Telos and Philology in the Early Modern English Epic

169 Pages·2017·8.77 MB·English

Telos and Philology in the Early Modern English Epic
by
John Paul Hampstead
A dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment
of the requirements for the degree of
Doctor of Philosophy
(English Language and Literature)
in the University of Michigan
2017
Doctoral Committee:
Professor Michael C. Schoenfeldt, Chair
Professor Linda K. Gregerson
Professor Karla Mallette
Professor Douglas Trevor
John Paul Hampstead
[email protected]
ORCID iD: 0000-0003-2242-4907
© John Paul Hampstead 2017
for Ryan and Hilary
!ii
Acknowledgements
Many friends and colleagues inspired, shaped, and improved this project. It was conceived in an
embryonic form during conversations with Jane Bellamy and Anthony Welch at the University of
Tennessee; later discussions at the University of Michigan with my committee members in the
Department of English Language and Literature, Michael Schoenfeldt, Linda Gregerson, and Doug
Trevor, clarified and focused the now-dissertation’s driving questions. Part of the Spenser chapter
was presented to a panel of Spenserians at Kalamazoo in 2011; the material on Africa was worked up
for Karla Mallette’s Petrarch course; I first tried out my ideas about Sannazaro at a conference on
the Reformation at Victoria College, University of Toronto. Anthony Welch gave generous advice
on an early draft of the Cowley chapter; the Early Modern Colloquium provided feedback on a later
draft. Logan Scherer read most of the project several times and Adam Sneed seemed always willing
to help sharpen my understanding of Kant.
I started writing this dissertation in earnest shortly after marrying Ryan; her love and support are the
conditions that made aught else possible. The newest addition to our family, Hilary, made delightful
company during the last year of work.
!iii
Contents
Dedication ii
Acknowledgements iii
List of Figures v
Abstract vi
Introduction 1
Chapter 1. Under the sign of monotheism? 9
Chapter 2. The Faerie Queene and Tudor historiography 42

Chapter 3. Drayton’s borders: songs of the Severn in Poly-Olbion 66
Chapter 4. Hebraists, Royalists, and Cowley’s Davideis 93
Chapter 5. Milton, Kant, and the end(s) of man: Paradise Lost as rational history 118
Coda The two fates of Odysseus 149
Works Cited 154
!iv
List of Figures
Figure 1. William Hole’s frontispiece for Drayton’s Poly-Olbion (1612). 77
Figure 2. Rembrandt’s Supper at Emmaus (1648), the Louvre. 95
!v
Abstract
This dissertation identifies an internal contradiction or inherent tension in the Renaissance
epic and reads four early modern English epics in light of this generic feature. Vertical pressure
from poets' monarchical patrons to craft teleological political narratives legitimating their rule
collided with horizontal pressure from the poets’ humanists peers who expected their poems to
reflect cutting-edge humanist historiography and its new methods of critically evaluating
documentary evidence. Crises in English politics—from the Elizabethan succession, to the
unification of the Crowns under the Stuarts, to Civil War and Restoration—made unitary myth-
making more imperative than ever, but advances in history-writing made this task more difficult.
Before my readings of English epic commence, a wide-ranging, comparative prologue chapter
considers the potential relationship between monotheism and teleological narrative in order to
isolate politics as the determinative factor.
Edmund Spenser’s Faerie Queene (1596) engages deeply with the legendary matter of Britain
popularized centuries earlier by the medieval chronicler Geoffrey of Monmouth, even as Spenser
seems to acknowledge how the legends have been discredited. Michael Drayton's Poly-Olbion (1612)
works through much of the same material, but largely foregoes any attempt to connect the old
fables to current political realities, preferring instead to embed these anecdotes from the ancient
British past into systematic descriptions of the landscape. Rather than spinning Trojan-British
legends into a justification for British unification, Drayton uses the figure of the Severn to remind
his readers of the Welsh rights and particularity that has been erased by English hegemony.
Abraham Cowley’s Davideis (c. 1640s), while ostensibly about the troubles of King David, also maps
onto the exile of the Stuarts during the Interregnum, and rather awkwardly tries to find a Biblical
!vi
precedent for the Stuarts’ version of absolutist kingship. Finally, John Milton’s Paradise Lost (1667;
1674), written after the Restoration of Charles II and Milton’s utter alienation from power politics,
rejects English politics and instead dives deep into human prehistory, to the origins of humankind. I
argue that Milton’s narrative about the gradual unfolding of human nature and our capabilities
resembles the speculative, rational histories couched in the subjunctive written by Hobbes, Vico,
Rousseau, and especially Kant. Rather than subjecting these epics to a deconstructive critique that
would that expose the poets’ subconscious anxieties, I argue that Spenser, Drayton, Cowley, and
Milton were aware of these contradictions, and had the courage—however fleeting—to face
destabilizing, disillusioning facts and include them in their great poems. 

