Ozymandias by P.B Shelly Summary

Ozymandias by P.B Shelly- a mockery of human glory and power

(Percy Bysshe Shelley)

‘Ozymandias’, is a thought provoking poem written by Percy Bysshe Shelley who is considered as one of the greatest poets of English Romantic poets. He is also regarded as one of the finest lyric poets in English. He wrote radical poems on social and political issues. Ozymandias can rightly be classified under such a genre.It is a sonnet that follows the structure of the fourteen-line Italian sonnet. It is composed in iambic pentameter. It has a unique feature of an  opening Octave, or a set of eight lines that presents a conflict or dilemma. It is followed by a sestet or set of six lines that offers some resolution or commentary upon the proposition introduced in the octave.

There are three characters in the poem-  1. Narrator: The poet, Shelley. He assumes the role of auditor to the tale of the traveler (line 1) and tells the reader what the traveler said.
2.Traveler: A person from an ancient land who tells his tale to the narrator.
Ozymandias: Egyptian Pharaoh who is the subject of the traveler’s tale. Ozymandias (also spelled Osymandias) is another name for one of Egypt’s most famous rulers, Ramses II (or Ramses the Great). He was born in 1314 BC and ruled Egypt for 66 years as the third king of the Nineteenth Dynasty. His exact age at death is uncertain, but it was between 90 and 99. Ramses was a warrior king and a builder of temples, statues and other monuments. He was pharaoh at the time Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt, as recounted in the second book of the Bible, Exodus (derived from the Greek word for departure).

The poem reveals the folly and vanity of human glory and power. ‘The trunkless’ legs of stone and a ‘shattered visage are the only remains of the statue of a great Egyptian Pharaoh.  He wanted to immortalize himself with his statue built for him in which it was inscribed – “My name is Ozymandias, king of kings; look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair.” However nothing beside remains. 

The poet tries expose the futility of human glory and power. Everything is fleeting. There is no permanent glory given to anybody. In course of nutty time, everything become oblivion. The great deeds also will disappear. The sculptor who carved the stature aptly read the emotions and attitude of the emperor. His facial expression of scorn or hostility in which the upper lip may be raised was appropriately interpreted by the sculptor.

Ozymandias wanted to show case his superiority. He wanted to establish and perpetuate his glory till posterity. However, the time has done ravage on his calculations. It is to be noted that human beings are mortals. So too the case with their ‘mighty works’. To sum up the poem unfolds the glare reality of human existence. It is an eye-opener to all those who  take pride in their material possessions and deeds.

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O, that you were yourself! but, love, you are
No longer yours than you yourself here live:
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your sweet semblance to some other give.
So should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination: then you were
Yourself again after yourself’s decease,
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold
Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day
And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?
O, none but unthrifts! Dear my love, you know
You had a father: let your son say so.

The real magic for happiness lies in being oneself. In fact, it remains a utopian idea most of the time as we all tend to imitate others. We compare and contrast and live a miserable life! All the joys and toils in life has to be faced by oneself. There will be many to share your joys and but there will be very few to share your sorrows. You will be all alone. Therefore, be yourself. And live happily.

 

When I do count the clock that tells the time…

When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night,
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silvered o’er with white:
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd
And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard:
Then of thy beauty do I question make
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake,
And die as fast as they see others grow,
And nothing ‘gainst Time’s scythe can make defence
Save breed to brave him, when he takes thee hence

 

When I count the chimes of the clock and watch the bright day sunken into terrifying night; when I see violets fading, and black curls all silvered over with white; when I see tall trees which previously offered shade to sheep and cattle but now with no leaves; and the green crops of summer tied up in harvested sheaves covered with scratchy dried out leaves, carried away on a wagon; then I begin to think about the endurance of your beauty and that you will have to decline and decay like everything else, because sweet and beautiful things lose their sweetness and beauty and die while watching new sweet and beautiful things taking their place. The only defence against Time’s scythe is to defy him when he takes you away, by having children.

