Coleridge and the Luminous Gloom: An Analysis of the "Symbolical Language" in The Rime of the Ancient Mariner Elliott

B. Gose, Jr. Speaking of the "plan of the 'Lyrical Ballads' " in chapter 14 of his Biographia Literaria, Coleridge pointed out that while Wordsworth was to deal with "the wonders of the world before us," he himself was to try to connect the human truth of "our inward nature" with the "shadows of imagination." The fruitfulness of this connection is e idenced by The Ancient Mariner! its aesthetic basis was analy"ed by Coleridge at a later date# "The romantic poetry," he decided, appeals "to the imagination rather than to the senses and to the reason as contemplating our inward nature, the wor ing o! the passions in their most retired recesses." $y "e"citing our internal emotions," the poet "ac#uires the right and pri$ilege o! using time and space as they e"ist in the imagination, o%edient only to the laws which the imagination acts %y." %hilosophically, Coleridge&s transcendentalism is ob iously responsible for this assertion of the superiority of the mind o er nature! he had remarked its psychological basis as early as 1'()# *n looking at ob+ects of ,ature while * am thinking, as at yonder moon dim-glimmering through the dewy window-pane, * seem rather to be seeking, as it were asking for, a symbolical language, for something within me that already and for e er e.ists, than obser ing anything new. / en when that latter is the case, yet still * ha e always an obscure feeling as if that new phenomenon &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& 0rom 'MLA 1), no. 2 3 4une 156(7. 8 156( by the 9odern :anguage ;ssociation of ;merica. ()( were the dim awakening of a forgotten or hidden truth of my inner nature. 3Anima 'oetae7 *n iew of statements such as these, the critic is +ustified in asking whether The Ancient Mariner does not employ a language more figurati e than literal to tell of e ents more inward than outward. I *n recent years there ha e been se eral attempts to e.plain the symbolism in The Ancient Mariner. The two most important published interpretations are <obert %enn Warren&s wellknown 1546 essay and =eorge >erbert Clarke &s lesser-known and less ambitious "*ertain +ym%ols in The ,ime o! the Ancient Mariner" - .ueen's .uarterly, /e%ruary 01227. ;s Warren sees it, the poem has two themes, first "the theme o! sacramental $ision or the theme o! the '3ne Li!e' " and second "the theme o! the imagination." The first centers on the killing of the albatross.

*n the second, "the moonlight e#uates with the 'modi!ying colours o! the imagination,' " while the sun "is the light o! that 'mere re!lecti$e !aculty' that 'partoo o! 4eath' "5 "in the poem the good e$ents ta e place under the aegis o! the moon, the %ad e$ents under that o! the sun." Clarke&s approach is similar to Warren&s, though simpler and different in emphasis. ;s he sees it, "the +un -with the 'olar +pirit and the !irst 6oice7 is concei$ed in *oleridge's imagination as suggesting the stern, 8ust, masculine, puniti$e side o! the nature o! God5 and ... the Moon -with the 9ermit and the +econd 6oice7 normally sym%oli:es the gentle, !eminine redempti$e side," ;s the word "normally" suggests, any thorough treatment of these symbols must account for their ambi alence in a more comprehensi e way than either Clarke or Warren do. ;ccording to Warren&s interpretation, the oyage taken by the 9ariner is a mental +ourney from con entional daytime thoughts to the land of imagination. 0aced with this "land o! ice, and o! !ear!ul sounds where no li$ing thing was to %e seen" -=loss7, the crew is terrified. $ut their fear is abated and the ice splits before them after the appearance of the ;lbatross! "as i! it had %een a *hristian soul, we hailed it in God's name." $ecause they accept it on these terms, the 9ariner is wrong to kill it, as are his fellows to +udge the act solely by its alue to them. Their crime is at once slighter and more mundane than the 9ariner&s! therefore, they suffer death at the %acific e?uator, while he undergoes the harsher punishment of life (;( in death. This situation is what Warren refers to when he talks of the theme of "sacramental ision or . . . the &@ne :ife,& " presumably taking the last phrase from "The Eolian 9arp" which speaks of "the one :ife within us and abroad" 31. A67. $ut this pantheistic belief becomes sacramental only when =od is brought in, and Warren does bring >im in with his claim that the 9ariner commits the original sin when he kills the bird. * would support Warren&s interpretation, citing St. ;ugustine&s definition of original sin# "The soul abandons >im to whom it ought to clea e as its end, and becomes a kind of end to itself." The 9ariner&s act is as much an attempt to negate =od&s principles as to set up his own, but the results of that act demonstrate his inability to function once he separates himself from =od. 0or such a crime it is fitting punishment that the 9ariner is left alone, surrounded by the soulless bodies of his friends, reminders of what he had repudiated in killing the ;lbatross. So far we ha e followed Warren&s hypothesis that in killing the ;lbatross the 9ariner separates himself from a Christian =odBand certainly the poem is filled with Christian trappings. *t begins with a church wedding and ends with an admonition to pray in church. *n between we ha e mention of Christ, 9ary Cueen, >ea en, Spirits blest, >im who died on the cross, penance, Dear :ord in >ea en, a holy hermit, and shrie ing. 0inally, Coleridge indicates that the ;lbatross is important to the theme of the poem because it symboli"es a Christian soul. ;nd along with these Christian concepts and figures, we find a symbolic identification of =od with the sun# ",or dim nor red, like =od&s own head, E The glorious Sun uprist." *ronically, Warren&s emphasis on Christianity leads away from his interpretation of the sun as symbolic of the "mere reflecti e faculty" and to a broader application of Clarke&s connection of the sun and =od. This connection has a long and honorable history in Western culture, including %lato, %lotinus, and ;ugustine, to mention only three of the earliest and most rele ant writers. The ?ualities of the sun which Coleridge used in making it a symbol for =od are discussed in the ne.t two sections.

