Ode To Nightingale, Melancholy, Grecian Urn   
(John Keats)
  
THREE  ODES OF KEATS: THEMATIC PATTERN IN MELANCHOLY, NIGHTINGALE & GRECIAN URN ODES                                                                                                                                       Indeed,  the  Odes  are  the  finest   efflorescences  of  Keats?  genius.  As  a  rare  confluence  of  joy  and  sorrow  the  Odes  record  the  poet?s  passionate  search  for  some  immutable  principle  of  Joy  and  Beauty  on  the  face  of  the  ubiquitous  operation  of  Time,  whose  face  is  changed  and  decayed.  Keats  began  as  an  ardent  and  unsuspicious  votary  of  Beauty  and  Joy, and  made  a  simplistic  equation  that  to  extract  beauty  from  whatever  sensuous  object  lying  before  the  poet  was  the  only  sacred  human  prerogative. He  believed  in  the  beginning  that  mankind  was  galloping  towards  a  millennial   destiny, and  that  Nature  presented  a  fun-fiesta  of  the  senses; and  such  a  spectacle  only  waits  to  be  decoded  and  enjoyed  by  man.                              When  we  come  to  the  Odes, we  find  Keats  completely  changed  self -  a  battered  man  with  shattered  nerves. The  battery  of  trenchant  criticism  unleashed  against  his  poetry, the  death  of  his  brother  Tom, the  emigration  of    George  and  the  long  agony  of  his  love-passion  was  wearing  out  his  spirits, while  health  was  beginning  to  fail. Gone  are  his  high, unquestioning  presumptions  about  life, Joy  and  Beauty. Gregarious  salvation, or  even  the  more  tenuous  hope  of  the  poet?s  sacred  prerogative  for  personal  salvation  through  a  heightened  sensitivity  and  creative  imagination, seems  to  vanish  like  an  embarrassing  dream. The  poet  has  passed  through  an  ordeal  of  fire  which  life  exposed  him  to. Life  is  hopelessly  moored  in  the  mire  of  time  and  change, and  any  hope  of  relief  seems  impertinence, not  to  speak  of  salvation. With  life  creeping  on  all  fours, and  souls  becoming  ?leaden-eyed?, the  dream  of  Beauty  and  Joy  appears  to  totter  and  shrink  back  almost  in  embarrassment-  their  very  validity, even  in  terms  of  the  swiftest  imagination, is  now  under  the  shadow  of  doubt.                    In  his  desperate  attempt  to  fall  back  on  at  least  some  assurance  Keats  in   the  Odes  radically  renovates  his  version  of  Beauty  and, with  it, the  proposed  means  to  achieve  the  same. Beauty  is  no  longer  viewed  in  pure  sensuous  terms. It  now  consists  in  the  intensity  and  permanence  of  a  feeling  an  object  or  experience  evokes; for  only  that  way  one  could  leap  out  of  the  mortal  dimensions  of  time  and  space. Obsessed  at  the  distressing  limitations  of  reality  Keats?  romantic  exuberance  tries  means  after  means  in  the  Odes  to  grasp  on  some  undying  essence  that  shall beat  Time  in  its  own  game. In  a  mode  which  is  Shakesperean, he  shifts  through  alternative  possibilities -  what  if  it  is  the  bower  of  the  Nightingale, or, how  if  it  could  be  the  enduring  art-world  of  the  Urn? However, thanks  to  his  artistic  fidelity  to  his  own  experience  and  his  ?negative  capability?, he  does  never  forego  his  solid  fund  of  common  sense  and  declares  the  results  of  each  flight  of  fancy  as  tentative  and  invalid. Reality  cannot  be  finally  fought  off  or  ignored. It  is  because  Reality  throughout  keeps  lurking  in  the  backdrop  that  his  quest  for  immutable  Beauty  attains  greater  veracity  and  elusive  charm. The  humanity  of  Keats  is  affirmed  as  his  religion  of  Beauty  is  enveloped  by  an  honest  recognition  of  life?s  real  terms. The  goddess  of  Beauty,  once  the  veil  is  lifted, is  no  other  than  the  goddess  of  Melancholy:             ?Ay, in  the  very  temple  of   Delight   Veil?d  Melancholy  has  herSovran  shrine.? [ Melancholy- ode]   True  melancholy, as  Leonard  Unger  suggests, is  to  be  found  in  the  fullness  of  living, in  beauty, joy  and  delight  for, these  experiences  make  most  poignant  the  passage  of  time  through  which   such  experiences  and  life  must  come  to  an  end.                  The ? Nightingale-ode?  reflects  the  poet?s  pre-occupation  with  Beauty  in  the  backdrop  of  universal  onslaught  of  time:   ?Where Beauty  cannot  keep  her  lustrous  eyes,   Or  new  Love  pine  at  them  beyond  tomorrow.? [ Grecian-Urn ? ode]   The  poet?s  attempt  to  climb  the  sensuous  ladder  or  ride  on  the  flight  of  imagination  prove  pathetically  delusory. The  strained  emotional  bid  to  immortalize  the  bird  also  does  not  succeed, but  perishes  in  the  ?perilous  seas?; the  princess  must  still  await  for  an  unknown  age  her  unknown  deliverer.                   Imagination  is  once  again  embraced  with  high  expectations  in the  ?Grecian  Urn-ode?. The  semi-permanent  existence  of  the  Urn  excites  in  the  mind  of  the  miserable  poet  exaggerated  imaginative  proddings  about  eternity:   ?For  ever  piping  songs, for  ever  new.? [ Grecian-Urn-ode]   But  the  idyll  also  turns  out  to  be  abortive  and  the  vision  seems  to  fizzle  out  as  cold  winds  of  rationality  stirs  in : ?Cold  Pastoral?.The  continuous  shift  in  the  poet?s  mood -  now  rising  to  Olympian  heights  of  ecstasy, now  falling  to  the  abysmal  depths  of  despair-  reflects  the  tension  between  Beauty  and  Mutability. The  statement  about  Truth  and  Beauty  with  which  the  poem  ends  is  an  affirmation  that  Art  takes  its  truth  from  life  and  then   returns   it  to  life  as  beauty. The  paradox  that  teases  us  ?out  of  thought?, as  Cleanth  Brooks  suggests, is  that  in  a  work  of  art  there  is  a  kind  of  life  which  is  both  dead  and  immortal. It  is  a  melancholic  truth  that  only  the  dead  are  immortal, but  it  must  be  realized  that  delight  is  inseparable  from  melancholy  because  it  is  not  conceivable  apart  from  the  mortal  predicament.  
 
  
 
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