Topic > The Dictation of Genre: Respective Communication Failures and Successes in Tennyson's "The Lady of Shalott" and Carter's "The Bloody Chamber"

Both Alfred Lord Tennyson's "The Lady of Shalott" and "The Bloody Chamber" by Angela Carter involve women artists as main characters — The Lady of Shalott weaves colorful, artful plots, and the narrator of “The Bloody Chamber” is a talented pianist — making them prime candidates for comparison. In Tennyson's poetry the communication between reality and art is interrupted, as manifested in the mediation of the Lady's mirror. In Carter's story, there seems to be a more exclusive relationship between reality and art, as manifested in the blind tuner who ultimately becomes the narrator's savior. The change in art's relationship with reality, from the breakdown of communication to the success of communication, in these two pieces reflects the different attitudes of Victorian and postmodernist writers towards language and communication. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay In Tennyson's "The Lady of Shalott," the Lady knows she is cursed and must not "look down upon Camelot" (41), but "knows not what the curse may be" (42) . That is, the Lady is unsure of what exactly the curse entails and therefore witnesses the events of the city through a mediated source - a mirror - and is never fully able to witness reality. The Lady abides by the vague statute of the curse, avoids looking directly at the scene beneath her window, and weaves her webs by watching the scenes unfold through the mirror. Here the communication between the Lady of Shalott and reality is interrupted; his work represents only “shadows” of reality (48). The mirror through which the Lady glimpses life and reality strips the events and people she sees of their authenticity and tangibility, leaving the Lady with mere silhouettes, inventions of the real world. This form of pseudo-reality leaves the Lady discontented and dissatisfied, the point at which she says, “'I'm half tired of shadows'” (71). The Lady of Shalott realizes this breakdown in communication and grows tired of her false reality, longing for the real picture of life that opens outside her window. The Lady is the quintessential Victorian figure, secluded in her solitary tower, completely unattainable and tragically condemned to never fully glimpse the life that thrives around her. She is the epitome of the Victorian woman and her artwork, which requires a breakdown in communication, is the epitome of Victorian art. If the Lady is supposed to represent the artist, we see how mediated reality affects works of art. The “net” that the Lady “weaves” (64-5-65) is the result of her labors, but it is not all of her art. The mirror plays a particularly important role in the transmission of object to subject, of reality to art. That is, the mirror, the inherent source of communication breakdown, is an integral part of an artist's work. As far as the Victorian artist is concerned, this breakdown in communication is necessary to allow the presence of the audience or viewer. The very nature of art is the mediation of reality; that is, art is art because it is not reality, but rather a representation of it. Art is the subject, not the object. There is room and even need for interpretation. The audience becomes the most important aspect of a work of art because it reconciles this breakdown in communication. When examining a work of art, something is repaired: the work of art is granted its essence because the viewer projects meaning or meaning. Saying that the work of art isintrinsically significant denies the position of the spectator. That is, art requires the viewer to reconcile the breakdown in communication that occurs between reality and representation because it cannot do so on its own. Victorian art asks the question: If a tree falls in the middle of the woods with no one around, will it make a sound? According to the Lady's artwork and theA breakdown in communication occurs which, in turn, requires a viewer, the answer to the previous question would be: No. This relationship between art and its audience then leads to reconsider the Lady of Shalott's relationship with her own work of art: her networks. – and what role the breakdown in communication plays in her fate, as well as that of the Victorian artist. The Lady is its only audience, making the cycle of reality, mediation, art and audience internal and self-sufficient. There is no room for interpretation because the only audience for the work of art is its creator himself. In this sense, the Lady of Shalott's artwork fails because it fails to successfully mediate the necessary breakdown in communication on which the art is based; that is, the audience has no agency because the only audience of the artwork, in this case, is the artist herself. Once the Lady of Shalott breaks the rule of mediation, however, the curse of mortality falls upon her and she ultimately dies, though it is only then that her work of art leaves the unyielding frame behind, freed from predetermination and suitable to be fully interpreted through the breakdown of previously absent communication. As the Lady of Shalott spies Lancelot moving through her mirror, she leaves the net and frame behind her to look out the window and glimpse reality. In doing so the Lady upsets her loom and her work of art: “the canvas flew out and expanded; / the mirror split