2ii. A Broken Perspective – A Little of the Romantic
December 14, 2009
There are many examples of this view, though there is a lot that could be said about the variations between the various key writers in the Romantic era. To take one example; Blake, most notably in his Songs of Innocence and Experience, wrote of the positive aspects of a child’s perception and imagination. Unusually for the Romantics there is also an interesting anticipation of Freud, as in Infant Joy and The Blossom there is a definite sexual element to their innocence. An important distinction with Blake is that unlike many Romantic writers, he does not see innocence as something for regret; experience is necessary for continued development, and ultimately to be ‘born again’ – a Christian influence, coming from the words of Jesus who came out with lines like: “Except ye become as a little child; except ye born again.” I’m not getting to the sexuality of innocence yet though – a can of worms best left to lie for now.
Coleridge was similar in his views, seeing an internal spiritual development to children, and saw innocence as a capacity to feel and imagine. This innocence is undoubtedly positive but is seen to be inevitably lost by societal influence and experience. As a very-useful-writer-for-this-topic, Coveney puts it: “The corrupting serpent lies in the impediments of society, frustrating the enjoyment of his innocence.”
Wordsworth however, focused much more on the psychological and moral aspects of children. He took an unusually philosophical view, drawing influence from Locke, but saw this tabula rasa innocence as visionary and as the ‘seed time of the soul’. This view also shares similarities with Rousseau, as the whole focus of the education of Emile is for him to develop into a strong adult. Wordsworth’s view was that he did see childhood as important, but only as a stepping-stone towards adulthood.
Dickens’ conception was different again, seeing innocence in a much darker and more sentimental way. Perhaps for the first time, in his writings the loss of innocence became something to regret from the adult perspective. For Dickens, innocence was a symbol in the struggle of good against evil, and much of his work explores the innocent child and their struggle against not just corrupted, but genuinely evil characters. The writings of Henry James were similar, in such works as What Masie Knew, the child is surrounded by immorality and depravity but the child remains morally strong and good.
Lewis Carroll, and others such as D.H Lawrence, developed the idea of innocence as both a dark and nostalgic concept. In Alice in Wonderland, the end of the dream-like state actually results in the symbol of death in the “dead leaves that had fluttered down from the trees upon her face…” This wretched nostalgia was taken to its extreme by J.M Barrie, who obsessively wrote on the darkness of lost innocence. Alongside others such as Hugh Walpole and Forest Reid, his work is obsessive to the point of being – quite frankly – disturbingly sexual, as well as being very dark. As Coveney writes on Peter Pan: “Barrie’s story is not even so much the tale of a boy who didn’t want to grow up, but, carrying the sentiment to its deadly conclusion, of the boy who wishes so painfully that he need never have been born.”
In a few short paragraphs we seem to be a long way from Eden. And none of it’s making much consistent sense.
In Wordsworth, innocence is something to be left behind, in Barrie, something to be mourned. In Blake, it is the capacity for imagination that is important; in James it is the moral strength. Some writers support innocence for its own sake, others see it as an important stage to adulthood. This variety in conception can perhaps be explained by two key factors, firstly the psychological condition of the author writing on it; J.M. Barrie and Lewis Caroll’s reputation proceeds them. Secondly, the concept of innocence was frequently used as a means to demonstrate a wider social point. This meant that although innocence seemed to be a universal concept, its meaning varied hugely depending on what it was supporting. Coveney (my authority on all things childhood literature) highlights:
“Frequently, indeed, as in the case of Dickens, there was an amazing inconsistency within the work of the same author. The child is now a symbol of growth and development, and now a symbol of retreat into personal regression and self pity.”
However the Romantic writers did perhaps hold one element in common; the reaction against the Calvinist view that children are naturally sinful. This view was abundant in Victorian society at the time, and many Romantic writers saw this as the corruption of society. Much of Dickens highlighted the terrible conditions of children at the time, and Kingsley highlighted this view, such as in Alton Locke, where through the eyes of her puritanical characters she describes children as “of wrath and of the devil.” As Butler, another commentator, puts it: “The mere fact of being young at all has something with it that savours more or less distinctly of the nature of sin…” Read the papers and it’s easy to see this perception alive and well.
Perhaps the best-known example of this kind of perspective is William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, which needs little explanation. The end of the novel clearly demonstrates the wretched state of the children, and the glory of their adult savior with “a white-topped cap, and above the green shade of the peak was a crown, an anchor, gold foliage.” The point could not be made more explicit as: “Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man’s heart.”
However it was the advent of Freud that firmly took the concept of innocence away from the idealism and symbolism in literature and theology of the 18th and 19th centuries, and into the scientific realm of psychology of the 20th century. It could be said that children’s natural sexuality and the unconscious power of the Id (in other words, a child’s animal instincts) pointed to the idea of original sin, but Freud did not take into account any of the Romantic conceptions, as his investigation was scientific. What could be described as ‘innocence’ in Freud is complex, but what is clear is that Freud scientifically moved past the idealized conceptions of the Romantics, and he has been described by some as the destroyer of innocence for so ruthlessly destroying the Romantic idealism of the innocent child. His scientific discoveries seemed to contradict many of the claims that the Romantics made and it is this “unforgivable” (Coveney again) undermining of the Romantic view, which called into question all the naturalistic views of innocence – particularly the amoral and asexual assumption of childhood – which provokes the question whether there was any substance to the Romantic conception at all.
Even more contrasting perceptions on innocence in literature can be found in more recent days. The contrast with the Christian view of natural innocence can be seen in Philip Pullman’s recent, glorious, epic Dark Materials Trilogy. I will not attempt to delve into the full depth of the novels here (fun though that would be); it is sufficient to highlight Pullman’s continual attack on instutionalised religion. Lyra, the heroine, is the second incarnation of Eve and is destined to Fall; to the ruin of the world, in the eyes of the evilly portrayed church. Her Fall, when it comes, does indeed destroy the wicked church, and in the process also kills God (a move which is wonderfully Nietzschen). Central to the novel is the concept of Dust, seen as original sin by the church, but in actuality is the life force of the universe. The church’s view of children is the Romantic view – children do not attract Dust until maturity, whereupon they become sinful, and the church is seen to do many evil acts to prevent this from happening. As Dust is actually positive, Lyra’s reaching of maturity, sexual awakening and the Fall are positive, which is a clear case that innocence (despite its numerous cognitive abilities highlighted in Lyra and Will’s capacities) is still inferior to adulthood. This complex, but unique example turns the whole Christian based view of natural innocence on its head, and highlights how differently innocence can be seen, even with the same assumption of a ‘natural’ innocence.
To provide yet another contradiction; as opposed to natural innocence, philosophers in the 20th century began to speak of a socially constructed innocence. This move partially originates from reactions of Freud; if children had no natural innocence in the Romantic sense, then the Romantic conception must be a socially constructed one, which could then be criticized for being over sentimentalised and idealized. The Aries thesis of childhood, which stated that childhood was a social invention of the modern era, was also important; if childhood, as an idea, was invented, then undoubtedly so was innocence. However, several modern-day philosophers have rejected this view, saying it is only the conception that has changed, and not the concept itself. If innocence is socially constructed, like any such concept it is inevitably going to vary from culture to culture, making any kind of universal definition very difficult. This led to innocence being used in a much more relative sense in the latter part of the 20th century, and the fog of its usage thickened.
