Idolatry and the Absence of the Divine

“Ligeia” vs. “To My Dear and Loving Husband”

Can an author’s one obsession blot out another theme?  Or can two almost contradictory ideas, or persons, coincide in good writing?  The presence of the Divine in early American literature is nearly an unmovable force, yet some authors, say Anne Bradstreet and Edgar Allan Poe, threaten this sturdy pillar with some paltry writings of their beloveds.  By reviewing the fanaticism in the relationships and the presence (or lack of) God in these works, one can see if both the Divine and other idolatry can co-exist.

Taken from article.wn.com

Beginning with Anne Bradstreet and “To My Dear and Loving Husband,” the themes of intimacy, love, and a blessing of a heavenly future are expressed in such tones that were uncommon in Puritan society. Instead of valuing God and the Holy Scriptures, as her religion demanded at the time, Bradstreet revered her husband and her happiness with him.  This is most noticeable as Bradstreet rhymes, “Compare with me ye women if you can. / I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold, / Or all the riches that the east doth hold” (Perkins 103).  She does, however, squeeze religion and a mention of heaven at the end of the poem, yet this action all the more affirms her idolatry of her husband, as she pens, “The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray” (103).  Thus, though heaven is mentioned, Bradstreet replaces the traditional reverence and love of God with her husband, Simon Bradstreet.

Taken from show10.gdnm.org

To compare, in “Ligeia,” Edgar Allan Poe pens a supernatural horror where an idolatrous relationship is far too obvious between the opium-addicted narrator and Ligeia.  The narrator often goes on and on describing her beauty, grace, and intellect, and he obsesses over her eyes for hours at night (Perkins 863).  For example, Poe writes,

“I examined the contour of the lofty and pale forehead—it was faultless—how cold indeed that word when applied to a majesty so divine!—the skin rivaling the purest ivory, the commanding extent and repose the gentle prominence of the regions above the temples; and then the raven-black, the glossy, the luxuriant and naturally-curling tresses, setting forth the full force of the Homeric epithet, “hyacinthine!”” (862).

Likewise, Ligeia appears extremely devoted to him as she enlightens his eyes to forbidden wisdoms and knowledge as well as poured out her love to him, the narrator, near the end of her death (864-65).  The absence of God is strangely pronounced again in “Ligeia,” with supernatural ideas and events taking place instead; in this way, Poe nearly exterminates the previously unshakeable God-focused literature by telling stories of evil and psychological despair (868-72).

In short, at least in the writings of “To My Dear and Loving Husband” and “Ligeia,” the presence of the Divine and mortal obsessions cannot cohabit together.  This may be due to a variety of reasons, and while some may think that the two should never mix, perhaps the better reason is that adulation—either of another human or of God—is an all-consuming passion which obliterates all else.

Cite:

Perkins, George B., and Barbara Perkins. The American Tradition in Literature. 12th ed. Vol. 1. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2009. Print.