“Death stood all glassy
in his fixed eye:
His hand was wither'd, and his veins were dry;
His foot, in bony whiteness, glitter'd there,
Shrunken and sinewless, and ghastly bare;
From lips that moved not and unbreathing frame,
Like cavern'd winds, the hollow accents came.
Saul saw, and fell to earth, as falls the oak,
At once, and blasted by the thunderstroke.”—English Romantic poet George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824), “Saul,” from Hebrew Melodies (1815)
One of the most notorious
rakes of all time—and one who spiced many of his verses with biting wit—Lord Byron was, at first glance, the least likely of poets to write on a
religious subject, let alone with anything like a reverent attitude.
You can imagine my
surprise, then, when I discovered in an anthology of Byron’s work that he had
not only written the lines above, describing the Old Testament King Saul’s
encounter with the deceased prophet who set him on the path to ruling Israel,
Samuel, but that he had written a whole collection of poems with an Old
Testament setting, Hebrew Melodies.
The verses were meant to
accompany melodies created by Byron’s Jewish friend, Isaac Nathan. As Louis
Finkelman noted in a March 2011 article for The Forward, Nathan “adapted
some of the melodies straight from those used in the Sephardic synagogues of
London,” including, for the more secular poem “She Walks in Beauty,” the Sephardic
tune for “Lekha Dodi.”
With “Saul,” Byron uses
verses narrative—to which he would return more flamboyantly in his mock epic Don
Juan—for a specific Bible episode (1 Samuel 28:3–25). A desperate Saul,
unable to perceive a sign from God, calls on the “Witch of Endor” (in violation
of his own royal decree banning mediums) -to summon from the dead Samuel, in
order to advise Saul what to do on the eve of battle against the Israelites’ longtime
foe, the Philistines.
The result is not at all
what Saul expected or wanted. At the very sight of Samuel, Saul collapses, “blasted
by the thunderstroke”—a foreshadowing of what will happen during battle, when,
the “shrunken and sinewless” ghost advises him, not only will the Israelites
lose, but Saul and his heir will die. And so it came to pass, as defeat led
Saul to commit suicide, even as the captured Jonathan and his brothers are put
to death by the Philistines.
So many scandals attached
to Lord Byron even during his lifetime that any assessment of his overall morality
is, at best, fraught. But at some level, what he read in the Bible left a deep
impression on him (even if he did not, of course, conform to its strictures
against adultery). In an October 9, 1821 letter to his friend John Murray, Byron
wrote that he saw reading the New Testament as “a task,” but that he was a great
reader and admirer” of the Old Testament and had even “read them through and
through before I was eight years old.” The power of its stories and verses
could not be erased.
[The image accompanying
this post, The Shade of Samuel Appears to Saul, was created by Italian
Baroque painter Salvator Rosa (1615 –1673).]
His hand was wither'd, and his veins were dry;
His foot, in bony whiteness, glitter'd there,
Shrunken and sinewless, and ghastly bare;
From lips that moved not and unbreathing frame,
Like cavern'd winds, the hollow accents came.
Saul saw, and fell to earth, as falls the oak,
At once, and blasted by the thunderstroke.”—English Romantic poet George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824), “Saul,” from Hebrew Melodies (1815)
No comments:
Post a Comment