A happy life can turn out be a sad one at any point of time. Time is a magician. It alters the reality from time to time. To adjust with this paradox is the biggest challenge one has to face in his life. Time is the supreme leveler. It creates equilibrium in the cosmos. Life in general is a journey from womb to tomb.

 

Your beauty would grow in a child of yours as rapidly as it fades in you..

As fast as thou shalt wane so fast thou grow’st,
In one of thine, from that which thou departest,
And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow’st,
Thou mayst call thine, when thou from youth convertest,
Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase,
Without this folly, age, and cold decay,
If all were minded so, the times should cease,
And threescore year would make the world away:
Let those whom nature hath not made for store,
Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish:
Look whom she best endowed, she gave thee more;
Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:
She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.

 

Your beauty would grow in a child of yours as rapidly as it fades in you, and when you are leaving your youth you could call that fresh blood that you give in your youth your own. Accepting this would be wise and it would ensure the preservation of your beauty; not doing so would be foolish and age would decay it. If everyone were to think like you it would result in the end of time and a sixty year lifespan would bring the end of the world. Let those coarse, unremarkable and crude people whom nature has not intended for breeding perish without issue. Whatever she gave to the best, she gave you more, and you should fully cherish those generous gifts. She printed her seal on you and by that meant that you should print more, not let that original die.

Beauty isn’t an eternal entity. It is perishable. It fades in course of time. Here, the focus is on physical beauty. The poet urges one to concentrate on beauty that transcends the empirical realm. This beauty is implied in nature. But the more one realizes it, the better he/ she becomes as a human being. On the other hand, those who depend on physical beauty which is fleeting, the end would be miserable. Such ‘crude people’ would perish without issue.(children).

 

Being single you will be effectively nothing.

Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly,
Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear:
Mark how one string sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,
Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose speechless song being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee, ‘Thou single wilt prove none’.

 

The theme of the youth’s failure to marry and to have children is continued. A lesson is drawn from his apparent sadness in listening to music. Music itself is concord and harmony, similar to that which reigns in the happy household of father, child and mother, as if they were separate strings in music which reverberate mutually. The young man is made sad by this harmony because he does not submit to it. In effect it admonishes him, telling him that, in dedicating himself to a single life he makes himself worthless, a nonentity, a nothingness.

