Lehigh University
Lehigh Preserve
Theses and Dissertations
2006
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen : the
speaker's quest for power in Shakespeare's sonnets
Duane Graner
Lehigh University
Follow this and additional works at: http://preserve.lehigh.edu/etd
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Graner, Duane, "Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen : the speaker's quest for power in Shakespeare's sonnets" (2006).
Theses and Dissertations. Paper 943.
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Graner, Duane
IINor Draw No
Lines There with
Thine Antique
Penll: The
Speaker1s Quest
for Power in ...
May 2006
"Nor Draw No Lines There with Thine Antique Pen": The Speaker's Quest for Power in
Shakespeare's Sonnets
by
Duane Graner
~I
A Thesis
Presented to the Graduate and Reseu;::h Committee
of Lehigh University
in Candidacy for the Degree of
Master of Arts
111
English
Lehigh University
April 6. 2006
Table of Contents
Abstract
1
Main Text
2
Works Cited
32
Vita
34
111
Abstract
This study explores the various ways in which the speaker in William
Shakespeare's sonnet sequence utilizes the sonnets addressed to the young man to pursue
an agenda of self-empowerment. First, I refer to the analytic work of Katherine DuncanJones, Paul Innes, and Thomas O. Jones and examine Sonnets 38 and 39 to illustrate what
appears to be the predominant concern of the young man sonnets, which is the speaker's
desire to praise and admire his male companion through his poetry. Then, my study goes
on to examine a series of sonnets that deviate from this central concern. In these
particular sonnets. the speaker does not merely extol the young man but attempts to use
the medium of the sonnets for self-empowerment. Specifically. I examine the content in
Sonnets 19.29. 55. 107. and 123 to indicate those instances in which the speaker employs
his poetry to obtain such beneficial results as the attainment of literary authority and the
acquisition of autonomous and psychological power.
"Nor Draw No Lines There with Thine Antique Pen"; The Speaker's Quest for Power in
Shakespeare's Sonnets
In the various explorations of the young man sonnets in William Shakespeare's
--- sonnet sequence, critical analyses seem to gravitate to a series of recurring subject areas
and concerns. For instance, studies of the young man sonnets concentrate on the nature
of the relationship between the young man and the speaker as well as the discovery of
autobiographical clements in the poetry. Joseph Pequigney draws attention to "two of the
broader and fundamental questions raised by the entire love-sonnet sequence: the
homoerotic character of the love exchanged between the older [speaker] and the younger
friend, and the affinity between the historical author and the [speaker]" ("Sonnets" 285).
Indeed, much has been said and continues to be said about the presence of
autobiographical and homosocial/homosexual content in Shakespeare's poetry. Research
on the sonnets finds itself occupied with "scholars seeking to identify Shakespeare's
young man" in a "diligent scavenger hunt" (Hammond 17,26), attempting "to show
convincingly whether [the sonnets] do or do not have a preponderantly autobiographical
or topical character" (Wait 7), and detcnnining if the sonnets depict the "sexual
infatuation ... of the speaker with the young man" (Vendler 15). While the scrutiny of
these aspects of Shakespeare's text certainly has its merit and worth, focusing too heavily
on these topics makes it possible to O\"Cflook what the speaker tries to accomplish for
himsc1fthrough the sonnet sequence. In 1:1ct. as one attempts to probe the nature of the
speaker by analyzing the sonnets' content. an interesting L1cet of the speaker's character
comes to light. Specifically, a close reading of Shakespeare's sonnet sequence reveals
that the speaker attempts to use the sonnet to bestow power upon himself. The speaker is
not solely interested in trying to have an effect on the actions or positions of the other
characters or ruminating about their attributes; he endeavors to exploit the very poetry
that he produces in order to obtain some form of strength or authority. Rather than
merely focus his energies for the betterment of a second party, Shakespeare's narrator
takes his own person into consideration and attempts to empower himself. An
exploration of William Burto's edition of the sonnets as well as a number of critical texts
sheds light on how Shakespeare's speaker puts forth an effort to attain power through his
art form of choice.
Before one can consider the speaker's employment of the sonnet to augment his
own status, one must acknowledge that the speaker does not always turn his thoughts
towards self-empowerment. On the contrary, there are points in the sonnet sequence in
which the speaker appears to confornl to the tenets of the early modern social hierarchy,
thereby placing himself in a position in which he. a lower-class member of society, pays
homage to his socially superior patron. In the book Shake.\]Jeare and the English
Renaissance Sonnet. Paul Innes observes the "convcntions of patronage" cmerging in
Shakespeare's work. and he notes that this "Patronage rcquires ... one figurc [to bc]
privileged ovcr thc other" (117). Innes points out that a poet's service to a patron is a
"standard sonnct conccit of feudal homage" and that Shakespcare' s "poetic persona Iis
seen] as o\ving fealty to thc friend" on account of "his supcrior social sY.ltus" (117), and
thus it appears that the speaker is an individual who defers to his upper-class friend. In
her introductory comments to the Arden Shakespeare edition of the sonnets. Katharine
Duncan-Jones offers an analysis that essentially complements Innes' claims about the
speaker's treatment of his friend. While she suggests that the "central focus" of the
young friend sonnets is the speaker's effort to "celebrate a young male love-object" (47),
Duncan-Jones goes so far as to declare that "in some sonnets, [the speaker] seems to push
his idolatrous substitution of friend-worship for Christian worship to flamboyantly
blasphemous extremes" (49). Her charge of idolatry is certainly not an isolated reflection
on the speaker, judging by what Thomas O. Jones has to say about the character in
Renaissance Magic and Hermeticism in the Shakespeare Sonnets, He draws attention to
how the speaker "at times cries out to his Young Man in the same language a soul seeks
God" (95). Through the works of Innes, Duncan-Jones, and Jones, one comes to a
greater understanding of the considerable respect and reverence that the speaker shows
towards his companion.
In Shakespeare's poetry, the speaker's deference becomes apparent in many of the
sonnets, as in the concluding couplet of Sonnet 38. As the speaker brings this particular
sonnet to a close. the language attempts to privilege his patron: "Ifmy slight Muse do
please these curious days. I The pain be mine. but thine shall be the praise" (13-4). As
c\'idenccd by these lines. thc speakcr fa\'ors his friend at a personal cost. designing a
scenario in which "the praisc" goes to his friend while the dutiful speaker burdcns
himsclfwith the arduous toil or "The pain" for his friend's benetit. In Sonnct 39. thc
dcfercntial and sclf-sacrificing naturc ofthc speakcr comes to thc forcfront as well:
O. how thy worth with manncrs may I sing.
Whcn thou art all thc bettcr part of mc:
What can mine o\\'n praisc to minc 0\\'11 self bring.
