Son
of the old Moon-mountains African!
Chief
of the Pyramid and Crocodile!
We
call thee fruitful, and that very while
A
desert fills our seeing's inward span:
Nurse
of swart nations since the world began,
Art
thou so fruitful? or dost thou beguile
Such
men to honour thee, who, worn with toil,
Rest
for a space 'twixt Cairo and Decan?
O may dark fancies err! They surely do;
'Tis ignorance that makes a barren waste
Of all beyond itself. Thou dost bedew
Green rushes like our rivers, and dost
taste
The pleasant sunrise. Green isles hast thou
too,
And to the sea as happily dost haste.
“To
the Nile” is a Petrarchan sonnet composed by the Late-Romantic poet John Keats.
Keats said to have composed this sonnet in a friendly competition with his
fellow Romantics Leigh Hunt and P B Shelly. A Petrarchan sonnet has an octave
rhyming abbaabba and a sestet
rhyming cdcdcd. The Volta or the turn of the line of thought
occurs from the octave to the sestet. In
this sonnet also line number 9 marks a change of thought: Initially the poetic
persona thinks of the Nile as a holy/mysterious river that beguiled the
travellers, but from line 9 onwards he begins to think of it as an ordinary
river similar to the ones he sees in his own country.
In Greek mythology Nilus is considered
the god of the Nile River. The poem traces the course of the Nile from the
legendary sub-Saharan Moon Mountains to the Mediterranean Sea, and how it turns
some parts of Egypt into fertile oases within a desert. The poem is written in
the second person. The poetic persona addresses a personified Nile directly as
a sentient being.
In the octave
the poet acknowledges the ancient fame of and the reverence paid to the river
and calls it “Son of the Old Moon-Mountains African!” The poetic techniques used here are inversion
and personification. In addition, this
is also an invocation to a supernatural power in the form of the Nile. Then in
the second line, the Nile is invoked as the “Chief of the Pyramid and Crocodile.”
The blocks of limestone and marble that were used to build the great pyramids in
Egypt said to have been transported from their quarries to the present site using
the Nile. And the Pyramids and the civilization that built them are located
close to the river. Hence, it is the Chief of the Pyramid.
On the banks of the Nile one finds
huge crocodiles. In addition, ancient Egyptians worshipped a crocodile-headed
god who was related to the mummification process and death in general. The
pyramids are thought to be the tombs of the ancient Egyptian pharaohs. Hence,
the Nile is “Chief of … Crocodile!” At a surface level, the poet creates bathos
through the phrase “Chief of the Pyramid and Crocodile” by juxtaposing the
pyramids with crocodiles.
The Son, the Chief, and the Nurse
are references to the different roles of the Nile. The Nile is both a man and a
woman – therefore, androgynous.
The octave contains a series of
contradictions: An old mountain dedicated to a virgin goddess had given birth
to a son; the Nile is the chief of both the Pyramids and Crocodiles and it is
also a river in the middle of a desert.
In
the third and fourth lines the poet refers to the first contradiction - “We
call thee fruitful and that very while/ A desert fills our seeing's inward span.”
Fruitfulness and barrenness, two extremes, exist side by side as the Nile flows
through a vast desert. Once a year the Nile floods depositing rich loamy mud on
the banks of the river, making them ideal for agriculture. Today this has
changed with the construction of many dams along the river like the Aswan. The
Egyptian god Hapi is associated with flooding of the river, thus bringing
fertility and fruitfulness.
According
to Egyptian mythology, the Nile itself is considered as a symbol of fertility. When
the Egyptian god Osiris was killed and his body parts were scattered by his
brother Seth, his genitals were supposed to have been thrown into the river to
be eaten by a crocodile so that his wife would not be able to resurrect him.
In
the next line the River Nile is invoked as the nurse for the Africans – another
image of fertility. Yet the poet immediately questions the truth value of his
own invocation with the question “[a]rt thou so fruitful?”
The
first question is followed by another rhetorical question: “or dost thou beguile/Such
men to honour thee, who, worn with toil,/Rest for a space 'twixt Cairo and
Decan?” Here the poet is questioning the famed fruitfulness/nurturing qualities
of the river. He is wondering whether people have called the river fruitful
only in comparison to what lay on either side of it and because it offered "rest
for a space 'twixt Cairo and Decan." He is asking whether the river had
fooled the various nations of people who travelled between Cairo and Decan
(Deccan?) – probably the travellers of the ancient Silk Rout – into worshiping
it by assuming a mysterious supernatural appearance. At this point, it is
possible that Keats may be referring to the numerous ancient temples dedicated
to Osiris along the River which were worshipped by travellers, too.
The
poetic persona begins the sestet
with a prayer or a deeply felt wish to the Nile and/or the gods of Egypt to
make his dark thought and doubts about the fruitfulness of the Nile false – He
says: “O may dark fancies err!” Then he affirms with certainty that his fancies
were indeed wrong with the short phrase “They surely do.” Here, Keats is
critical of his imagination or ‘negative capability’ as he calls it. Negative
capability, according to Keats is ‘when man is capable of being in
uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and
reason.’
Next,
Keats says that “'Tis ignorance that makes a barren waste/ Of all beyond
itself.” Here, Keats might be talking
about our ignorance about the Nile or things and people in general. Ignorant
people assume everything beyond what is familiar to be a barren waste. In the
same way, the Europeans of Keats’ age had either romanticized or demonized the
rest of the world. Keats strives to see a similarity between the rivers of
England and the Nile – In sociology this kind of thinking is called “cultural
relativism.” But this attempt to positively evaluate the Nile in comparison to
English rivers, too, smacks of the European superiority complex as the Nile as
the longest river of the world is far superior to a river like the Avon, one of
the longest rivers in England. In the same way, if one is to compare the European
and African civilizations from a cultural relativist point of view, then, one
might be doing injustice to something that is much older.
In
the last four lines, the poet looks at the river from aesthetic point of view
and describes its journey to the sea using typically sensuous Keatsean language.
In
conclusion, Keats seems to suggest that whatever or wherever we are, in the end
everything has the same end.
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