The themes and ideas present in "Lilith" are made much more explicit in Rossetti's 1869 work "Eden Bower." This ballad poem "gives the whole legend with the minute care for detail beloved by the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood" (Boas 105). As in "Lilith," Rossetti uses descriptions which give rise to visual pictures, describing even the sounds in visual terms (Welland 33). The version of the legend told in this ballad, however, is the main focus of this study, for it is the first time in literature that Lilith has been explicitly linked to the Fall. Lilith's roles as the first wife and the seductive femme fatale merge here to produce a Lilith who is responsible for the greatest evil in human history, the Fall of Man.
The incorporation of Lilith and the snake was certainly not something new. Keats successfully did it in "Lamia," and artists from 1400 onward often depicted the serpent with the head (and hair) of a woman (see Chapter 1, section 9 and illustrations 4-12 for details). What is unique here is the way in which Rossetti draws upon such uses of the Lilith legend and creates an entire myth around her existence, making her responsible for the Fall.
While the artifacts which portrayed Lilith as the serpent in the Tree of Knowledge certainly also made this connection, none had made it explicit until Rossetti. Earlier critics -- perhaps unfamiliar with the artifacts -- even claimed that this intertwining of the Lilith legend and Biblical legend was Rossetti's own innovation (Masefield 60). "Eden Bower," however, is not the origin of the entire story. Instead, it fills in the gaps in the myth not supplied by earlier sources. It supplies Lilith with motive for her actions (revenge) and the means for following through with her plan ("borrowing" Satan's snake-body).
Although "Eden Bower" is a massive 49 stanzas long, the plot is fairly simple to summarize. According to Johnston:
After her expulsion from Eden and her view of the happiness of Adam and the new Eve, Lilith is driven to seek a mad revenge. She offers the serpent her lasting love if he will join her in her plans to tempt the happy pair to their transgression. (119)
Thus, the length of the poem is not a result of the plot. Instead, it results from the insistent sexual imagery between Lilith and the snake. As a critic contemporary to Rossetti wrote, "the reader feels a horrible sense of sliminess, as if he were handling a yellow serpent or conger eel" (Buchanan, quoted in Marsh, Sisterhood, 300).
The image of the snake pervades this poem. First, the reader is informed that Lilith -- much like Lamia -- had a previous existence in the body of a snake: "A snake was I when thou wast my lover" (line 12). According to Howard, this line "gives us a little jolt, links erotic love with evil, [and] prepares us for the shock of the lovemaking between woman and snake" (146). By doing so, it forces the reader to see Lilith as a figure who transcends the constraints of any one body. She is both snake and woman, sensual and beautiful in either incarnation.
The imagery Lilith uses in describing her lovemaking with Adam is also filled with images of the snake as her golden twining hair holds his heart in a net and the serpent's "sweet close rings" are twining about their hearts (lines 24, 32). The children that she and Adam produce before her expulsion are likewise described as serpents: "bright babes. . . that coiled in the woods and waters, / Glittering sons and radiant daughters" (lines 33-36).
Lilith then begins to reveal her anger with God, for she doesn't understand how her perfect body, formed from dust as Adam's equal, is not "good" enough for Adam (line 39). It is for this reason that she seeks revenge on Adam, and the only way for her to obtain this revenge is through the woman "of Adam's flesh," Eve (line 40).
Lilith thus implores the snake to lend her his body for the ransom price of her eternal love (lines 49, 52). Beginning with line 63, then, images of passion, lust, and sexuality between Lilith and the snake are inserted. Some examples include:
Look, my mouth and my cheek are ruddy,
And thou art cold, and fire is my body. . . . (lines 63, 64)
Then bring thou close thine head till it glisten
Along my breast, and lip me and listen. . . . (lines 75, 76)
In thy sweet folds bind me and bend me,
And let me feel the shape thou shalt lend me. . . . (lines 91, 92)
Wreathe thy neck with my hair's bright tether,
And wear my gold and thy gold together! . . . (lines 139, 140)
How shall we mingle our love's caresses,
I in thy coils, and thou in my tresses! . . . (lines 151, 152)
Wrap me round in the form I'll borrow
And let me tell thee of sweet to-morrow. . . . (lines 159, 160)
Fold me fast, O God-snake of Eden! . . .
What more prize than love to impel thee?
Grip and lip my limbs as I tell thee! . . . (lines 185, 187, 188)
One should note that these examples represent only the most obvious among many images of sexuality in this poem.
While completely sexualized in these images, Lilith remains the one in control. Not once does the reader see anything from Satan's perspective or even know what he wants. Instead, Lilith is in full control of her actions, her words, her thoughts, and her body. The sexual advances in these lines are all made by her; they are indeed commands to Satan, an aspect most especially notable in her final command: "Grip and lip my limbs as I tell thee!" (line 188, emphasis added).
Lilith's need for the snake's body is not explicitly explained. It can be assumed, however, that Lilith does not feel able to tempt Adam now that he has Eve, the beautiful and (unlike Lilith) submissive woman who fulfills his needs and desires. As the snake, however -- beautiful and phallic -- Lilith knows that she can tempt Eve. It is through this means, therefore, that she chooses to approach Eve and cause the fall of she and Adam.
