Yeats Passion with the Occult and Feminine Mystique Expressed in Poem

In the era which William Butler Yeats lived, the occult was not as inaccessible as it is today. Magic proved to be a solution to the ennui which pervaded many lives of the Anglo-Irish cast. Yeats, a member of this circle, was eager to discover his own identity as an Irishman. To accomplish this, he developed his own form of magic via incorporating the Celtic myths of his native land. Maud Gonne, the object of his desire throughout his life, was fused with his vision, thus creating a sense of a new generation that must be spawned to create the perfect Irish race. Yeats' early poetry is laden with some of the most complex yet classic images in the occult, which are often misunderstood in contemporary times. Yeats' 1899 collection of poems, The Wind Among the Reeds proved to generate "reactions to the volume [that] were quizzical. In some quarters bewilderment was expressed at [Yeats] deliberate search for obscurity…above all, the new volume's reliance on elaborate magical symbols was worrying" (Foster, 217). The troubled reader response is still justifiable today.

In the poem, The Song of Wandering Aengus, one can clearly see Yeats's fascination with the occult as a way of incorporating classic pagan and Celtic myths as a means of creating an alternative reality for his own nationalistic intentions. Maud Gonne is more then the tangible woman for Yeats-she is a symbol of that entire he is trying to attain. Therefore, Gonne is not just the physical woman, but a place of stature in the occult community, and a new Irish race reaching fruition. In the poem, Yeats magically transports the reader into a Celtic collective subconscious where a union between himself and Maud Gonne is displayed as the hopeful salvation of the Irish race.

Yeats takes the reader on a journey into the collective subconscious of Celtic pagan mentality where he will conceive a new version of the Irish self by means of astral projection. Any occult ritual begins with an invocation of the elements along with an announcement of one's intentions. Yeats effectively accomplishes this within the first stanza of The Song of Wandering Aengus. He mentions "wood", "fire", "moths" and a "stream", thus correlating with earth, fire, wind and water respectively. Now that the elements have been paid their dues, Yeats is ready to move onwards to a more experimental journey. If one takes into account the common images utilized by the occult community then it becomes clear that Yeats' first stanza of The Song of Wandering Aengus is with blatant reference to astral projection. The initial lines of the poem,

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;

refer both to a magical transgression that is about to take place, as well as a primordial forest with ancient man with his new found tool and key to his existence, fire, blazing him onwards, just as a fever of passion would rage. The reference to "hazel" is of extreme significance. Sacred trees feature in virtually all ancient cultures. Naturally, specific trees varied according to their propinquity to geographic location, but the magical and spiritual significance appears to be virtually universal. The action of touching wood, for luck or hope, stems from early beliefs of communing with tree spirits. To the Celts, the months of the year were attuned to the lunar cycle. The thirteen cycles of the year were measured from one full moon to the next, each succession being named after a sacred tree. For a magician interested in performing magic-clearly an image that Yeats' is embracing in this instance, using a "hazel wand" rather then a less magical sounding 'fishing pole'-according to the month in which one is performing a spell, power could be increased by the inclusion of some part of the appropriate tree. The Celtic month of Coll, which consists approximately from August 5th to September 1st, is correlated with the hazel tree. In magical circles, the energy of the Hazel Moon is believed to be good for contacting spirits but it is more renowned for enhancing shape shifting or astral projection rituals. This is exactly two phenomenon that Yeats will delve into in his wanderings in his adopted persona, Aengus. Yeats chooses the hazel tree rather then any other specifically for his purpose of weaving an image of Celtic mysticism. For example, if Yeats wanted to continue to create plant imagery to Maud Gonne (he associates her with apple blossoms-as will be explained in more depth in the second stanza) He could have chosen the tree associated with the day he met his muse-January 30th, 1889. This would have been in the Celtic month of Luis, thus correlating with the rowan tree. This plant is the tree of protection for the ancient Druids, and while both the wood and berries were used in magical rites (for example on Mays Eve, rowan berries were fastened to cow's tails to protect them from evil spirits that might be swarming on the magical night) it is not the key to magical travel power that Yeats is trying to achieve. Therefore, the poet extends his knowledge of the plants in the Celtic cycle to achieve a means to an end. The 'hazel wood' is more applicable, therefore his first encounter with the image of the 'glimmering girl' spawns from it in the ensuing stanza.

The fishing imagery evoked is actually the action of delving into the collective subconscious by means of astral projection. From here, Yeats can discover his ideal of Maud Gonne. When astral projecting, a common method used is to imagine oneself leaving the body, whilst attached to a 'silver cord'. This cord is ones attachment to the physical body. Normally it is invisible-like gravity. Whether visualized or not (many projectors don't feel the need to clutter of the astralscape) most have a need to feel it as a sign of connectedness of the physical body to the astral body. The image of the silver cord is found in diverse religions throughout history, such as Christianity, "Remember him-before the silver cord is severed, or the golden bowl is broken; before the pitcher is shattered at the spring, or the wheel broken at the well" (Ecclesiastes, 16:6-7), Hinduism and Shamanism. The berry attached the hazel wand seems to be a direct correlation to Yeats connecting the seed of himself via magic to the unconscious waters below him, where lost mysteries await.