And what is't hut mine own when I praise thee?
E\'Cn ll1r this. let us divided li\'C.
And our dear love lose name of single one,
That by this separation I may give
That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone.
0, absence, what a torment wouldst thou prove,
Were it not thy sour leisure gave sweet leave
To entertain the time with thoughts of love,
Which time and thoughts so sweetly dost deceive,
And that thou teachest how to make one twain
By praising him here who doth hence remain.
The opening line illustrates that the speaker's objective is to sing the praises of his
companion, thus paying the homage that he owes the man. Stephen Booth's analysis of
"the better part of me" in the second line "suggests [that the phrase means] 'my better
half" (198), thereby giving insight into the high esteem with which the speaker regards
his companion. Unfortunately, the speaker has trouble lauding the object of his
admiration due to the fact that he finds it dillicult to commend his companion's qualities
while simultaneously avoiding any self-boasting: "What can mine own praise to mine
own self bring, I And what is't but mine own when 1praise theeT (3-4) Booth indicates
that this inquiry can thus be interpreted as the speaker posing the question, "What good
can praise of myself ... do you" (198), suggesting that nothing good can result from the
fact that he cannot keep his praise for his friend separate from his own self-admiration.
The speaker's lament about being unable to properly honor his friend and eschc\\" selfpromotion points to his desirc to act chidly for his friend's benefit. Rather than
compromising his friend's praise by keeping it cntangled with his
0\\"11
self-praise, the
spcaker opts to cut himsclf off from his friend in the hopes that his parting will yield
morc fa\"orahlc henclits for the young man than he could e\"cr hopc to achic\"c through
articulatcd languagc: "let us di\"idcd li\"c, ' And our dcar kwc losc namc of single onc,
That by this separation I may give / That due to thee which thou deserv'st alone" (5-8).
By isolating himself from the young man, the speaker knows that he can give the man his
appropriate due. Even though the speaker realizes "what a torment wouldst [his friend's
absence] prove" to himself (9), he acknowledges that the dissemination of his friend's
praise is the greater good and therefore finds it perfectly acceptable and beneficial to
sever himself from his companion. In these particular sonnets and several others,
Shakespeare's speaker appears to be a person driven first and foremost by his loyalty to
his friend.
Given the speaker's penchant and expressed concern for carrying out those deeds
that benefit or assist his friend, the appearance of those moments in which the speaker
strives to obtain power comes across as quite a dramatic and radical shift in the speaker's
nature. Rather than exclusively depicting the speaker as a person who acts primarily for
the benefit of his friend, these sonnets put him in a position where he claims authority
and aspires to wield it. For example. consider Sonnet 19:
Devouring Time. blunt thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own swect brood:
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws.
And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood:
l\'lake glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets.
And do whatc'er thou wilt, swill-footed Time,
To the wide world and all her fading swcets:
But 1 forbid thee one most heinous crime.
O. carve not with thy hours my love's fair brow.
Nor draw no lines there with thine antiquc pen.
Him in thy course untainted do allo\\'.
For beauty's pattern to succeeding men.
'\'et do thy worst. old Time: despite thy wrong.
1\ 1y love shall in my verse e\'Cr live young.
6
The central focus of this sonnet is the destructive effects of Time on the world and its
inhabitants. Among other things, the speaker establishes the potency of Time by calling
attention to how he has the ability to "blunt ... the lion's paws, / And make the earth
devour her own sweet brood; / Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws, / and
burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood" (1-4) Not only does the speaker represent
Time as a formidable force by virtue of how he can enfeeble living creatures, but he also
transforms Time into a more powerful being than such commanding beasts as the lion
and the tiger. Finally, in order to intensify the detrimental and far-reaching faculties or
Time, the speaker highlights Time's widespread destructiveness by rendering the whole
world's "own sweet brood" vulnerable to Time's might, thus showing that Time can
effortlessly crush all of Earth's denizens and not just lions or tigers.
Even more impressive is how the speaker describes Time's domination over the
mystical phoenix. This creature is no trivial adversary. as Booth points out it is "a
legendary bird, said to live several centuries, then to consume itself in fire. and then to
rise from its own ashes ready to repeat the cycle/orever" (162. emphasis mine). Clearly.
a supernatural being like the phoenix is more formidable than mortal lions or tigers due to
its seemingly perpetual powers of regeneration. That Time is able to vanquish the
phoenix is a compelling concept: the speaker establishes that Time is an entity powerful
enough to overthrow a creature that would otherwise "repeat the cycle [of regeneration 1
forcvcr." Accentuating the destructivc capacity ofTimc is the speaker's dcclaration that
Timc will "burn the long-lived phocnix in her blood," Booth illustrates that there arc
sC\'Cfal ways to interprct the phrase "in her blood:" and all ofthcse meanings creatc
dramatic imprcssions of Time"s crushing strength. In onc mcaning. thc description of
7
Time burning the phoenix "in her blood" could denote that Time has the ability to mow
down this creature while she possesses energy and a capacity for action or, in Booth's
own words, "while she is still young and vigorous" (162). Time's might is such that he
does not have to wait for the phoenix to become old or feeble; it possesses the ability to
obliterate the phoenix in her energetic prime. Another interpretation of "in her blood"
communicates that Time takes it upon himself to bum the phoenix "while the blood still
moves in her veins" (162), which also points to Time's aggressive and straightforward
march towards the annihilation of this creature. Booth's third interpretation of the phrase
is simple enough, as he construes "in her blood" to mean that Time will destroy the
phoenix "brutally, violently" (162). In his descriptions of Time's triumphant ascendance
over the phoenix and the other forms of life, the speaker fashions the persona of Time
into a deadly agent of devastation, as I-Ielen Vendler argues in The Art ofShakespeare's
SOl1l1ets: ''The might of Time [in this sonnet] is emphasized ... in other sonnets, Time
docs what is natural to it ... but here it does, in thc first quatrain, exclusively ullnatural
things. de-lionizing the lion. de-tigcrizing thc tigcr. dc-matcrnalizing Mothcr Earth. and
dc-i mmortalizing thc phocnix" (125).