The implications of Lilith's actions here -- because of the use of the Adam and Eve story -- reach far beyond those of any other femme fatale in literature. She is thus universalized as the archetypal "Fatal woman" (Johnston 119). Through her intervention, the Fall of Adam-Man becomes the fault of one woman, Lilith-Eve. The last stanza emphasizes this culpability by foretelling the woes that will befall mankind because of woman's actions: Cain will slay Abel, causing the first murder on earth (lines 195,196).
Lilith's power over men is also supreme. As in "La Belle," Lilith can destroy even the strongest of men. Rossetti states, "Is not the foe-God weak as the foeman / When love grows hate in the heart of a woman?" (lines 71,72). Although speaking specifically of how Lilith has power over God himself, Rossetti here implies that all women have fantastic power over men -- even the strongest of men -- by virtue of their beauty.
It may seem ironic, therefore, that this interpretation of Lilith is being cited as the definitive beginning of her transformation. However, the techniques used by Rossetti in this poem, especially that of narrative voice, give opening to feminist interpretations and readings of Lilith that have hitherto been nearly impossible to glean from her representations. By allowing Lilith to tell this story herself, to make the story "wholly her own," Rossetti gives Lilith a speaking space which was denied to her in traditional accounts of the Fall (Howard 148). Here, she inserts herself into that story, making herself the catalyst for what is -- Biblically speaking -- the most important event in human history.
According to Johnston, however, "Dante Gabriel seemingly could not decide between [Lilith] as a figure of sensuality or as one of demoniac repulsion." Here, he cites the blurring of Lilith's characterization (voluptuous beauty) with the narrative thread (evil destroyer) as a "flaw" of the poem (Johnston 120). Similarly, Mégroz reflected that Rossetti "seems to have hesitated between the demoniac and weird element and the erotic feeling" (189).
On this point, however, the writer would certainly have to disagree. Instead of reading this complication as a "flaw" in Rossetti's poem, one could more appropriately read it as an emphasis of the paradox that Rossetti perceives in the femme fatale: she is wildly attractive, yet she is also dangerous. Rossetti does not waver between the two depictions here, but, rather, forges them together into one terrifyingly erotic theme.
This conflict is also portrayed in Rossetti's use of an alternating and contrasting refrain. Each stanza contains either "Alas the hour!," indicating an impending woe, or "Sing Eden Bower!," giving a pretense of peace and happiness. The juxtaposition of these refrains within the ballad indicates that the contrast Rossetti sought was indeed intentional, not a "flaw" as Johnston asserts.
Howard makes this point clear, explaining how the first line of each stanza -- which always ends in either "Adam," "Eden," or "Lilith" -- and the refrain -- which alternates:
provide a repetitive link from stanza to stanza, and the repetition of the names emphasizes the erotic relationship between Adam and Lilith, the motive for revenge, the irony of title and refrain. (145)
The refrains also serve to impede chronology, making the poem a virtual see-saw of information, taking the reader backward and forward in time at Lilith's whim. Simultaneously, it acts to increase the erotic intensity of the poem by building toward some climactic moment when the refrains cease and the poem concludes.
The title of the poem itself -- "Eden Bower" -- indicates the irony and contrast that will be present in the poem. Generally, a bower is a shaded, leafy recess, an arbor, an area of shelter within a shelter. Poetically, it also suggests a private chamber or boudoir (see previous section on "Lady Lilith"). Yet, the reader knows from the outset that the catastrophic fall of mankind will take place within this supposedly safe and protected area, the "bower." Thus, the beautiful, safe environment suggested by the refrain of "Sing Eden bower!" refrain and the title of the poem are "starkly contrasted" by the horror of what is happening (Howard 146).
The conflict that a reader feels when reading "Eden Bower" is highlighted by the fact that Lilith is "the pole for sympathy" (Howard, 144). Unlike any other representation of her before this time, Lilith is here given nearly exclusive speaking space. No longer is her story being told by a biased third-person, as in the Zohar and Alphabet accounts. Nor is it being told in the manner that Rossetti did in "Lilith," introducing her story with "it is told" to indicate that he, the narrator, is simply re-telling already established knowledge.
Instead, Lilith is given speaking space and tells the story from her own perspective. The ballad is, in fact, a monologue by Lilith. The lust, love, and hatred which she expresses is not being imposed upon her from an outside force, but is being related by she herself. In this way, it is even more frightening and powerful, for she is no longer contained within someone else's discourse. She speaks her own.
