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One Word M ore’ is generally considered to be the one indisputable instance of Browning’s disclosure of his private self. The immediate paratext surrounding the poem furnishes ample evidence of its personal nature: the dedication ‘To E B B .’, the date ‘1855’ - a unique case among the shorter poems - and the addition of the signature ‘R.B.’ in the editions after EBB’s death, which suggests that he has finally realised his

ambition to write “R.B. a poem’” (11 Feb. 1845, Corr. 10: 69). The use of the initials

as in the courtship correspondence, and the title’s echo of the letter in which EBB tries to discourage his devotion to her and asks him to ‘leave it [his love] without one word

more’ (31 August 1845, Corr. 11: 54), let the poem appear as a continuation in the

poetic medium of the lovers’ private dialogue (Forsyth 293). In her Sonnets from the

Portuguese, EBB was the first to transfer their private discourse to poetry, albeit behind a fictional veil. Until 1849, the collection remained hidden from Browning, as he himself explains, ‘because I happened early to say something against putting one’s love into verse’ (undated letter of 1864, Curie 114). It is all the more ironic that Browning, who condemns the expression of private emotions in poetry, should pick EBB up thus on the only instance in which we find her forbidding him to voice his feelings. In

contrast to the rest of their relationship, it would seem that for once he is the one to advocate the personal poem. This radical reversal of his habitual attitude raises the question of whether the self-revelation in this poem can be taken seriously. The poem’s

classification under the heading ‘Men, and W omen’ in the 1863 Poetical Works also

invites us to read it like a dramatic monologue, i.e. to observe critically how the speaker’s argument develops and how it is m o tiv a te d .In my analysis, I will seek to establish how much or, as I will argue, how little Browning actually discloses of his self, how he justifies this reticence and how he deals with the contradictions which arise from his decision to spell out why he does not like to speak in his own voice.

The poem opens on a confident assertion o f the speaker’s identity as a poet:

There they are, my fifty men and women Nam ing m e the fifty poem s finished! (1-2)

First he presents his characters, stressing his control by the use of the possessive determiner; then they acknowledge him as their creator through enumerating the fifty poems to him. However, there is a less obvious reading of ‘Naming me’ as: ‘My fifty men and women identify me with my fifty p o e m s . T h i s solution is suggested by the fact that the speaker in the next two lines offers the volume to EBB as a present, declaring that ‘the book’ is inseparable from his self ( ‘m e’). Without taking into consideration the genre of the texts in the collection, it would thus seem that Browning has at last attained the identification of poetry and personality for which he admired EBB in the courtship correspondence and of which he thought himself incapable. Yet

knowing that almost all the poems in Men and Women are dramatic monologues, we

have to understand his meaning to be that the collection is an expression of his self in the sense of his artistic character and not an unmediated private self-expression. This is a restatement of the problematic implications of EBB’s wish that Browning be himself in his poems. Tucker sees ‘teasing phrasal ambiguities’ such as this as a strategy to discuss his private self without disclosing it ( ‘Escape Artist’ 14).

The explanation as to why he can only be himself in dramatic poems begins - appropriately enough for an objective poet - with a long passage on the communicability of love, in which the speaker takes the stance of an external observer.

On the problematic generic classification o f the poem , see Gibson ( ‘One W ord’).

On the acknowledgem ent o f the poet as creator through nam ing him as compared to the taboo of naming the divine Creator, see the sonnet ‘The N am es’ (1884).

Chapter II

thus avoiding self-observation for 104 lines. The examples of Raphael and Dante develop the dichotomy of the private and the public self, a central theme of many

poems in propria persona (see especially Chapter IV).^‘ The fact that the poem takes

this distinction for granted bears witness to the Victorian acceptance of the fragmentation of the individual into various social roles in a world of increasingly complex social interaction. In contrast to the Romantic yearning for a homogeneity of the self, one finds among the Victorians a greater reconciliation to the fact that such unity is impossible. There the private self is considered more authentic since it is less determined by the agreed codes of behaviour in the public sphere and consequently accord love - arguably the most private emotion - a high prestige. This value system is reflected in the speaker’s preference for Dante’s and Raphael’s private communications to their lovers over their famous public works.

Communication with one’s lover is facilitated when one can ‘be the man and leave the artist’ (71), i.e. one can escape the expectations and the confrontation with criticism which the public role entails (Erickson 163). The message can be adapted to the requirements of a single addressee, and as the beloved is the central element in the lover’s system of consciousness, he is familiar with the system’s code and can easily

decipher messages (Luhmann Liebe 18). Indeed, the lovers’ intuitive understanding

makes verbal communication almost superfluous (‘Your heart instructs you.’, 10; ‘You know me.’, 144), so that an intimate whisper (‘You whisper “Beatrice” ’, 33) suffices. The repetition of ‘You and I’ at the beginning of four verse paragraphs underlines the lovers’ unison. Intimacy as a prerequisite for complete understanding recalls the

description in Sordello of the highest kind of poetry as ‘brother’s speech [...] where an

accent’s change gives each / The other’s soul’ (V, 615-17) and where poet and reader understand each other by ‘half-words’ and ‘half-names’ (V, 606). EBB is thus imphcitly proclaimed to be the ideal reader.