!vii
Introduction
In the fourth book of Vergil’s Aeneid, “heartless Rumor” (impia Fama) tells Dido that Aeneas,
shamed into action once more by Mercury, has begun preparing his fleet to leave Carthage and sail
for Italy. Dido rushes to find Aeneas and, in a rage, confronts him with a torrent of questions: “If
you were not in quest of alien lands and homes unknown, were ancient Troy yet standing, would
Troy be sought by your ships over stormy seas? Is it from me you are fleeing?”1 Aeneas’ terse
response deflects responsibility from his own will to the fate ordained for him by the gods: “It is not
by my wish that I make for Italy…”2 Part of what is at stake in this dramatic exchange is Aeneas’
motivation, which might also be called the directionality of history: does Aeneas flee from Carthage,
or does he sail for Italy? At what point does his band of Trojan survivors stop running from their
past and start sailing toward their future?
These were not idle questions for readers and makers of epic poetry in early modern
England. Indeed, Henry Howard, the Earl of Surrey—who rendered Dido’s question “Shunnest
thou me?”—seems to have brooded over the directionality of history and how best to respond to
catastrophe and flames while translating Vergil in the 1540s.3 Surrey’s decision to create translations
of only the second and fourth books of the Aeneid was surely significant: in the second book, a
frame tale, Aeneas recounts the fall of Troy, the confused fighting in desecrated temples, and the
1 Aeneid 4.311-4. … si non arva aliena domosque / ignotas peteres, et Troia antiqua maneret, / Troia per
undosum peteretur classibus aequor? / mene fugis? trans. H. Rushton Fairclough, rev. G. P. Goold.
Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1999.
2 Aen. 4.361 Italiam non sponte sequor…
3 I use the unpaginated edition Certain Bokes of Virgiles Aenaeis turned into English meter… London:
Richard Tottel, 1557.
!1
“wreched multitude” (miserabile vulgus) waiting for him outside the shattered walls; in the fourth book,
destiny and his duty to his son Ascanius call Aeneas away from Carthage, toward unseen shores.
Surrey gives us two versions of the kind of sacrifice demanded by epic telos: in the first, an act of
wanton destruction and pillage strips Aeneas of his old identity; in the second, after Aeneas has “…
in his brest / Represt his care, and strove against his wil” he commits himself in the end, to the end,
to Rome.4 Surrey’s selection of the second and fourth books underscores Dido’s line of questioning;
he balances his translation between fleeing from and sailing toward.
Early twentieth century literary critics did not think much of Surrey’s translation—C. S.
Lewis memorably called it “Virgil in corsets”—but after a period of neglect, his blank verse
experiment gained admirers, first due to a renewed appreciation of Surrey’s fidelity to Vergil’s Latin,
then for his contribution to English poetry.5 More recent scholars working in a sophisticated
paradigm of translation studies have sought to historicize Surrey’s decisions: Edward Wilson-Lee has
considered how for a sixteenth century reader of the Aeneid “upheaval could be barbaric or
regressive, millenarian and progressive, depending on perspective,”especially for a reader like Surrey,
for whom Tudor upheaval was personal, as well as political.6 Wilson-Lee’s important reading of
Surrey’s Aeneid pays attention to idols and iconoclasm in the context of Surrey’s participation in the
1563 Pilgrimage of Grace, the popular protest against Henry VIII’s break with Rome and
dissolution of the monasteries. Certainly the holocaust of Trojan temples and household gods
would have resonated with the recusant Howard family; but Surrey, first cousin of both Anne
4 Here Surrey translates Aen. 4.332 … obnixus curam sub corde premebat (“with a struggle smothered the
pain deep within his breast”).
5 See David A. Richardson’s “Humanistic Intent in Surrey’s Aeneid”, English Literary Renaissance 6.2
(Spring 1976), pp. 204-19 ; Alan Hager’s “British Virgil: Four Renaissance Disguises of the Laocoön
Passage of Book 2 of the Aeneid”, Studies in English Literature 22.1 (Winter 1982), pp. 21-38; and O. B.
Hardison’s “Tudor Humanism and Surrey’s Translation of the Aeneid”, Studies in Philology 83.3
(Summer 1986), pp. 237-260.
6 “‘The Subtle Tree’: Idolatry and Material Memory in Surrey’s Aeneid”. Translation and Literature 20.2
(Summer 2011), pp. 137-56. p. 138.
!2