As omnipotcnt as "Dcvouring Timc" may appcar, thc spcakcr ncverthclcss
assumcs the mantic of authority and pits himself against Time. Rathcr than acquiescc to
Timc's apparcnt omnipotcnce. thc speaker audaciously confronts him and orders him to
obcy his \vill. Marc to the point. the speaker c0111mands Time to Icavc thc young fricnd
alone. and his choice of words is particularly notcworthy: "But I forbid thcc one
heil10us crilllc. /
O. carve not with thy hours my lovc's fair brow. / .\'01' drOll'
110
lIIosl
lincs
thac \I'ith thinc onriquc PCI1" tS-1 O. emphasis minc). The phrasc "1110st heinous crimc"
s
indicates that, at least from the perspective of the speaker, Time's act ofliterally writing
on or carving "lines [or wrinkles] on [the] friend's face" (Duncan-Jones, 19) with an
authorial "antique pen" is the worst act that is in his power, creating the impression that
Time's role as a pen-wielding writer has greater destructive potential than his
antagonistic dealings with mankind, animals, or mystical beings. Therefore, Time's
efforts in the field of writing threaten to eclipse the authority of the speaker's poetic
compositions.
Instead of focusing wholly on the young man, however, the speaker concentrates
on preventing Time from wielding more authorial authority than himself while
simultaneously attempting to enhance his own literary prowess. The sonnet becomes
something greater than a mere vessel for the young man's praise as it turns into the means
by which the speaker can augment his authority in the realm of writing. In the case of
Sonnet 19, the speaker attempts to procure a role of uncontested authorial power as he
directly orders Time to abstain from using the iconic instrument of the writer: the pen.
Time's possession of this writing implement turns him into a literary rival of the speaker.
The speaker even goes one step further in his quest for unchallenged power in the licld of
\\Titing by directly demeaning the value of Time's pen. By referring to Time's pen as
bcing "antiquc," the speaker suggests that Timc uscs "an old pcn" (Duncan-Jones, 148),
thereby discrcditing Time as a \\Titer through thc implication that his means of writing
and crcation arc outdatcd and lack inn()\'ation. Alternatc meanings of thc word "antiquc"
also work to invalidatc thc worth of Timc' s pcn and posit thc spcaker as the superior
writer. Duncan-Jones indicates that an "antiquc pen" may also be "one that produccs
grotcsquc" rcsults (148), a dcscription that may stand as thc speakcr's critiquc that Timc
9
cannot compose the kinds of lasting works of beauty or artistry that the speaker can. In
Kenneth Muir's analysis of Time in the sonnet sequence, he indicates that "Renaissance
iconography ... depicted [Time] both as the destroyer and as the revealer, Truth being
Time's daughter. In the Sonnets, Shakespeare is concerned only with Time the
destroyer-the enemy of youth. beauty and love" (43). By portraying Time as nothing
more than a brutish destroyer who can only employ a "grotesque" pen or writing style for
destructive effects, the speaker insinuates that Time lacks the rudimentary knowledge to
compose "verse" that can express poetic ingenuity or represent a subject like the young
man. Because he strives to dismiss and nullify Time's ability to utilize a pen. it is clear
that the speaker desires to render his literary opponent effectively powerless and
subsequently stand out as a writer who possesses more authorial force than Time.
In the closing couplet. the speaker realizes that Time may deny his command and
continue writing with his hannful pen. Reflecting on the nature of the speaker's "war
with time." Joyce Sutphen perceives that the narrator is locked in combat with a foe who
is "continually destroying and defacing" everything around him (200). Regardless of the
realization that Time may continue to "do [his 1worst:' the speaker secures power for
himself and his sonnets by emphasizing that he has the capability to write poetry that can
last forever and "preserve the pattern that flesh has forgotten" (Vendler 126), thus
nullifying "Devouring Timel's]"" ability to "De\·our.·· No matter what Time has in store
for the speaker and his friend. the speaker assures his rival that his "love shall in [thc
spcakcr" s1\"Cfse cver livc young" ( 14). Thc rami fications of this particular Iinc arc
considerable. as it rcprcscnts thc spcakcr's acquisition of authority and ultimate triumph
oYer Timc in the sphcrc of \\Titing. Sincc thc spcakcr may not be able to prcvcnt Timc
10
from using his "antique pen" to commit the "one most heinous crime," he reinforces the
integrity of his poetry and utterly annihilates Time's presence in the field of writing by
stating that the composition of his own literary creations is such that they will not fall or
acquiesce to Time's supremacy. Because the speaker stresses that the contents of his
poetry will "ever live young," it stands to reason that the speaker aims to empower his
poetry by pointing out that the everlasting nature of his works refutes Time's supposed
sovereignty and thus posits the speaker as the foremost authority in the realm of writing.
While Time may never let the world and its inhabitants escape from his unremitting grip,
Vendler finds that the speaker understands that "defeat conceded in one sphere (the
commanding of Time) is avoided by triumph in another (living verser (126). The
speaker finds himself able to supplant Time's victory by using his skills as a writer to
breathe everlasting life into his vcrsc and by making thc crucial distinction that not cvcn
Timc can compromisc or ovcrcomc his compositions. Although Time can "do whate'cr
[it] wilt ... / To the widc world and all hcr fading sweets" (6-7), the speakcr employs thc
sonnct in a manncr that allows him to instill his work with an indomitablc and pcrpetual
authority.
In addition to thc spcakcr's cmpowcrmcnt in Sonnet 19. another sonnet featurcs a
conflict bctwcen thc spcakcr and Timc in which thc spcaker makcs a furthcr bid for
empowcnnent. Thc picce in qucstion. Sonnet 123. scts a combative tone as thc speaker
aggressively defies Time's far-reaching intluencc:
No. Time. thou shalt not boast that 1do change.
Thy pyramids built up with newer might
To me arc nothing novel. nothing strange:
They arc but dressings of a tl-.,rmer sight.
Our dates arc brief. and therefore we admire
11
What thou dost foist upon us that is old,
And rather make them born to our desire
Than think that we before have heard them told.
Thy registers and thee I both defy,
Not wond'ring at the present, nor the past;
For thy records and what we see doth lie,
Made more or less by thy continual haste.
This I do vow, and this shall ever be:
I will be true despite thy scythe and thee.
