Literatura Gótica
Literatura Gótica
Literatura Gótica
Lucía Solaz
El terror gótico tal y como lo conocemos hoy en día es en gran medida una
invención de este periodo. Los quisquillosos árbitros de la Era de la Razón
no encontraron ninguna utilidad a los fantasmas y a las atrocidades sádicas
que Shakespeare y sus contemporáneos habían explotado, pero para finales
de 1700, estos fantasmas, reprimidos pero no “muertos”, retornaron con
fuerza en forma de novelas y poesía gótica. Dos siglos más tarde, los films de
horror se mantendrían fieles a esta tradición, reinventando antiguas imágenes
de locura, muerte y decadencia.
El gótico fue madurando y en las décadas de 1778 y 1780 siguió dos líneas
de desarrollo, una que continuaba el espíritu subversivo de Walpole y otra
línea más conservadora, doméstica y didáctica. Estas tendencias se pueden
apreciar en las novelas de dos de las figuras más importantes de la escuela
gótica: el audaz Matthew Lewis y la más conservadora Ann Radcliffe. Las
imitaciones de estos dos autores abarrotaron pronto las librerías. En contraste
con la escasa validez de las populares novelas por entregas, la narrativa
gótica psicológica de calidad intelectual seria mantuvo la buena salud del
gótico durante la década de 1820. Frankenstein de Mary Shelley, Melmoth el
errabundo de Maturin y Memorias privadas y confesiones de un pecador
justificado de James Hogg demostraron el trágico potencial del gótico y
dieron una pista sobre la clase de sofisticación psicológica y metafísica que
marcaría las obras de Hawthorne y Le Fanu. La riqueza simbólica y
filosófica de estas novelas góticas indica el papel principal que desempeñaría
el goticismo durante el siglo XIX, activando los oscuros sueños de muchos
grandes escritores que se volvieron hacia el gótico para realzar el carácter
trágico de su arte.
Las obras góticas americanas erigirían sus propias versiones del castillo
encantado en sus imágenes de una civilización insegura. Los principales
temas serían el terror a uno mismo, al desorden psíquico y social, a la
desintegración de las familias, a las contradicciones y conflictos ontológicos
y un vivo sentimiento de soledad y carencia de hogar. Todas la variedades de
gótico americano, tanto masculinas como femeninas, comparten un rasgo en
común: la inclinación a explorar y exponer el lado oscuro de la experiencia
americana y sus terribles ironías morales, especialmente la desolación
acarreada por el progreso, la división racial y el temor a fracasar en una
cultura que tanto enfatiza el éxito.
Uno de los maestros del género, H.P. Lovecraft introdujo el mito gótico en
el siglo veinte, aunque la vitalidad del horror gótico en este siglo se debe en
gran medida a su popularidad cinematográfica.
NOTAS:
[1] BRIGGS, Julia: Night Visitors: The Rise and Fall of the English
Ghost Story. Faber. Londres, 1977, p. 10.
OTRA BIBLIOGRAFÍA:
The Raven
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
For other uses, see The Raven (disambiguation).
"The Raven" depicts a mysterious raven's midnight visit to a mourning narrator, as
illustrated by John Tenniel (1858).
"The Raven" is a narrative poem by the American writer Edgar Allan Poe,
first published in January 1845. It is noted for its musicality, stylized
language, and supernatural atmosphere. It tells of a talking raven's
mysterious visit to a distraught lover, tracing the latter's slow descent into
madness. The lover, often identified as being a student, [1][2] is lamenting the
loss of his love, Lenore. The raven, sitting on a bust of Pallas, seems to
further instigate his distress with its constant repetition of the word,
"Nevermore." Throughout the poem, Poe makes allusions to folklore and
various classical works.
Poe claimed to have written the poem very logically and methodically. His
intention was to create a poem that would appeal to both critical and popular
tastes, as he explains in the follow-up essay: "The Philosophy of
Composition". The poem was inspired in part by a talking raven in the novel
Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty by Charles Dickens.[3] Poe
borrows the complex rhythm and meter of Elizabeth Barrett's poem "Lady
Geraldine's Courtship".
The first publication of "The Raven" on January 29, 1845, in the New York
Evening Mirror made Poe widely popular in his lifetime. The poem was soon
reprinted, parodied, and illustrated. Though some critics disagree about the
value of the poem, it remains one of the most famous poems ever written. [4]
Contents
[hide]
1 Synopsis
2 Analysis
2.1 Allusions
2.2 Poetic structure
3 Publication history
3.1 Illustrators
4 Composition
5 Critical reception and impact
6 See also
7 Notes
8 References
9 External links
[edit] Synopsis
The Raven
weary,
"Not the least obeisance made he", as illustrated by Gustave Doré (1884).
"The Raven" follows an unnamed narrator who sits reading "forgotten lore"[5]
as a method to forget the loss of his love, Lenore. A "rapping at [his]
chamber door"[5] reveals nothing, but excites his soul to "burning". [6] A similar
rapping, slightly louder, is heard at his window. When he goes to investigate,
a raven steps into his chamber. Paying no attention to the man, the raven
perches on a bust of Pallas.
