“The Journey that Never Began : Comparing the symbolic-allegorical and the supernatural interpretations of Coleridge‟s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner”
June 24th , 2011
Master Thesis
2 Table of Contents
1. Introduction 3
2. Structure and Numerology 15 3. Images of the Three Main Events 28
4. Characters 37
5. Conclusion 44
3 1 Introduction
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1798, 1834) is a poem in which an ancient mariner tells of a journey southward that he took a long time ago. The mariner kills an albatross, and he and his crew are heavily punished for the kill. This punishment takes the form of a journey through a string of seemingly supernatural events. Only when the mariner blesses a group of passing water-snakes does he take the steps back to salvation, but he is still haunted by the act of killing, because he will forever be forced to retell his story. There are two opposed critical approaches of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner that have become prevalent in its literary analyses. One interpretation of the poem is straightforward and assumes that it is a tale of the supernatural (Purser). Coleridge has written other supernatural poems, such as “Kubla Khan” (1798) and Christabel (1798). However, Christensen claims that The Ancient Mariner is in fact best defined as an allegory (644-5). This critical approach suggests that Coleridge‟s religious background and the materials used for writing the poem support this. According to this interpretation, Coleridge did use allegory extensively in The Rime. This contradicts what he said in Biographia Literaria (1817)1, namely that “[t]he incidents and agents were to be, in part at least, supernatural” (Coleridge, [1983], 6).
This thesis consists of an analysis of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner2 on the basis of the two approaches mentioned. To this end, I will begin with the structure of the poem and then deal with its imagery and the characters in each case using the two interpretations as the basis for the analysis. The first interpretation, the supernatural, is the one that Purser used. The second interpretation, the allegory, refers to the possibility of an allegorical reading of the poem as Christensen suggests. These interpretations will be compared with what Coleridge claims. It will be argued that a successful interpretation of Coleridge‟s Rime of the Ancient Mariner should include elements of both the supernatural and the allegorical.
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Biographia Literaria appeared after the first version of the poem, but before the last version of it.
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Before the analysis of these two elements can begin, the distinction between allegorical and supernatural will be identified. Normally, one would distinguish related symbols of both supernatural and allegorical in a similar fashion. The Romantics, however, were particularly interested in the relationship between symbol and object and they
distinguished a different relationship between them (Mileur, 329). The Romantics assumed that different kinds of symbols were not necessarily distinguishable in this manner. Moreover, “it is the rediscovery of allegory that [is believed to be] . . . the essential movement of
Romanticism” (Ibid., 330). However, that analysis does not specifically pertain to Coleridge. For Coleridge, it was still different, and he described his thoughts about allegory in The Statesman’s Manual (1816). While this text is not about poetry, Coleridge does use it to define the symbol in a religious sense, and he contrasts it with allegory: “an Allegory is but a translation of abstract notions into a picture-language which is itself nothing but an
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comment to apply also to the symbol in secular literature” (Abrams [2005], 321).
Because Coleridge specifically chose to separate supernatural and allegorical in this manner, it is important to do the same in the analysis of his poetry. This means that when the word symbolic is used in this thesis, it relates to the fixed symbols that Coleridge identifies. Symbolic aspects will therefore relate to the allegorical reading. What logically follows is that if the events or the characters in the poem are allegorical, they do not necessarily exist in the world of the poem. This would result in the reading of the allegory that Christensen
mentioned, meaning that those events or characters are a representation of the kind of choices that every human being could face. This would also mean that the trials that the mariner faces are references to real trials (meaning they do not actually happen), giving the action of the poem a completely different function than what the poet claims in Biographia Literaria. In other words, if Christensen is correct, Coleridge was wrong and contradicted himself.
If the events in The Ancient Mariner are supernatural, however, they actually took place in the world of the poem. This means that Coleridge used the supernatural instead of the allegory discussed above. Coleridge defines the supernatural in the boundaries that divide the “crucial bourn between heaven and back to earth, to man, to a line traced (or retraced, rather, in every imaginative experience) within the mind of man” (Brisman, 125). It is that which is beyond the physical word and the world that man identifies with the self. This would concern imagination in particular, as it is not based upon the fixities of human observation. This means that Purser‟s interpretation coincides with The Statesman’s Manual.
While these two types of interpretation allow an identification of the elements of the poem that suit them, the various editions of the work add some complications to this.
Coleridge spent thirty-four years on the poem. It is entirely possible that the poem was edited to emphasize either the supernatural or the allegorical interpretation. This will also be
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poem. It is important to realise that Coleridge worked consistently on The Ancient Mariner, making most changes in 1800, 1817 and 1828 as well as numerous smaller changes between published editions. In the final version, the marginal gloss that was added in the 1828 version was included and it provides a direct summary of the events in the various stanzas. The cooperation with Wordsworth, through which he started work on the poem, was ended before it could be finished, leaving Coleridge with “a ballad of about 300 lines” (Table Talk, Qtd. in Mays, 365). The Ancient Mariner had become twice that length when it was first published in 1798. It had been expanded and partially rewritten by Coleridge (Mays, 365, Abrams, 417-8, 422-3). The fact that “Coleridge kept returning to The Rime, modernizing, revising, and expanding the poem over a period of thirty-six years, [which] testifies to its momentousness for him” (Hillier, 9). One important difference introduced by the marginal gloss is the change in interpretation, because it does precisely the opposite of the symbolic interpretation that Coleridge apparently favours, namely fix the specific interpretation of the events that the audience is to choose. Christensen describes this as well:
Coleridge has interrupted that continuity and consequently diminished the authority of the symbol by superimposing on the text either prefatory remarks or a marginal gloss, which seem to be intended to situate the text within a broader and more familiar context of meaning, but whose effects are to [de-center] the symbolic locus of the text by placing it in a discomposing field of discourse with competing regions of interest (644).