Time desires to have a particular impact upon mankind, but the speaker refuses to grant
Time this authority over his being. The speaker concedes that he is just as vulnerable to
Time's influence as the rest of the human race because of the fact that "Our dates are
brief' (5. emphasis mine). After demonstrating that he is as susceptible to a brief
existence as anybody else on the planet. the speaker then reveals the impact that Time
hopes to have upon humanity. Namely. the speaker declares that Time works to impose
representations of the past upon the human race. Responding to its collectively brief
mortality. mankind would transform Time' s imposed representations of the past into
fresh objects of interest: "Our dates are brief. and therefore we admire / What [Time}
dos/foist "POIl
liS
that is old, / And rather make them born to our desire / Than think that
we before have heard them told" (5-8, emphasis mine), Understanding the connotations
of the phrase "foist upon us" is "ital to comprehending the speaker's attitude towards
Time's actions. Duncan-Jones offers a negati\'C reading ofTime's behavior as she shows
that to "foist" these images "upon us" is essentially to "palm [them] off on us" or to
"fasten [them] on us unwarrantably" (356). Booth points to the deceitful meaning of the
word "1\.1ist." which he notes is '\1riginally a dicing term meaning literally 'to palm.' 'to
cheat by surreptitiously substituting
1~11se
dice 1\.1r true'" (416), Given that the phrase
12
"foist upon us" has these unfavorable overtones, one can see that the speaker finds fault
with the deceptions that Time plays on humanity. In particular, the speaker takes
umbrage at the idea that even though Time "unwarrantably" or deceitfully "foists" these
elements of the past upon humans, the people respond by praising these objects as
original innovations instead of recognizing them as things that "we before have heard"
and experienced. To him, it appears that people under Time's influence lose their
autonomy as they conform to Time's authority and transform his representations of the
past into novel and praiseworthy objects.
While mankind does not seem to object to what Time does, the speaker sees
frime's act of forcing past images upon people as reprehensible because of the subsequent
manner in which mortality-plagued humans mechanically abandon their subjectivity.
treating the regurgitated past as a new and com forting novelty. Throughout this sonnet.
one can observe that the speaker attempts to ascend to a position of autonomous power
by adhering to his own viewpoint and divesting Time of the sway that he has over
humans' perceptions by "foist[ing] upon [people] that [which] is old." According to the
speaker. Time would apparently be in a bragging mood if the speaker would submit to his
influence and end up changing over the course of time. As much as Time would enjoy
such a scenario in which the speaker casts unwarranted praise upon recreations of the
past. the speaker adamantly seeks to deprive Time of the pleasure of witnessing his
subjection
to Time's influencc: "No. Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change" (I).
.
~
To ilJustrate his renunciation of Time's po\\"er. the speaker cites the example of
nc\\ly created pyramids that hearken back to previously created monuments. Rather than
subject himselfw Time's authority by l3vishing praise upon one of Timc's regurgitatcd
images, the speaker identifies the new pyramids as nothing more than unoriginal
replications of structures from a bygone era: "Thy pyramids built up with newer might /
To me are nothing novel, nothing strange; / They are but dressings of a former sight" (24). Instead of letting Time's recreation of the past compromise his perception of the
world, he calls the recreation of the pyramids for what they really are: an imitative
creation that cannot convey the same sense of novelty, wonder, or innovation as the
original product. The speaker's dismissal of the new pyramids represents a reach for
autonomy as he refuses to let Time dominate his judgment. Additionally, he continues to
gain power for himselfby shrugging off Time's dominance via an outright rejection of
Time and his chronicles: "Thy registers and thee I both defy ... / For thy records and
what we see doth lie" (9, II). Duncan-Jones shows that the "registers" in question are of
considerable significance, since they represent "both written documents and monuments
like the pyramids" (356). which is to say that the "registers" encompass both the greater
and lesser designs of Time. The speaker's far-reaching renunciation of Time's major and
minor devices-as well as his rejection of Time himself-thus stands as an empowering
maneuver that keep him from "wond' ring at the present ... [and] the past" (10). As a
consequence, Time can no longer confuse his perspective about the present and bygone
eras. Appropriately enough. Gerald Ilammond identifies the speaker's actions as his way
of removing himselffrom the sphere of acquiescent humanity and placing himself in an
autonomous state: "the [speaker] transcends common humanity. not bcing taken in by
timc's pyramids or time's rcgisters" (217). The speakcr's transccndence docs not occur
naturally or without impctus, but through a conscious rcjcction of Time and a dcliberate
mO\'cmcnt towards autonomy.
14
As Sonnet 123 draws to a close, the speaker uses the concluding couplet to
reinforce his quest for autonomy, as it is not enough for the speaker to isolate himself
from Time's deceptive influences. His self-empowerment originates from his pledge to
adhere to and act upon his individualistic ideals and sentiments, thereby preventing
himself from falling under the influence of the deception-breeding Time. Accordingly,
the speaker eternally vows not to be changed by his antagonist: "This I do vow, and this
shall ever be: / I will be true despite [Time's] scythe and [Time itself]" (13-14). While
the word "true" pertains to his loyalty or "fidelity" to the young man (Vendler 525), the
speaker accomplishes much more than mcrely praising his friend or swearing loyalty to
him. By taking measures to remain faithful to his personal convictions and never
compromise his subjectivity, the speaker attains unchallenged and unchangeable
autonomy for thc rest of his existence, a mancuver that quashes Time' s oncc-potent
dominion over the speaker's mind. Along those lines, Sutphen observes that the
speaker's conduct is evidencc of how he strives to "assert [his] constancy" as "He
cngages ovcrtly in this combat with time" (209.201). Moreover. the speaker placcs
himself in a position apart from other individuals. which stands as another tcstament to
his endcavor to obtain sovereign power. In an important observation. Vendler notcs that
this sonnet servcs as proof that the speaker makes a movc to "[ separate] himself from the
we ofthc common herd" while humanity continucs to havc its subjectivity subverted and
"deccivcd by 'novclty'" (522). As such. Sonnct 123 stands out as an example of how thc
spcakcr can usc thc sonnct to seize unmatchcd authority. as c\'idcnccd by thc final
('utC(1!11e of this confrontation with Timc.
15
While the speaker empowers himself to triumph over Time in Sonnets 19 and
123, he finds a way to surpass his successful human counterparts as well as Fortune in
Sonnet 29:
When, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love rememb'red such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
As the piece begins, the speaker experiences a distraught time in his life in which he is
"in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes ... [and] beweeping [his] outcast state" (1-2).
It appears that he is not as fortunate as his rivals. considering that he desires to be "like to
one more rich in hope. I Featured like him. like him. with friends possessed. I Desiring
this man' s art. and that man' s scope" (5-7). In order to cIim b up from this lowly state.
the speaker takes advantage of the sonnet to pull himself out of the depths. If the man
stays in a static position. it would be easy for the speaker to remain down in the dumps
and in an inferior position to the other men in his society. However. the speaker bolsters
his morale by actively drawing his thoughts upon his companion: "Haply I think on thee.
and then my state. / Like to the lark at break of day arising! From sullen earth. sings
hymns at heaven' s gate" (10-12). Analyzing this passage. Hammond observes
16
significance in the imagery that the speaker uses to describe the results of using his
friend's image to reinvigorate himself psychologically. Specifically, Hammond calls
attention to the depiction of the lark breaking free from the "sullen earth":
· .. the metaphor provides a release from the oppressive man-centredness
of the octave: a world peopled by the rich, famous, and neglected suddenly
finds a new, bird's-eye perspective, and the sheer pleasure of singing for
the sake of it raises the bird to the heaven's level where the man in line 3
had calledfruitlessly up to it. The idea of the outcast [speaker] is the
same-a lark in the sky is an excellent figure of isolation-bur [the
~peaker 's] "state" has been transformed . .. The effect of the one image
of the lark is total ... a triumphant vindication of the outcast [speaker].