Two interpretations are given of this: a) You are yourself like music to listen to, so why do you respond to it sadly? b) Why is it that, when there is music to listen to, you are saddened by it.? The former question asks why a person who is so framed as to appear perfect to the observer, rounded and harmonious as a piece of music, should be made sad by listening to music. Sweet (things) and joy are inherently harmonious, they do not fight against themselves. The construction of these first two lines is consciously melodic. Musis music, sweets sweets, joy joy. A slight air of disharmony sets in with lines 3 and 4, with ‘receiv’st not glady, receiv’st thine annoy’. Why do you love the music that you listen to (receive), even though it does not give you pleasure? Do you take delight in that which causes you pain?
annoy = that which annoys or irks you, annoyance. Probably a sexual innuendo is present in these two lines (3-4), based on the words ‘receiv’st’ and ‘pleasure’. A two fold idea runs through this sentence, that of sounds united in harmony (by unions married) and that of souls united in married bliss. Hence the sweet harmony of music reprimands him because he destroys, by remaining single, the harmony which would accompany him as a married man, and also he destroys the concord of music by not playing his part. unions = marriages, harmonies, counterpoint. The term seems to have a musical connotation, that of sounds united in harmony although OED does not give any musical definition for union. The closeness of the word to unison does however keep the musical imagery at the forefront of one’s mind. Shakespeare only uses the word infrequently, six times in total, two of which, in Hamlet, relate to the meaning ‘pearl’. the parts that thou shouldst bear = the parts you should play in married life, or, using the musical imagery, in music, by playing an instrument. A large number of connected meanings interplay in these two lines. ‘As a player, or as a singer, you ruin the harmony, by attempting to play solo, by mistaking and miscuing the parts of the melody or song; while as a single man you abuse your parts by not mingling them, as you should, so that they bear fruit (children). You should bear the part of a father, while the chosen she will bear your children. The musical image continues, with the addition of the idea of marriage in the wordhusband. The reference here is probably to the strings of a lute, which were strung in pairs, known as courses. It was the most commonly used musical instrument of the period, already having had a long history. Much music was written for it, and Shakespeare would have been familiar with it. The double strings provide a richer tone, as they reverberate in harmony. The use of courses is not however restricted to lutes, as mandolins, guitars and theorbos were also set with them. The strings reverberate against each other. They mutually respond, in appropriate order.
each in each = ?? each string in each course. Only adjacent strings in the same course could physically strike each other.
mutual ordering – this could refer to the positioning and sequential movement of the fingers, or it could be a reference to the ordered harmony of the music. The strings, in their mutual harmony, resemble a happy family. There is a sideways glance here at the Holy Family, Mary, Jesus and Joseph, who would have been depicted in numerous church paintings of the time. They were the archetype of the well ordered family. See the illustration above. The father, child and mother are united in harmony, as the strings of the lute produce a harmonius tune. The song is instrumental, composed of many strings and notes, hence speechless, but it is a unity in its harmony. Although polyphonic its melodic line seems to be ‘one’, a unity. Being single you will be effectively nothing.
prove = turn out to be, become. The number one was considered proverbially to be equivalent to nothing (perhaps in the context of very large numbers). There is also the meaning ‘You will turn out to be neither song, nor note, nor harmony, nor happy family’.

 

Lo in the orient when the gracious light…

Lo in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred majesty,
And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,
Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
Attending on his golden pilgrimage:
But when from highmost pitch with weary car,
Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,
The eyes (fore duteous) now converted are
From his low tract and look another way:
So thou, thy self out-going in thy noon:
Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son

Children are gifts of God. The off springs of any species are the extension of their personalities. When it comes to human beings, especially in holy marriage, the children manifest the pure love of the couples. But this instinct for union for the existence of the humankind can degenerated into lust, which is just momentary. If the lust dies in itself, the life loses its sublime values. It ceases to be a real life. However, what about those celibate ones? What about gender discrimination? Be it son or daughter, I believe is the extension of human generation.

Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface,…

Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface,
In thee thy summer ere thou be distilled:
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place,
With beauty’s treasure ere it be self-killed:
That use is not forbidden usury,
Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
That’s for thy self to breed another thee,
Or ten times happier be it ten for one,
Ten times thy self were happier than thou art,
If ten of thine ten times refigured thee:
Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart,
Leaving thee living in posterity?
Be not self-willed for thou art much too fair,
To be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir

How to conquer death? It is an age-old question. The poet urges not to be selfish. If so, worms would be your heir. Those who are happier, willing to loan, they try to give others than accumulate everything for themselves. Altruism is not usury; it is another form of greed. Your bad times are the result of your actions. The law of Karma is so true. A person who thinks of others leads a better life than others who are not. This thinking about others but shouldn’t be due to jealousy or cunningness. It must be backed by pure purpose of life- to transcend death by good and charitable actions! Death is helpless if you should depart!

Those hours that with gentle work did frame…

Those hours that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell
Will play the tyrants to the very same,
And that unfair which fairly doth excel:
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter and confounds him there,
Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o’er-snowed and bareness every where:
Then were not summer’s distillation left
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty’s effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.
But flowers distilled though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show, their substance still lives sweet

Human life is a mystery. Human beings are led through unknown path by God, fate and such powers that control them. It reminds us of the old saying, “Man proposes, God disposes”. We look for beauty even when we know that it is perishable. We look for perfection even when we know that it is quite impossible. The beauty of human life lies in its uncertainty and absurdity. If everything happens according to our will and wish there is no charm in our lives. Every day, new challenges are there for man to face. And when he emerges successful in overcoming them, his life becomes happier, more contented and more fulfilled.