An aspect of symbolism that is usually associated with the Bible is that of
numerology. The association of numbers with set meanings (such as the ten for perfection, the four for the earth or things created by man [Derovan et al.]) is much like the way a word can symbolise something (such as the word “rose” representing love). This means that if
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of the number two in Hebrew numerology to illustrate duality and unification (Lange). The Hebrew use of numerology used a system where “emanations [of God] created the world[, and these] were known in the form of numbers” (Fulford, 23). Coleridge is directly linked to the Hebrew numerology in his interpretations of Revelation: “Coleridge based his
interpretation on his reading of Jewish traditions, and of Christian versions of them. Central to it was the Kabbalah, an essentially medieval Jewish lore” (ibid.). While it is common to observe rhythmic patterns, numerology can also be applied to the more general structures. These include the use of numbers in the poem‟s contents and the number of stanzas between various parts. The practise of numerological analysis is easily pressed too far, which could result in long calculations to find specific types of numbers3. Still, the basic observation of the numerical pattern does contribute to the view of this poem, especially because it is a highly allegorical aspect according to the definition that Coleridge gave in The Statesman’s Manual. After all, if a number has a set meaning, that is exactly the type of allegory that Coleridge mentioned. If there is a frequent use of such numerology, that will suggest that Coleridge did in fact use allegorical numbers. The lack of a logical reason for the use of certain numbers would mean that these numbers relate to the supernatural interpretation. This means that even though Coleridge talked of a separate use of allegorical and supernatural symbolism in The Statesman’s Manual, he could contradict his earlier statements by using numerology. It is worth noting that in his later life, Coleridge “manifest[s] a retreat from the impossible
ambitions of the symbolic, „High Romantic‟ project and a mature acceptance of their temporal limitations” (Mileur, 331). In other words, he admits that fixed symbols are unavoidable in some measure, even where the supernatural is involved.
A closer observation of the works that Coleridge wrote about poetry, such as
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Biographia Literaria and certain comments in Table Talk (1836) suggests that Coleridge set himself a number of goals, some of which he explained in the former. He claims in that:
The incidents and agents were to be, in part at least, supernatural; and the excellence aimed at was to consist in the interesting of the affections by the dramatic truth of such emotions as would naturally accompany such situations, supposing them real. ( . . . ) [S]ubjects were to be chosen from ordinary life; the characters and incidents were to be such as will be found in every village and its vicinity where there is a meditative and feeling mind to seek after them, or to notice them when they present themselves (Coleridge, [1983], 6).
In these statements, Coleridge identifies interestingness and emotions as necessary parts of his poetry, and announces he will place everyday subjects in a supernatural context to explore the emotions of the subjects. The focus, then, is on the emotions as opposed to the events that take place or the actions of the subjects. Coleridge specifically mentions that the characters are the same as those found in every village and they are ordinary, as opposed to heroic. This is a notion that suits Romanticism (Abrams [2005], 185-7). While this description seems clear enough, Coleridge comments in Table Talk about it being “unformed and immature,”
consisting of “fragments of the truth” that are “not fully thought out” (Coleridge [1990], 293). The statements in Table Talk were made after the final version of the poem, and Coleridge never managed to explain them. Since there is no other work that fully realises these ideas, Biographia Literaria is the most complete work available about this.
In the same chapter of Biographia Literaria, Coleridge discusses the ballad form, and he specifically identifies the use of form as a supportive part of the greater whole of the poem. He believes that an author should use all its aspects for a single goal:
a legitimate poem . . . must be one the parts of which mutually support and explain each other; all in their proportion harmonizing with, and supporting the purpose and known influences of metrical arrangement” (Coleridge, [1983], vol II, 13).
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Manual, because fixing it in one single time and harmony is exactly what he disliked about allegory. Therefore, this means that an increased harmonization of form and content as mentioned here seems to support the allegorical interpretation. However, Coleridge‟s
expostulation is preceded by an explanation of his focus upon the supernatural. He states that The Ancient Mariner was written from that perspective. Moreover, this perspective is
broadened by the distinction between fancy and imagination that he establishes in the previous chapter (13):
The primary IMAGINATION I hold to be the living power and prime agent of all human perception, and as a repetition in the finite mind of the eternal act of creation in the infinite I AM. The secondary I consider as an echo of the former, coexisting with the conscious will, yet still as identical with the primary in the kind of its agency, and differing only in degree, and in the mode of its operation. (. . .) It is essentially vital, even as all objects (as objects) are essentially fixed and dead. FANCY, on the contrary, has no other counters to play with but fixities and definites. The fancy is indeed no other than a mode of memory emancipated from the order of time and space; and blended with, and modified by that empirical phenomenon of the will which we express by the word CHOICE. But equally with the ordinary memory it must receive all its materials ready made from the law of association (Engell and Bate, vol I, 304-5).
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Coleridge identified it, because it is logically difficult to create something new without using fixed elements. One could even claim that both Coleridge and Wordsworth realized that it was essentially impossible to create an accurate definition of the imagination, because crediting humans with divine power will inevitably lead to a problem in defining these elements (Mileur, 330-1).
However, The Ancient Mariner appeared at the start of the Romanticism, before Coleridge wrote about this problem. It appeared in Lyrical Ballads, which was co-written with Wordsworth. The reason why Coleridge joined in the venture to publish the poem was the rather immediate need to make money from it, and that he and Wordsworth believed that the use of “an arresting narrative” was the best way to do so (Beer, 75). The particular form of a ballad was a valid choice for Coleridge because it was common and well-known. Had Coleridge chosen another form, then he would not be able to publish it together with Wordsworth and he had to look for another place to publish it (or wait before publishing). Moreover, the use of a form which was popular since the Middle Ages confirmed one of the goals which he described in Biographia Literaria, namely the use of ordinary life. The ballad was demotic and it was the perfect form for The Ancient Mariner. Still, the way that
Coleridge used the ballad was different from that of the regular ballad: he used different rules. Precursors for this form, which is called a literary ballad, are close to the German form of the long-ballad, and an example mentioned is William and Helen (1796), the translation of a German work called Lenore (ibid.).
11 (Abrams [2005] 80-4, 185-7).
While it goes beyond the scope of this essay to fully discuss the main ideas of Romanticism and their difference compared to the era before, it is useful to mention briefly the Romantic aspects of the subject matter and the poetics that Coleridge used. Romanticism in general is referred to as a new way of displacing the loss of God (Galperin, 357). The reason for this is the fact that the faculties used to identify religious notions before were no longer successful in establishing the relationship between man and God (ibid.):
[Romantics] set out, in various . . . ways, to reconstitute the grounds of hope and to announce the certainty . . . of a rebirth in which a renewed mankind will inhabit a renovated earth where he will find himself thoroughly at home. [They undertook] to save traditional concepts schemes and values which had been based on the relation of the Creator to his creature and creation, but to reformulate them within the prevailing two-term system of subject and object, ego and non-ego, the human mind or
consciousness and its transactions with nature (Abrams, qtd. in Galperin, 357). These views argues, point towards a utopian future that can, according to the Romantics (Wordsworth in particular), be achieved through liberation of the imagination (Sterrenburg, 333). This is similar to Coleridge‟s division of imagination and fancy, because it similarly defines nature as the primary aspect of creation. It also shows that the ideas of Biographia Literaria were representative of Romanticism. Moreover, Coleridge‟s focus shifted more and more towards emotion over the course of his life (Miall, 1-2). If it is indeed a religious idea that underlies Romanticism, then the writing of The Ancient Mariner will have been a part of this, and the religious background of Coleridge himself becomes more important.
