Love and Longing in the Giaour: Voice of an Observer of The Immobile Heartbroken

Lines 915-970

The unknown third person of this passage serves as a voyeur, not into a scene or a moment but into the interior of the Giaour, directly or indirectly. It is important to focus in on the “unknown” aspect of this narrator. It is this lack of identity which allows one to insert many perspectives onto this voice. It is in this manner that ambiguity can lead to multiple readings, this is an important matter to keep in mind but this reading will not focus on that but instead will focus on the essentials of the poem which can then be reinscribed by having an identity attributed to the speaker. The lack of any mention of the Giaour, directly, also lends itself to this process. The passage is more a vignette of sentiments and analogy than an outright statement that this is in fact the Giaour, what can, however, be said is that these emotions can then be placed over or within the Giaour.

Generally speaking the passage surmises itself into the last few lines reading:

Less hideous far the tempest’s roar,

Than ne’er to brave the billows more—

Thrown, when the war of winds is o’er

A lonely wreck on fortune’s shore,

‘Mid sullen calm, and silent bay,

Unseen to drop by dull decay;—

Better to sink beneath the shock

Than moulder piecemeal on the rock

(963-970)

And a few preceding it which read:

The keenest pangs the wretched find

     Are rapture to the dreary void—

The leafless desert of the mind—

     The waste of feelings unemploy’d—

(957-960)

Their message is a clear one: that succumbing to the despair of losing love is the utmost tragedy, even grieving is some form of feeling which provides relief but it is the act of becoming static in emotion of despair which damns the broken hearted. This emphasis is placed in the latter passage which follows an ABAB rhyme scheme rather than the couplet form which had been followed in the rest of the passage. There is a break in the couplets which creates a space, on the page and in the spoken word, which emphasises this condition of release provided by even the subtlest of affectual winds which are referred to by the use of “billows”, the very thing which moves ships. So it is the Giaour who this ship represents, a broken love, and though it may be the case that what is made from love “must remain,/But break—before it bend again” it seems this love will not be reforged in any new love but will brittle, as Tennyson put it, (perhaps more clearly): “How dull it is to pause, to make an end,/ To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!/ As though to breathe were life! Life piled on life” (Ulysses 22-24). A question to linger on is how we might upset a reading of this by suggesting that the speaker is the Giaour himself who is ruminating, or by considering that it may be of importance to ask who knows such feelings so well that they seem to speak so truly and appropriately to the spirit of the Giaour. A text by Mishima, Yukio comes to mind, The Damask Drum from his collection of Five Modern Noh Plays which suggests that the value of the act of loving is one which is enveloped in the very act, not in the logistics of whether the love is of any particular variety or of a rare nature. It seems this spirit towards love and heartbreak runs through both works, one which suggests that respect, an utmost respect must be given to feeling things.

Leila’s Metamorphosis

Portrait of Lord Byron

Lines 352-387 describes a Muslim boatman”Emir,” who allows the Giaour passage onto his boat. The Giaour instructs the boatman to go into the deep waters, the bundled package is what we assume to be Leila.

“The burthen ye so gently bear,
Seems one that claims your utmost care,
And, doubtless, holds some precious freight—…” (Lines 361-363)

The boatman describes the Giaour’s emotions and burden in holding the bundled parcel, and can only assume how precious it must be to him by the way he is holding it. He sympathizes with the Giaour and how hard of a task it must have been for him and though it might not have literally been his longest journey, in theory it feels like it.

“Still less and less, a speck of white
That gemmed the tide, then mocked the sight;
And all its hidden secrets sleep,
Known but to Genii of the deep,
Which, trembling in their coral caves,
They dare not whisper to the waves.” (Lines 382-387)

The particular passage kind of reminds me of the ending of the titanic, the object of his affection sinking into the depths of the ocean. These lines in particular are interesting because it seems like Leila transforms in the rhetoric of the poem from a human into pearl and coral, vanishing into the realm of the seas ‘hidden secrets’. I think an explanation for Leila’s metamorphoses would be Byron’s inability to see death as an end or that death is only a possibility to be reborn (his obsession with vampires for example)– it’s his way of keeping her alive in a sense.

