Porphyrias Lover by Robert Browning: An Analysis
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Both lovers long to live the love that they were destined to be a part of, but are separated by the heavenly plane.
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Their emotional repression here is credited to the both of them occupying a different space and time. I heard her tears. The emotional release that both speakers seek to embrace is a release of passion, obsession, and at times a life.
Both Browning and Rossetti sought to address an emotional aspect of relationships that did not end with the physical death of their mates. They seemed to figure out a way to address love on an everlasting emotional front which may have been suppressed in public, but was eternal in their writing. Remember: This is just a sample from a fellow student.
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Porphyria’s Lover Analysis
No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain. As a shut bud that holds a bee, I warily oped her lids: again Laughed the blue eyes without a stain. And I untightened next the tress About her neck; her cheek once more Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss: I propped her head up as before, Only, this time my shoulder bore Her head, which droops upon it still: The smiling rosy little head, So glad it has its utmost will, That all it scorned at once is fled, And I, its love, am gained instead!
Porphyria's love: she guessed not how Her darling one wish would be heard. And thus we sit together now, And all night long we have not stirred, And yet God has not said a word! Dramatic Monologue Robert Browning did not invent the dramatic monologue but he is the most famous user of the form.
Porphyria's lover by Robert Browning GCSE analysis by pretentiousbach | Teaching Resources
In fact he really became a household name to the Victorians for his book called Dramatic Monologues which included this and many other poems, each from the perspective of a different character, either invented, drawn from history or from literature. His 'My Last Duchess' is another well-known example, which, like this poem, slowly reveals a twisted character in his own words. Some of these monologues imagine that the speaker is in conversation with the reader, who never has a chance to reply, and others are more isolated, as though the speaker is talking to himself, to God, or to nobody at all.
Characters The speaker is plainly sociopathic: he is not disturbed by his own actions but observes them as if from a distance, amazed and amused that despite what he has been told, "god has not said a word" and he has not been smitten for his act of murder. Also, as soon as he realises that "she was mine, mine" he says that he "found a thing to do" as if an insignificant idea had suddenly suggested itself to him - but his actions do not seem impulsive.
While he says that Porphyria now has her "utmost will", he plainly delighted in killing her at the moment she belonged to him - at the moment he realises "at last Prophyria worshipped me".
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Whatever their previous relationship was like, the speaker seems to think that he can stop time and keep things as they are, silent and still "And all night long we have not stirred". He seems happier in complete control, whereas previously he seems to have been jealous that Porphyria shared her affection for him with others: "she Too weak Porphyria is a mystery. Robert Browning The lover is the speaker in this dramatic monologue.
He lives in a cottage in a countryside. The rain set early in tonight, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, and did its worst to vex the lake: I listened with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneeled and made the cheerless grate Blaze up, and all the cottage warm; Which done, she rose, and from her form Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl, And laid her soiled gloves by, untied Her hat and let the damp hair fall, And, last, she sat down by my side And called me.
So, she was come through wind and rain.
Be sure I looked up at her eyes Happy and proud; at last I knew Porphyria worshiped me: That moment she was mine, mine, fair, Perfectly pure and good: I found A thing to do, and all her hair In one long yellow string I wound Three times her little throat around, And strangled her. No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain. As a shut bud that holds a bee, I warily oped her lids: And I untightened next the tress About her neck; her cheek once more Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss: I propped her head up as before Only, this time my shoulder bore Her head, which droops upon it still: The smiling rosy little head, So glad it has its utmost will, That all it scorned at once is fled, And I, its love, am gained instead!
‘Porphyria’s Lover’ by Robert Browning: Analysis
And thus we sit together now, And all night long we have not stirred, And yet God has not said a word! The speaker lives in a cottage in the countryside. His lover, a blooming young woman named Porphyria, comes in out of a storm and proceeds to make a fire and bring cheer to the cottage.