Holly Pretsky

Blog Post 1

William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and his Songs of Experience offer two contrasting perspectives on human nature, but they go even further than that to contemplate the nature of the very universe, calling into question the tenets of Christianity. A comparison of the poems “The Lamb” from Songs of Innocence and “The Tyger” from Songs of Experience illustrates Blake’s meditation on the origins of the world and on its creator. The poems both use animals to approach their speculations about God, but with strikingly different conclusions.

“The Lamb” reinforces Christianity; it’s speaker has conviction, repeating his assertions. But the didactic style of the poem has the effect of reducing Christianity to a child’s rhyme, of actually removing some of its credibility. “The Tyger,” on the other hand, makes no assertions. It roars forth with question after question, but the questions (which behoove the reader to contemplate their possible answers) have the effect of suggesting a different kind of divine presence with more certitude than “The Lamb,” with it’s simple statements, could even begin to offer.

Both poems begin with the same question of origin: “Little Lamb who made thee?” (1) and “Tyger Tyger burning bright / In the forest of the night; / What immortal hand or eye / Could frame thy fearful symmetry?” (1 -4). On first glance, the beginnings seem to be parallel. Indeed they are asking a similar question, linking the two poems together, but their differences are significant. The first is straightforward in its diction: who made thee? The second is alive with description. Both the Tyger and its potential creator are nestled in adjectives: burning, immortal, fearful. The first question clearly points to an answer. In the second, the emphasis is on the question itself. The difference in the two creative verbs (“made” versus “could frame”) is at the heart of the contrast between the two questions. The first acknowledges what is, what has already been done. The second describes a capability, something that continues to exist and to create.

In “The Lamb,” the speaker comes forth in the second stanza, filling the void left by the questions posed in the first. “Little lamb I’ll tell thee, / Little Lamb I’ll tell thee” (11-12). The repetition of the first two lines of the second stanza doesn’t stop there. The stanza is rife with repetition: “He is meek and he is mild” (15), the words “little” and “child” are repeated as well. In this stanza, the speaker explains that Christ, Christianity’s sacrificial lamb, is the creator of the lamb. The speaker creates a circle of connection among himself, the lamb, and Christ: “He became a little child: / I a child and thou a lamb, / We are called by his name” (16 – 17). With those lines, the identities of each character are blurred, which makes the final repeated line: “Little Lamb God bless thee” somewhat puzzling. Is the lamb Christ? Can the lamb and god exist in the same line?  The poem, which on first reading seems so certain, comes to a rather inconclusive close.

“The Tyger” on the other hand, offers no assertions. Each stanza ends with a question mark. Despite the barrage of questions however, “The Tyger” feels much more assertive than its counterpart. For one, it begins and ends with the same stanza, giving it a feeling of closure that “The Lamb” doesn’t have. It’s six four-line stanzas roll forward with meticulously regular meter. Though they ask questions, there is certainty in the rhythm with which they are asked. The divine presence feels significantly more real in “The Tyger.” We see glimpses of the “immortal hand or eye” (3), the “dread grasp” (15) the “smile” (19) of the creator. This is a being with a presence undeniable. It’s no accident that the Tyger, illustrated by Blake in all its ferocity, can eat the Lamb.

Photo: Capitoline Museum Rome   

https://www.flickr.com/photos/mbell1975/3563598660/