Yeats proceeds directly into his voyage into the subconscious where he will encounter an image of Maud Gonne, continuing with the second half of the opening stanza,

And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

The time of day in this scene bears notice. "Aengus goes fishing in the twilight of dawn when 'white moths' fly and when the 'moth-like stars' flicker out, the time, as Yeats often pointed out, when miracles are most likely to take place" (Unterecker, 91). Indeed, this hour above all others is popularly believed to "represent the hour before dawn, the hour of witches and metamorphosis" this was the ideal time for him to "go back to the beginning of Irish culture, the twilight dawn when Ireland was 'Eire'" (Flannery, 67). Therefore, it is at this stage, that Yeats rips though the fabric of time entirely. The berry, which can easily be imagined as the seed of Yeats himself, connected mentally and magically to the silver thread, is plunged into the stream. Water is easily associated with a womb-like state, and naturally with the collective subconscious. While most people would partner astral projection with flying upwards, Yeats sees himself swimming downwards, into the realm of dreams and Celticism. He, the berry, is then consumed by a fish, which in a sense is his impregnation. "The poem [can be seen] as a versification of the legends Yeats paraphrases in his notes about women of the Sidhe who, disguised as fishes, enchant living men" (Unterecker, 91). The shape shifting, astral projection, and initial union with a form of Gonne have all taken place within the first stanza.

Yeats, now firmly in the realm of the unified subconscious, clearly makes the connection of his union and perspective progeny as a means of reviving a better Celtic Irish race in the second stanza of The Song of Wandering Aengus.

When I laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:

This scene is primarily about wish fulfillment. The ancient empire of Babylon, is a rich source of magic and a source of inspiration for magicians and would-be magicians such as Yeats. A key figure in the Babylonian magical system is Ishtar, the goddess of fertility and love, who was invoked to exorcise evil spirits. The eight-rayed Star of Ishtar was used as a protective talisman. (Yeats finds safety in the three eight-lined stanzas in this poem, rather then actually projecting) Ishtar is the forerunner of the genie; a figure conjured up from smoke and incense to grant your every desire. The flame, not in his mind anymore, but in his hearth-an image of the homestead, is about to transform into the image of his progeny. It is important to note that the "something", becomes "some one" (not someone). The "one" could be Yeats, Aengus, Gonne, the ancient Celtic man with primal fires, the reader, or more then likely the "one" unified conciousness of all of these. This "one" holds magical supremacy, for there is the realization of the power that is within names. When a name is realized and called, (and Yeats mentions that it is beckoned twice) particularly in magical and ancient custom, it means that the one with the knowledge can hold dominion over the one identified.

Yeats proceeds in his journey though magical imagery to find the idea of Maud Gonne pervading his thoughts and conciousness. The second stanza concludes with,
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

The "glimmering girl/With apple blossom in her hair" can easily be associated with Gonne, for "one way to read the poem is, of course, to remember that Yeats had first seen Maud Gonne standing beside a bouquet of apple blossoms and that he always identified apple blossoms with her complexion" (Unterecker, 91). Truly, Yeats had a lifelong obsession with Gonne, for not only does he try to reach self-actualization by possessing her immortally in prose, but she shared his political ambitions that he felt were key to the proper revival/survivial of Ireland. "The love triangle in The Wind Among the Reeds involves the poet in his several personae seeking respite from the overwhelming powers of the universe in a bodily relationship with a woman whose hair (and hair threads through the volume as a taken of erotic entanglement) forms a protective tent in which, as lover, he seeks sanctuary" (Brown, 111). This haven is not so easily attained, however. The idea of the woman-who is just as much Gonne, as she is Aengus, the poet, the berry and Yeats' hopeful progeny-"faded into the brightening air." This implies a sort of waking. Time here is irrelevant, in the sense that there is now real time, and not imagined magical time.

Judging by the final stanza, it would appear that Aengus' wanderings have been fruitless. Yeats realizes the task that is before him, that is, to revive the Celtic tradition in the hearts of the Irish populace. However, the key to seeing his dream come to fruition is now lost. The entire pace of the poem slows with the last lines,

