Negative Capability (2) Ode To A Grecian Urn Analysis

Hey world,

Following on from the previous post where I discussed Keats's theory of Negative Capability and what exactly it meant, I am now going to look at and analyse seemingly the only poem of his where critics agree that we can observe the application of his theory.

Critics suggest that his 'Ode to a Grecian Urn' is the best available example of the poet actually exercising the elusive 'negative capability' of which he wrote. The reader can see this in the way he poses questions to the 'silent form', interrogating whatever meaning it might convey rather than communicating his knowledge of the subject. Knowledge is just the notion that Keats urges us to forget about when considering the concept of negative Capability. Remeber- '...a life of sensation rather than thought.'

Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

I have not read much of Keats before, so I am new to his abstract style and archaisms. Basically in this poem he is talking to the urn. He is interrogating it in his mind, asking it all sorts of question about the pictures illustrated on it:

'What men or gods are these?

'What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?

I think it's quite an interesting and unusual object to pick to write a poem about. Ordinarily I wouldn't choose a vase to write about, but Keats is famous for being a bit random, a bit out there. It's what makes his work so interesting to read.

This poem is made entirely of paradoxes. Keats describes these figures on the urn in a vivid life-like illustration, (no pun intended), when in truth all these figures depicted on the vase in various ildyllic poses are frozen, cold and unchanging. This is unnatural because things in life never stay the same. Change is nature:

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;...

and something that is as delicate and fragile as love is never as consistent in reality as shown on the vase. Love is a living thing that cannot and will not freeze. Keats's message here is that the beautiful images on the urn are unrealistic and only two-dimensional in their portrayal of life.

Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

In truth, people do fade whether from age or emotions or memories in your mind. Love doesn't always last, and the eternal relationship portrayed on this utopian vase is delusive.

The second stanza is pretty interesting in terms of love; this is where the reader really begins to pick up on just how much Keats in engaging in reflection on the urn. Here he is creating this image of an idyllic relationship, and he envies the eternal couple on the urn. There are pros and cons to be illustrated on an urn- Keats lists both, first the cons:

'Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,'

Even though they are frozen forever they can never kiss or touch. Then he gets onto the pros:

''Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;'

They are so close to being together physically, but will never achieve that 'goal' (another con), but they shouldn't be disheartened because:

'She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,'

The will never leave each other, get old, or be separated so:

For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Their love is eternal, and nothing can break them apart. This is probably the part that Keats envies most, the dream of eternal love that on earth, seems to only exist in fairytales. Personally I think it would be terrible to be trapped on an urn for ever, close but not close enough to the ones I love.

The final lines Iines of the poem intrigue me most. This is the key chunk of negative capability in the poem:

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

Here Keats is speaking fluent negative capability. Let's remind ourselves really fast: negative capability is the art of open mindedness, considering something with zero preconceptions. So when Keats says that beauty is truth, and truth is beauty, they are one and the same. Beauty is something so natural, so cannot be doubted, so is truth. Truth lies in beauty, but what the exact definition of beauty is I am not sure. Keats tells us that this is all we know, and all we need to know so therefore he thinks that trying to find out everything about something is pointless. I guess it's kind of like art; beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

On the topic of art, let's look at a quote by Pablo Picasso that fits in nicely with the urn:

“We all know that Art is not truth. Art is a lie that makes us realize truth, at least the truth that is given us to understand. The artist must know the manner whereby to convince others of the truthfulness of his lies."

Ok, so this is pretty complicated.

Art is seen as something that is expressed and interpreted differently by every individual. As previously stated: 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.' But according to Picasso, who was not only eloquent with a paintbrush, truth cannot be found in art. Art only makes us realise the truth that we were given (negative capability- looking at something with no preconceptions and having no other knowledge). So, basically art is a mere reminder of the truth (whatever that may be). But what if the reminder is a lie itself...? Picasso then explains that artists have to "know the manner whereby to convince others of the truthfulness of his lies". Wait, what?
Let's break this down.
If art is only a lie, how does an artist convey the truth? Oh wait, sorry, that was a lie. Haha. Never mind.
In context with our 'Ode to a Grecian Urn', the art on the sides of it are lies. The concepts of eternal love, eternal spring and eternal life are lies. Art (the urn) conveys these lies and reminds us that truth is not to be found in art. This art (the lie) makes us realise the lie that is depicted on it. The truth- we find from the art which is a lie- is that people don't live forever, love doesn't always last and change is nature.So, finally, 'Ode to a Grecian Urn' is a poem of paradoxes set in paradise, and is also a very good lie. Negative Capability is a forgotten skill, and I think everyone should aim at least to attempt applying it to some aspect of one's perspective, whether in writing, drawing, appreciating art or even just looking at something (even an urn!). The art of considering something with zero preconceptions is a very beneficial practice. I think it makes you slower to judge and opens your eyes as well as broadening your horizons. I am certainly going to continue to try to just not think- remeber- 'a life of sensation rather than thought.'

Keep your mind open, world.

-A. Heezen