from side to side” (114-115). By disobeying the dictates of her curse, the constraints of her artwork, the Lady unconsciously liberates her art, letting it “fly” and “float widely.” Furthermore, the mirror – the source of mediation – breaks and is destroyed because there is no longer a need for such mediation. The Lady is no longer tied to her art and her paintings are free of interpretation; they are no longer objects but subjects and have transformed into true art because, finally, they allow the breakdown of communication to facilitate subjectivity and interpretation. Only when networks were liberated from their creator – until they became subject to a communication breakdown – could they fully realize their true potential as art. The utility and status of communication in “The Bloody Chamber” is very different from the breakdown of communication that occurs in “The Lady of Shalott,” although it maintains the same kind of strident adherence to the status of its genre, the postmodern. In Carter's tale, the art of the narrator, a talented pianist, communicates clearly and effectively to his future lover, a blind piano tuner. While the piano tuner's disability should limit the power and agency of the art, making communication nearly impossible and, therefore, incurring a communication breakdown, the power of the storyteller's art makes communication possible, even unstoppable. In her new husband's house, the young, naïve narrator of “The Bloody Chamber” sits down to play at his piano and finds that “only a series of subtle discordances flowed from beneath [her] fingers” (16). The narrator goes on to state that the piano is "only a little out of tune," but that she "was fortunate enough to have a perfect ear and could no longer bear to play" (16). While the Lady of Shalott toils in her tower, limited andobedient to the curse that constrains both her and her art and, consequently, adapting her art to reality, Carter's narrator adapts reality to her art, making successful communication possible. by hiring a piano tuner, although "sea breezes are bad for pianos" (16), the narrator adapts reality to her art and, as a result, meets her future lover, the piano tuner, who ultimately serves as an example of how successful communication through art can be. After listening to the narrator, Jean-Yves, the blind tuner, falls in love with her art and with her. We know that Carter's narrator is a naive young virgin and that her heart is playful, yet pure. His art successfully communicates its virtue to the piano tuner, and there is not a breakdown in communication that occurs, but rather a direct transfer of meaning from the artist to the audience. The breakdown of communication in “The Lady of Shalott” was necessary because of the artistic medium – cobwebs or weaving – and the ideals of Victorian literature: unattainable goals and external inspirations. The success of communication in “The Bloody Chamber” is partly contributed to the art form – music – but also to the ideals of postmodernist literature: that, if taken at face value, art is perhaps the only true form of communication because it challenges every law of traditional values. After Carter's narrator witnesses her new husband's brutality, she returns to her place of comfort, her piano room, where Jean-Yves eavesdrops on her playing. He tells the narrator of his love for his art, flattering her: “When I heard you play this afternoon, I thought I had never felt such a touch. Such a technique. A delight for me, listening to a virtuoso!” (32). He knows that she is distraught after finding the bloody room and "some intuition [tells him that the narrator] could not sleep and might, perhaps, pass the sleepless hours at [his] piano" (31). In a moment of confusion and restlessness, Jean-Yves assumes that the narrator resorts to the clarity and efficiency of his art because the certainty and security it provides is appealing. The storyteller's art clearly and fluidly communicates the artist's intentions and attitudes. It is not a simple reflection of reality, as in the networks of “The Lady of Shalott,” but rather the creation of reality. Art has much more agency and effectiveness in communication in postmodernist literature, as seen in "The Bloody Chamber", than in Victorian literature. In both texts, however, art and the resulting forms of communication, or lack thereof, are not intended. for a specific audience. Both the Lady of Shalott and Carter's narrator perform their artistic tasks for themselves, yet in the artwork Carter's narrator manages to successfully, if unintentionally, communicate with his audience: his true love. While her murderous husband prepares to behead her, Jean-Yves remains at the narrator's side, knowing he can do nothing to save her, but willing to risk his life for her. Their bond is the serious and successful communication that developed from the narrator's artwork. The success of communication is clearly manifested in the fate of the two women. The Lady of Shalott, whose artwork suffers from a breakdown cycle of broken and incomplete communication, dies in a boat that is slowly floating towards the man she loves. The narrator of “The Bloody Chamber,” however, survives her murderous husband thanks to the successful nature of her communication. She unconsciously but effectively uses her artwork, her music, to connect with Jean-Yves, who ends up being her lover and husband throughout..