the poem
as a vehicle to critically address a number of broader societal issues as well.
And Clarissa’s righteous stance loses authority in light of the fact that it
was she who originally gave the Baron the scissors. Clarissa’s failure to
inspire a reconciliation proves that the quarrel is itself a kind of
flirtatious game that all parties are enjoying. The description of the “battle”
has a markedly erotic quality, as ladies and lords wallow in their
mock-agonies. Sir Plume “draw[s] Clarissa down” in a sexual way, and Belinda
“flies” on her foe with flashing eyes and an erotic ardor. When Pope informs us
that the Baron fights on unafraid because he “sought no more than on his foe to
die,” the expression means that his goal all along was sexual consummation.
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This final battle is the culmination of the long sequence of
mock-heroic military actions. Pope invokes by name the Roman gods who were most
active in warfare, and he alludes as well to the Aeneid , comparing the stoic
Baron to Aeneas (“the Trojan”), who had to leave his love to become the founder
of Rome. Belinda’s tossing of the snuff makes a perfect turning point, ideally
suited to the scale of this trivial battle. The snuff causes the Baron to
sneeze, a comic and decidedly unheroic thing for a hero to do. The bodkin, too,
serves nicely: here a bodkin is a decorative hairpin, not the weapon of ancient
days (or even of Hamlet’s time). Still, Pope gives the pin an elaborate history
in accordance with the conventions of true epic. The mock-heroic conclusion of
the poem is designed to compliment the lady it alludes to (Arabella Fermor), while
also giving the poet himself due credit for being the instrument of her
immortality. This ending effectively indulges the heroine’s vanity, even though
the poem has functioned throughout as a critique of that vanity. And no real
moral development has taken place: Belinda is asked to come to terms with her
loss through a kind of bribe or distraction that reinforces her basically
frivolous outlook. But even in its most mocking moments, this poem is a gentle
one, in which Pope shows a basic sympathy with the social world in spite of its
folly and foibles. The searing critiques of his later satires would be much
more stringent and less forgiving. 1. Discuss two mock-heroic elements of the
poem. Answer for Study Question 1 >>
2. What are some of the images that recur through the poem,
and what significance do they have? Answer for Study Question 2 >>
3. What function does the poem’s supernatural machinery
serve? 4. Is Pope being ironic when he treats Belinda’s beauty as something
almost divine? 5. To what degree can the poem be read as a sexual allegory? 6.
What are the distinctive formal features of Pope’s poetry? 7. How is the heroic
couplet suited to Pope’s subject matter, or to satire more generally? 1. Who is
Shock? (A) Belinda’s horse (B) Belinda’s lapdog (C) The Baron’s horse
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Rape of the Lock
(D) The poet’s muse
2. At what time do “sleepless lovers” awake in this poem?
(A) Dawn (B) Noon (C) Tea-time (D) Midnight
3. Who inspires Belinda’s dream in the first canto? (A) The
muse (B) The Baron (C) Ariel (D) Umbriel
4. To what are Belinda’s eyes repeatedly compared? (A) The
sun (B) Stars (C) Flames (D) Gems
5. To what do the four types of supernatural beings
correspond? (A) Spades, hearts, clubs, and diamonds (B) Ace, king, queen, and
jack (C) Earth, air, fire, and water (D) North, south, east, and west
6. What does Belinda wear around her neck? (A) A cross (B) A
locket
(C) A ribbon (D) A ruby
7. Where is the party held? (A) Cheapside (B) St. James Park
(C) The Tower of London (D) Hampton Court Palace
8. Who wins the hand of ombre? (A) Belinda (B) The Baron (C)
Ariel (D) The Queen
9. What beverage is served after the card game ends? (A) Tea
(B) Coffee (C) Wine (D) Brandy
10. Who arms the Baron with a pair of scissors? (A) Belinda
(B) Sir Plume (C) Lord Petre (D) Clarissa
11. Who gets accidentally cut by the scissors? (A) The Baron
Rape of the Lock
(B) Clarissa (C) One of the Sylphs (D) Shock
12. Whither does Umbriel journey? (A) Hades (B) The Cave of
Spleen (C) The Cave of Despair (D) The Cave of Envy
13. What does Thalestris think the Baron will do with the
lock? (A) Show it off to all their friends (B) Have it set into a ring (C)
Neither of the above (D) Both of the above
14. What effect does Sir Plume’s speech have on the Baron?
(A) It convinces him to return the lock (B) It makes him feel guilty for what
he has done (C) It encourages him to propose to Belinda (D) It has no effect
15. What happens to the lock of hair at the end of the poem?
(A) It is returned to its rightful owner (B) It is set into a ring (C) It is
offered to the poet as a token of gratitude (D) It is turned into a constel
Rape of the Lock
Johnson, Samuel. “Life of Pope” in Johnson’s Lives of the
Poets: A Selection, edited by J.P. Hardy. Oxford University Press, London,
1971. Leavis, F.R. Revaluation. Penguin Books, Harmondsworth, 1972. Mack,
Maynard. The Garden and the City. University of Toronto Press, Toronto, 1969.
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