“The Rape of the Lock”
Alexander Pope
Abstract
This article provides a plot summary of Alexander Pope’s “Rape of the Lock,” followed by a brief survey of its main formal and contextual aspects. Some points raised in the synopsis, as well as other significant elements of religion, history, politics, society, and science and technology, are then discussed, the survey ending in a short biography of the author. Possible discussion and essay topics are suggested at the end of this paper.
Keywords
Pope, Alexander
The Rape of the Lock
heroi-comical poem
mock-heroic epic
heroic couplets
Homer
Virgil
Horace
Fermor, Arabella
Robert, Lord Petre
sylphs
Neo-Classicism
Augustan Age
Content Synopsis
“The Rape of the Lock,” Alexander Pope’s mock-heroic epic (or “heroi-comical poem,” as he himself called it, see Butt 217; all references to Pope’s writings are to this edition) was inspired by and derived its theme from a seemingly petty conflict between the representatives of two prominent Roman Catholic families in early-18th-century England. The discord arose when Robert, Lord Petre cut off a curl from his fiancée Arabella Fermor’s hair as a practical joke. Pope, in an attempt to reconcile the two families, commemorated the incident in the first, 1711/2 version of “The Rape of the Lock,” which he soon extended by adding his supernatural “machinery” and composing a neatly balanced Neo-Classical work that consists of 5 cantos (1714). Since this is the version most widely used today, it will form the basis of this content synopsis as well.
The work begins with a prose dedication to Arabella Fermor, in which—as though it were a modern-time “disclaimer”—Pope explains his motives and how the whole “epic” should not be taken too seriously and personally. The stylized invocation placed at the beginning of Canto I (lines 1–6) addresses Pope’s friend John Caryll, who had urged Pope to write the poem, as well as “Belinda,” who is not difficult to identify as Arabella Fermor, although Pope humorously tries to obscure the link in the dedication: “the Character of Belinda, as it is now manag’d, resembles You in nothing but in Beauty” (Butt 218).
The invocation is followed by a series of rhetorical questions anticipating the plot (I.7–12) but, strangely enough, Pope does not proceed directly to the action; instead, the narrative continues with Belinda’s oversleeping caused by her “Guardian Sylph” (20), who soon appears to her in a dream. From his speech that follows (27–114), we learn that he is called Ariel (105); he explains how the airy sylphs help govern all the world, contending with salamanders of fire (60), nymphs of water (62), and mischievous gnomes of earth (63). Of all these, sylphs are responsible for the preservation of chastity (71–8) and act accordingly—even when unnoticed. Ariel ends his speech with an ominous prophecy:
Late, as I rang’d the Crystal Wilds of Air,
In the clear Mirror of thy ruling Star
I saw, alas! some dread Event impend,
Ere to the Main this Morning Sun descend.
But Heav’n reveals not what, or how, or where;
Warn’d by thy Sylph, oh Pious Maid beware!
This to disclose is all thy Guardian can.
Beware of all, but most beware of Man! (I.107–114)
Belinda is now awakened by her lapdog, Shock, licking her face (I.115–6). The vision disappears and it is time to prepare for the social meeting planned for the afternoon. Belinda proceeds to the toilet table, which is described as if it were an altar; indeed, Belinda “adores ... the Cosmetic Pow’rs” (123–4) and the “sacred Rites of Pride” (128) are rewarded, too, for “The Fair each moment rises in her Charms” (140). Bombastic, or even frivolous, as this description might appear at first, Pope cunningly draws on the inherent etymological connection between the words cosmetic and cosmic, both deriving from the idea of “order”: the cosmos is, according to the world view of Greek antiquity, synonymous with the “ordered world,” while cosmetics is concerned with the “orderly” arrangement (including ornamentation) of the body for increased physical appeal. The same concern is reflected in Belinda’s “awful [i.e. awesome] Beauty” (139), which formulation suggests the unlikely combination in one person of sublimity and exquisite beauty. Once the “rite” has been completed, Belinda praises her maid or “inferior Priestess” (127), for “Labours not her own” (148): Belinda’s make-up should be attributed to the sylphs. Though this might seem perplexing at first sight, on deeper scrutiny it proves just logical: chastity is closely related to decency, which, in turn, depends to a great extent on tidiness and attractive, yet not ostentatious make-up.
