Ekphrasis: A Vehicle for Victorian Era Ideals

“Not as she is but, as she fills his dream:” these final words of Christina Rossetti’s “In an Artist’s Studio” describe the unrealistic yardstick by which women were measured in the 1800s. Ironically coined “The Age of Improvement,” the Victorian Era failed to excel in all areas, seeing not only an increase in prosperity and technological advancements, but also in sexist and unattainable ideals of women and their role in the home. Robert Browning’s “My Last Duchess” and Rossetti’s “In an Artist’s Studio” utilize ekphrasis to depict how aristocratic and enamored men respectively use unique tactics to objectify their significant others and strip them of their vitality, leaving only the exterior features they desire.

In the aforementioned works, though the muses certainly had natural human flaws, they were pointedly left out, or rather painted out, in their representative works. In Browning’s “My Last Duchess,” the Duke’s late wife is is gradually referred to less fondly as the Duke reveals his distaste for her flagrantly flirtatious ways, namely her liberal smile and “approving speech” (30). Her heart “too soon made glad” and “too easily impressed” earned her naught but anger and disapproval from her husband who believed his gift to her of “a nine-hundred-years-old name” should receive a far more lavishing appreciation than she afforded others (33). To prevent the public shame of the Duchess’s roving eyes, the Duke chastised her until “all smiles ceased together,” seeming to prefer an unhappy, yet socially upstanding, wife to a blithe one (46). He makes plain his desire, had he the “skill in speech,” to tell her, “this or that in you disgusts me,” implying he’d relish the ability to select his wife’s characteristics in lieu of accepting her wholly. (36, 37-38). In choosing to issue commands to his wife, rather than have a discussion with her, the Duke’s behavior becomes akin to that of a frustrated slavedriver, instead of a heartbroken husband. He makes plain his degrading view of his late wife when, after discussing her portrait for some time, he nonchalantly turns his attention to a bronze statue of Neptune “taming a seahorse,” exhibiting no grievance for her loss and drawing a link between the statue and his own effort to tame his wife (55). The Duchess’s portrait, however, implies none of her supposedly scandalous ways or even a hint of marital strife. All of the vivacious qualities that comprise her personality have been veiled by the artist’s brush as to leave the semblance of life without the quality of living.

The muse discussed in Rossetti’s work suffers a similar fate from a different cause. Her love interest and portraitist is only capable, or willing, to see her best aspects, thus requiring her to measure up to an unattainably perfect version of herself. Illustrated as “a saint [and] an angel” the artist’s idol seems to emit an almost holy quality on which he feeds “day and night” (“In an Artist’s Studio” 7, 9). Though ascribed with this magical property, the enshrined woman is said to be devoid of her true emotions. Her unmoving eyes are are kind rather than realistically dim, and her countenance belies warmth rather than being “wan from waiting” (12). Depicted as she was “when hope shone bright,” only “one face looks out from all his canvases,” as unchanging in appearance as a forgotten barbie in the bottom of a toy box (13, 1). Unmistakably illustrated as “a queen in opal or ruby dress” Rossetti emphasizes the unrealistic comparison between Victorian women and royalty, who must appear happy and put together even in times of strife. The muse’s portraits are described as being found “hidden behind […] screens” just as her emotions and imperfections have been hidden from her love interest’s gaze. By veiling her authenticity with paint, the artwork serves as a false “mirror [which gives] back all her loveliness,” but none of the vitality she once possessed (4). In the Duke’s words, the artist has chosen to display the areas in which his inspiration “exceed[s] the mark,” thereby choosing to only admire her physical beauty without embracing her flaws (“My Last Duchess” 39).

As the common poetic phrase asserts, “art imitates life.” Though it may approach astounding levels of accuracy with vivid colors and new mediums, art, especially the domain of realism, can only ever mime the true beauty and fluidity of life. Knockoffs and imposters compared to the authenticity of vitality, art deceives the senses into romantic notions in which scenes and people become more beautiful and less true. It inspires an unattainable idealistic vision of what life should be while forsaking the laws of what it can be. One wouldn’t dare judge the beauty of the Grand Canyon based on a single representative postcard, yet the women in “My Last Duchess” and “In an Artist’s Studio” were subjected to such expectations. Whether it be character flaws, emotional expression, or physical beauty, the aforementioned works demonstrate the pitfalls of expecting more from someone by comparing them to an unattainable standard.

Works Cited:

Browning, Robert. “My Last Duchess.” The Norton Anthology of English Literature: The

Romantic Period, edited by Diedre Shauna Lynch, W. W. Norton & Company, 1962, pp. 328-329.

Rossetti, Christina. “In an Artist’s Studio.” The Norton Anthology of English Literature: The

Romantic Period, edited by Diedre Shauna Lynch, W. W. Norton & Company, 1962, pp. 539.