Privacy, however, is not enough to guarantee successful communication, since it

does not solve the problem of converting love, the non-verbal feeling par excellence,

into expression. Any lover thinks his love so unique that language or other

On the developm ent o f the private / public dichotom y in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, see Schmidt (106ff.).

conventionalised media of communication are inadequate to embody his meaning.^^ This is particularly inhibiting for the artist, for what distinguishes artistic from ‘normal’ referential discourse is that the work of art self-consciously draws attention to its quality as a medium. Because of its reliance on the highly conventionalised signifiers of language and its extreme formal self-reference, poetry is in this respect the most radically self-conscious art form. The exceptional use of an alien medium which ‘One W ord M ore’ proposes is essentially a strategy to avoid self-observation.^^ In one’s own art, one takes the higher stance of second order observation of the work’s formal aspect, whereas in a new medium one is too busily engaged in constituting a first order observation to include oneself in it. The acute self-consciousness of the poet causes the paralysis of creativity in many Romantic poems. The expedient of Romantic poets in shifting from the observation of their own medium to an unselfconscious focus on nature, which lets them become creative again, and their valuing of authenticity parallel Browning’s solution here, which is enhanced by the sentimental linking of sincerity, unselfconsciousness and silence, as will become apparent at the end of the poem.

Having fervidly advocated the need to change one’s medium (50-72), it is all the more surprising that Browning does not quite practise what he preaches. Self- consciousness is even heightened: the enounced mentions the possibility of escaping the constraints of conventional love poems, but the enunciation situates the text in the extremely self-referential subgenre of poems discussing the difficulty of putting love into verse. Of course, the appeal of such poems lies in the paradox that, through their refusal of the love convention and the eloquent protestations that they cannot say how and how much they love, the speakers in the end do manage to convey their feelings.

Browning prepares us to accept his exemption from the norm firstly by arguing it on the grounds of form and then by referring to his poetic character. Although the

Cf. the letter o f 11 March 1845 (C orr. 10: 121), in which Brow ning lam ents that the conventional formula ‘Yours ever faithfully’ has lost its significance, saying: ‘[...] if these words were but my own, and fresh-minted for this m om ent’s u se!’

Browning takes up here an idea upon which he has twice touched already. In an early letter, he names poetry as his medium but adds that when ‘real and strong feelin g called for utterance, either D rawing or M usic seem ed a much fitter vehicle than “verses:” and for a long time I resorted to them, chiefly to m usic’ (9 August 1837, Corr. 3: 264). The sculptor Jules in P ippa P asses decides to try out painting after he has fallen in love.

An additional paradox is that these poem s often claim to break away from their predecessors’ conventions and to be original, for instance, in the opening sonnet o f A stroph el an d S tella, the speaker follow s his m use’s advice: ‘[L]ook in thy heart and write!’ Yet on the level o f the enunciation, the insistence on on e’s own originality and authenticity in this situation is already a convention going back at least as far as Roman poetry (Hiihn 1: 60).

Chapter II

real Browning is an amateur sculptor and boasts to EBB that he has learned musical

composition (14 June 1845, Corr. 10: 264), the speaker declares: ‘Verse and nothing

else have I to give you’ (114). However, he suddenly modifies his stance by claiming that self-revelation is possible through the choice of an unusual variant of his own art, i.e. by writing his only poem in unrhymed trochaic pentameter (117-20). The superfluous examples of two other artists using new media (121-7) defer the climactic private revelation and increase the impatience of the reader, who has already been waiting for more than half of the text. But then Browning suddenly reminds us of his dramatic monologues, saying:

Hardly shall I tell my joys and sorrows,

Hopes and fears, b elief and disbelieving [...] (133-4)

His identity is so determined by his impersonal poetry that he can only make the following statement:

Let m e speak this once in my true person. N ot as Lippo, Roland or Andrea,

Though the fruit o f speech be Just this sentence: Pray you, look on these my men and women. Take and keep my fifty poem s finished;

Where my heart lies, let my brain lie also! (137-42)

Indeed, all he can say in his own voice is that he speaks in it, but despite his metrical originality he cannot verbalise any emotions or thoughts. He merely reiterates the statement with which the poem began.

If he did expose his private self in the poem, this would generate a double paradox. The text is already paradoxical in that it pretends to be a private utterance for an audience of one, while its publication turns it into a public discourse. By at least not making any private revelations in the public text. Browning escapes a second, more pointed paradox. Of course, he could easily have avoided both paradoxes if he had not added the poem to the collection but had inserted it only as an inscription in EBB’s personal copy. The fact that he does not choose this simple expedient implies that, even

if privately communicated, he can never make his poetry a locus for intimate self-

expression.^^

The other purely private reference besides the title is the inadvertent slip o f the pen in the 1855 text which substitutes ‘Karshook’ for ‘Karshish’. Only EBB would at that time have been able to understand the reference to ‘Ben Karshook's W isdom ’, w hich was first published in 1856.

