Tennyson’s The Lady of Shalott Essay -- Tennyson Lady Shalott essays

Tennysons The Lady of Shalott What used to be a simple home is straightaway a sacred sanctuary, a refuge from all the filth of the world, a place to trap and stifle beauty, adventure, and passion. What used to be a simple woman is now an angel, a pure and domestic celestial being. I live in an era where women are considered most beautiful when isolated, helpless, and even dead where a skirt with passion is scarier than a bitter hag where feminine is now a synonym for pure, selfless, and submissive where sexism has put on the fancy dress of romance. And Alfred, Lord Tennyson is a man of his era, grabbing romantic sexism by the hand and enchantingly twirling her around the dance floor.Tennysons poem The Lady of Shalott has created a great tension within me, within my mind and heart. He plays into the publics hands, trapping a beauty in a high tower and keeping her there with the threat of a curseThere she weaves by night and dayA magic web with colors gay.She has heard a whisper say,A curse is on her if she stayTo look down to Camelot.She know not what the curse may be,And so she weaveth steadily,A little other care hath she,The Lady of Shalott.Not unless is she trapped and isolated, but also this lady sits weaving, apparently cheerful and content. Protected, pure, even angelic she sings her melodies and weaves and weaves. A beautiful woman weaving in her uttermostaway room, that seeing the world through shadows and reflections Tennyson pitifully feeds off of stifling social expectations, weaved deep into our culture (with frail Snow White laying helplessly poisoned in a glass case and with dear Repunzel combing her long hair in a high fortressin a land far, far away). In other words, at the beginning o... ... not trying to say anything as much as he is capturing the national mood and developing languages and images that haunt, move, and affect. At some point writers, readers, characters, and people mustiness put aside their intentions and desires for social criticism and take part in the magic, even if it isnt the wisest choice.I must refer one last time to my own writing as Jane brilliantly describes this unwise, tension-filled, passionate choice I looked, and had an acute pleasure in smella precious yet poignant pleasure pure gold, with a steely point of agony a pleasure like what the thirst-perishing man big businessman feel who knows the well to which he has crept is poisoned, yet stoops and drinks divine draughts nalwaystheless. (173)So sing on talented Tennyson. Ill sway to the rhythm of your music.Bibbity, bobbity, boo.and they lived happily ever after.