It is clear that the tools he used for the writing of the poem are diverse. In Chapter 1 of Biographia Literaria, Coleridge gives a general identification of the works he read during his education, mentioning the Greek and Roman writers Demosthenes, Cicero, Homer,
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among other books Coleridge read there. This is one of the earliest sources of supernatural content that Coleridge had access to. Coleridge kept reading when he moved to London, he read from “the library‟s catalogue, . . . until he had finished everything there” (5). The works of various poets, such as Wordsworth, were also available to him, completing the diverse list of possible works from which he could draw. Two other important intellectual influences on Coleridge‟s beliefs (and religious views) are “epistemological piety” (Brice, 3), and
“theological voluntarism” (4). According to the first of these two religious views, of which Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) is one of the intellectual exponents mentioned, the human is incapable of rationalising the relationship between divine and human (3-4). Theological voluntarism, on the other hand, stresses that God is the perfect being that is connected with creation, with every part of that creation sharing some aspects of God but never enough to define this connection without incorporating the whole of creation (4-5).
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Revealed Religion (delivered from May to June 1795), and these first explored the notion of Unitarianism.
The biggest problem with this view was the epistemological piety, the other part of it that Coleridge believed in. This view returns in the poem as well, and coincides with the views of both the character of the mariner and the personification of nature. The necessary lack of understanding that humans have of the creation as described in the other view makes it difficult for that view to be precise, because if humans cannot rationalize the relationship between themselves and the world, they cannot logically understand creation as a whole. This lack of understanding was addressed with the philosophical separation of natural and man- imposed. The term man-imposed refers to everything that is only created with the human mind. In other words, nature cannot be understood if man-imposed ideas separate parts of it into categories. More specifically, Coleridge used the Greek term logos to define the
difference between the natural (ontic-logos) and the human order (logos). The Unitarian order, then, uses the human mind, the natural word and the creator to explain the difference in logos and ontic-logos (Brice, 96-7) These two combined with the presence of the all-powerful creator result in another kind of trinity defining the universe, so any reference to religious numbers is equally valid in both views. Furthermore, “Coleridge was far less confident in his own symbolic vision of nature than his theoretical statements on the subject seem to suggest” (ibid., 99). This is confirmed by Coleridge‟s return to the Trinitarian view at the time when The Ancient Mariner was written, and the doubt between these two views may well have been present in his mind. This would give him a reason to write about it. If that is the case, then any religious symbolism will likely be connected to this. The use of the number three in a
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supernatural. It is useful to remember that these views match what Galperin, Abrams and Sterrenburg identified as Romantic.
Religious doubts were not the only doubts that have been documented. Descriptions of Coleridge‟s character denote self-doubt as an characteristics, just as enthusiasm (Abrams, 416), and “openness and innocence” (Bate, 5). Coleridge also had much contact with town life in London, where he would have been able to access the pub-talk. This might have led him to at least become acquainted with local folklore and superstition (ibid.).
All these sources and the guessing about the works contained in the libraries Coleridge had access to, leave room for a great deal of speculation. It is clear that “[t]he poem
incorporates and reflects the very wide range of [Coleridge‟s] reading[.] . . . The fact is of great importance, but it should be kept in perspective.” (Mays, 367). It is likely that Coleridge applied a syncretistic method, using what he recalled and needed at the time without
15 2 Structure and Numerology
This chapter focuses upon the use of numerology and structure and their function in the two interpretations of the poem. The use of numerology in the structure of the parts is analyzed, followed by the same type of observation about the smaller structural elements. Any element that is numerological will support the allegorical interpretation, because both types of
numerology deal with fixed numbers and fixed images. After this observation of the form, the contents will be explored and the focus is whether the events are supernatural or allegorical references.
The poem is divided into seven parts, and each part is indicated with a roman numeral. The number seven is a religious number, combining three and four (the numbers for the holy trinity and the world of humans, [Derovan et al., Lange, Parsons, 27-31]). The number of stanzas included in each part is variable4, and there appears to be no logical pattern in these numbers, neither in Greek nor in Hebrew numerology.
The numerological structure of the parts changed between the first version and the revised edition. The fusing of lines 203-211 into a single stanza is significant for the pattern of the stanzas. After the change, there is a set pattern that proceeds as follows. Before a part actually starts, the events that are central to that part begin, and there is a set numerical pattern for this. This pattern is one of five-six that repeats itself in the remaining parts. The line “At length did cross an albatross” (l. 63) signifies the start of the second part, because the
appearance of the albatross ends the storm and helps bringing favourable winds. This occurs five stanzas before the second part. Similarly, the events of the fourth part begin with “The Sun‟s rim dips; the stars rush out: / At one stride comes the dark;” (l. 199-200), which is also five stanzas before the part actually begins. This line shows the transition into darkness that is broadened in the next part. The transition between the fifth and sixth part is started in the line
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“She made a sudden bound: / It flung the blood into my head, / And I fell down in a swound” (l. 390). This “swound” is where the change in the mariner‟s fate is first debated and then put into action. Again, this is five stanzas before the next part, meaning that the numerical five occurs three times.
The remaining parts start six stanzas before the actual part is mentioned. The line: “Water, water, every where” (l. 119) signifies the change after the second part, beginning the parched suffering and the transition in the state of the ship. “The moving Moon went up the sky” (l. 263) initiates the fifth part, which, according to the gloss starts the relief from the suffering that came before (albeit without tangible salvation), because the mariner is still alone on his ship. “Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat” (l. 488) starts the events of the final part, for the seraph-men (l. 490) are the ones who move the ship to the place where the mariner is saved. Again, three occurrences of this numerical pattern.
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became a religious symbol of Christ. The number ten, therefore, was a direct reference to the word “Christ.” This means that the pattern of the poem consists of two mirroring tens (or crosses), which coincide with the mirroring of the two main events of the story (These will be discussed in more detail later). However, the number six in Christian traditions is associated with evil and incompleteness. This association exists because six is one short of seven and therefore imperfect (Parsons, 30). The significance of these numbers depends on the type of numerology Coleridge associated them with, but either approach could emphasize the mariner‟s position in the story or even the contrasting aspects of the spirits of good and evil that occur in the poem. Either of these would support Coleridge‟s goal to make every formal aspect a part of the whole, but it is important to consider the possibility that Coleridge simply enjoyed numerical patterns for their systematic or symmetrical beauty rather than for
symbolic purposes.
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horizontal rhyme (instead of just end-rhyme) to form another cross-symbol (57).
The first of these structures is the addition of a single line, which is always in iambic tetrameter or iambic trimeter that rhymes with a line of a similar pattern. An example of this is found in lines 157-161:
With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, We could nor laugh nor wail:
Through utter drought all dumb we stood! 160 I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,
And cried, A sail! a sail!