Amused by the raven's comically serious disposition, the man demands that
the bird tell him its name. The raven's only answer is "Nevermore." [6] The
narrator is surprised that the raven can talk, though it will not say anything
further. He reasons that the bird learned the word "Nevermore" from some
"unhappy master" and that it is the only word it knows. [6] The narrator
remarks that his "friend" the raven will soon fly out of his life, just as "other
friends have flown before"[6] along with his previous hopes. As if answering,
the raven responds again with "Nevermore".[6] The narrator is convinced that
this single word, possibly learned from a previous owner with bad luck, is all
that the bird can say.[6]
Even so, the narrator pulls his chair directly in front of the raven, determined
to learn more about it. He thinks for a moment, not saying anything, but his
mind wanders back to his lost Lenore. He thinks the air grows denser and
feels the presence of angels. Confused by the association of the angels with
the bird, the narrator becomes angry, calling the raven a "thing of evil" and a
"prophet". As he yells at the raven it only responds, "Nevermore." [7] Finally,
he asks the raven if he will be reunited with Lenore in heaven. When the
raven responds with its typical "Nevermore", he shrieks and commands the
raven to return to the "Plutonian shore",[7] though it never moves.
Presumably at the time of the poem's recitation by the narrator, the raven
"still is sitting"[7] on the bust of Pallas. The narrator's final admission is that
his soul is trapped beneath the raven's shadow and shall be lifted
"Nevermore".[7]
[edit] Analysis
Poe wrote the poem as a narrative, without intentionally creating an allegory
or falling into didacticism.[2] The main theme of the poem is one of undying
devotion.[8] The narrator experiences a perverse conflict between desire to
forget and desire to remember. He seems to get some pleasure from
focusing on loss.[9] The narrator assumes that the word "Nevermore" is the
raven's "only stock and store", and yet he continues to ask it questions,
knowing what the answer will be. His questions, then, are purposely self-
deprecating and further incite his feelings of loss. [10] Poe leaves it unclear if
the raven actually knows what it is saying or if it really intends to cause a
reaction in the poem's narrator.[11] The narrator begins as weak and weary,
becomes regretful and grief-stricken, before passing into a frenzy and,
finally, madness.[12]
The raven perches on a bust of Pallas, a symbol of wisdom meant to imply the
narrator is a scholar.
[edit] Allusions
Poe says that the narrator is a young scholar.[13] Though this is not explicitly
stated in the poem, it is mentioned in "The Philosophy of Composition". It is
also suggested by the narrator reading books of "lore" as well as by the bust
of Pallas Athena, goddess of wisdom.[1]
He is reading "many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore". [5] Similar
to the studies suggested in Poe's short story "Ligeia", this lore may be about
the occult or black magic. This is also emphasized in the author's choice to
set the poem in December, a month when the forces of darkness are
believed to be especially active. The use of the raven — the "devil bird" —
also suggests this.[14] This devil image is emphasized by the narrator's belief
that the raven is "from the Night's Plutonian shore", or a messenger from the
afterlife, referring to Pluto, the Roman god of the underworld[9] (also known
as Hades in Greek mythology).
Poe chose a raven as the central symbol in the story because he wanted a
"non-reasoning" creature capable of speech. He decided on a raven, which
he considered "equally capable of speech" as a parrot, because it matched
the intended tone of the poem.[15] Poe said the raven is meant to symbolize
mournful and never-ending remembrance.[16] He was also inspired by Grip,
the raven in Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty by Charles
Dickens.[17] One scene in particular bears a resemblance to "The Raven": at
the end of the fifth chapter of Dickens's novel, Grip makes a noise and
someone says, "What was that – him tapping at the door?" The response is,
"'Tis someone knocking softly at the shutter."[18] Dickens's raven could speak
many words and had many comic turns, including the popping of a
champagne cork, but Poe emphasized the bird's more dramatic qualities.
Poe had written a review of Barnaby Rudge for Graham's Magazine saying,
among other things, that the raven should have served a more symbolic,
prophetic purpose.[18] The similarity did not go unnoticed: James Russel
Lowell in his "A Fable for Critics" wrote the verse, "Here comes Poe with his
raven, like Barnaby Rudge / Three-fifths of him genius and two-fifths sheer
fudge."[19]
Poe may also have been drawing upon various references to ravens in
mythology and folklore. In Norse mythology, Odin possessed two ravens
named Hugin and Munin, representing thought and memory.[20] The raven
also gets a reputation as a bird of ill omen in the book of Genesis.[21]
According to Hebrew folklore, Noah sends a white raven to check conditions
while on the ark. It learns that the floodwaters are beginning to dissipate, but
it does not immediately return with the news. It is punished by being turned
black and being forced to feed on carrion forever. In Ovid's Metamorphoses,
a raven also begins as white before Apollo punishes it by turning it black for
delivering a message of a lover's unfaithfulness. The raven's role as a
messenger in Poe's poem may draw from those stories. [22]
Poe also mentions the Balm of Gilead, a reference to the Book of Jeremiah
in the Bible: "Is there no balm in Gilead; is there no physician there? why
then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered?" [23] In that
context, the Balm of Gilead is a resin used for medicinal purposes
(suggesting, perhaps, that the narrator needs to be healed after the loss of
Lenore). He also refers to "Aidenn", another word for the Garden of Eden,
though Poe uses it to ask if Lenore has been accepted into Heaven. At
another point, the narrator imagines that seraphim (a type of angel) have
entered the room. The narrator thinks they are trying to take his memories of
Lenore away from him using nepenthe, a drug mentioned in Homer's
Odyssey to induce forgetfulness.