(31, emphasis mine)
Because he deliberately invokes a specific mental image in order to subdue his ordeal, the
speaker appears to be interested in the pursuit of psychological self-empowerment. It is
precisely when the speaker is at his emotional zenith-that is, when he is "in these
thoughts ... almost despising" himself-that he "haply" reflects on the young companion
for the fortification he desires (9). The speaker is only able to acquire a positive
perspective and the strength to overcome his "fruitless" circumstances when he conjures
up the mentally invigorating image of his companion. As I-Iammond notes, the end result
of the speaker's psychological strategy is that he obtains the same kind of freedom and
power as the lark who rises above the earth where he is lowly and encounters heavenly
bliss.
Evcn more importantly, his poetic ruminations about the companion allow him to
claim additional powcr as the speaker subvcrts the cstablished class system. \\'hen the
speaker directs his thoughts upon his friend in the sonnet. he gains access to untold
amounts of (metaph0fical) wealth via his treasured memories: "For thy sweet \ewe
17
rememb'red such wealth brings / That then I scorn to change my state with kings" (1314). His reflections upon his friend serve as the means that place him in so high a
position that his newly found wellbeing overshadows the state of kings, the individuals
who symbolize affluence and authority. Because the speaker is able to gain
psychological supremacy over monarchs, he is logically in a higher position than the
other men who previously outclassed him, the men whose "ar(' and "scope" he formerly
envied. Booth and Duncan-Jones establish that the phrase "more rich in hope" denotes
that the speaker's superiors possess more prospects and wealth (Booth 180; DuncanJones 168). Despite the apparent advantages that the speaker's antagonists enjoy, their
high rank in the class system becomes obsolete once the speaker surpasses the authority
of kings. Moreover, the multiple definitions of the word "state" suggest just how allencompassing the speaker's newly acquired power is. Booth indicates that the speaker's
"state" in line 14 could pertain to a vast variety of conditions, including those dealing
with "social. economic, mental. emotional. or spiritual" matters (180). As such, the
speaker's grasp for power elevates him above monarchs and their inferiors in several
important spheres. Most fascinatingly, in his newfound state within the newly subverted
class system, the speaker is no longer shackled by the "disgrace" in which Fortune placed
him. Since the speaker's memories of "sweet loyc" place him in the same triumphant
mood as the lark who "sings hymns at hea\'en's gate:' he prevails over Fortune who once
plunged the speaker into "disgrace" and an "outcast state." Ultimately. neither men nor
Fortune can claim superiority over the speaker. since he uses poetry in a way that imbues
him with the pO\\'er to stand high above everyone and everything.
18
Whereas Sonnets 29 focuses on the speaker's social status, Sonnet 55 makes use
of a much more expansive topic. With a sprawling backdrop that contains opulence and
grandeur as well as the horrors of war, the speaker takes advantage of commanding and
magnificent imagery in order to seize the kind of authority that he covets:
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this pow'rful rhyme,
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone, besmeared with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
'Gainst death and all oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth: your praise shall still lind room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So, till the judgment that yourself arise.
You Iive in this. and dwell in lovers' eyes.
Because of his drive for enduring literary powcr, thc speaker juxtaposes his writing
against impressive memorializing objects that arc emblcmatic of affluence and honor
sovcreign rulers. Specifically. he refcrs to "marble" and "the gilded monuments / Of
princes" (1-2). Duncan-Joncs notes that these itcms are suggestivc ofthc "gilded tombs
of monarchs in marblc chambers" (220). By downplaying the lavishness and majesty
associated with thcsc royal mcmorials. the spcakcr aims to makc his litcrary might sccm
that much morc imprcssi\'C and cnduring in comparison: "Not marble, nor thc gildcd
monumcnts / Of princes. shall outli\'C this po\\"rful rhymc" (1-2). Thc spcakcr's
asscrtion about thc rich monumcnts' collcctivc inability to "outlivc this pow'rful rhymc"
robs thcsc valuable itcms ofthcir secmingly pennancnt capacity to function as lasting
tributes to the deceased, thus making it seem as if his "pow'rful rhyme" has more lasting
power by contrast. Additionally, the fact that the princes' "gilded monuments" have less
longevity than a mere writer's literary creations reverses the power relations between
authoritative princes and the non-monarchical protagonist. The devaluing of the "gilded
monuments" subsequently degrades the high rank of the princes with whom they are
associated, while the speaker's claim that he can compose a "pow'rful rhyme" that can
last longer than royal monuments serves to elevate his authority and faculties. By
creating an opposition between the monuments and his poetry in the first quatrain, the
speaker clearly shows his intent to acquire empowerment as a writer.
To some degree. the speaker does discuss the effects of his writing on the young
companion's status, which is to say that he "shall shine more bright in these contents /
Than unswept stone. besmeared with sluttish time" (3-4). Nevertheless. as Olga L.
Valbuena indicates in her analysis, Sonnet 55 places more emphasis on the speaker's
attempts to enhance his power than his treatment of the young man. After writing that
"the speaker asserts for his poetry the power to surpass in timelessness and quality all
institutions and edifices."' Valbuena compellingly notes that the speaker's quest to
empower his poetry becomes the central focus of the sonnet and ultimately "blots and
eclipses the unnamed figure" of the young friend (333). Considering how the speaker
focuses his attention on the capability of "these contents" to outlast memorials,
monuments. and other pieces of "unswept stone," it appears that Valbuena is correct in
observing that the speaker's objective in Sonnet 55 is self-empowennent.