The final line rhymes with line 158, and adds emphasis to the final line and the extra rhyme of “stood” (l. 159) and “blood” (l. 160), which gains extra emphasis as well. Wherever it occurs, this change in stanzaic patterns is prompted by the contents of the story. This change does not appear to serve any numerological pattern.
The second of these structures features the addition of two lines. These two lines still obey the rhythmic pattern, again being set in iambic tetrameter or trimeter. This structure has numerological significance as well, because the events in these stanzas are invariably
connected to bad events or sights. This means that the number six (incomplete or bad) is relevant even here. In lines 335-340, that pattern is clearly present, and the last two lines show the grim sight of the contents as well:
335 The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; Yet never a breeze up blew;
The mariners all „gan work the ropes, Where they were wont to do;
They raised their limbs like lifeless tools – 340 We were a ghastly crew.
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barely hold together, its “sloping masts” (l. 45) and its “dipping prow” (l. 45) showing the power of the storm.
The last of these structures is the fusing of two stanzas, and it occurs only once, namely in lines 203-211:
We listened and looked sideways up! Fear at my heart, as at a cup,
205 My life-blood seemed to sip!
The stars were dim, and thick the night,
The steersman‟s face by his lamp gleamed white; From the sails the dew did drip –
Till clomb above the eastern bar 210 The horned Moon, with one bright star
Within the nether tip.
The fact that this occurs only once suggests that it could have been connected with the completion of the pattern. There seems to be no reason to make this change other than an attempt to complete the numerical pattern. In this stanza, the rhythmic pattern is changed completely, as is the rhyme scheme, but the only change is in the ordering. Lines 205, 208, and 211 have three beats, with line 208 venturing from the iambic pattern by starting with an anapaest (which creates a build-up of stress in this sentence, similar to the “by his lamp” in the previous line, and starts the break before the double dash at the end of 208). The other lines in this stanza all have four beats, and the iambic pattern is maintained. The exceptions found here are line 204, which starts with a trochee, and, as I explained above, line 207 inserts an anapaest as well in the words: “by his lamp,” which also results in extra emphasis on the “white,” the last word of that line.
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men nor beasts we ken –”), where “men” and “ken” support the unknown of the other elements mentioned in that line. Similarly, the words “thump” and “lump” (l. 218) enhance the contradiction between the mariner and his crew, and illustrate the rapidity of their death. The fact that these rhymes are relevant to the stress pattern once again suggests symbolic importance and the emphasizing of the internal rhyme in particular favours the allegorical, because of the symbol of the cross.
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killed the bird / That made the breeze to blow” (l. 93-4) and “For all averred, I had killed the bird / That brought the fog and mist” (l. 99-100). The repetition, like the other aspects of the structure, is symbolically relevant, because it too coincides with the important aspects of the action of the story, further magnifying the contrasts that the mariner establishes through his tale.
Besides repetition, Coleridge also uses assonance in some stanzas. This could be considered an imitation of the ballad form in the historic sense as well, but, moreover, it is used to contrast the aspects of the story and to generate levels of emphasis. An example of a cluster, in this case of the /i/, is found in: “him with his glittering” (l. 12), “wedding-guest,” “still” (l. 13), “listens like,” “child” (l. 14) and “his will” (l. 15), where 12 out 29 syllables in the stanza use an /i/. The lines 115-118 show a contrast in syllabic construction, because the first and third line contain a high number of syllables with /a/: “Day after day, day after day” (l. 115) and “As,” “as a painted” (l. 117), whereas lines 116 and 118 contain a lot of syllables with /o/: “nor,” “nor motion” (l. 116) and “Upon,” “ocean” (l. 118). This juxtaposition of syllables contrasts both passing of time (“day after day”) and an absence of motion (“nor breath nor motion,” l. 116). This form of assonance is predominantly symbolic because it decreases the significance of the specific contents in favor of the pattern used to deliver them. This change is not a great one, however, and there is no conclusive evidence to suggest that this is what Coleridge used the pattern for.
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conversation in the same way. The use of this conversational approach generates sympathy (Gérard, 79-80) and it is most likely that this was the intent .
Returning, then, to the story of the mariner, one might observe that it focuses on a single journey, and it is told chronologically. The action of this journey focuses on several key events, but an important source makes it worthwhile to test the possible background of this journey for realism before continuing to investigate the two possible interpretation.
Wordsworth claimed that “[t]he idea of „shooting an albatross‟ was [his], for [he] had been reading Shelvocke‟s Voyages, which probably Coleridge never saw” (Qtd. in Lowes, 223, italics removed, also in Soule, 287) Still, there are many similarities in the journey itself, such as the direction it travels and the description of the section at the south pole and the creatures present (Lowes 222-8, Soule, 287). This means that Coleridge probably did have access to Shelvocke‟s work (which appeared in 1726) because of the significant degree of similarity between Shelvocke and some of the passages in The Ancient Mariner (ibid.). The fact that William Wales taught Coleridge at school also adds to this, because Wales had served with Captain Cook, and his occupation as an astronomer on that vessel would have certainly been a means of learning maritime affairs as well (Carlyle). Either or both of these sources could have given Coleridge information on sailing, Wales through his past experience and
Shelvocke through his knowledge as a privateer (ibid.). Shelvocke used that knowledge in the conception of his Voyages, and one example of this is the discussion of the storm in the beginning and the captain‟s reasoning that follows (10). In Shelvocke, the full journey occurs precisely as the title suggests. The most important aspects of the management of a ship by the captain are mentioned, and the introduction gives a basic appraisal of the ship‟s size, saying it has 32 cannons (xiv), and detailing its mission in the pages that follow. Shelvocke also speaks of the management and superstition aboard, which causes a mutiny (this is mentioned
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Mariner, however, the ship has no clear destination, nor is there any indication of a goal of the journey. This would suggest that the journey itself is more important than destination or the delivery of the materials on board.
A significant aspect of the journey is the symbolic fact that the latitudes form a cross (Pechey, 51-2). While the Christian symbolism of the cross is obvious, the image of
Shelvocke‟s journey (Lowes, 228) and its extensive use contradicts this statement, because the figure of the cross is not maintained there. Still, Coleridge only mentions geometric5 straight lines in his description of the journey, so the form of the cross could be observed in these geometric lines. This will be discussed in more detail in chapter 3. Using these lines would add another problem to the journey, however, and that problem lies in the factor of time.