Canto II begins with the detailed description of Belinda’s beauty, set in imitation of “Aeneas’s voyage up the Tiber” (Butt 223n). In spite of the flattering, even hyperbolic appraisal of Belinda’s splendor, the end of the passage is rather ambiguous, and one does not even know whether to take it as a compliment or a reproach directed against false appearances: “If to her share some Female Errors fall, / Look on her Face, and you’ll forget ’em all” (II.17–8). A separate verse paragraph is dedicated to the obsessively minute description of the “lock” that will soon lead to the dramatic clash between Belinda and the Baron—Lord Petre’s fictitious counterpart. Since the latter is subsequently introduced admiring the “bright Locks” (29), there is good reason to suspect that the comparison of Belinda’s hair to “Labyrinths” (23) and “slender Chains” (24) and the remarks that such “hairy Sprindges ... the Birds betray” (25), “surprize the Finny Prey” (26), and “Man’s Imperial Race insnare” (27) all show a shared point of view between the narrator and the Baron.
Indeed, the narrative focus smoothly shifts to the Baron, whose resolution to capture Belinda’s lock is presented (31–4) and then related to his early morning ritual offering (35–46), which nicely counterpoints Belinda’s own “rite of Pride.” This is only one of Pope’s many clever symmetrical or parallel compositions; in addition to a shared reference to Belinda’s and the Baron’s respective “Altar,” the narrator also mentions the love letters received by each protagonist—the “Billets-doux,” whose French name, imported by Charles II’s courtiers after his return to the throne, lends additional flair to something inherently sentimental. But whereas Belinda beholds the Billet-doux with great excitement and ardor, the Baron simply uses it to light “the Pyre” (41), as his love letters are merely “the Trophies of his former Loves” (40). This act is most gentlemanly; the way, however, in which it differs from Belinda’s attitude throws some light on the social distinctions between men and women—for the first time in the poem.
After this “flashback” episode, the plot now continues with Belinda’s merry voyage on the river. This cheerfulness is contrasted with Ariel’s worries: “Th’impending Woe sate heavy on his Breast” (II.54). What follows is a version of epic enumeration: Ariel surveys his “army” of sylphs (55–72) and then delivers a speech of mission (73–136). He starts by listing those grand sylphs who govern planets and stars, who cause and dispel tempests, and—last but not least—“guard with Arms Divine the British Throne” (90). Next follows the general mission of Ariel and his host of sylphs: to take care of the fair lady’s appealing appearance (91–100). But since the sunny day is overcast by the shadows of impending disaster, they also have a specific mission: to prevent it from happening. For this purpose every sylph must assume their assigned post (111–22). For those spirits who fail their mission, some horrible punishments are in prospect; the worst “In Fumes of burning Chocolate shall glow, / And tremble at the Sea that froaths below!” (135–6). The canto ends in an anticipation of doom, with the sylphs dutifully taking up their posts.
Canto III commences with what might be considered the most sustained reference to the England of the Augustan Age (more of which below, in the section on Historical Context). In the description of Hampton Court (1–18), flattery once again mingles with tongue-in-cheek irony:
Here Britain’s Statesmen oft the Fall foredoom
Of Foreign Tyrants, and of Nymphs at home;
Here Thou, Great Anna! whom three Realms obey,
Dost sometimes Counsel take—and sometimes Tea. (III.5–8)
Imperial decisions are contrasted with domestic affairs, while the reference to “three Realms” alludes to the idea—still maintained at the time—that in addition to Great Britain and Ireland, France ought also to obey the English monarch (Butt 277n). These perpetual shifts in proportion and viewpoint foreshadow the card game that will constitute the main epic action of the canto—and, in a sense, the whole poem.
But before that, Pope, for a fleeting moment, unleashes his devastating criticism of some judicial practices of the time. At lunchtime,
The hungry Judges soon the Sentence sign,
And Wretches hang that Jury-men may Dine... (III.21–2)
but—after a brilliant “turn of the camera”—focus is back again on Belinda, who is prepared to beat “two adventrous Knights / At Ombre” (26–7), a card game whose epic potential Pope exploits to the fullest.