The lack of a personal poetic voice is not to be confounded with J. Hillis Miller’s claim that ‘Browning has no separate life of his own because he lives his hfe in poetry’ and that ‘his “selfhood” must be defined as the failure to have any one definite

self {Disappearance 102 and 105). On the contrary, in the repetition of the dedication

‘Where the / my heart lies, there let the / my brain lie also’ (4 and 142), which is made more personal through the substitution of the definite article by the possessive determiner. Browning insists upon his private identity. He pleads with EBB to accept his impersonal poetry as it is and still to consider it as a token of his private love. He thus tries to attenuate the split of his identity by giving the impression that he achieves a certain unity of self and poetry. Yet the metalinguistic commentary ‘Poor the speech; be how I speak, for all things’ (143) concedes that it is not the ideal fusion of conception and expression.

At this point, the importance of the passage at the centre of the poem describing M oses’ miracle of Meribah (73-108) becomes apparent. It is the closest Browning comes to self-revelation and at the same time offers some explanation as to why he cannot express his self. The observation of Moses - the biblical prototype of the divinely inspired mediator between God and his people and the type of the Christian vatic poet - is a distanced self-observation. The precarious stance of the prophet is not only a common analogy for the poet in the period,^^ but the prophet, whose voice mediates the divine will, is also an apt metaphor for the poet of a dramatic monologue, who lends his voice to his speakers.

The passage illustrates the poet’s desire for a fulfilled private identity (‘man’s jo y ’, 72) while suffering from ‘the artist’s sorrow’ (72), i.e. his burdening self- consciousness and dependence on the public’s appreciation.^^ As Karlin remarks

{Hatreds 95), Browning deviates from the biblical sources by heightening the Israelites’ ingratitude towards their prophet.^* Moses’ acute concern over their depreciation of his miracles suggests how essential the public’s view is to the artist’s self­ conceptualisation. Moses is trapped in a double-bind relationship with the people: by

For a definition o f the poet through the same biblical episode in S ordello, see Chapter V .1.5. Cf. also Alfred de V ig n y ’s ‘M oïse’.

Similarly, Norbert in In a B alcony’ (661-78) and Cleon (273-300) see the sim ple m an’s authentic experience as more valuable than the artist’s know ledge without the benefit o f experience.

The public’s ingratitude is a recurrent concern in B row ning’s poetry and letters. See Karlin

{H atreds Chapter 5) and the analyses o f ‘Popularity’ and the ‘E p ilogu e’ to P acch iarotto in my Chapter IV.

Chapter 11

means of his divinely sanctioned powers, he can command them (‘Bidding drink and live a crowd beneath him’, 75), but his authority only exists as long as they acknowledge him as their prophet. In stating that Moses is one minute immortal and the

next mortal, and adopting for inspiration the phrase ‘Heaven’s gift’ (73) from The

Prelude, Book XIII (Jack and Meredith 5: 480), Browning comes close to W ordsworth’s concept of the poet as a ‘man speaking to men’, not ‘differing in kind

from other men, but in degree’ {Lyrical Ballads 255, 261). He also parallels EBB’s

discussion of the double nature of the poet in Aurora Leigh, published the year after

M en and Women:

O sorrowful great gift Conferred on poets, o f a tw ofold life,

When one life has been found enough for pain! W e, staggering ’neath our burden as mere men.

B eing called to stand up straight as dem i-gods [ ...] (V, 380-84)

In Browning’s poem, the people refuse to conceive of the poet as touching both the human and the divine realm. They either doubt that he can perform miracles or they compel him to assume the public role of the prophet unconditionally, without any space for private affections. Since his identity as the people’s saviour is so utterly dependent on their acknowledgement, Moses eagerly gives them ‘emphatic warrant’ (96) that he is the prophet. In biblical typology, Moses is the most notable Old Testament type of Christ, and the water flowing from the rock at Meribah in particular is interpreted as prefiguring the blood flowing from Christ’s side during his crucifixion.^^ The reference to this préfiguration of Christ’s martyrdom justifies Browning’s decision not to show his private self without letting this appear as a deficiency: although he would like to follow the principle of self-sacrifice for private love (illustrated by the camel which dies so its ‘mistress’ may live, 103-8), he is obliged to sacrifice his private self to and for the benefit of the community. And his lover must understand and approve of this heroic humanitarianism.^®

In spite of the resolution evident in the Moses passage, the comparison with the moon seems to be a final effort at some self-revelation. Again, though, it does not go beyond the statement that Browning like ‘the meanest of [God’s] creatures / Boasts

S ee 1 Corinthians x,4 and Chapter V I.2. On the m iracle’s iconographical tradition, see Cook (Lyrics

235).

To these reasons given by the speaker can be added the third order observation o f the author’s m otives. If ‘One Word M ore’ valued the author’s private voice above the dramatic voices o f his speakers, this would reduce the value o f the collection to which it serves as epilogue.

two soul-sides’ (184-5). There is no hint as to the different nature of his hidden self: ‘What were seen? None knows, none ever shall know’ (180). On the contrary, the