We’re All Judgmental Characters

The humanity that is expected to be found in the human race is heavily expressed from a Muslim perspective in lines 723 through 797 of Lord Byron’s “The Giaour.” The intense intellectual fragment of a Turkish Tale is one that not only draws, but colors in the images that are seen in Lord Byron’s chatty phrases.

The Giaour is a tale fit to recount as one that is of a fairytale romance. Ironically, there is much death for it to be compared to a true Disney fairytale; perhaps one that is found in the Grimm novels instead. In this romance a love triangle occurs where the Hero (the Giaour) saves the damsel in distress (aka the prince, aka Leila) from the villain (Hassan). Eventually, as with any Disney fairytale, the hero and the villain fight till the gruesome death of Hassan. The aforementioned lines occur after the battle, after the death of Hassan and the victory of the Giaour, from the perspective of a true Muslim – there are many references to the Holy shrine Mecca, and the afterlife as many believers of the Islamic religion believe it to be. The narrator of these short lines is denoted to be a Muslim spectator.

The entirety of the partial narrative is of how a monument is raised to Hassan in the very spot he had fallen while in combat with an infidel. And because of this, he is assured of the luxurious bliss that is sought after in the afterlife. The narrator goes on to describe in lines 747-786 that to repent for his sins the infidel will be observed as the living dead – a vampire of all things! And finally a monk is inquired after in the remaining 10 lines – who is he? Someone that was glimpsed on a galloping steed many years ago.

The nearly immediate remorse felt by the infidel (the Giaour) was malicious enough to practically force him to self implode. His remorse is a product of extreme guilt which reveals much about the Giaour’s identity. He is expressed as a passionate man that surely does not deviate from his deep emotions. After all, in cold blood he murdered the ‘villian’ of the story – he was spurned on by anger that followed from his powerful feelings of grief for the loss of his love, Leila. What his actions explain about his character, is that the Giaour is rather impulsive. His lack of self control over his actions leads him into a perilous state ultimately compromising his integrity and character. He then sees himself as a creature that feeds off of the life of others.
And because of the repetitive references to the Mecca and Islamic afterlife views, it is evident that the narrator (the Muslim spectator) is a spiritual figure that seems to feel as if he can comment on the lives of others. In simpler terms, the Muslim spectator is a judgmental asshole. During the time that the Giaour is at his lowest, the narrator is preaching the Islamic views. Think about it that way.

The Giaour Speaks: But Does not Repent

In the final passages of “The Giaour” the person who is telling the story is dying. His final words are to the abbot of a monastery. He does not ask not ask to be forgiven for his deeds. He in fact, implores the abbot not to absolve him, “Na, start not–no–nor bend thy knee,/ Nor midst my sin such act record;/ Though wilt absolve me from the deed,/” (1036-1038). He is on his death bed, yet he refuses to let the priest absolve him of sin… why? Possibly it is because he is not sorry for the murder he committed, he regrets her death and mourns her death, he states, “His death sits lightly; but her fate/ Has made me– what though well mayst hate./” (1073-1074). His love defines him and at the end he asked not for freedom from his guilt, but instead a witness.

He says, “Waste not thine orison, despair/ Is mightier than thy pious prayer.? I would not, if I might be blest;/ I want no paradise but rest” (1067-1069). In other words your prayers can not break through my despair. So stricken from his grief at losing his love he wants nothing more than go to his final rest. He is not sad for the murder he committed in fact he is clear that the guy had it coming. His love, and the grief that results from that love, is his constant companion and to be absolved of guilt, might lesson the power of that love.

