"Ode to the West Wind"
- Summary and Analysis
Summary
The autumnal west wind sweeps along the leaves
and "wingèd seeds." The seeds will remain dormant until spring. The wind
is thus a destroyer and a preserver. The west wind also sweeps along
storm clouds. It is the death song of the year. With the night that
closes the year will come rain, lightning, and hail; there will be
storms in the Mediterranean and the Atlantic. The poet pleads with the
west wind to endow him with some of its power, for he feels depressed
and helpless. If he were possessed of some of the power of the west
wind, he would be inspired to write poetry which the world would read
and by which it would be spiritually renewed, just as the renewal which
is spring succeeds the dormancy of winter.
Analysis
Shelley appended a note to the "Ode to the West Wind" when it appeared in the Prometheus Unbound volume
in 1820: "This poem was conceived and chiefly written in a wood that
skirts the Arno, near Florence, and on a day when that tempestuous wind,
whose temperature is at once mild and animating, was collecting the
vapours which pour down the autumnal rains. They began, as I foresaw, at
sunset with a violent tempest of hail and rain, attended by that
magnificent thunder and lightning peculiar to the Cisalpine regions."
The note is interesting in that it shows that the
poem came out of a specific experience. The imagery of the poem
suggests a natural phenomenon that is observed while it is taking place.
The fact that it was written near Florence, Dante's city, may explain
why Shelley used terza nina, the stanza of Dante's Divine Comedy, but rare in English poetry, in the ode. Terza nina is
a series of triplets with interlocking rhymes, aba, bcb, cdc, etc.
Shelley modified the pattern by ending each of the five sections of the
poem with a climactic couplet. In keeping with his terza nina stanza,
he concentrates on the effects of the west wind on three classes of
objects: leaves, clouds, and water. The combination of terza nina and the threefold effect of the west wind gives the poem a pleasing structural symmetry.
In the ode, Shelley, as in "To a Skylark" and
"The Cloud," uses the poetic technique of myth, with which he had been
working on a large scale in Prometheus Unbound in 1818. The west
wind is a spirit, as is the skylark. It possesses great powers and for
this very reason Shelley can pray to it for what he feels he is deeply
in need of. He falls "upon the thorns of life," he bleeds; a "heavy
weight of hours has chained and bowed" him. It was Shelley's belief that
poetry, by appealing to the imagination, could stir the reader to
action in a given direction. With Shelley, this direction was liberty
and democracy. In Prometheus Unbound, he sketched the wonderful
world of freedom that he dreamed of; readers, fascinated by Shelley's
glowing descriptions, would be stimulated to want such a world too.
Unfortunately, readers seemed uninterested in his
poetry, and democracy was not making progress in the Europe of 1819,
when he wrote the poem. Shelley was profoundly discouraged, chained and
bowed by a "heavy weight of hours." If he had the power possessed by his
west wind's mythical divinity, readers would listen and freedom would
prosper. "Be thou, Spirit fierce, / My spirit / Be thou me, impetuous
one! . . . Scatter . . . my words among mankind! / Be through my lips to
unawakened earth / The trumpet of a prophecy!" By using the poetic
device of myth, Shelley is able to indulge in wish-thinking without
seeming to and, at the same time, he can strengthen the virtue of hope
in himself. The poem ends optimistically: "O Wind, / If Winter comes,
can Spring be far behind?" Freedom will grow, no matter what obstacles
there may be, and Shelley's words will help it grow.
Shelley's "Ode to the West Wind" is a good
example of Shelley's poetic mind at work, and when it is at work, it is
heaping up similes and metaphors. It is Shelley's extravagant fondness
for metaphorical language that makes him all too often obscure and his
subject matter thin. He is prone to be swept away by words, to be
mastered by them, rather than to be a master of them. The leaves are
driven from the presence of his west wind divinity "like ghosts from an
enchanter fleeing." The simile is not based in reality nor is it
functional. No doubt it comes from Shelley's early reading, much of
which consisted of pulp fiction that dealt in enchanters, demons, and
all forms of the supernatural moving about in an atmosphere of horror.
The wind then changes from an enchanter to a carter driving a load of
wingèd seeds to "their dark wintry bed" where they will lie like corpses
in their graves until they are summoned to arise by the trumpet of the
spring wind. The spring wind drives sweet buds "like flocks to feed in
air" just as the west wind drives the leaves. The buds are not left as
buds; they are transformed into sheep.
In the second stanza, the clouds are at once
leaves "shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean" and they are
also "angels of rain and lightning." They are also, apparently, the
"locks of the approaching storm," and they remind the poet of the locks
on the head of "some fierce Maenad." The west wind is both a stream and a
funeral song, and the coming night will be a huge tomb built by rain
clouds carried by the wind.
In the third stanza, the west wind is the
awakener of the Mediterranean Sea, lulled to sleep by its own currents
and seeing in its sleep "old palaces and towers . . . overgrown with
azure moss and flowers." The effect of the west wind on the Atlantic is
to cut it into chasms as with a huge-bladed weapon and to inspire fear
in the seaweed growing on the bottom. The contrast between the
simplicity of the language in stanzas four and five, where Shelley is
talking about himself, is the difference between dense jungle and
treeless plain. When Shelley describes, the metaphors fall so thick and
fast that the reader should perhaps simply yield without resistance to
the incantation of the language. Shelley sometimes succeeds by sheer
accumulation of language. Critics have noted Shelley's hypnotic power.
The breathless sweep of accumulated language may perhaps be felt
justifiable by the reader in a poem on a violent wind. Something which
has the power of the wind is conveyed by the sheer mass of mellifluous,
figurative language of the first three stanzas.
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