This problem arises in the ordering of time throughout this journey along the straight geometric lines described above. The problem consist of three basic parts. The first is the description of the travelling speed, supplies and crew of the ship in accordance with its journey. The second is the fact that the only source of information about the ship is the poem itself. This is the story as told by the mariner and the mariner is the one who tells the story as he remembers it, but that means that he might purposefully or even unconsciously exaggerate. The third is the fact that the ship has no destination, and, that the information about the ship and the journey may therefore not have been as important to Coleridge as they were to Shelvocke, who drew from the experience of sailing as opposed to Coleridge, who was well-read without much real-life experience. If this journey is indeed the same as the journey that Shelvocke wrote about, it is something that is realistically possible, meaning it is neither supernatural nor allegorical. However, if the journey is not realistic but symbolic, then
Christensen‟s allegorical interpretation becomes more likely. If the use of time forces the ship
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through supernatural means, then the journey is not a symbolic journey, which would invalidate the allegorical interpretation of the journey itself.
The journey takes too long for the ship to supply the crew with enough food and fresh water without stops, and the description of the speed the ship reaches when compelled by spirits is too high. I will investigate the journey, looking at the descriptions found in the poem, measuring them against the realistic images that historical data gives. If the journey is not possible, or even unlikely with supernatural means, this will lead to the conclusion that the nature of it is symbolic.
The starting point of the journey is likely to have been Watchet, a small place situated near the path from Quantocks to Exmoor, in the south of England (Mays, 368-9 and 409). The reason for this is that Coleridge and William and Dorothy Wordsworth were there a week before work on the poem began and it was a suitable place to use for the poem (409). The type of ship capable of mooring in the harbour of Watchet is shown as well (ibid.). The mariner later describes the crew size of his ship as “four times fifty living men” (l. 216). It is highly unlikely that the ship is a warship, because there is no mention of any armaments; furthermore, it travels alone, and, as has been mentioned above, has no clear destination. In 1798, there were many possible ships that the mariner could have been on, but because he is ancient6 by that time, the ship described would probably be a three mast trade vessel if the crew number and armaments are correct. The reason for this is the availability of English ships commonly made in the fifty years before (the types available are in Meijer et al.). This means that the ship‟s load could be considerable, but its rations would not be. Such a ship, according to the poem, moves towards the equator, as is said in line 29-30, when the sun literally passes “over the mast” (l. 30). Here, the words “every day” (l. 29) still show a clear passing of time. When the storm comes, however, the mariner switches to adjectives of
6
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present time: “And now” (l. 41, 51), and the amount of time that passes is no longer clear, but considering that the storm “pursued” (l. 46) the ship until the crew sees “mist and snow” (l. 51), a single storm followed them all the way to the south pole (geographically the only place where they could see ice and snow if the ship moves southward from its starting point). Disregarding the damage that the storm does, such as “sloping masts” (l. 45), the ship would need to be on its way for weeks now, and because the storm prevented any chance of
resupply, this would put the entire crew in a precarious position.
“At length” (l. 63) again suggests the passing of time and the subsequent feeding of the albatross (l. 67) might drain the food supplies. There is no apparent reason why the mariner kills the albatross, and the transition between the part of the appearance of the albatross (l. 71-4) and its killing (l. 79-82) is very sudden. Only the decreasing food supply might give the mariner a practical motive to kill the albatross, because it follows “every day, for food or play” (l. 73), again showing a passing of time. In the killing of the albatross, the decision is taken entirely out of the poem, only the regret that the mariner feels afterward is shown. In Biographia Literaria, Coleridge claimed to focus on the emotions, yet the emotions at the time of the most defining event of the mariner‟s story are left out.
The marginal gloss to lines 103-6 mentions how the ship crosses the line again, this time northward, showing more time passing, which means that the ship has travelled all the way back. Even with favourable winds, this would take a long time and therefore cost more supplies. In line 115, “day after day” suggests that more time passes, and line 122 shows the first signs of the water running out, but this does not happen due to a lack of supplies. Instead, this seems to be the intervention of the supernatural, because “all the boards did shrink” (120). “There passed a weary time” (l. 143) again makes clear that the journey takes longer and longer.
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suggest that only a single day passes in this part. Only in line 261 does the mariner again signify how much time passes: “Seven days, seven nights.” This refers to the Bible (Job 2:13), and seems to be another occurrence of an allegorical number. By now, the mariner has spent all this time without sleeping, eating or drinking, and he himself considers this unusual: “And yet I could not die” (l. 262).
The period of sleep mentioned in line 292 is also undetermined, although it does show how the mariner is once again capable of drinking when it rains: “My lips were wet, my throat was cold” (l. 301). When the wind makes the ship move again (l. 309), not a single night has passed, because the moon is still in the sky (l. 321). The winds favour the mariner when the day dawns in 350 and passes to noon in 373, the ship moves northward, meaning it travelled for a single day by the time it stops again (l. 382). Then, once more through seemingly supernatural means, the ship travels north again (“The air is cut away before, / and closes from behind” l. 424-5) while the mariner is unconscious (l. 392). The note to line 430 states that “[t]he supernatural motion is retarded” when it ends, meaning that Coleridge himself wanted this to seem supernatural. This means that in the period of two days (l. 436 ends the second), the ship travels from the equator to the mariner‟s “own countree” (l. 467). The problem is that the discussion of the two spirits concerns the mariner‟s redemption, and this is the central element of this part (VI). The discussion of souls that get saved or not saved depending on the acts of the past is a common element of allegories (Abrams [2005] 5), and the note that clarifies that it is indeed a discussion between spirits only enhances this.
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questionable and these points ultimately lead one to conclude that the use of time is symbolic rather than precise, or that Coleridge has no knowledge of maritime affairs, which is less likely because of Coleridge‟s background. Besides, it is also very likely that Coleridge had read several books of travel, because Mays mentions that the “conscious use of books of travel is particularly evident in the earlier sections of the poem” (l. 367). From the
biographical details on Coleridge‟s own life, there is not much clear travelling experience to mention, and it is therefore unlikely that Coleridge drew upon his own experiences, because his journey to Germany in 1798 (Brett, XII) is the first one that takes him far from England, and the subsequent travels in 1804-6 (Brett, XIV) were undertaken after the first version of The Mariner was published.
28 3 Images of the Three Main Events
This chapter discusses some of the central images used in the poem, and focuses on the three main events in the poem. These events will be related to the religious background that Coleridge had and through this, the supernatural and allegorical elements in this images will be explored. The broader structure of the poem, which was discussed in the previous chapter, will also be considered.
The action in the poem is concentrated around two main events, each equally
important to the mariner and to the warning that the mariner gives the wedding guest. These are the shooting of the albatross (l. 82) and the blessing of the water-snakes (l. 285). The structural emphasis on the change in the mariner‟s situation after he shoots the albatross (l. 82) was mentioned above, and there is a similar change after the mariner blesses these water-snakes. This is immediately made clear: “my kind saint took pity on me” (l. 286), and the repetition (l. 287) emphasizes the blessing once more, which restores the mariner‟s ability to pray, and allows the albatross to fall off his neck (l. 289).