Unthrifty loveliness why dost thou spend…

Unthrifty loveliness why dost thou spend,
Upon thy self thy beauty’s legacy?
Nature’s bequest gives nothing but doth lend,
And being frank she lends to those are free:
Then beauteous niggard why dost thou abuse,
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
Profitless usurer why dost thou use
So great a sum of sums yet canst not live?
For having traffic with thy self alone,
Thou of thy self thy sweet self dost deceive,
Then how when nature calls thee to be gone,
What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,
Which used lives th’ executor to be.

It is a typical poem on selfishness. Unthrifty loveliness sometimes is misunderstood, manipulated and taken for granted. People underestimate the real love. They don’t really love those who really love them. What is the use of great a sum of sums if one cannot live peacefully? But the ‘unused beauty  would die with you. A selfish person would die miserable. The selfish man has only traffic to himself. And such lives are doomed for the real nature of us is to be altruistic and charitable. However, beware of the deceiving nature of this world. Be cautious.

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest,…

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest, Now is the time that face should form another, Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest, Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother. For where is she so fair whose uneared womb Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry? Or who is he so fond will be the tomb, Of his self-love to stop posterity? Thou art thy mother’s glass and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime, So thou through windows of thine age shalt see, Despite of wrinkles this thy golden time. But if thou live remembered not to be, Die single and thine image dies with thee.

It reminds me of a poem written by me, which goes like this, ‘when your eyes can’t see you in the mirror, try to see yourself in others’. It is a superb sonnet on the destiny of human existence. We die single and our images also die with us. Every time we look into mirror we long to have another face as we all lament on our existence. We look at others with jealousy and think that they are all happier and contented than us. But the existence of everyone is same. Each one has his own worries. There is nothing to be jealous of. Be contented with what you have and what you are. It also reminds us of the perishing beauty of our bodies. Still there are some people who can see through the windows of thin age, reminding of their prime time and beauty. But they too will become oblivion in course of time.

Where all the treasure of thy lusty days?..

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,
And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field,
Thy youth’s proud livery so gazed on now,
Will be a tattered weed of small worth held:
Then being asked, where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days;
To say within thine own deep sunken eyes,
Were an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise.
How much more praise deserved thy beauty’s use,
If thou couldst answer ‘This fair child of mine
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse’
Proving his beauty by succession thine.
This were to be new made when thou art old,
And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold.

This sonnet reminded me of Kumaran Ashan’s Vasavadatta, a famous ‘Ghandakavyam’. Wherein lies the real beauty? Is it just a matter of ‘forty winters’? Yes. the time makes deep trenches in our physical beauty fields. Youth’s proud and lusty days will perish in course of time. They will become oblivion. It’s a beautiful sonnet which reminds us of the passing nature of physical beauty. The poet’s question: where all your beauty lies? This question could be asked by us when we are proud of our physical beauty which cannot withstand aging and thus decadence. It urges us to concentrate on the beauty eternal, if there exists such a beauty here on earth or in heaven above…

“Love is not love which alters when…”

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

 Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
 That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
 It is the star to every wandering bark,
 Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
 Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
 But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
 I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
……………………………

( William Shakespeare  )

(1564 - 1616)
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The true love is not  the  love when it alteration finds, remover to remove.
 But it's an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests.
 It is the star to every wandering bark.
True love is not time's fool which ends in few weeks and days.
It lasts even to the edge of doom.
This Shakespeare sonnet 116 is everlasting piece on love.
The qualities of true love are amazing.
Ironically this pure love is not found in our human relationships.
Our love is time’s fool which ends in the course of time.
 The true love on the other hands reaches to the doom-
 till one’s death.