Y12/A1/ Sample level 7 coursework/CT

Crescendo and Exaltation in Shelley’s “The Cloud”

In the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, there is a room entirely devoted to one single painting. The painting fills the entire side of one wall, and is an example of the Hudson River School. One’s eye has little sense of where to first fall, as it is overwhelmed by the depth and grandeur of a landscape so real you could almost walk into it. I do not recall the artist’s name, but I do remember the impulse to sit down and observe it for some time, and I do remember trying to gain a better understanding of what had grabbed me, what had caused this impulse. Shelley’s poem, “The Cloud,” has the same effect on me. Upon first reading, the reader recognizes its fluid cadences, its overall beauty. Yet, Shelley’s reader comprehends that there is something else there, something that requires further attention. In absorbing both works of art, there is an exalted sensation in response to the illustrations of Mother Nature provided by the artists; this compels one to ask, what causes this exaltation? As the art aficionado’s eye scans the painting to see how the sunrise is reflected on the pond and the detail paid to the ripple that a dropped stone has created, Shelley’s reader scans the poem for meter, notes the internal rhyming, and is moved by the powerful metaphors. Shelley has filled his six stanzas with as much detail and use of device as the Hudson School artist has filled the blank canvas craving for beauty with skilled strokes of oil. Each syllable in one of Shelley’s lines is like each ripple on the surface of the painting’s pond; each has been carefully crafted to draw the observer into the overall flow of the work, and it is necessary to step back in order to discern and appreciate the artistry.

The structure intensifies the feeling of elation in this piece. There is a crescendo effect that carries the reader through the first few stanzas. The first eight lines have a pleasant tone, calling to mind an image of “fresh showers” (l.1), the warm lull of “noonday dreams” (l.4), and the comforting recollection of being “rocked to rest on their mother’s breast” (l.7). This abruptly changes to the stronger ambiance of “lashing hail” (l.9), which progresses towards “pines groan[ing] aghast” (l. 14) in the second stanza. The image depicted, the thunder which “struggles and howls at fits” (l.20), builds up the energy in this stanza concurrently along with the electrical energy of the thunderstorm that moves the cloud, the “[lure] by the love of the genii that move/ in the depths of the purple sea” (ll.23-24). Nevertheless, despite this increase in energy, the tone that pervades the stanzas is still tranquil. In the midst of the snowstorm, the cloud “sleep[s] in the arms of the blast” (l.16), and the thunderstorm guides the cloud “with gentle motion” (l.21). This presents a stark contrast to the original representation of the lashing snowstorm and the struggling thunderstorm. By the end of the second stanza, Shelley has described a peaceful spring-like day, a heavy snowstorm, and the final ascent to the clash of a thunderstorm. Nevertheless, although the energy of the poem rises, and the state of the cloud changes, the tone remains tranquil and collected.

Shelley’s meter, which is for the most part iambic and anapestic, also adds to the crescendo effect. Shelley writes: “From my wings are shaken the dews that waken” (l.11) and “And I laugh to see them whirl and flee” (l.53). The metric pattern in these lines, an anapest followed by three iambs, repeatedly occurs in “The Cloud.” The syllabic stresses rise within the feet, and the effect of this is to add a trilling lightness to the tone of the poem. This is facilitated by the rhyme scheme, which occurs both within the line and at the end of the line. Of a four-line set, the first and third lines have an internal rhyme, that is to say, a syllable halfway through the line will rhyme with the last syllable; however, they have no end rhymes with other lines. Moreover, the second and fourth lines will rhyme on the last syllable, but not within themselves. This would appear something like: AA/B/CC/D. In most cases, the syllables that rhyme are stressed, which not only draws attention to the words, but since they occur at the end of each line, also add to the rising crescendo. Furthermore, the regular meter and rhyme scheme pull the reader into the rising feeling of the poem, which is one of exaltation. Nevertheless, this consistency is accompanied by several variations to the meter. This makes the variations noticeable to the reader’s ear, and thus, effectively important. In the first stanza, which consists of twelve lines, ten of them end with an iambic foot; however, the tenth and twelfth lines end with unaccented syllables. The last line of this stanza is, “And I laugh as I pass in thunder” (l.12); an iamb and an anapest precede an amphibrach in this line causing the line to fall off at the end. This plainly diverges from the lines that lead up to it, which are light and rising; this corresponds with the change from discussion of “flowers” (l.1), “streams” (l.2), and “dreams” (l.4), to the more threatening “thunder.” The change in meter will often accompany a change of the state of the cloud and a change of energy in this poem.

Perhaps one of the most essential devices in this poem, or any poem for that matter, is the metaphor. In Shelley’s third stanza, he provides a compelling metaphor of the sunrise as a phoenix: “The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes, / And his burning plumes outspread” (ll.31-32). In mythology, the phoenix is a bird that burns, and then rises from his own ashes. Shelley compares “the burning plumes” of a Phoenix to the “sanguine Sunrise” which reappears every morning after setting at night. Prior to this stanza, the thunder of the night before is “dissolving in rains” (l.30), and the energy is changed into a fiery sunset the next morning. Furthermore, this is similar to the fashion of the cloud, which dissolves and restores itself in new forms. Throughout the poem, Shelley focuses on the idea of dissipation and rebuilding, whether within the cloud, the sunrise, or “the child from the womb” and the “ghost from the tomb” (l.83). The image that the “sanguine Sunrise” presents, ushering in the new day with the striking color of blood red, brings to mind “the child from the womb,” also a new life entering the world. “The crimson pall of eve may fall” (l.41), or in other words, the sun will go down at night, again, in a burning red color, only to repeat the cycle once again. The child’s cycle will also carry on, as it will be born once again after death as a “ghost from the tomb.” All of these ideas of rebirth and the proverbial cycle of life are parallel to the cloud’s nature: “I change, but I cannot die” (l.76).

Throughout the poem, the cloud takes several forms, it “bind[s] the Sun’s throne with a burning zone,/ and the Moon’s with a girdle of pearl” (ll.60-61), it is “sunbeam-proof” and “hang[s] like a roof” (l.65), and it marches “with hurricane, fire, and snow” (l.68) to form a “million-colored bow” (l.70). Shelley maintains the light, composed attitude and tone of the cloud throughout all of its metamorphoses, as it professes, “I silently laugh at my own cenotaph” (l.81), “I laugh to see them whirl and flee” (l.53), “and I laugh as I pass in thunder” (l.12). In its perpetual state, Shelley’s cloud hardly wearies from the rigor of its chore, concluding with, “I arise and unbuild it again” (l.84).

Throughout the poem, there is an occasional falling action, but the dominant drive of the poem leads one towards a rising feeling. The tone is light and uplifting, the energy builds progressively, the iambic and anapestic feet rise, and the phoenix, the child, the ghost, and most importantly, the cloud, arise after their falls. It is easy to immerse oneself in “The Cloud,” as it pulls one’s senses towards understanding the elevated state of the cloud, which is between the corporeal and the ethereal, and is perpetually reestablishing itself. The end effect is an exaltation of one’s senses and emotions. Shelley’s poem carries us to a landscape between the earth and the heavens, and transforms the intangible spirit of the cloud into a concrete emotion comprehensible for a human. (1,432 words)