Fate: The Actual Protagonist

The third person narration in lines 388 to 654 depicts the Giaour as an epic hero of sorts. The fact that this part of the tale is told through a third narrator would suggest that it is unbiased, but that is not the case. The narrator demonstrates great admiration for Giaour by depicting him as a fated character. For example, towards the end of this section, the narrator notes that “Lost Leila’s love-accursed Giaour” (line 619). In using the word “accursed”, the narrator illustrates that Giaour was fated to lose Leila and thus destined to kill Hassan because he is cursed. His actions are driven by a “curse” as if he had no choice in the matter because the loss of his love and murder are part of his fate. In doing this, the narrator removes agency from Giaour and Leila. Giaour becomes another victim of fate and thus anything that he does becomes a product of a greater power. Further, the third person narration not only removes agency from Giaour by making him a victim of fate, but it does the same to Leila. For instance, the narrator explains “Beauty lure the full-grown child” (line 396) and “The lovely toy so fiercely sought Has lost its charm by being caught” (line 4040-405). In referring to Leila as “Beauty”, the narrator demonstrates how Leila’s destiny was to be beautiful and to lure Giaour. Thus, like Giaour, her agency becomes nonexistent due to the fact that she is reduced to be a “lovely toy” that was necessary for Giaour to fulfill his destiny. She is an object to be admired, a catalyst to Giaour’s fate.

Asking for Forgiveness

After reading and analyzing the last lines of the marvelous poem of Lord Byron, The Giaour, I concluded that this narrative perspective is reveling that the Giaour is in his deathbed, and he is confessing his romantic and dramatic tale to the Abbot of the monastery. In his delirium, he starts regretting because he did not arrive on time to save his true and only love, who died for him. As he says,

“And I, alas! Too late to save,

Yet all I then could give—I gave—

‘Twas some relief—our foe a grave” (Lord Byron, lines-1070-1072).

He takes revenge and kills the murderer of his love; however, at the same time he knows that this will not bring her back. It seems that he is trying to find some type of support, and ask the priest to forgive his sins. Through all the poem, the Giaour narrates his tragic and lovely story. Also, he mentions several religious characters, such as Mahomet, Allan, and Cain. As it is written,

“One cry to Mahomet for aid,

One prayer to Alla—all he made:

He knew and crossed me in the fray—

I gazed upon him where he lay,” (lines, 1082-1085).

This revels that even though, he was not a religious person and he committed many sins the Giaour is ask forgiveness and also discloses his emotions and fears. On the other hand, this narrative perspective reveals that there is more than one speaker. The Giaour starts recounting the tale, but at the end of it, an omniscient narrator ends the story. As it says, “This broken tale was all we knew. Of her he lov’d, or him he slew” (lines, 1333-1334). the Abbot of the monastery also participates in his tale, but his role in it is more about listening to the Giaour’s sins and forgiving him without judging him. In conclusion, these lines reveal the Giaour’s feeling, emotions and his regrets.

One of the First Sightings of the Byronic Hero

In lines 798 to 915, the Friar of the monastery describes the Giaour as one of its members. However, the tone and details the Friar uses to describe the Giaour is one of the first poetic examples of how a Byronic hero is seen by other members of the story. This description begins on line 800, where it reads:

And here it soothes him to abide / For some dark deed he will not name/(lines 800-801)

These details continue in the next lines as well:

I’d judge him some stray renegade,/Repentant of the change he made/(lines 812-813)

Much in his visions mutters he/Of maiden ‘whelmed beneath the sea;/                                        Of sabres clashing – foemen flying,/ Wrongs aveng’d – and Moslem dying./(lines 822-825)

In the following passage, from lines 832-936, the Friar seems to be describing the Giaour as he looks at him. This is where we receive a true description of the Byronic hero. Note the description of the Giaour’s eyes (lines 832-849) to which the Friar is actually afraid of, to his smile (lines 850 – 856), to one of the most telling descriptions of a Byronic hero. Beginning with line 857, the lines read:

Well were it so – such ghastly mirth/From joyaunce ne’er deriv’d its birth.-/                             But sadder still it were to trace/What once were feelings in that face – /                                       Time hath not yet the features fixed,/But brighter traits with evil mixed -/                                 And there are hues not always faded,/Which speak a mind not all degraded/                              Even by the crimes through which it waded -/the common crowd but see the gloom/            Of wayward deeds – and fitting doom -/The close observer can espy/                                           A noble soul, and lineage high.-/Alas! though both bestowed in vain,/                                         Which Grief could change – And Guilt could stain -/It was no vulger tenement/                        To which such lofty gifts were lent,/And still with little less than dread/                                     On such the sight is riveted.-/The roofless cot decayed and rent,/                                                  Will scarce delay the passer by-/The tower by war or tempest bent,                                              While yet may frown one battlement,/Demands and daunts the stranger’s eye-/                    Each ivied arch – and pillar lone/Pleads haughtily for glories gone!/(lines 857-882)