[edit] Poetic structure
The poem is made up of 18 stanzas of six lines each. Generally, the meter is
trochaic octameter — eight trochaic feet per line, each foot having one
stressed syllable followed by one unstressed syllable. [3] The first line, for
example (with / representing stressed syllables and x representing unstressed):
Syllabic structure of a verse[24]
Stress / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x
Syllable Once up- on a mid- night drear- y, while I pon- dered weak and wear- y
Édouard Manet's illustration of the poem was one of many made after initial
publication.
Poe first brought "The Raven" to his friend and former employer George Rex
Graham of Graham's Magazine in Philadelphia. Graham declined the poem,
which may not have been in its final version, though he gave Poe $15 as
charity.[28] Poe then attempted to place the poem with The American Review,
which paid him $9 for it.[29] Though it was first sold to The American Review,
which printed it in February 1845, "The Raven" was first published in the
Evening Mirror on January 29, 1845, as an "advance copy".[13] Nathaniel
Parker Willis, editor of the Mirror, introduced it as "unsurpassed in English
poetry for subtle conception, masterly ingenuity of versification, and
consistent, sustaining of imaginative lift... It will stick to the memory of
everybody who reads it."[4] Following this publication the poem appeared in
periodicals across the United States, including the New York Tribune
(February 4, 1845), Broadway Journal (vol. 1, February 8, 1845), Southern
Literary Messenger (vol. 11, March 1845), Literary Emporium (vol. 2,
December 1845), Saturday Courier, 16 (July 25, 1846), and the Richmond
Examiner (September 25, 1849).[30] It has also appeared in numerous
anthologies, starting with Poets and Poetry of America edited by Rufus
Wilmot Griswold in 1847.
[edit] Illustrators
Later publications of "The Raven" included artwork by well-known
illustrators. Notably, in 1858 "The Raven" appeared in a British Poe
anthology with illustrations by John Tenniel, the Alice in Wonderland
illustrator (The Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe: With Original Memoir,
London: Sampson Low). "The Raven" was published independently with
lavish woodcuts by Gustave Doré in 1884 (New York: Harper & Brothers).
Doré died before its publication.[31] In 1875 a French edition with English and
French text was published with lithographs by the famed Impressionist
Édouard Manet and translation by the Symbolist Stephane Mallarmé.[32]
Many 20th century artists and contemporary illustrators created artworks and
illustrations based on "The Raven", including Edmund Dulac, István Orosz,
[33][34]
Ryan Price,[35] Odilon Redon and Gahan Wilson.
[edit] Composition
Main article: The Philosophy of Composition
Poe capitalized on the success of "The Raven" by following it up with his
essay "The Philosophy of Composition" (1846), in which he detailed the
poem's creation. His description of its writing is probably exaggerated,
though the essay serves as an important overview of Poe's literary
theory.[36] He explains that every component of the poem is based on
logic: the raven enters the chamber to avoid a storm (the "midnight
dreary" in the "bleak December"), and its perch on a pallid white bust
was to create visual contrast against the dark black bird. No aspect of
the poem was an accident, he claims, but is based on total control by
the author.[37] Even the term "Nevermore", he says, is used because of
the effect created by the long vowel sounds (though Poe may have been
inspired to use the word by the works of Lord Byron or Henry
Wadsworth Longfellow[38]). Poe had experimented with the long o sound
throughout many other poems: "no more" in "Silence", "evermore" in
"The Conqueror Worm".[1] The topic itself, Poe says, was chosen
because "the death... of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most
poetical topic in the world". Told from "the lips... of a bereaved lover" is
best suited to achieve the desired effect.[2] Beyond the poetics of it, the
lost Lenore may have been inspired by events in Poe's own life as well,
either to the early loss of his mother, Eliza Poe, or the long-illness
endured by his wife, Virginia.[9] Ultimately, Poe considered "The Raven"
an experiment to "suit at once the popular and critical taste", accessible
to both the mainstream and high literary worlds. [2] It is unknown how
long Poe worked on "The Raven"; speculation ranges from a single day
to ten years. Poe recited a poem believed to be an early version with an
alternate ending of "The Raven" in 1843 in Saratoga, New York.[3] An
early draft may have featured an owl.[39]
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"
Merely this, and nothing more.
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door,
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore,
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered,
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown before,
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee,
Respite - respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted,
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore,
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."