Criticism

I find absurd humor hilarious. It’s dark (my husband could use your prayers) but is there anything funnier than an existential paradox? Consider an example I have been pondering recently: Shakespeare. We hold him in such awe. We teach his work throughout the curriculum, hoping to instill some small fraction of his eloquence and wisdom in our students. We study his kings to inform our political philosophy. We study his comedies to understand love. We study his tragedies to shape our moral bearings. We study his humor…

In Holy Sonnet III, Donne finds himself in a state of violent and prolonged grief, yet unable to cry. He marks the tortuous effects of this condition, even as he admits responsibility for it. Speaking of tears as if they spring from a limited cask, he creates an image of his irresponsible and wasteful usage, which has left him with a water shortage when he most has need of the relief such “showers of rain” would afford him. He remembers the many tears he spent in his pursuit of idolatry and marks them wasted. And yet he cried and sighed and grieved. The waste was his sin, and from this he is forced to repent in his present need, finding himself dry and wasted…

Donne begins this meditative sonnet by giving himself up to God, an act which, he maintains, feels appropriate in consideration of the various titles he possesses and their diverse implications. “As due by many titles I resign / Myself to thee, O God…” He catalogues these appellations: First, he is a creature of God, made by and for Him (“…first I was made / By thee, and for thee…”). Next, he is a redeemed one, re-possessed by Jesus’ blood (“…and when I was decayed / Thy blood bought that, the which before was thine…”). He is God’s son, made for glory (“I am thy son, made with thy self to shine…”). Even so, he remains God’s servant, whom God Himself maintains (“Thy servant, whose pains thou hast still repaid…”). He terms himself God’s sheep, the implication of which is clearly God’s nurturing care. Moreover, in his person, he bears God’s image, the very imprint of the divine. Finally, he embodies the very temple of the Holy Spirit, a living, spiritual house for the Lord. Recalling these seven titles, Donne implies numerically the fullness of the divine claim to him…

“Thou hast made me, and shall thy work decay?” questions Donne in this, his first Holy Sonnet. Using a poetic form that lends itself to question and answer, the poet poses the problem of personal sin even as he petitions his Creator for a solution. Will You allow Your own work to be compromised and destroyed? he asks. This provocative question recalls scriptures which proclaim the enduring nature of God’s work, like this one from Ecclesiastes 3:14: “I know that whatever God does, it shall be forever. Nothing can be added to it, and nothing taken from it. God does it, that men should fear before Him.” Yet sin, Donne asserts, endangers him, God’s good work, so that death, sin’s certain corollary, continually pursues him, swallowing up his pleasures with fear…