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The Lotos-Eaters is a poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson that was published in 1832. The poem is based on a story from Homer's Odyssey in which the hero, Odysseus, and his crew land on an island inhabited by people who eat a lotos fruit that causes them to forget their homes and become indifferent to the passage of time.
The poem begins with the sailors arriving on the island and encountering the Lotos-Eaters, who invite them to join them in eating the fruit. The sailors are tempted by the prospect of forgetting their hardships and living a life of leisure, but Odysseus knows they must resist the temptation and continue on their journey.
As the sailors eat the fruit, they become increasingly detached from reality and content to remain on the island. They begin to dream of a life free from care and responsibility, where they can spend their days lounging in the shade and listening to the soothing songs of the Lotos-Eaters.
However, Odysseus knows that this idyllic life is not real and that it would ultimately lead to their downfall. He urges his men to leave the island and continue their journey, reminding them of the duties and obligations that await them back home.
The Lotos-Eaters serves as a warning against the dangers of escapism and the temptation to avoid facing the realities of life. It reminds us that although it may be tempting to flee from our problems and seek a life of ease and comfort, ultimately it is only by facing and overcoming our challenges that we can truly live fulfilling and meaningful lives.
In conclusion, The Lotos-Eaters is a thought-provoking and poignant poem that explores the human desire for escape and the dangers of succumbing to the temptation to avoid the hardships of life. It serves as a reminder of the importance of perseverance and the need to face and overcome the challenges that life throws our way.
Tennysonâs Poetry âThe Lotos
A land of streams! What pleasure can we have To war with evil? To dream and dream, like yonder amber light, Which will not leave the myrrhbush on the height; To hear each other's whispered speech; Eating the Lotos, day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray: To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mildminded melancholy; To muse and brood, and live again in memory, With those old faces of our infancy Heaped over with a mound of grass, Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass: Beneath a heaven dark and holy, To watch the long bright river drawing slowly His waters from the purple hillâ To hear the dewy echoes calling From cave to cave thro' the thicktwinèd vineâ To hear the emeraldcoloured water falling Thro' many a wov'n acanthus-wreath divine! Like Oenone, the frame outlines the song within the poem, and it allows the existence of two different perspectives that can be mixed at various points within the poem. All things have rest: why should we toil alone, We only toil, who are the first of things, And make perpetual moan, Still from one sorrow to another thrown: Nor ever fold our wings, And cease from wanderings; Nor steep our brows in slumber's holy balm: Nor harken what the inner spirit sings, "There is no joy but calm! Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind, In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. Full-faced above the valley stood the moon; And like a downward smoke, the slender stream Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem. All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past. The petals of full-blown roses fall gently on the ground: the dew-drops fall gently on a pool of water collected between tall mountain-sides.
There are things I need to figure out, for her sake, at least. Only to hear and see the far-off sparkling brine, Only to hear were sweet, stretch'd out beneath the pine. When its time is up, a flower ripens and falls. Finally, the sailors complain against God, who in the heaven, has to do no work. All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past.
Tennyson weaves this Homeric episode into a poem whose poetic excellence has always been recognised even by the hostile critics of Tennyson. Choric Song 1 There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. The charmèd sunset lingered low adown In the red West: thro' mountain clefts the dale Was seen far inland, and the yellow down Bordered with palm, and many a winding vale And meadow, set with slender galingale; A land where all things always seemed the same! For example, in the second stanza of the song the mariners express the irony of the fact that man, who is the pinnacle and apex of creation, is the only creature made to toil and labor all the days of his life. Memories of their wedded lives are dear to them, but by now changes must have occurred. What is it that will last? A land of streams! What pleasure can we have To war with evil? Moreover, in nature, they find that all things have rest.
In this place are soft beds of mosses and flowers floating on streams. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream. Tennyson provides a tempting and seductive vision of a life free from toil. They are tired of the endless waves of the ocean and the hard labor they have performed; they believe that they are due a period of rest and dreaming. Buy Study Guide Here everything seems always to be the same. Why should we only toil, the roof and crown of things? Branches they bore of that enchanted stem, Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave To each, but whoso did receive of them, And taste, to him the gushing of the wave Far far away did seem to mourn and rave On alien shores; and if his fellow spake, His voice was thin, as voices from the grave; And deep-asleep he seem'd, yet all awake, And music in his ears his beating heart did make.
All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream. They argue that everything else in nature is able to rest and stay still, but man is tossed from one sorrow to another. There is sweet music here that softer falls, Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or nightdews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass. When they had eaten and drunk I sent two of my company to see what manner of men the people of the place might be, and they had a third man under them. They never moved or roamed about. Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind, In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.
Long enough the winedark wave our weary bark did carry. . They have rest on the Mount Olympus, drinking nectar and watching indifferently the miserable plight of mankind. And round about the keel with faces pale, Dark faces pale against that rosy flame, The mild-eyed melancholy Lotos-eaters came. They carry branches heavy with flower and stem and give them to the men. But in the details of his poem Tennyson has laid many other poets under contribution, notably Moschus, 'Idyll', v. Homer does not spend too much time describing the location, and he has Odysseus forcing his men back to the boat although they do so with bitter tears and lamentation.
As soon as some of the mariners tasted of the lotos fruits, they were thrown into a state of lethargy and forgetfulness. When the mariners ask why everything else besides them are allowed peace, it is uncertain as to whether they are asking about humanity in general or only about their own state of being. Then some one said, "We will return no more;" And all at once they sang, "Our island home Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam. When we had tasted meat and drink I sent forth certain of my company to go and make search what manner of men they were who here live upon the earth by bread. And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep.
Critical Analysis The Lotos Eaters by Alfred Tennyson
All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave In silence, ripen, fall and cease. Thus in this poem Tennyson forces us to consider the ambiguous appeal of a life without toil: although all of us share the longing for a carefree and relaxed existence, few people could truly be happy without any challenges to overcome, without the fire of aspiration and the struggle to make the world a better place. This is lovelier and sweeter, Men of Ithaca, this is meeter, In the hollow rosy vale to tarry, Like a dreamy Lotos-eater, a delirious Lotus-eater! As James Kincaid argues, "in this poem the reader takes over the role of voyager the mariners renounce, using sympathy for a sail and judgment for a rudder. Now whosoever of them did eat the honey-sweet fruit of the lotos had no more wish to bring tidings nor to come back, but there he chose to abide with the lotos-eating men ever feeding on the lotos and forgetful of his homeward way. It is far sweeter to lie reclining there and listening to gentle sweet music of the island, wholly under the influence of mild eyed melancholy. It never experiences toil. How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream, With halfshut eves ever to seem Falling asleep in a half-dream! Odysseus must drag his men away so that they can resume their journey home.
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