In these lines we can see the beginnings of describing the Byronic hero. Note the attention given to how the Friar can still see how what the Giaour did in his life is reflected in his face. Another thing to note is how the Friar observes that the Giaour was once a person of high standing. The lines “The close observer can espy/A noble soul, and lineage high.-/” speak to how the Giaour still is seen as a man of importance. The rest of the lines in this passage speak to how the “goodness” of the Giaour has been turned into a blight. They detail “Which Grief could change – and Guilt could stain -/” and how that has left the Giaour.

For my final point, I will be looking at lines 912-915, which read:

If ever evil angel bore/The form of mortal, such he wore-/                                                               By all my hope of sins forgiven/Such looks are not of earth or heaven!/ (lines 912-915)

In these final lines of this section, we can see how the Byronic hero can be seen as more than a man due to how he presents himself. This is clear in these lines, where the Friar cannot attribute the look on the Giaour’s face to either “earth or heaven.” This shows us how Lord Byron wanted his titular creation to be seen by other characters in the story. In this, one of the very first examples of a Byronic hero, the Giaour is misunderstood and even feared by those in the monastery. This fear does not dissipate even by the time that the Giaour decides to tell his story to the Abbot. Lord Byron wants his Byronic heroes to be seen as different, even strange, to other characters in his stories. Because this is the case, they cannot ask the people around them for help, and thus must brood more in order to consider this factor, in addition to the sins they have already committed.

 

Underestimating Biases: Hassan’s Downfall

In lines (610-619) the Giaour, when presented through a multitude of differing perspectives, paints the image of a man to be feared and force to be reckoned with. Given the partial narrative perspectives from fisherman to Hassan, of the Giaour, we are provided with particularly biased illustrations of a man whom has lost something dear. The importance of his clothing for example serves well to highlight multiple readings which in the viewers eyes present the real Giaour. The lines reading “I know him by his jet-black barb, Though now array’d in Arnaut garb,” show the importance of the color in context to both the mood of the poem and even the Giaour’s mood as particularly foreboding or malicious (ln. 614-15). The partial narrative perspective in essence reveals how any inclination of the Giaour’s true identity will be marred by biases and based on pure assumption since only observations are being made by people whom are influenced by external devices. One such device I mentioned in the quote above, since the Giaour makes his appearance in “Arnaut garb” it can be inferred that the sentiments towards the Giaour will not be favorable specifically because an “Arnaut” is a Turkish word used to denote Albanians. Considering the sentiments toward Albanians, Hassan’s automatic hatred for the Giaour becomes palpable and also shows how blinded Hassan can become in his perceptions. Much of his blind rage also undermines his own ability to survey his enemy as he underestimates the Giaour’s “apostate” (or dissenter) form and eventually seals his own demise.

The friar speaks

In the fragment from 798-915 of Lord Byron’s The Giaour , he is trying to create an idea and the image of  YeYan Caloyer, a member of the Monks . This guy comes during the summer time and he is considered a fellow member of this circle. This time around he was pushed to obey a dark deed, but he refuses to talk about it. Since this moment he doesn’t follow all the rules and doesn’t show any interest in the traditions of this religion. “But never at our vesper prayer/ nor ever before confession chair/ kneels he, nor reck when to arise/ incense or anthem to the skies/ but broods within his cell alone” (801-806). He is depressed in his cell alone, either because he doesn’t feel comfortable or because he has to stay away from people. Maybe we see more guilt than depression. People are confused about his race and also his faith, by the look on his face of a Christian but his travel over the ocean of  other cultures like Persia, Bosnia, Turks that he has learned from. Just this fact in a way makes him a little hard to trust, so much that the Giaour had judged him as a renegade. I think this judgment mostly come from his physical appearance more than his knowledge of different cultures and religions. He regrets the changes and a decision he has made even though there’s still no rejection from the rest of the member of his group nor the holy shrine, he does not take the sacred bread nor wine.