Also \H'1rth looking at is the war imagery that surt:1ces in this sonnet. The shift
from the first quatrain to the second quatrain is a startling and dramatic one. considering
~o
the progression from opulent objects to the devastation of war, but this section of the
sonnet is no less enlightening and insightful. In this grislier segment, the speaker paints a
vivid picture of the desolation that war leaves, reflecting on how "wasteful war shall
statues overturn, / And broils root out the work of masonry" (5-6). Simply enough, the
speaker is intent on shO\",ing the destructive effects that war can inflict on the world. For
instance, war has the power to obliterate an artist's creative endeavors, as evidenced by
the presence of the fallen statues. In addition to the annihilation of artistic creations, the
destroyed "work of masonry" symbolizes how war can destroy durable structures that are
meant to endure, since Booth indicates that the phrase "work of masonry" pertains to
"work made of stone" and that the word "Work is particularly apt here because it was a
military term for fortification" (228). After the speaker firmly establishes war's potential
to destroy artistic and sturdy objects, he depicts war's inability to have a destructive
impact on his writing. Boldly invoking the figure of Mars, the God of War, the speaker
strives to fortify his literary might by proclaiming that "Nor Mars his sword nor war's
quick fire shall burn / The living record of your memory" (7-8). The speaker claims
literary authority in order to render the utterly destructive Mars unable to affect "the
living record" that the speaker constructs. Even as "Mars his sword" and "war's quick
fire" project intimidating figures, the speaker illustrates that his authorial might is so
considerable that not even the supreme manifestation of \\'ar itself can take away from his
"pow'rful rhyme." Although it is not difficult for war to obliterate the aforementioned
"statues" and "work of masonry." the pennanence that the speaker ascribes to his writing
preycnts his efforts from experiencing the same unt:lvorablc end as the others' works of
21
art or the sturdy labor of masons, which in tum implants a degree of enduring strength
into the speaker's "living record."
Even though the speaker establishes that he has the authorial power that can make
his work outlast the monuments and survive the destruction left behind by war, the
question still stands as to how the speaker's power comes into being in the first place.
While Valbuena notes that the speaker "asserts" or declares power for his poetry, the
speaker is far more active and tactical than he appears in Valbuena's analysis, as he
accomplishes more than merely asserting that his poetry has authority. Instead, he
employs a specific strategy to obtain enduring power as a writer. As seen in the first
eight lines, time and war have purely detrimental effects on mankind's works. In order to
acquire enduring authorial power and prevent his poetry from falling to ruin, the speaker
looks to regeneration in order to counteract degeneration, namely, the regeneration or
reproduction ofthc human race. By writing the kind of poetry that he knows will "dwell
in lovers' cycs" (14) or appeal to cach succcssivc generation of lovers in mankind. the
speakcr can sccurc cnduring powcr by constructing sonncts with subjcct mattcr that will
pcrpctually find an apprcciativc audicncc in thc constantly regcnerating lincs of human
desccndants. Essentially. his poetry negates the threat of destruction by means of the
promise of new life. Thus. to secure his literary power. the speaker constructs his sonnets
spccifically for "thc cycs of all posterity! That wcar this world out to thc cnding doom"
(11-12). In analyzing the phrase in which thc spcakcr declares that his subjcct mattcr \\'ill
"dwcll in 100crs' cycs:' Pcquigncy indicatcs that thc speakcr has future lo\'crs in mind as
his specific audience as he constructs thcsc sonnets:
.,.,
Sonnet 55 claims to do more than extract an essence from the youth ....
The poet lover also specifies the fit audience when he writes, in 55.14,
[that the young friend will] here and forever "dwell in lovers' eyes." The
anticipated readership, both contemporaneous and in time to come, will
consist oflovers, because it isthey who will be attuned to and engrossed
by the erotic feelings that motivate and suffuse this tribute. (Such 58,
emphasis mine)
The speaker stands to lose authorial power if either time or war subjects his poetry to
oblivion. Creating poetry for an "anticipated readership, both contemporaneous and in
time to come," however, is the means by which he can gain ceaseless readership and the
authorial authority he craves; he exploits the human race's survival to ensure his poetry's
survival. Vendler concurs with Pequigney's notion that the speaker has posterity in mind
as he creates his artistic works, as she observes that "posterity reads a written record:
YOllr praise shall . .. fil1d room . .. il1 the eyes ofall posterity" (269). In one of Duncan.Jones· readings of the sonnet. she goes so far as to conclude that the authorial power that
the speaker acquires is so influential that his sonnets will actually inspire people to keep
the human race alive, as "Lovers will see [the young friend] in this verse, and take Ithe
young friend] as a model" (220). This reading gives the impression that lovers who find
inspiration in the speaker's sonnets will bring about a new generation of lovers, who in
turn will be inspired by this poetry and bring about another wave of lo\'ers, and so on and
so forth. Although time and war pose a deadly menace to the fruits of mankind's labor.
the speaker's strategy for taking advantage of posterity enables him to subdue these
daunting obstacles and attain lasting authorial power.
As seen in the previously described sonnets, the speaker encounters and clashes
\\'ith such lllnnidablc and worthy adversaries as Time. Fortune. and
~Iars,
Certainly. the
voiced narrator of Shakespeare's sonnet sequence is not afraid to confront an astounding
array of antagonistic forces, including a truly fearsome individual in Sonnet 107, the
seemingly indomitable force of Death:
Not mine own fears nor the prophetic soul
Of the wide world dreaming on things to come
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,
And the sad augurs mock their own presage,
Incertainties now crown themselves assured,
And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
Now with the drops of this most balm y time
My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,
Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme,
While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes:
And thou in this shalt find thy monument,
When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.
In this sonnet. the clever narrator deals with Death in a manner that allows him to
psychologically empO\\'er himself and throw olT the shackles oHear. As the sonnet
begins, the speaker's tension and anxiety manifest themselves clearly. Chiefly, he is
afraid of his companion's inevitable demise. The speaker wishes to achieve control over
the situation, but gloomily finds that he is unable to do so. Even more daunting to the
speaker is the realization that no force outside of himself can exert any influence over his
young friend's mortality: "Not mine own fears nor the prophetic soul / Of the wide world
dreaming on things to come / Can yet the lease of my true love control" (1-3). Both the
world at large and the speaker are helpless to do anything about the companion's
inescapable 1:1te: the speaker must deal with the unsettling reality of a situation in which
his friend is "forfeit to a confined doom" (4). To highlight the speaker's unease over his
)'l1lJl1g friend's future, Booth points to four possible and relevant dclinitil1ns of"doom."
In addition to the more obvious definition of "ruin, destruction, [or] death," the word
"doom" could also mean "law [or] decree" (344), thereby pointing to the inescapable law
of nature that renders the young friend mortal. Other definitions of "doom" include
"destiny" or "sentence of punishment" (344), which are two more possible meanings that
./
point to the confinement that the young man faces and the speaker fears.