II The most important scene in the poem is the blessing scene at the end of part 4. ;lthough it has been mentioned by most critics, only 4ohn :i ingston :owes has analy"ed it minutely. ;nd whereas he was interested in the sources of its images and how they were combined, we shall be interested in their meaning. The moon appears to dominate the scene. -5>er beams bemocked the sultry main, :ike ;pril hoar-frost spread# $ut where the ship&s huge shadow lay, The charmed water burnt alway ; still and awful red. $eyond the shadow of the ship, * watched the water-snakes! They mo ed in tracks of shining white, ;nd when they reared, the elfish light 0ell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship * watched their rich attire# $lue, glossy green, and el et black, They coiled and swam! and e ery track Was a flash of golden fire. @ happy li ing thingsF no tongue Their beauty might declare# ; spring of lo e gushed from my heart, ;nd * blessed them unaware# Sure my kind saint took pity on me, ;nd * blessed them unaware. The beams of the moon are "like ;pril hoar(!rost," white and cold coming together as they did at the end of part 1 when the moon first appeared and when the gloss spoke of "snow-fog." These ?ualities are transferred to the water snakes in the ne.t stan"a# "shining white" and "hoary flakes." /?ually important, howe er, is a contrast in these stan"as. The moonbeams moc "the sultry main" away from the ship, "But where the ship&s huge shadow lay, the charmed water %urnt alway a still and awful red." This contrast between the white, cold light of the moon, and the red, burning color in the shade is emphasi"ed by a deliberate further contrast in the ne.t two stan"as. The one connecting the water-snakes with white and hoary begins "Beyond the shadow of the ship. " The ne.t one begins " <ithin the shadow of the ship," and gi es an entirely different description of the snakes# Their "e ery track was a !lash o! golden !ire." ;nd it is following this sight that the mariner is able to bless them. >is con ersion then does not take place because of the light cast on the snakes by the moonBcom