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with the pelican and, accordingly, with Christian iconography (Pechy, 53). The image that the pelican represents is either the natural world or Christ, who revives the dead through his blood7. He also states that Coleridge could have known about this through Cook’s Voyages, which appeared in 1769 (ibid.). As was mentioned in chapter 2, Wales, the astronomer on Cook‟s ship, was Coleridge‟s tutor in Christ‟s Hospital, the place where Coleridge was educated after his father‟s death (Carlyle, Beer [2008]). The reference to Christ figures is voiced several times throughout the poem (Hillier, 12-4), and is used to generate sympathy, which Coleridge considers an important element of redemption. A complication that relates to this idea is the fact that it is a dice game (and therefore chance) that decides some of the punishment for the killing of the albatross (l. 68-9) – redemption is not delivered logically, but randomly, and the mariner is spared even though he is the one who killed the albatross and it is hung around his neck (l. 141), rather than the neck of a man of his crew (Bostetter). This is a biblical reference as well, because after Jesus is crucified, his clothes are divided by a dice game (Matthew 27:35). In other words, the divine order is not in the least bit understandable, nor does it seem to be just. This is exactly what was referred to earlier as epistemological piety, and it once again shows the syncretistic methodology of Coleridge‟s poetry. However, there is a moral explanation that provides justice: the crew are absorbed by their own common life and goals, causing them to be unaware of the more experienced look that the mariner has, and when the supernatural events remove their direct control of the world around them, they loose the illusionary control they have over their environment. When this control is lost, they can only maintain their narrow and superstitious views instead of the broader religious views that have been mentioned here (Beer, 72).
The blessing of the water-snakes is the point where the events in the poem begin to
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change, allowing the mariner to slowly free himself from the punishment that has been exacted upon him. It was mentioned before that it is at the point that the mariner prays. While the connection between the albatross and Christ is clear, Hiller suggests that the mariner is a Christ figure as well. If the mariner is indeed a Christ figure, then the requirement of a saint to pray (l. 286) is a peculiar one, as is the act of killing the albatross. Hillier, therefore, appears to be mistaken here, and the significance of the mariner‟s blessing is merely that through this, he recognises the unity of the world (theological voluntarism), and he negates the previous act of destruction (and sin against the divine order). The lesson the mariner speaks at the end of the poem confirms this: “He prayeth well, who loveth well / Both man and bird and beast” (l. 612-3), and the note Coleridge placed next to these lines emphasizes this further: “love and reverence to all things that God made and loveth.” A confirmation of this comes from Coleridge himself, because Coleridge felt that “affection and union with others” with “no allegiance to more individual interests in the outer world which might flaw [one‟s] complete devotion” (Harding, 55), is the source of his innocence in Coleridge‟s “The Pains of Sleep,” and the mariner‟s lack of this is his crime. Moreover, it is the mariner‟s own judgment as well as that of the spirits that makes him suffer throughout his penance, because the mariner describes a sense of worthlessness (Harding, 53-4).
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70). This identification explains the murder of the albatross and adds another symbolic meaning to the fact that the mariner needs to drink his own blood before being able to speak when all the water has disappeared (l. 160-161). According to the religious views that Coleridge had, drinking one‟s own blood would also be a sin against the order of the world, for it too is the wanton destruction of a part of creation. The note here confirms this: “at a dear ransom he freeth his speech from the bonds of thirst.” It is important to note here that there is no apparent resurrection of the albatross, but the crewmembers are resurrected as angelic figures here, so it does coincide with the reference of resurrection through blood. The later stanzas in which the crewmembers perform a similar act (ll. 475.1.1-475.1.22) were removed, and although this was probably because they were “too Gothic and too graphic” (Mays, 408), they mirror the mariner‟s act of self-destruction, even though they are no longer human. The penance that the mariner is forced to do later is also similar to that of Cain, though not quite the same, because Cain can no longer work the land whereas the mariner only needs to share his story.
One might observe that both these points are mirror opposites, because they signify both the sin and the atonement for this sin. The redemption is the safe return that begins in the blessing of the water-snakes and the sin is the lack of love for all living things, which can be seen in the murder of the albatross. There is a third event, however, that is equally important, because it is the unifying factor of these two aspects of the poem as well as the connection between the mariner and the wedding guest. This element is the concluding one, and it is the point where the narration is no longer in the mariner‟s hands, but rather in that of the
unidentified omniscient narrator that announces the final two stanzas as well as the
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could: a rationale or, more specifically, a result. The story resulted in the wedding guest becoming wiser and sadder, forgoing the celebration of the wedding for an isolation similar to that of the mariner. According to the narrator, this shows greater wisdom than the previous course that the guest would have followed (because he “[t]urned from the bridegroom‟s door” [l. 621]), and the whole of the poem leads to that result. The mariner fulfilled his purpose, for his wisdom has been passed on. He fulfilled his penance, for he relived the pain he suffered before by talking about it. The reader of the poem bears witness to both of these events, and it is here that potentially allegorical aspects of the poem come in: the reader of the poem can learn from the story much like the wedding guest did. It is of no small significance, then, that neither the mariner nor the wedding guest has a name, and that their characteristics are left equally vague. The characters will be discussed individually in the next chapter.
In between the three key events, there are several instances where the supernatural and symbolic aspects of the spiritual and divine are explored. The strange weather conditions that place the ship in this position are more likely to be symbolic rather than supernatural, but the appearance of “slimy things” that “crawl with legs / Upon the slimy sea” (l. 125-6) could hardly be the same. A possible explanation for the “slimy things” is found in Shelvocke, where they are identified as a kind of water snake similar to the ones that the mariner later blesses (l. 288, Soule). This would only make their presence in the polar region a supernatural event. Another option, of course, is to assume that they are a figment of the imagination of the crew and they are simply the same bright colour as that of the ice encountered earlier in the poem (l. 54). It is less likely that this is the case, because it would force one to question everything the mariner relates, and it would weaken sympathy for him.
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rather than through supernatural means. It is quite common in both novels and poetry that a ship is used “to spell out a moral or religious message concerning the fate of man” (Eitner, 287), and if this is the case here, then that would support the notion of a symbolic journey more. The earlier sloping masts and dipping prow (l. 45), and the recovery at the time when the albatross comes around on the ship (l. 69-70) confirm this connection. As the men wither and die, the ship seemingly does the same, and in the opposition between “they all dead did lie” (l. 237) and “a thousand thousand slimy things / Lived on; and so did I” (l. 239), there is a similar connection as in the stanza that follows: “upon the rotting deck” (l. 241), “there the dead men lay” (l. 242). These two instances compare both the mariner and the ship to the crew, and in the same part, the ship‟s shadow (l. 269, 271) is the reason why the mariner is capable of seeing the water-snakes that are “shining white” (l. 274).
