SHADOWS IN LITERATURE.

Evening Star, Issue 18033, 29 July 1922, Page 2

SHADOWS IN LITERATURE.

We have already said in preceding articles that shadows are a fertile and far-reach-ing subject. And some indication of that may perhaps be gathered from what we have previously written. We are loth to quit the subject without a reference to the part which shadows play in literature. When one comes to consider this he is surprised to find how they have influenced writers in every department of it. We propose, therefore, to end the subject by giving some illustrations of this. For this wo shall bo indebted to some extent to two books by Francis Jacox—‘ Secular Annotations ou Scripture Texts’ and 'At Nightfall and at Midnight.’ * * » * Of the part which shadows play in the Bible we need say little. The writer living in countries scorched and scourged by tiio sun -would naturally think with gay anticipation of getting into the coolness of a shadow. So came the beautiful words of the prophet: “A man shall bo as . , . the shadow of a great'rock in a weary land.” And the similitude is carried up to the Highest. lie is sometimes spoken of as light, hut not seldom under the image of a shadow as well. 'But we need not dwell on the frequency of shadows in Scripture. When we come to literature in general the difficulty is to make selection, so all-perversive ■is the thought. Shadow-haunted and shadowhunting is a frequent thought of Marcus Aurelius. We might naturally, too, find Shakespeare fond of so fertile a theme—and so he is. And his shadows are of all sorts —grave, gay, definite, indefinite, etc. Wo have Malvolio practising behaviour to his own shadow. “ Observe him in the love of mockery.” We have Poins saying to the Mad Prince : “ I am your shadow, my lord. I’ll follow you.” Then we have Shadow (he recruit. “Do you like him, Sir John?” ashs Shadow; and the fat knight ansjvers “Shadow will serve for summer—prick- him—for we have a number of shadows to fill up the muster book.” Then we have the shadows apologised for by Theseus in mitigation of Hippolyta’s judgment on tho Pyramns and Thisbe performance. “The best of this bind are but shadows.” And Puck begins his apologetics with “if wo shadows have offended.” King Richard’s saying that shadows have struck more terror into his soul we have referred to in a previous article. Tho Prince of Arragon reads on the scroll at Belmont; Some there be that shadows kiss, Some have but a shadow’s bliss.

And that recalls a saying of Duke Ferdinand in the ‘Duchess of Haiti.' He asks Malateste “ What is that which follows me?” and the latter replies “It is only his shadow,” and the drake prays that it haunt him not. “I will throttle- it” (throwing himself on the ground). “Oh, my lord, you are angry with nothing,” says M alateste, and Ferdinand replies: “You are a fool. How is it possible I should catch my shadow unless I fall on’t.” , Shadows, like rivers, are a favorite with Dickens. Mrs Gamp, quieting her patient, is said to have presented on the wall the shadow of a gigantic night constable struggling with a prisoner.” In ‘Hard Times,’ when Tom and Louisa Gradgrind are discussing the latter’s proposed match with Bonnderby, the shadows are defined together on the wall, but those of the high presses in the room are all blended together on the walls and celling as if the brother and sister were overhung by a dark cavern. A fanciful imagination might have made it out to bo the shadow of their subject and of its lowering association with their future. » # « * To come to some other poets, we have Dryden—that shadows arc only privations of the light; yet when we walk “they approach, retire, and rise and fall—nothing themselves, and yet expressing all,” It recalls Dean Swift’s riddle on a shadow on a glass: “By something formed I nothing am ; in no place have I ever been, yet overyhero I may be seen.” Cowper is usually serious; but there is a spice of humor in these lines: With eye askance I view the muscular proportioned limb Transformed to a lean shank. The shapeless pair As they designed to mock me at my side Take step for step; and as I near approach The cottage walk along the plastercdi wall. Preposterous sight!—the legs without the man. Wordsworth’s ‘ May Morning ’ has a pretty ; picture of lambs that gambol, each with its shadow at its side, “ varying its shape wherever it may run.” So Mrs Browning, in her ‘ Romance of Margaret,’ says the lady's shadow lies on the running water and resteth never.

It sliaketh without wind, it parteth from the tide, It sfcandeth upright in the cleft moonlight, It sitteth at her side. Tennyson makes tho shadow of tlie poplar fall bodingly upon Macriana’s bed and across Ms brow. In ‘ CEnone ’ “ the lizard, with his shadow on tho stone, rests like a shadow.” In tho ‘ Miller’s Daughter ’ we see the shadow of her across tlie blind, and the long shadow of her chair flits across into,, the night; and in tho song in ‘ The Princess ’ the shadow falls on convent walls and snowy summits, old in story; and so right through almost all his poems a shadow flits, anti culminates at last in'the shadow that broke his fair companionship with Hallam, and be muses that Somewhere in the waste That shadow sits and waits for me. * * « ’ * But it is impossible to follow the shadows through literature. It is full of them. Wo must, however, refer to two writers in which they arc specially prominent. One of these is Nathaniel Hawthorne. Ho is the very man to deal with such a weird, suggestive subject as shadows. And so ho does. We have space for only two references. In the ‘Blythe dale Romance ’ the author pelts his own shadow with pebbles when he sees it in tho departing sunshine with its head upon tho sea. He daps his hands in triumph, and sees Ids shadow dapping its unreal hands arid claiming the triumph for itself. “What a simpleton must I have been all day, since my own shadow makes a mock of ray fooleries.” Of bourse, it is in ‘ Transformation ’—that profoundest of studies of innocence and guilt—as everybody knows who has read it, that the shadow is treated most fully. One might spend a whole article on it alone, and then do little more than skim the surface.