-1(ments by Warren, Clarke, and a host of other critics to the contrary notwithstanding. <ather, the snakes are transformed by the red fiery light of the shadowed water. The importance of temperature becomes e ident when we remember that the 9ariner had earlier been put under the control of the ",ight-mare life-in-death ... E Who thicks men&s blood with cold," after which "fear at my heart, as at a cup, 9y life-blood seemed to sip." ;nd later, * looked to hea en, and tried to pray! $ut or e er a prayer had gusht, ; wicked whisper came, and made 9y heart as dry as dust. This state changes when "; spring of lo e gushed from my heart E ;nd * blessed them unaware." :o e warms the blood and is thus the immediate means of his spiritual rebirth. :o e and warmth ha e an important source outside the 9ariner. We are told that he is allowed to bless the snakes by his "kind saint," =od&s emissary. <emembering that =od is symboli"ed in the poem by the sun, we can not only connect the saint with >im but also relate the "golden fire" with the sun, and appreciate both the imagistic and dialectic impact of the 9ariner&s con ersion. The analogy of =od&s lo e affecting man as the sun&s warmth affects nature was well established in Coleridge&s mind, as is clear from the ending of ",eligious Musings" 3 1154-567# *n ministeries of heart-stirring song, ;nd aye on 9editation&s hea en-ward wing Soaring aloft * breathe in empyreal air @f :o e, omnific, omnipresent :o e, Whose day-spring rises glorious in my soul ;s the great Sun, when he his influence Sheds on the frost-bound watersBThe glad stream 0lows to the ray and warbles as it flows ;nother way of phrasing the analogy in these lines is, Sun is to glad stream freed of cold as :o e is to glad self freed of doubt. The passage is e.pressi e of that +oy which was so important to Coleridge 3as we find in "4e8ection= An 3de"7 and which is hinted at in the "April hoar-frost" dissipated at the end of part 4 to be replaced by the +oyful dream which begins part ). -11III $ut ha ing established =od the Sun as the source of life and lo e and +oy, we ha e still not e.hausted its symbolic import. *n addition to its heat, the sun has color! it is "bloody" at the %acific e?uator and afterward the shaded water is an "awful red." The same color is present when the 9ariner returns to land, a scene ery similar in imagery to the blessing scene.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, That stands abo e the rock# The moonlight steeped in silentness The steady weathercock. ;nd the bay was white with silent light, Till rising from the same, 0ull many shapes, that shadows were, *n crimson colours came. ; little distance from the prow Those crimson shadows were# * turned my eyes upon the deckB @h, ChristF what saw * thereF /ach corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, ;nd, by the holy roodF ; man all light, a seraph man, @n e ery corse there stood. *n the original ersion of the poem 3in the Lyrical Ballads7 Coleridge included four stan"as immediately preceding these and emphasi"ing "dark-red shadows. " 3The moonlight bay was white all o&er, Til rising from the same, 0ull many shapes that shadows were, :ike as of torches came. ; little distance from the prow Those dark-red shadows were! $ut soon * saw that my own flesh Was red as in a glare. -1A* turn&d my head in fear and dread, ;nd by the holy rood, The bodies had ad anc&d, and now $efore the mast they stood. They lifted up their stiff right arms, They held them strait and tight! ;nd each right-arm burnt like a torch, ; torch that&s borne upright. Their stony eye-balls glitter&d on *n the red and smoky light.7

4ust as in the moonlit scene at the end of part 4 the 9ariner was about to reestablish harmony with =od, so in this moonlit scene halfway through part 6 he is about to reestablish harmony with society, but both important changes are preceded by a ision of red in the shadow out of the moonlight. The importance of red imagistically in the poem indicates a philosophic importance which Coleridge later e.pressed in prose# "The interpenetration of :ight and Shade in the highest unity, or the identity of :ight and Shadow is </D, colour GpreeminentlyH in positi e energy." The positi e energy of the blood helps e.plain why Coleridge emphasi"es it in describing the mariner&s con ersion. <ed is also the color of the sun when it appears at the %acific e?uator as "the bloody sun" of the 3ld Testament =od of wrath demanding retribution for the 9ariner&s crime. $ut in the >ew Testament, blood is important as the sacrifice Christ made to sa e man from original sin and bring him back into =od&s grace. *n this way Christ as the embodiment of the eternal in the temporal represents the penetration of the light in the dark. 3"* am come a light into the world, that whosoe er belie eth on me should not abide in darkness" G4ohn 1A. 46H.7 Similarly, the ;ncient 9ariner is sa ed by the immersion of =od&s light in the shades of this world, which e.plains why the sun is not physically present in either of the moonlit scenes discussed, though it does figure in the imagery of both. *n the blessing scene we are told that the "water %urnt" and the snakes& "e ery track was a flash of golden !ire." ;nd in the harbor scene, as the discarded lines make clear, the spirits are on fire# "each right-arm burnt like a torch." These spirits, of course, are the angelic troop pre iously connected with =od the Sun. * would emphasi"e, howe er, that before the 9ariner sees the spirits, he is made aware of their presence in a situation analogous to that in the earlier blessing scene# "; little distance from the prow those crimson shad -12ows were." *n both these key transition scenes, then, the 9ariner becomes aware of the di ine by seeing it in the shadows of this world, "the interpenetration of :ight and Shade," and in both cases that interpenetration results in "the highest unity, or the identity of :ight and Shadow ... </D." What we ha e is not the result of any absolute logic or metaphysic! it represents simply the imagistic dialectic of Coleridge&s mind. $ut the process of in esting images with meaning was one which he felt was characteristic of all minds, as shown by his assertion in the Biographia Literaria that "an *D/;, in the highest sense of that word, cannot be con eyed but by a symbol." The source of the symbolic alue of the particular image we are concerned with can be inferred from a phrase in Coleridge&s >ote%oo >um%er /i$e 3dated 2-1 ,o ember 1155 by Iathleen Coburn in her edition of the notebooks7# "The sunny mist, the luminous gloom of %latoB" $esides being a concentrated image for the penetration of the light in the dark which we ha e found in two key scenes in The Ancient Mariner, "the luminous gloom" also has an important connection with *oleridge's philosophic de$elopment. The year %e!ore he %egan writing The Ancient Mariner, he !inished a more o$ertly philosophic poem, " The 4estiny o! >ations," - 0)1?7= /or what is /reedom, %ut the un!ettered use 3! all the powers which God !or use had gi$en= But chie!ly this with holiest ha%itude