The Trope of Contestation of Greek Hellenism in Relation to Lord Byron’s “The Giaour,” lines 180-287

The revolutionary aspect of this work is evident in Lord Byron’s use of the anti-hero, the Giaour, and as he rides out to contest Hassan’s murderous crime against Leila, the reader is presented in lines 180-287 of Lord Byron’s “The Giaour” with an unnamed narrator.

Provided that the narrator is Muslim in this fragment, the narrator says, “I loathe thy race,” (ln 191) in reference to the Venetian Giaour who is caught, in the midst of an action of his riding out, with “[no] weary waves,” (ln 187) in his heart.

If we take the love triangle between the Giaour, Hassan, and Leila to represent the Hellenic ideal, then we are immediately imbued with a sense of Orientalism in which the Ottoman is pursued in retribution for his crimes against the poetic grace of classical Greece, symbolized by Leila. Lord Byron reconstructs Orientalism under a romantic eye by playing with themes of sexuality and then illustrating such exchanges with various, fragmented narrators.

The love triangle becomes a love parallelogram upon the reader receiving a fourth character- the Muslim speaker of lines 180-287. It is here that the contestation of the contest between Hassan and Giaour occurs- as an exchange of ideals culminated by the tensions of European/Oriental binary. We are thus presented with a revolutionary Lord Byron who cleverly subverts a dimension of Orientalism by imparting in the Muslim narrator a necessary statement of “loathing” against the Venetian rider. The narrator is merely present, working the land, when the Giaour, in his notorious affair, speeds by, on his way to kill Hassan. The narrator then proceeds to ask if Ottoman posterity, or “Othman’s son’s should slay or shun,” (ln 199) the Giaour. This telescopes to a readership that may or may not be willing to respond to the Giaour’s violence against our slain father’s past- or in the case of a British readership, the revival of Greek Hellenism in the European Renaissance indicates a posterity already involved with the contestation of the incident between the Giaour and Hassan, and alternatively, between European imperialists and those subjugated under political, economic, and artistic propaganda. The muslim narrator continues characterizing the Giaour after slaying the Ottoman; we are told the Venetian is arrogant and superior in countenance, “The crag is won- no more is seen/ His Christian crest and haughty mien,” (ln 255-256).

Where Lord Byron himself is recreating an Hellenic interpretation of the Venetian conquest over a sinful Ottoman lover, there is a deconstruction of the present, romantic conflicts made obvious with the poem’s use of a fragmented, unnamed narrator- one who is present in the action, watching the Giaour come “thundering” and drawing “My gaze of wonder as he flew,” (201). The contestation of the romantic affair occurs with the narrator’s own contemptuous description of the Venetian, his crude characterizations, and the displaced point-of-view that allows a voyeuristic reconstruction of Hellenism. This necessitates a departure from the traditional, Orientalist reconstruction in which the Venetian is strong and just in his conquest, while the Ottoman is envious and deserves to be slaughtered.

The metonymy of a love triangle for the implication of Venetian/Ottoman conflict serves to ultimately transcend the hero of Lord Byron’s poetry. An anti-hero is thus born in the Giaour, one who is loathed by his own narrator, and yet, who instills the value of contestation as a trope of Byron’s Greek Hellenism- a feat that makes this poem stand out in an era of modern-day “Enlightenment” against tyranny. This trope survives as a distinguishing feature in revolutionary literature including the African-American traditions of W.E.B. DuBois and Booker T. Washington in which contestations against racism are described, and furthermore, those contestations are contested by each other in searing criticisms of the other’s ideals and political, social, and economic affairs. Washington contests Reconstruction policy, ironically, in favor of segregation, and tells his readers that newly-freed slaves must not seek political refuge, but rather, should depart from traditional systems, and yet, in opposition, DuBois criticizes his contemporary in a contestation for freedom. The reader is forced to think for himself/herself as leaders, whole schools-of-thought, and political movements such as neoclassicism, Orientalism, and Hellenism are questioned, and sometimes even “loathed” by the unnamed narrators created in Lord Byron’s poetry.