To begin with, the cards themselves depict prominent characters—Kings, Queens, Knaves—and “Particolour’d Troops” forming the “army” proper. Their description is a powerful enumeration which Pope then crowns with a mock-battle scene in which the tricks are presented as though they were real combat scenes, to the extent that the last, decisive trick Belinda takes with the King of Hearts, who “springs to Vengeance with an eager pace” (97) and takes revenge for “his captive Queen” (96).
Secondly, ombre, this popular card game of Spanish origin which was brought to Restoration England by Charles II and his entourage, who had learnt it in France, happened to be played by three participants, with nine cards to each hand (and thirteen to the talon). This, of course, lends itself readily to the interpretation of magical numbers, an epic element Pope makes ample use of: “Strait the three Bands prepare in Arms to join, / Each Band the number of the Sacred Nine” (29–30). Moreover, the sylphs also participate in the game, and their position, based on their rank, even allows Pope to make a teasing remark about the habits of women: “For Sylphs, yet mindful of their ancient Race, / Are, as when Women, wondrous fond of Place” (35–6).
And thirdly, playing ombre was so popular in the Restoration period and after, both with women and men, that Pope’s references to it must have been easily comprehensible but also highly evocative to the average reader (see also Influences section below). In fact, the game can be reconstructed; while Pope brilliantly uses the symbolism of the cards, he also pays attention not to infringe on the rules of the game; such a mistake would have been spotted by contemporary readers immediately.
After a most exciting game in which, though Belinda wins the first four tricks, the Baron equalizes with a streak of another four, and it is only the last trick which decides in Belinda’s favor, “The Nymph exulting fills with Shouts the Sky, / The Walls, the Woods, and long Canals reply” (III.99–100). The next four lines, however, leading us to the coffee table, dispel this merry mood, once again foretelling imminent disaster.
The coffee table is yet another altar, this time Japanese (III.107); the effect of the offering, however, is less than desirable. “Coffee,” we are told, “Sent up in Vapours to the Baron’s Brain / New Stratagems, the radiant Lock to gain” (117–20). The climax is near and in order to intensify the suspense, Pope combines two plots: while Clarissa gives a “two-edg’d Weapon” (i.e. a pair of scissors, 128) to the Baron, the sylphs are doing all they can to hinder the hideous crime, but all they can achieve is a delay of the deed: “Thrice she look’d back, and thrice the Foe drew near” (138). Ariel even espies Belinda’s thoughts (140), only to find, although she is trying desperately to conceal it, “An Earthly Lover lurking at her Heart” (144). Betrayed by his protégé, Ariel collapses powerless and the Baron can have his way. The sylph that attempts to save Belinda’s lock is cut into two, but, fortunately, “Airy Substance soon unites again” (152).
The Baron’s attack makes Belinda furious; after her victorious cries a few moments ago, her “Screams of Horror” now resound in the building (156). The Baron, on the other hand, takes pride in his new trophy (161–170). The canto ends in a doubtful rhetorical question, regretting the loss of Belinda’s lock and the catastrophe caused thereby.
Why that catastrophe is inevitable is explained by Canto IV, which begins with the evil gnome Umbriel’s journey to the “Cave of Spleen.” Pope first describes the effect, Belinda’s incomparable rage (IV.1–10), and then the epic cause, Umbriel’s visit to the underworld and back (11–88). In the vividly repulsive depiction of the Cave of Spleen, cacophony dominates the sound, while allegory and prosopopoeia the content: the court of Spleen is inhabited by foul creatures and personified ideas such as Pain, Megrim, Ill-nature, and Affectation, each of them carefully placed according to the abstract idea it represents, bearing the common characteristics of the given quality (21–38). A list of typical hallucinations ensues, including a barely concealed sexual reference—one of Pope’s most explicit in this poem: “And Maids turn’d Bottels, call aloud for Corks” (54).
After the gnome enters the cave, he delivers his speech in which he asks Spleen’s help to spoil the mirth of Belinda and her company (55–78). The goddess, true to her nature, “Seems to reject him, tho’ she grants his Pray’r” (80) and gives him a bag full of the foulest furies and afflictions and a vial of sorrows. Umbriel duly pours the contents of the bag on Belinda, whose companion, Thalestris (named after the militant queen of the Amazons, Butt 235n) further incites her rage (97–120). Her main argument is that it is the greatest conceivable dishonor to allow the Baron to show off his “inestimable Prize” (113). She then asks Sir Plume to get back the lock of hair (121–2).