Wednesday, March 18, 2015


Alexander Pope (1688-1744)
During the waning days of Renaissance there had been some efforts to revive the mood and temperament of the Classical attitudes. The representatives of this Age primarily tend to imitate the trends of the Classical Age. Hence, this Age is referred to as Neoclassical Age (also referred to as Pseudo Classical Age). The authors of this period placed reason over intellect and society over individual. In short, the Neoclassical work is characterized by order, accuracy, and structure. With a sharp contrast to the Renaissance outlook, the Neoclassical writers portrayed man as inherently flawed. They emphasized restraint, self-control, and common sense.

The 18th-century English poet Alexander Pope (1688-1744) is aligned with the chief representative of this Age. His undoubted magnum opus is The Rape of the Lock (1712; revised 1714), which deemed by many to be the apex paradigm of mock epic. In this long poem Pope intentionally burlesqued the tradition of the regular epic poem. The poem comprises all the traditional elements of a regular epic may possess except the subject, which is very trivial. The poem relates the story of an aristocratic girl named Belinda, whose lock of hair was snipped off by a suitor, resultantly a battle of the sexes ensued. Belinda was so angry that she was determined to avenge the offense. In this connection she started to prepare herself for the battle. Pope described her preparation in such a manner as if an epic hero is preparing himself for the battlefield. The following is an excerpt from Rape of the Lock (Canto V):

Oh! if to dance all night and dress all day,
Charm'd the small-pox, or chased old age away,
Who would not scorn what housewife's cares produce,
Or who would learn one earthly thing of use?
To patch, nay ogle, may become a saint;
Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint.
But since, alas; frail beauty must decay;
Curl'd or uncurl'd, since locks will turn to grey;
Since painted, or not painted, all shall fade,
And she who scorns a man must die a maid ;
What then remains but well our power to use,
And keep good-humour still, whate'er we lose?
And trust me, dear! good-humour can prevail,
When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail.
Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll;
Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul."
So spoke the dame, but no applause ensued:

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