-l. 0@7 3! constant /aith, him /irst, him Last to $iew -0. 0@a7 Through meaner powers and secondary things E!!ulgent, as through clouds that $eil his %la:e. /or all that meets the %odily sense A deem +ym%olical, one mighty alpha%et /or in!ant minds5 and we in this low world 'laced with our %ac s to %right ,eality, That we may learn with young unwounded en Things !rom their shadows. Bnow thysel! my soulC The indi$idual sees God %y loo ing at the shadow, an analogy that %ears a close resem%lance to 'lato's myth o! the ca$e, which *oleridge e$idently had in mind when he attri%uted "the luminous gloom" to 'lato.But where 'lato scorns the shadows which constitute our world o! the senses, calling them in!erior copies o! the ideal, *oleridge tells us "all that meets the %odily sense A deem D +ym%olical, one mighty alpha%et" %y which to see God. (0E( The real affinity of Coleridge&s images, then, is with later %latonic thought. This is especially true of "thy sunny mist" which appears in the foregoing passage as =od the life-gi ing sun Whom it is better to see "Through meaner powers and secondary things E /ffulgent as through clouds that eil his bla"e." The sun does not appear south of the e?uator, in the land of ice and snow, until the first stan"a of part A, at which point the ship has left the known ;tlantic and entered the unknown %acific. "The Sun now rose upon the right," and is "hid in mist," causing the crew to chide the 9ariner. Soon, howe er, it rises ",or dim, nor red, like =od&s own head," and they praise his deed. $ut according to Coleridge in " The 4estiny o! >ations," the proper way to see =od is through mists "that eil his bla"e." Seeing him directly is a foretaste of the engeance which soon comes# ";ll in a hot and copper sky E The bloody sun at noon E <ight up abo e the mast did stand." $ut awful as is =od&s engeance, the e.cess of his presence, e en worse comes with the appearance of the Spectre ship which cuts the mariners off from the sun. That strange ship dro e suddenly $etwi.t us and the Sun. ;nd straight the Sun was flecked with bars, 3>ea en&s 9other send us graceF7 ;s if through a dungeon grate he peered With broad and burning face.

0urther, the sun is forced to set after the spectre woman wins the dice game. =od, the source of life, punishment, and redemption, is replaced by another force, not +ust black death 3which is a negation of =od&s light7, but the ,ightmare life-in-death who wins the 9ariner. She is ob iously outside the Christian hierarchy and is connected with a whole strand of non-Christian figures, incidents, and images in the poem. The %olar region, for instance, is presided o er by the %olar Spirit, which is of a different order from the angelic spirits, being specifically labelled as outside the Christian framework by the gloss# "; spirit had followed them! one of the in isible inhabitants of this planet, neither departed souls nor angels! concerning whom the learned 4ew, 4osephus, and the %latonic Constantinopolitan, 9ichael %sellus may be consulted. They are ery numerous, and there is no climate or element without one or more." Where the sun is connected with man&s immortal soul, the moon is -1)connected with the one life or mutable nature, as is clear from two stan"as at the beginning of part 6. Still as a sla e before his lord, The ocean hath no blast! >is great bright eye most silently Jp to the 9oon is castB *f he may know which way to go! 0or she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, seeF how graciously She looketh down on him. Smooth or grim. ;s Warren has pointed out, the storm in part 1 is connected with the moon, as is that in part ). $ut in addition to the storms, the moon has a grim persona, which appears in part 2, the grimmest section of the poem. The death ship, we ha e seen, cuts the mariners off from =od, +ust as utter darkness negates the sun. *f dark death takes the mariners from sun-life, what function is filled by the ",ight-mare life-in-death"K "9er lips were red, her looks were free, her locks were yellow as gold# her skin was white as leprosy, . . . she ... thicks men&s blood with cold." That she is the alter ego of the moon is indicated by the white cold connected with her. The engeance of the moon is to put the 9ariner into a state in which he is incapable of lo e. *n fact nature becomes to him what it is to "the poor, lo$eless e er-an.ious crowd" in "4e8ection= An 3de"Ban "inanimate, cold world." *n his re iew of The Mon 3 *ritical ,e$iew, /e%. 0)1)7, *oleridge praises "the tale o! the %leeding nun" as "truly terri!ic," and calls "the character o! Matilda ... the author's masterpiece. At is, indeed, e"#uisitely imagined, and as e"#uisitely supported." Loo ing !orward to the >ight mare li!e(in(death and to Geraldine, we can understand *oleridge's appreciation o! Lewis' two demon women. The in!luence o! the %leeding nun on the "+pectre(<oman" in The Ancient Mariner is especially worth remar ing. ,ather than de$elop the parallel in detail, howe$er, A would li e to emphasi:e the image Lewis has his narrator use when he descri%es the nun lea$ing