“Three shadows,” cries, Miriam as they lean over the stone brim of the Fountain of Trevi —“three separate shadows, all so black and heavy that they sink in tlho water. There they lie on the bottom as if all three were drowned together.” One of them is her own; the other is Donatello's; the third puzzles her and pains her. She took up some of the water in her hand, and dashing it in tho face of this mysterious one said:’“ln the name of all the saints, vanish, demon, and let me be free of yon now and for over.” “It will not suffice,” said one of the mirthful party, “ unless the Fountain of Trevi gushes with holy water.” And it was true. The. shadow haunted Miriam all through. It creeps and creeps and looks over over the shoulder of her sunshine. What its significance is we cannot now discuss. It is a problem closely akin to that of Shakespeare’s Gloster. « « «• •» Tho other great writer who is specially fond of shadows is Carlyle. In ‘Sartor Resaxtus ’ the pilgrim can find no healing, resort to what place he might. Strange countries, savage deserts, the crowds of civilisation, it was ever the same, for how could “your wanderer escape from his own shadow ” ? So as we stand in the Palace Gallery of Versailles, and watch with the author tho long procession there: “Figures? Men? They are fast-fleeting shadows, fast chasing each other. It is not a palace, but a caravanserai.” It is said that it was shadows that suggested the drawing of a picture. And there is a story of an old monk who for forty years had exhibited the picture of tho ‘ Last Supper,’ saying that lie had seen such procession pass away; that he himself and those he spoke to were the shadows, whilo the picture was the abiding reality. But to return to Carlyle. The shadows and shadowhaunted personages figure largely in 1 Frederick tho Great.’ A whole chapter is devoted to a Kaiser hunting shadows. “ There was another vast shadow, or confused high piled continent of shadows, to which our poor Kaiser held with his customary tenacity.” “ Shadow of Pragmatic Sanction, shadow of the Spanish Crown.” Another of the Kaiser’s shadows l was tho Oston-d East India Company. “This was the third grand shadow which tho Kaiser chased, shaking all the world—poor crank world—as bo strode after it.” Many chapters later he recurs to the Kaiser in his shadow hunt coursing the Pragmatic Sanction. And so a chapter begins with tho mixed metaphor: Kaiser “ shadow hunt has caught fire by contact with inflammable Poland.” Having burnt his lingers there, he returns to the shadow hunt of tho Pragmatic Sanction. And so wo sea him steadily go down, getting into Turkish wars “ with as little preparation for war or fact as a lifelong hunt of shadows presupposes.” Tho whole study of shadow hunts might be commended to the Kaiser prisoner in Holland to-day. « # * • A little parable of Laura Richards will fitly end our studies of shadows. We condense it somewhat. An angel heard a j child cry one day. It was looking at its | own shadow which lay on the ground i before it, and was weeping bitterly. The ■ angel asked: “What ails you, little one?” i “ The world is all so dark,” said tho child; “there is no beauty in it. Why ’must I stay in this grey place?” Then the angel asks if the child hears the birds singing and the children at play. “Yes, ! I hear them, but I do not know' where | they are. I can’t see them. I see only 1 the shadow. Moreover, if they saw it i they would, weep, too.” The angel lifted the child and set it on its feet with its

face to 4'lio sun. “ Look !” The child brushed away its tears, saw fields all green and gold, shining with adewdrops, and children playing, laughing, crowning one another with blossoms. “ Why, there arc the children,” said the little one. “Yes,” said tho angel, “there they arc.” “And tho sun is shining,” cried the child. “Yes,” said the angel, “it was shining all tho time.” “And the shadow is gone!” “Oh, no,” said the angel, “the shadow is behind you, where it belongs. Hun now and gather flowers for the littlest one who sits on the grass there.” “I am half sick of shadows,” said the Lady of Shalott. Perhaps our readers, if wo have any, may lie saying the same. Well, let us remember that that poem marks a turning point in tho development of Tennyson. Ho had been toying with life, amusing himself with shadows, But now has come {■lie end. He turns to the realities of life, and, leaving the shadows behind, fares forth “to fresh woods and pastures now.” And if we are haunted by shadows wc will do well to follow his example.