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unable or unwilling to see the positive aspect even in retrospect, despite the superior
experience that he now has. Moreover, it is entirely possible that the light is a kind of will-o‟-the-wisp (also commonly referred to as “death-lights,” “light-wisps” and sometimes as ignis fatuus, [Oxford English Dictionary]), which would make the image correspond to the rest of the poem. Still, it is also possible that the light is connected to the mariner in the same way that the ship is connected to the mariner, meaning that it becomes as gloomy as his condition, and that the other light is a marker of the impending form of salvation that follows.
Throughout the poem, Coleridge makes use of the personification of elements of nature. This again starts with the storm, which is given human perseverance by chasing the ship downwards, but the same is true for the ice, which becomes like a prison guard. The water around the ship seems to come alive in the form of the aforementioned “green and slimy things” (l. 124), and even death itself is happily playing a dice game (l. 187-196), which thrills him when it is won. At least one spirit is revealed in the note to lines 131-134 as the source of some of the suffering that befalls the crew when the natural balance is broken. Coleridge‟s world view divided spirits into three types, with the seraphim being close to God, the demons close to Satan and the daemons being anything in between (Lowes 233-8). He used both seraphim and daemons in particular for The Ancient Mariner. The identification for the polar spirit is found in the brief description of the daemonology that Coleridge used (ibid.): this spirit is one of those “who are the punishers of souls, converting them to a more perfect and elevated life” (Taylor in his edited version of the Platonic Hermias. Qtd.in Lowes, 236). Another example of this is the epigraph, because it shows a division of spirits between good and evil, but supposes them real agents in this world.
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could be a divine test, or perhaps it is similar to the spirits of good and evil battling for the souls of the characters in allegorical texts (such as the morality plays, see Abrams [2005], 174). An example of such an allegorical text is The Pilgrim’s Progress (1678), which gives a similar view to these allegorical texts on the protagonist‟s journey to salvation (Abrams, 6). The personification of “abstract entities” such as “states of mind” and “virtues” are a central aspect of allegories (ibid.). It is possible that Coleridge had read such texts, and his section on allegory in The Statesman’s Manual would suggest so. It is at least certain that Coleridge had written parts of allegorical texts as well, such as “Allegoric Vision” (1811, The Courier, [Coburn, 3:2]), and that he had detailed knowledge about them (Fried, 764). The earlier explanation of Coleridge‟s use of logos and ontic-logos provides a viable explanation for the perception of these aspects of nature as living things. The Unitarian world view meant that the natural world (ontic-logos) is observed through the mind (logos), and this would allow the world to be seen as a living thing by someone who lives. Similarly, the ontic-logos could explain the presence of spirits, because the logos cannot rightly explain or objectively perceive them. The definition of aspects of nature as persons or the complete personification of these aspects is part of this, because the self is analogous to nature according to this belief (Brice, 96-7).
The layered construction of the poem allows two possible interpretations of the personification that are relevant for this thesis. The first of these two options is that the poem reflects Coleridge‟s beliefs. The second is that Coleridge imposed the views of the mariner on the world of the story. This would ensure that the focus is on the character of the mariner, despite the fact that he is telling about the journey at this point. It is equally possible, and perhaps more likely, that it is a combination of these two options, using the latter to achieve the former.
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37 4 Characters
This chapter focuses on the main characters in the poem, observing both the way they are described and the way they relate to one another. The mariner is the central character in this, because he plays such a prominent role in the poem, and all the other characters are defined mainly through how they react to him and his behaviour. These reactions could support either a supernatural or an allegorical interpretation of the poem, especially if one of the characters has a similar position to that of the main character in allegorical texts, namely that of the “everyman” that is meant to represent every member of the audience. This is why the mariner is discussed first.
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polar spirit in l. 377-82) and he is capable of distinguishing between apparitions of the dead that are evil (l. 194) and those that are good, calling them “a troop of spirits blest” (l. 349) despite the fact that they performed heretic acts in the 1798 version (ll. 475.1.1-475.1.22).
It is unknown, then, who the mariner is even though he is the most significant
character of the story. The descriptions of him do not move beyond adjectives that describe an old man, such as “ancient” (title, l. 1) and “grey-beard” (l. 11). It is also unknown what his age was at the time of the story, and even the question of whether he is a normal man or a spirit only gets his own answer to it. Coleridge is vague in his notes as well, saying that the mariner “assureth him” (l. 230-233) instead of using a more specific “he is.” This vagueness strengthens the supernatural aspects of the mariner, and it is also unknown what the mariner‟s motives are for acting the way he does. As stated before, there is no clear destination for the ship, nor is there any hint of the mariner‟s reasons for killing the albatross. The possible motivations mentioned above are not made definite anywhere. Only when the mariner
analyses the situation with the albatross, does it become clear that it results in his punishment. The mariner is:
[a man], whose tale in turn involves the different fates accorded to himself, who through crime has been made to see the nature of the universe behind the humanly-imposed fictions of space and time, and who must therefore live a „life-in-death‟, haunted by, but not possessed of, what he has seen, and to his shipmates, whose attitude to his shooting of the albatross never rose above a „superstition‟ associated always with their own comfort, and whose worst punishment would therefore be their own death (Beer [1971], 72).
This analysis fits well with the broader imagery of the poem, and it allows both
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(“The man hath penance done”, l. 408). This knowledge is the main difference between his fate and that of his crew, who are still unenlightened.
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he looks. The crew‟s eyes turn glazed when they are falling under the curse of the drought, but their eyes can still judge after their demise, only to become unmoving afterward.
Similarly, the stony eyes of the seraph-men are devoid of judgment, where those of the hermit are capable of seeing what the pilot and pilot-boy cannot see, which is strange because they are both trained to see such things. This means that the Romantic ideal of innocent over experienced (Beer, 72) does not apply. Moreover, the entire story is seen through the eye of the mariner and his changing judgment of the world (like his view on the water snakes, which changes from abhorrence to admiration) is the main drive for the story.