him. "The charm now ceased to operate5 the %lood which had %een !ro:en in my $eins rushed %ac to my heart with $iolence5 A uttered a deep groan, and sun li!eless upon my pillow." That Lewis' !re#uent connection o! cold with the demonic struc *oleridge as appropriate is indicated %y his singling out the scene in which "%lue !ires . . . increase the cold o! the ca$ern." (0?( Coleridge also appro es :ewis& use of "the burning cross on the forehead of the Wandering 4ew." $ut despite the undoubted influence of The Mon on Coleridge, his ob+ections to it should be recorded, especially since they neatly distinguish it from real literature. The following is ob iously a ariation on the theme which Coleridge later de eloped to +ustify his supernatural poems# The romance-writer possesses an unlimited power o er situations! but he must scrupulously make his characters act in congruity with them.... The e.tent of the powers that may e.ist, we can ne er ascertain! and therefore we feel no great difficulty in yielding a temporary belief to any, the strangest, situation of things. $ut that situation once concei ed, how beings like oursel es would feel and act in it, our own feelings sufficiently instruct us! and we instantly re+ect the clumsy fiction that does not harmonise with them. When on the return oyage the ship again reaches the ;tlantic e?uator, it is stopped. The gloss tells us that "the %olar Spirit&s fellow-daemons, the in isible inhabitants of the element, take part in his wrong! and two of them relate, one to the other, that penance long and hea y for the ;ncient 9ariner hath been accorded to the %olar Spirit, who returneth southward." *n other words, though =od has been satisfied by the 9ariner&s blessing of the water snakes, the representati es of this world demand additional penance. We ha e already noted that in part 4 the light of the moon makes an important contrast to the luminous dark with which the 9ariner&s con ersion is associated. The imagery at the end of the poem brings in the moonlight again, indicating that the compulsion the 9ariner feels to tell his tale is associated with the moon. *n the ne.t to last stan"a we are told, "The 9ariner, whose eye is %right, whose beard with age is hoar, is gone." ;s Clarke has pointed out, the 9ariner&s eye connects him with the crew who curse him with their eyes by "the star-dogged moon." We may also remember two stan"as already ?uoted in which the ocean&s "great bright eye most silently E Jp to the 9oon is cast. " The 9ariner&s life-long penance is ha ing to act like a "grey-beard loon." Let his listeners "cannot choose but hear," a tribute to the power of the moon and lunacy, as was clear in some lines included in the original ersion of the poem# "9arinereF thou has thy will# E 0or that, which comes out of thine eye, doth make E 9y body and soul to be still." The 9ariner had regained harmony with =od first and decisi ely in -11the blessing scene, in images which were reiterated in the harbor scene. $ut not until he mi.es with the mortals of this earth is he enabled to do bodily penance for his iolation of the one life. *n 1'(A Coleridge wrote in a letter to Sotheby, ",ature has her proper interest, and he will know

what it is who belie es and feels that e erything has a life of its own, and that we are all 3ne Li!e." The word proper indicates that by 1'(A 3as in The Ancient Mariner itself7 Coleridge&s pantheism is subordinate to his transcendentalism. 9ore simply, nature is subordinate to =od# philosophically and poetically, man&s relation to nature is sub+ect to time, whereas the relation of his soul to =od is timeless. The absolute nature of this second relation means it can be fi.ed once and for all, as * feel it is in the blessing scene. The relati e nature of the first relation e.plains why it must be reaffirmed throughout the 9ariner&s life. $ut in truth the 9ariner tells us little of our relation to Wordsworthian nature, to wind, sea, sun, and moon. @ur premise has been that his tale deals with no literal geographical oyage. <ather it is emblematic of the <omantic urge to e.plore the eternal soul and the temporal emotions. The oyage was Coleridge&s, as it becomes the reader&s# plunged like all men into the mist and gloom of life on this planet, he sought to comprehend the lifegi ing source which called up that mist, to appreciate the luminosity which informed that gloom. The Ancient Mariner is the finest fruit of that labor. -1'-