Christopher Frerichs Discussion #4

Reading a poem is about the emotional response it elicits as well as the method you use to analyze the prose.  Case in point when reading Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130 my initial response was one of emotion as I chuckled to myself, struck by the absurdity of the first several lines of deprecating humor:

 

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;

Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

 

Clearly Shakespeare finds his mistress quite ordinary, as this is no ode to some great contemporary beauty he has managed to make acquaintance with (1-4).  Her eyes do not shine like the sun, her lips are a rather plain red, her skin color is quite dusky, and her hair is black and wiry.  Not the sort of prose you’d expect from your typical love sonnet, and from a technique standpoint a clear break from his Italian contemporary Petrarch’s style (Conway 2).  So emotionally I’ve encountered humor, and dare I say it-sarcasm (a personal favorite of mine) and this trend continues until we reach the final two lines, “And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare / As any she belied with false compare” (13-14).  This is where the analysis comes back into play.  We must stop and realize that here is where Shakespeare returns stylistically and technically to Petrarchan form.  In what seems like an apocryphal revelation after reciting his mistress’s every flaw Shakespeare admits that she is indeed rare, and comparable to any woman of note.

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