Despite the unavoidability of the young friend's "doom," the speaker is unwilling
to relinquish a sense of control over events to a dismal destiny. Instead, he opts to seck
the light instead of dwelling in the darkness. Whereas the inevitability of death at first
disrupts the speaker to the point where he can only remain a victim to his "fears" about
his companion's life or fruitlessly reflect on the inability of "the prophetic soul/Of the
wide world" to playa part in saving the friend, the speaker moves to empower himself by
casting his thoughts towards images of peace and serenity, thus nullifying the menace of
Death's omnipotent power as the speaker puts his mind at case. Among other things. he
reflects on "the sad augurs [who] mock their own presage" (6) and the "Uncertainties
[that] now crown themselves assured" (7). The speaker's recollections of the "sad
augurs" and the "Uncertainties" are positive and psychologically uplifting ones, as
Duncan-Jones indicates. She classifies "the sad augurs [whol mock their own presage"
as clairvoyants who joyfully disavow their initially pessimistic visions. describing these
individuals as "Sombre or gloomy soothsayers" who cast aside their angst and "laugh at
their 0\\11 [gluml predictions" (324). Additionally. she defines the "Uncertainties [that]
now cro\\'n themselycs assured" as "outcomes of which the world was unsure Ithat] are
now ... brought to a happy consummation" (324). In other words. the speaker t.akes
delight in seeing thc worrisomc "h1ccrtainties" sUITl1 llllding the outcome of\\orId c\ents
give way to satisfying and reassuring conclusions. Consequently, his concentration on
comforting resolutions and the termination of gloomy predictions indicate that the
speaker aims to divert his thoughts away from his "fears" of "a confined doom" and
direct them toward promising and uplifting notions.
His overall intention, then, is to move away from disabling turmoil and towards
the encouraging prospect of a "peace [that] proclaims olives of endless age" (8), or as
Duncan-Jones interprets the line, a "peace ... [that] announces further, unending, phases
of peace" (324). Accordingly, the speaker concentrates on these reassuring and
comforting images in order to overcome the grim certainty of his friend's death. His
newfound train of thought counteracts the despair and gloom that accompany Death: the
depiction of the speaker's mental transformation then represents his attempt to
psychologically cmpower himself and drain Death of his destructivc authority by
focusing on peacc and possibility instead of doom and confincment. The speakcr's
fixation on tranquility allows him to takc full stock of the pleasurablc things that his
prcviously fcarful statc made inacccssibic. Specifically, his mental maneuver givcs him
the power to take dclight in the pleasurable qualitics of his companion, as cvidenccd by
how the admirable attributcs of his friend bccome accessible to the speaker: "Now with
the drops of this most halmy tillle I My love looks fresh" (9-10. emphasis mine). The
spcaker can "now" see the beauty of his friend in the "most balmy timc" after he uses the
positivc imagery of the "sad augurs mock[ingj their own presage." thc "Incertainties now
crownl ing] themselves assured." and the "peace ... of endless age" to nulli fy Dcath' s
cvcr-prcsent gloom. As a result. Shakcspearc's
narrat(~r
does not appcar to bc merely an
orator of praise for his young friend. but he also appcars t(1 make an attempt to achicyc
~6
clarity, self-fortification, and psychological empowennent through the lines of this
sonnet.
Most interestingly, it is precisely after the speaker gains power over his inner state
that he uses the sonnet to stake a claim for literary power. He is not solely content with
wielding control over his own perception and attitude, judging by how he strives to
achieve absolute authority in the authorial sphere. After he finds the ability to put aside
his "own fears" in "this most balmy time:' the speaker notes that Death surrenders to
some remarkable aspect of his character. Spccifically, he claims that Death is powerless
against the untouchable authority that he employs in the realm of literature and that Death
ultimately submits to the speaker's might: "Death to me subscribes, I Since, spite of him,
I'll live in this poor rhymc" (10-11). In these crucially important lines, the speaker aims
to increase his Icvel of power by emphasizing that Death is comparatively weaker than he
is in the literary sphere, depicting Death as having no choice but to recognize his
supremacy in the realm of writing. Normally, Death holds an unchallenged dominion
ovcr cvcry pcrson bccausc of the simple fact that cvcry living crcaturc expires, likc the
companion who is "forfeit to a confincd doom." Despite thc vicc-like grip that Death
cnjoys ovcr humanity, the spcaker rcduces Death to a submissivc figure who acquiesccs
to what thc spcaker can accomplish through literature. namely, sccuring evcrlasting lifc
via a futurc readership that will gaze upon a litcrary "monument'" that will be "more
lasting than thc crcsts and tombs of tyrants" (Vcndler 454). As a result ofrcndcring
De~1th's
secmingly incscapablc omnipotencc null and void in the Iitcrary sphcre. thc
speakcr imbues himself with authorial power as he cstablishcs that his poctry cannot be
compromised by the seemingly unstoppable figure of Death, who is now reduced to the
role of a submissive inferior.
What makes the speaker's assertion of power in this sonnet even more remarkable
is the modifier that he uses to describe his work: "poor." On the surface, it seems as if
the speaker's use of the word "poor" to describe his "rhyme" is a gesture of humility or
possibly a self-deprecating remark. Duncan-Jones even declares that the poorness of his
rhymes "somewhat detracts from" what his poctry accomplishes (324). Rcgardless, his
poetry" s poorncss does not scrve to "detract" from its power nor does it give the speaker
an air of humbleness or self-deprccation. Instead, the speaker uses this choice of words
to make himself seem far morc powcrful than Dcath. As Jamcs Winny points out in his
analysis, it is important to realizc that "Thc valuation which thc pact scts on his work is
not always to be taken scriously" (63). In asscssing thc poorncss ofthc spcakcr's
writing, Vendler notcs that "The grcatest topsy-turvy rcversal ... occurs when Dcath ...
doffs his hat. so to speak, to thc simplc pact and his 'poor' rhymc .... Thc rcversal of
power decisivcly revcrses thc importancc ofthc poor rhyme, so that it can justifiably be
callcd a mOlll1l11el1l of supcrior survival power" (456). Thc spcaker' s Iitcrary might is so
potcnt that his "rhymc" docs not have to bc "cxcellcnt" or even mercly "good" to makc
Dcath his submissivc infcrior: it only takcs a "poor rhymc" from the speakcr to make it
possiblc for his pac try to stand the test of time and for Dcath to "subseribc" to his rival.
To put it anothcr way. the speaker is kecn to show that the pcrennially powcrful Death is
no match for his "poor rhyme," which gives the impression that the speaker's literary
might is still considerahle even when he produces "poor" results, seeing as ho\\' his
unexceptil~nal
etlorts em ::nsure his eternal presence in literature and thwart Death.