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

At this stage the reader has been introduced to the three astrological bodies in The Song of Wandering Aengus, these being stars, the moon, and the sun. To comprehend their purpose in the poem it is essential to incorporate the weight of cultic symbolism whitch is inseparable from these images. Stars typically represent hope, faith, healing and above all, rebirth. Yeats' links this cultic image of the star cleverly to the insects fluttering about the vista. The moths are about to die, but that means that they have reached the peek of maturity and new life has begun elsewhere. The Moon, which is an extremely feminine entity in pagan traditions, whether it be the Greek virgin moon-goddess Artemis, or other cultic customs where the moon was the realm of the high priestess. It is the symbol of dreams, visions, and illusions. The moon, much like the feminine element which is tied to it, has been a source of both worship and superstition. The Sun is an entirely masculine symbol in occult traditions. It symbolizes vitality, success and joy. At its worst it represents arrogance, failure and delayed joys. The stars are gone, it is time for the feminine moon and the masculine sun to unite and give birth to a new entity, the awakened Irish conciousness-it is there, figuratively ripe for the picking, "now the blossoms have matured into the enormous shining fruit which light all things" (Unterecker, 91). However, "the natural world is the frustrate repetition of lands, hollow and hilly, through which the vain quest has led. The fire of nature, sun and moon, has become purely visionary...there is defeat in the poem, for the visionary hope of the last stanza is both stronger and more dangerous then despair would be" (126, Bloom). The poet knows that his quest if futile, for it is just as impossible to remember a dream in its entirety as it is to revive the culture of the past.

"Yeats is understood to have seen in Gonne what his imagination had already determined from poetry and art she should be-an image of womanhood, like the fairy Niamh, before which he would worship in frustrated, spiritual, unrequited 'love'" (Brown, 49).

"Yeats used it as a song of Red Hanrahan also, but makes it the song of the god of youth, beauty, and poetry in The Wind Among the Reeds. Aengus is Yeats's god of lovers, in the sense that every man can say: 'whenever I am in love it is not I that am in love but Aengus who is always looking for Edaine through somebody's eyes.'[See Richard Ellmann, the identity of Yeats, New York 1954 p 312-14] The strength of the lyric is that it finds inevitable expression for this universal compulsiveness. It echoes Keats and Morris, and overtly displays what is best in Pre-Raphaelite technique" (126, Bloom).

The concluding lines of this poem,

The silver apples of the moon
The golden apples of the sun

"derive from the Sephirotic tree of the Kabala. There is the bird imagery, particularly that of hawk and heron; and the White Heron of the play Calvary which I think he saw as a kind of anti-type of God" (45, Henn).

Importantly to note in the imagery of The Tower is the reference the classic occult symbolism found in the major Arcana of the tarot deck. The image of the tower (which is also commonly referred to as 'The Tower struck by Lightening' or 'The House of God') is a symbol that indicates a great need for change through violent destruction. The result of this change is chaos, yet freedom. It is an apocalyptic image, which scholars associate with the fall of the Holy Roman Empire. Here, we can see that Yeats is no longer content to dream his reality, but he is using the symbol of the tower to herald a new time in his life as well as in history.

Doggett argues that in two key poems from "The Tower," "Nineteen Hundred and Nineteen" and "Meditations in Time of Civil War," Yeats is exercising his "one duty" to rewrite history. The constructions of history in the poems are discussed.

Yeats tried to revive an old Gaelic tradition as a means to seek an identity for himself as well as the Anglo-Irish cast. Unfortunately for him, while placing the secrets of the Celts in prose, he had, as all revival movements inevitably do, suffocated the cause. By placing an element in prose, it has been established and then destroyed. Because of this, the children of tomorrow, the cast that Yeats believed would be the 'indomitable Irishry' shed their Celtic heritage for a more continental appeal, as easily as they would shed sweaters woven by their ancient mothers-for shame of their past.

Works Cited

*Bloom, Harold. Yeats. New York and London: Oxford University Press, 1970.
*Brown, Terence. The Life of W.B. Yeats: A Critical Biography.
*Donoghue, Denis. The Integrity of Yeats. (HENN)
Ellmann, Richard. Yeats the Man and the Masks. Oxford, Toronto, Melbourne, 1979.
*Flannery, Mary Catherine. Yeats and Magic: The Earlier Works. Gerrards Cross,
Buckingshire: Colin Smythe, Ltd., 1977.
*Foster, R. F. W.B. Yeats: a life vol. 1 The Apprentice Mage. Oxford, New York:
Oxford University Press, 1998.
*Unterecker, John. A Reader's Guide to William Butler Yeats. Guildford and London:
Billing & Sons Ltd., 1969.
W. B. Yeats: The Major Works, ed. Edward Larrissy, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997.
KING JAMES BIBLE

Works Consulted

Elsbeth, Marguerite. The Grail Castle: Male Myths and Mysteries in the Celtic Tradition
Elsbeth, Marguerite. The Silver Wheel: Women's Myths and the Celtic Tradition
Franklin, Anna and Sue Lavender. Pagan Feasts
Franklin, Anna and Sue Phillips. Herbcraft
Galenorn, Yasmine. Embracing the Moon. St. Paul, Minnesota: Llwewllyn
Publications, 2001.
McCoy, Edain. Witta: An Irish Pagan Tradition
McCoy, Edain. Celtic Women's Spirituality
Pulford, de Nicloa. The Book of Spells. New York: Barron's Educational Series,
Quarto Inc., 1998.