In his essay, "Rossetti's Significant Details," Jerome J. McGann explains the effect of this new spin on the old story. Speaking specifically of "My Sister's Sleep," but also, more generally, of all Rossetti poems, McGann states:
He does not want his reader simply to respond to the poem's sentimental drama. Rather, the poem basically seek to tell us how to renew our capacity for fresh experience. Rossetti accomplishes this by manipulating his materials in a new and startling way: thereby we are not only drive to a new perspective, we are also forced to a clear consciousness of the process as it happens. Like all symbolic modes, Christian understanding depends upon a depth of tradition: all new experience is referred to the preexisting myth. If, then, an artist invokes the framework of a traditional symbolism but consciously renders it inoperative, his audience is forced to regard the medium of the symbology in a totally new way. . . . By at once undermining a more traditional set of responses and driving us toward unexpected impressions, Rossetti makes us understand what it means to undergo a fresh experience, or - - As Shelley would have said -- to have the veil of familiarity torn away. (Sambrook, ed. 234)
In "Eden Bower," this "new and startling" manipulation of Rossetti's is the fact that he gives voice to Lilith. By having her tell the story of the Fall from her own perspective, the "traditional symbolism" of that story becomes "inoperative," and the reader must think of the Fall in totally new ways. One seeks to find a presupposed religious meaning but, instead, finds none (Sambrook, ed. 233). Because of this, the reader is forced to make meanings of her own.
The reader, therefore, is placed in an ambivalent state of "attraction-revulsion" (Howard 144). One recognizes that her plot is sinister, but one also feels sympathy for her because of her privileged speaking space. Perhaps more than any other reason, this aspect of the poem is why "Eden Bower" can be said to have "transformed" Lilith. From this representation of her, feminist considerations and interpretations can easily be read, seeing her as the woman who was "wronged" by God and by Adam, not the evil witch who simply plotted to ruin humankind forever.
As in a dramatic monologue, Lilith here speaks to an audience. In line 121, she even addresses herself for emphasis. Says Howard:
Rossetti's Lilith makes the story wholly her own. She jeers, is triumphantly sarcastic. She describes Adam's petty betrayal (Genesis 3:12) as the "bravest" of his "brave words" (line 119) and Eve's tenuous excuse (Genesis 3:13) as words which will sate her heart (line 123). (148)
Thus, the story of Adam as the innocent and betrayed man who was led to destruction through the hands of an evil Eve is overturned by Lilith. Here, she tells her own version of the story, allowing the reader no other interpretation as she presents her account of the events as absolutely true.
At times, Lilith also employs an addressing form of speech, particularly at moments when her ecstasy and pain are at a peak. Interestingly, her only audience is Satan, placing the reader in the position of Satan himself as she reads the poem. This is another disruption of the previously conventional manner of depicting Lilith, for the reader is no longer looking at her from the perspective of a rabbi or other more morally pure individual, but is viewing her through the lens of Satan, the epitome of evil. From this vantage point, Lilith's sinfulness seems far less horrible and even, perhaps, justifiable.
Throughout the poem, images that are traditionally held to be repulsive, such as snakes, are described in terms which glorify them and their "beauty." Early on, she describes her previous bestial existence as "the fairest snake" and refers to her serpentine children as "glittering sons and radiant daughters" (line 13). These oxymorons tell the reader that snakes, for instance, are not necessarily synonymous with evil and ugliness, but can be beautiful.
This exploding of the dichotomies between beauty and ugliness, beasts and humans, and good and evil forces the reader to view things in a different manner. (For other examples of exploded dichotomies, such as pure/impure, see Bullen 145.) This, in turn, raises the question: "Is Lilith really evil?" While her actions, if taken on their own merit, seem to imply that the answer is "yes," Rossetti does not tell the story of her actions in such a way as to imply that she is intrinsically evil.
All of this "ambivalence" around Lilith leads to the erasure of moral judgment from her character, an act which again marks the transformation of Lilith. Rossetti, like his Pre- Raphaelite Brothers, paints a world where love and hatred are intertwined. Lilith says of Adam, for example, "how I loved and hated / Man" (lines 47, 48). The love, in this case meaning sensual, erotic love, is therefore inseparable from the dark, destructive force of hatred.
This theme did not arise out of Rossetti's work alone. According to Stanford:
Placing Pre-Raphaelite poetry in the context of nineteenth-century literature, one may say that it purified the Victorian idiom of verse which preceded it by weeding out its unctuous wordy morals, and substituting criteria of emotional and atmospheric intensity for those of "message" and "prophecy" (xxvi).
Rossetti, therefore, was drawing from the Pre-Raphaelite tradition -- solidified by him but also somewhat existent in earlier writers (such as Keats) -- when he blurred the boundaries between evil and beauty. All of the aspects of Lilith, therefore, come together to create a woman who is beautiful, seductive -- possibly even evil -- but not necessarily morally reprehensible. The moral judgment is left out of Rossetti's poem and is left for the reader to decide.
The speaking space given to Lilith, the explanation of her feelings of personal rejection, and Rossetti's invitation to the reader to break down dichotomous relationships all allow Lilith to be read as a figure far more complex than an evil child-slaying witch. These techniques, indeed, allow for feminist interpretation, opening the way for Lilith's adaptation as a feminist heroine by later writers.
The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and Its Influences (1848-1954)
Rossetti's painting "Lady Lilith" (1863 and 1864-1868?)
Rossetti's poem "Lilith," later published as "Body's Beauty" (1868)
Rossetti's ballad "Eden Bower" (1869)
"Femme fatale" images in "A Sea-Spell" (1868) and "The Orchard Pit" (1869)
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