28
Death, on the other hand, comes across as comparatively weaker than the speaker,
considering that Death can only exert his might over a seemingly unimpressive group of
people, the "dull and speechless tribes" (12). In short, the speaker's incorporation of
Death in Sonnet 107 represents the means by which he can install himself in an
authoritative position in the realm of writing that enables his efforts to endure long after
"the tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent" (14).
In conclusion, Shakespeare's sonnet sequence takes on a fascinating quality as
one observes the speaker's aspirations for power. There is far more under the surface of
these sonnets than one man's show of reverence, devotion. and fealty towards his upperclass patron. Instead, the speaker reveals himself as a person who uses his sonnets to
assert an authoritative position and achievc rccognition and immortality. Interestingly, as
this aspcct of thc speakcr emcrgcs, further questions about Shakespeare's sonnets surface,
such as why thc speaker's self-empowermcnt tactics show up more prominently in the
young man sonnets than in thc dark lady sonnets. Thc spcakcr's push for authorial
authority occurs in thc young man sonncts, but thc topic of literary powcr ncvcr surfaccs
in thc dark lady sonnets. Sonnet 146, the onc sonnct in thc dark lady sequencc that
relates to intcrnal empowcrmcnt. docs not depict the dark lady but addresses the
spcakcr's soul (Duncan-Jones 408). Thc ovcrall abscnce of cmpowermcnt thcmes in the
dark lady sonncts may be thc rcsult of "/\ strongly misogynistic bias ... in thc scquencc"
(Duncan-Joncs 48). Duncan-Jones notes that in addition to how Shakcspeare' s speakcr
"o\"Crturn[ s1thc convcntions 0 f morc than two hundrcd years of' Petrarc hanism ,,, (47) by
"culoe.izine........
a voune...... male fricnd, rather than a distant. idealizcd woman" (49) in the same
'-
manncr as "Pctrarch's Laura and Sidncy's Steib" (46), the sonnets also dcpict
29
"outrageous misogyny" as the speaker partakes in the "elaborate mockery of a woman
who is no more than a sexual convenience" (51). She suggests that the dark lady sonnets
portray the speaker as a man who "seems ... to brag to other men in his audience that he
can make satisfactory sexual use of a woman too stupid to realize that she is also being
set up as the butt of his wit" (48). Similarly, Winny calls attention to the predominantly
misogynist mindset of the speaker, noting that the speaker muses on "the moral
worthlessness of the [dark] lady" (92) and describes his male "friend [as] angelic" and
"the lady [as] diabolical" (117). This misogynist attitude not only occurs in the dark lady
sonnets, but throughout the entire sonnet sequence, as Duncan-Jones observes how the
speaker lauds the companion "for possessing female beauty without female instability"
(48) in Sonnet 20 and indicates that the friend "is anatomized as physiologically, as well
as morally, superior to ... female love-objects so overpraised" (48-9) in Sonnet 21.
Rodney Poisson's analysis also points to misogynist and homosocial trends in the
sonnets, as he notes that the speaker possesses "an established position" that leads him to
believe that womankind "cannot answcr the demands of friendship" (3). Considering
how the sonnets depict the young man in a positive light and cast disparagement upon the
dark lady and womanhood, it is reasonable to assume that the speaker docs not
incorporate the dark lady in his quest for cmpowerment because he does not want to draw
power from what amounts to a compromised and unreliable site of "female instability."
Instead. he structures his self-cmpowerment agenda around the "morally superior" and
masculinc figurc of the young companion. someonc who has more inherent honor in thc
speaker's eyes than a feminine figurc who mcrely functions "as thc butt of Ihis 1wit" and
as a lusty "sex ual c\.ln\'Cnience." l'lt imately, by way of its narrator. Shakespeare' s Sllnnct
30
sequence not only suggests that self-empowerment is possible through the medium of
poetry, but it also implies that such power is bound up in a masculine sphere.
31
Works Cited
Booth, Stephen, ed. Shake!lpeare 's Sonnets. New Haven: Yale UP, 2000.
Duncan-Jones, Katherine, ed. Shakespeare's Sonnets. The Arden Shakespeare. London:
Thomas Nelson, 1997.
Hammond, Gerald. The Reader and Shake!lpeare 's Young Man Sonnets. Totowa: Barnes
& Noble, 1981.
Innes, Paul. Shake!lpeare and the English Renaissance Sonnet: Verses of Feigning Love.
New York: St. Martin's P. 1997.
Jones, Thomas O. Renaissance Magic and Hermeticism in the Shake.\peare Sonnets:
Like Prayers Divine. Lewiston: Edwin Mellen P, 1995.
Muir. Kenneth. Shakespeare's Sonnets. London: George Allen & Unwin, 1979.
Pequigney. Joseph. "Sonnets 71-74: Texts and Contexts." Shakespeare's SOl1nets.·
Critical Essays. Ed. James Schiffer. New York: Garland. 2000. 285-304.
Such is My Love: A Stl((~}' ofShakespeare 's Sonl1ets. Chicago: U of Chicago P,
1985.
Poisson. Rodney. "Uncqual Fricndship: Shakcspcarc's Sonncts 18 - 126:' Xe)\' Essays
011
Shake.\peare 's Sonl1ets. Ed. Hilton Landry. Ncw York: AMS. 1976.
Shakcspcarc. William. "Thc Sonncts:' The SOl1nets al1d Sarrati\'C Poems. The Complete
SOli-Dramatic Poco:". Ed. William Burto. Ncw York: Signct Classic. 1989.
Sutphen. Joycc.... A datcless li\'cly hcat': Storing Loss in thc Sonncts:' Shakespeare's
."ollllets. Crilical Essays. Ed. James Schiffer. Ncw'York: Garland. 2000.
199-217.
Valbuena, Olga L. '''The dyer's hand': The Reproduction of Coercion and Blot in
Shakespeare's Sonnets." Shakespeare's Sonnets: Critical Essays. Ed. James
Schiffer. New York: Garland,2000. 325-45.
Vendler, Helen. The Art a/Shakespeare's Sonnets. Cambridge: Belknap P of Harvard
UP, 1997.
Wait, R. J. C. The Background to Shakespeare's Sonnets. London: Chatto & Windus,
1972.
Winny, James. The A1astehHistress: A Stud), o(Shake.\peare·s Sonnets. New York:
Barnes & Noble. 1968.
Vita
Duane Stephen Graner was born in Phillipsburg, New Jersey on December 30
th
,
1981 to Duane F. and Mitzi Graner.
After graduating from Phillipsburg High School, Duane began his undergraduate
studies at Lehigh University in August of2000. He majored in English and minored in
Theater. Duane obtained his B.A. in English in May of 2004 and began his graduate
studies at Lehigh University in August of the same year.
34
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TITLE