Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained

Anne Sexton’s "Faustus and I" is a rich and introspective exploration of the search for meaning, divinity, and personal identity in a world where traditional sources of spiritual fulfillment—God, art, and literature—seem absent or insufficient. The poem juxtaposes the speaker’s encounters with art, music, and literature against the backdrop of their own existential quest, ultimately drawing a parallel between themselves and the figure of Faustus, who famously made a pact with the devil in exchange for knowledge and power. Through vivid imagery and allusions to classical and literary themes, Sexton delves into the complexities of faith, morality, and the human condition.

The poem begins with the speaker attending an opera, expecting a spiritual experience or divine presence: "I went to the opera and God was not there." This opening line immediately sets a tone of disappointment and disillusionment. The opera, traditionally a space of high art and emotional intensity, becomes a site of emptiness where the expected connection with the divine fails to materialize. The speaker, described as being "in [their] apprenticeship," suggests a period of learning or spiritual seeking. Yet, despite the grandeur of the voices that are "as full as goblets," the experience feels hollow, as the speaker merely "caught them and threw them back"—an act of mimicry rather than genuine worship.

The phrase "In those vacant moments when our Lord sleeps / I have the voices" further underscores the speaker’s sense of spiritual abandonment. The idea of God sleeping suggests a lapse in divine attention or presence, leaving the speaker to find solace in the human, albeit fleeting, power of art. The "cry that is mine for keeps" signifies a personal, deeply held emotion or realization, something that remains with the speaker even in the absence of divine reassurance.

The speaker then visits an art gallery, where they again fail to find God: "God was not there, / only Mother Roulin and her baby, an old man infant." The reference to Mother Roulin and her baby invokes Vincent van Gogh’s famous portrait, which depicts a mother holding her child. The description of the baby as an "old man infant" with "black, black eyes" that "seemed to hunt me down" introduces a sense of unease and foreboding. This image of the child as prematurely aged and menacing contrasts sharply with the innocence typically associated with infancy, suggesting a corruption or loss of purity.

As the speaker observes van Gogh’s "violent" portrayal of the crows in the wheat field—an allusion to one of the artist’s last paintings before his death—the poem takes on a darker tone. The "three roads" leading to death, described as "all of them blind," reflect the inevitability and unpredictability of mortality. The sky with its "presence of a thousand blue eyes" and the wheat that "beat itself" evoke a world that is alive, yet indifferent and unkind. The crows, rising "like an old man's lies," symbolize the pervasive deceit and the darker aspects of the human psyche, elements that van Gogh captured in his tumultuous and tragic life. The speaker’s reflection on the "crimes, my Dutchman, that wait within us all" acknowledges the inherent sinfulness or moral failings that exist in everyone, long before the "fall"—a reference to the biblical Fall of Man.

The third setting is a bookstore, where once again, "God was not there." Instead, the speaker finds "Doctor Faustus," a reference to Christopher Marlowe’s tragic character who famously sells his soul to the devil in exchange for knowledge and power. The description of the book as "baby blue with a Knopf dog on his spine" and "frayed and threadbare with needing" anthropomorphizes the book, imbuing it with a sense of vulnerability and desperation. The "dialogue" between the speaker and Faustus—or rather, with the "arch-deceiver" or "Father of Lies" (Satan)—suggests an internal struggle or temptation, as the speaker communes with the dark aspects of human desire and ambition.

The poem’s reference to "a pact and a half" and the theft of "Godes Boke during a love affair" reveals the speaker’s own moral compromises and transgressions. The stolen "Gideon itself"—the ubiquitous Bible found in hotel rooms—signifies a failed attempt at finding or reclaiming faith. The underlined "Song of Solomon," a biblical text often associated with romantic love, contrasts with the rest of the Bible that has "turned to wood" in the speaker’s hands, symbolizing a loss of spiritual vitality and connection.

The final lines of the poem bring the speaker’s existential reflections full circle: "I am not immortal. Faustus and I are the also-ran." Here, the speaker acknowledges their mortality and the limitations of their search for meaning. The term "also-ran" implies that both the speaker and Faustus, despite their efforts and ambitions, ultimately fall short—neither achieving greatness nor finding redemption. The poem ends on a note of resigned acceptance, with the speaker recognizing that their journey, like Faustus’s, is one of human frailty and imperfection.

"Faustus and I" is a deeply introspective poem that grapples with the tension between the human desire for transcendence and the often disappointing reality of spiritual and existential quests. Through its rich imagery and allusions to art, literature, and religion, the poem explores the complexities of faith, the allure of forbidden knowledge, and the inevitability of human limitations. Sexton’s work serves as a meditation on the struggles of the soul in a world where traditional sources of meaning and salvation are elusive, leaving the speaker to confront their own flawed humanity in the absence of divine assurance.

Copyright (c) 2024 PoetryExplorer

Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!

Other Poems of Interest...