In the poem, the narrative is completely controlled by the mariner, save for a few specific instances where the wedding guest interrupts or where the omniscient narrator takes over. The wedding guest only interrupts three times and these instances are all at important points in the story. The first is where the mariner admits to shooting the albatross (l. 79-81), the second is at the time when the mariner relates how his entire crew died while he was spared (l. 224-229), and the third time is when the mariner describes the angelic figures aiding him by steering the ship (l. 345). These interruptions all question the nature of the mariner; first his appearance, then his life, and finally his goodness is brought to question. The mariner refutes the allegations, but he brings nothing more than a single sentence to do this, despite the fact that they coincide with important points in the action of the story – the crime,
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The warnings by the mariner and the questioning at the key moments demonstrate that the character of the wedding guest is in many ways a reflection of what the mariner was before he made the fatal mistake that led to his predicament. The reflection becomes apparent by the way in which the wedding guest reacts. He feels compelled to listen to the story, yet he still manages to ask relevant questions at the key moments: it is his question that demonstrates the mariner‟s sorrow at the moment of the crime and his fear that defines the mariner‟s human or spiritual qualities. The guest also has the questioning and condemning eyes that the mariner showed when confronted with the supernatural images he described, which is confirmed by the aforementioned interruptions. Because the mariner takes the guest away from the three that initially walked in, the wedding guest also becomes isolated. At the end of the poem, the wedding guest does not attend the wedding, nor does he rejoin the rest of the people at the wedding. In other words, in wisdom he is alone, just like the mariner. This is confirmed by the fact that “the Wedding-Guest, the innocent man of sense, is interrupted by the „experienced‟ mariner” (Beer, 72).
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intervened, the wedding-guest would indeed attend the banquet, and therefore bear witness to his own final Passover, making the same mistakes that the mariner warns him about. It is therefore important that the wedding-guest “[t]urned from the bridegroom‟s door” (l. 621), and this once again demonstrates the success of the mariner‟s intervention. Even if the
bridegroom represents Christ (as in the Biblical story), that means that Christ will not need to attend the final banquet, because he does not need to die without sins to take away.
The wedding guest is not the only character who reflects a part of the character of the mariner, but in the case of the hermit, there is a difference. The hermit is a character that is the opposite of the mariner in many ways. Firstly, the hermit loves to talk with mariners (l. 517), and shares some company (a pilot and a pilot‟s boy, at least, but likely more l. 504, 523, 539). This means that he does not suffer the same sense of loneliness that afflicts the mariner. The adjective “good” (l. 509, l. 514) is used in conjunction with the hermit twice before the hermit himself speaks any words and unlike the mariner, the hermit does have some specific aspects of his character identified quickly (l. 517-522). These characteristics demonstrate that the hermit sleeps in the wood and respects the natural life around him, and these are again the opposite of the mariner at the time of the story. Moreover, the hermit also steers toward the ship even when the pilot and pilot‟s boy want to turn back (l. 538-541), meaning he
overcomes the fear that both the mariner and the wedding guest share, and because he does so, he protects the people around him from doing the wrong thing, again the opposite of what the mariner does.
This means that the hermit and the wedding guest serve to show parts of the mariner, and the mysterious nature of all three characters points towards the allegorical interpretation. None of these characters have a proper name, they are only identified by what they do,
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44 Conclusion
Throughout this thesis, two interpretations of The Ancient Mariner have been explored: the supernatural and the allegorical. These two interpretations have been tested on the structure of the poem, its main events and its characters. Although the supporters of these interpretations seem to oppose one another, neither of the two interpretations has a strong enough case to successfully analyse the whole poem. Moreover, the understanding of these two
interpretations is made more difficult by the way in which the Coleridge separated symbolic, supernatural and allegorical. He envisioned the supernatural as his goal in Biographia
Literaria, but associated allegory with religion in The Statesman’s Manual, and combined that use with symbolism in his religious philosophic theories (theological voluntarism and
epistemological piety). This meant that for Coleridge, symbolism and allegory were closely intertwined, even though he was opposed to allegory in The Statesman’s Manual. That opposition is weakened further by the fact that Coleridge actually wrote an allegory after The Statesman’s Manual appeared. But even here, he was not consistent. The motto of The Ancient Mariner is clearly supernatural, as are some of the notes in the marginal gloss, but these notes contradict Coleridge‟s views on imagination in Biographia Literaria, where Coleridge specifically states that The Mariner is a work of imagination.
In terms of the structure, the use of numerology in the division of the poem into seven parts as well as those stanzas that deviate from the usual pattern in the poem is allegorical. The
Kabbalistic background of Coleridge‟s knowledge of numerology is the reason for this. However, the use of repetition and assonance to mimic the ballad form coincides with what Coleridge said he intended in Biographia Literaria, and it is therefore more closely related to what he planned, and more likely not allegorical at all.
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religious symbolism. It is possible that the entire journey is symbolic. The ship cannot
physically sail to its location in the amount of time given for this in the poem, which confirms the symbolic use of time. Since Coleridge used Shelvocke to describe the water-snakes and to plot the course of the ship, he would have had access to the details of times and supplies required on such a voyage. Still, there is still no definite proof for any of these possibilities.
Two of the three main events in the mariner‟s journey, namely the shooting of the albatross and the blessing of the water-snakes, are related to religious imagery of punishment and salvation. In the first event, the Mariner commits a sin against nature and he shoots the albatross, which symbolizes both Christ and nature. Coleridge was inspired to write about this by Wordsworth, with whom he began to work on the poem. Imagery of crosses surrounds every mention of this albatross, and because of the shooting of it, the Mariner and his crew are sent to their punishment. The Mariner is only saved after he blesses the water-snakes. His repentance, however, will last indefinitely. The imagery of salvation suggests that there these events might not have taken place either, but refer instead to the religious undertone of the third main event, which is found in the end, where the Wedding Guest learns his lesson and turns from the wedding. This last event proves that the Wedding Guest has changed before committing the same kind of crime that the Mariner committed.
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and that makes the wedding guest represent pre-fallen Adam, enabling him to remain in a sort of Paradise, where nature is still respected.
All these allegorical aspects still leave several things to question, the foremost of these being the character of the Mariner. He must be supernatural, either as a spirit cursed by Life-in-Death or someone doomed to wander the earth, telling his story whenever the urge hits him. He has supernatural powers that mesmerize the wedding guest, and the recurring image of the eye stressing this supernatural aspect. He is the single character by which the others are described if at all, and he has supernatural powers of observation because he knows things that happen while he in unconscious or asleep. Even though the Mariner controls the story, the wedding guest interrupts at the main events in the story, and he asks each time if the Mariner is not some sort of spirit. This question about the Mariner‟s nature lingers throughout the poem.
The presence of spirits is also deeply supernatural, and spirits are present throughout the journey. The marginal gloss identifies the polar spirit in particular, just as the motto specifically mentions spirits. These spirits fit Coleridge‟s Daemonology, and even if the story is allegorical, and these spirits are the same, then the Mariner remains just as supernatural. The same cannot be said for the whole of the story, however, as there is no evidence to prove that the death of the crew and the journey of the ship are also supernatural.
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