The
Creative Process of Fancy and Imagination in S.T. Coleridge’s Poem “Kubla Khan”
"Kubla
Khan" is a poem about the creative process. According to the account given
in the headnote published with "Kubla Khan" in 1816 should be
regarded as a factual account of the poem's origin. Coleridge sensed that he
composed a poem in simultaneous response to a vision seen during "a
profound sleep.” Therefore, how the poem manifests the concept of poetic
creativity of fancy and imagination becomes a researchable issue.
According
to the headnote, the poem is exactly what Coleridge set about when he awoke.
Having "a distinct recollection of the whole, and taking his pen, ink, and
paper, he instantly and eagerly wrote down the lines that are here
preserved" (296). Had the act of transferring the "composition"
from mind to paper been completed, it would have represented the final but
all-important step in the creative process, for externalizing the artist's
conception not only gives it a concrete embodiment, but also makes it
accessible to others who can then respond to it as the artist responded.
Unfortunately, this last step of the creative process was interrupted by
"a person on business from Porlock" who detained Coleridge
"above an hour," after which he found "that though he still
retained some vague and dim recollection of the general purport of the vision,
yet, with the exception of some eight or ten scattered lines and images, all
the rest had passed away like the images on the surface of a stream into which
a stone has been cast.
Critics
disagree on just how much of the published poem actually reflects the vision.
Some maintain that it is only the first two stanzas, the third stanza having
been added later as a postscript explaining why the poem could not be finished
in its original form (Schneider 247-48). Still others think Coleridge wrote all
fifty-four lines between his waking and the interruption (Stevenson 605).
Another possibility, supported I think by the head note, is that the published
poem incorporates in the first stanza, which corresponds closely with Purchas
His Pilgrimage, the work Coleridge was reading when he fell asleep, the
"eight or ten scattered lines and images" committed to paper between
Coleridge's waking and the interruption by the man from Porlock.' The rest of
the poem as published is most probably the result of later composition.
The
landscape described in stanzas one and two of "Kubla Khan" is the
usual starting point for any reading of the poem in terms of the creative
process. Even if, as I believe, the first stanza basically reflects all that
was transcribed of the grand poem conceived during the vision, it nevertheless
stands in close relationship with the second stanza, the two forming a unit but
differing in focus, as I shall explain later. The relational pattern
established in the first two stanzas between the chasm, fountain, river,
caverns, and underground sea does suggest the mind and its activities. As Irene
Chayes argues, "the landscape with its descending levels would be the mind
as structure, and the processes within it, summed up in the flowing of the
river, 'meandering with a mazy motion,' the mind as activity" (7). It
should be emphasized from the outset that the poem reads "In Xanadu"
not "At Xanadu." Thus, everything described in the first two stanzas
is "In Xanadu"-the fountain, chasm, river, caverns, sea, as well as
Kubla Khan, his garden and his pleasure-dome. If the landscape reflects the
mind and its activities, then Xanadu is the symbolic name for the mind.
The
basic structural feature of Xanadu is its circularity, defined by the course of
Alph, "the sacred river" (line 3). Rising out of the "deep
romantic chasm" (1. 12) amid the turbulent but intermittent gushings of a
"mighty fountain" (1. 19) which is its source in the upper or visible region of Xanadu, the river flows
"with a mazy motion / Through wood and dale" (11. 25-26) until it
reaches "the caverns measureless to man" (1. 27). There it descends
"in tumult" (1. 28) into what is called alternately a "sunless
sea" (1. 5) or "lifeless ocean" (1. 28), that is, into the
lower, hidden region of Xanadu. I call the visible and hidden regions of Xanadu
correspond to the conscious and unconscious realms of the mind.
Warren
Stevenson points out, "the river presumably returns to the fountain via
the sunless sea, like a serpent with its tail in its mouth-the ancient symbol
of eternity”(609). The structure of the Xanadu landscape is analogous in that
it encompasses both light and dark, visible and hidden, conscious and
unconscious aspects united through the circular course of the river. As the
basic structural pattern of the Xanadu mind-landscape, circular motion allows
depiction of the conscious and unconscious, the measured and measureless
aspects co-existing in the mind's processes. The perpetual, circular course of
the river reflects the unity of the diverse and seemingly opposed elements.
The
fountain is a necessary component for creativity in the poem. As the immediate
source of the river in the visible or conscious region of Xanadu, the fountain and the chasm from which
it "momently" gushes represent the well-spring through which the
unconscious becomes conscious. The fountain-chasm symbolizes the initiating
point of conscious thought, depicted as a violent but potentially fertile
springing forth from what has been "sunless" and
"lifeless," dark and unformed. Because the passage from the
unconscious to the conscious is shrouded in mystery, the place where that
passage or birth occurs is appropriately "holy and enchanted" (14),
like the originating stage of life itself. Irene Chayes claims that the river
"corresponds to the secondary imagination" (10) is unconvincing.
Like
the fountain, the river is also a necessary condition for creativity in that it
presumably fertilizes the ground upon which creation takes place in the poem but
the river itself is not a creative power any more than the fountain is. Nevertheless,
even as the fountain is "holy and enchanted," the river is properly
termed "sacred" because it represents the stream of thought; it is
the life of the mind, the unifying first principle of all mental activity,
signified by its name, Alph. As indicated earlier, the river flows through the
conscious realm of Xanadu from a source ultimately rooted in the unconscious to
a terminal point that returns it once again to that dark, mysterious region. In
contrast to the fountain-chasm, the "caverns measureless to man" (4)
represent the initiating point of the unfathomable unconscious, the
"sunless" or "lifeless" underground sea. There, the river
is seemingly lost as it becomes undifferentiated in the formless sea but only
to well up again through the fountain-chasm, ever new yet ever the same.
According
to Coleridge, the imagination is the mind's "shaping or modifying
power" (Biographia 160), the "true inward creatrix," that
"instantly out of the chaos of elements or shattered fragments of memory,
puts together some form to fit it" (107). In the poem, that function is
best fulfilled by Kubla Khan himself, for it is he alone who creates in the
mind landscape. Although he is neither a symbol of God nor of "Mankind",
his role in the poem is all-important, a point reinforced by the very title of
the poem. As the mind's creative power, Kubla Khan is a reflection of the
divine in man, what Coleridge calls "a repetition in the finite mind of
the eternal act of creation in the infinite I AM" (Biographia 167). As the
imagination, Kubla Khan resides in the mind "In Xanadu" and there he
creates the visions that must then be embodied in art.
Kubla
Khan's creation best justifies his identification as the imagination.
Considered in its totality, his creation reflects a triple structure, and
Coleridge would have known that three is the Pythagorean number signifying
completion and the synthesis of opposing elements (Cirlot 222). At the center
of Kubla's creation stands the pleasure-dome with its opposing elements of sun
and ice unified into what is later called "a miracle of rare device"
(1. 35). Surrounding the dome and forming the second of the three structural
divisions are "gardens bright with sinuous rills" (1. 8) and
"forests ancient as the hills" (1. 10). Like the sun and ice of the
dome, the gardens and forests reflect opposing elements, the gardens suggesting
the ordered, cultivated, and artificial and the forests the free, untamed, and
natural.
Yet,
despite their opposition, both seem to blend harmoniously in their
"here" and "there" placement around the dome. They are
further unified by the third structural division of Kubla's creation, for the
gardens and forests are in turn "with walls and towers ... girdled
round" (7). Even this third division reflects a union of opposites, the
walls representing the horizontal and the towers the vertical or even perhaps
the feminine and masculine respectively.6 Some have specu lated that the outer
enclosure of walls and towers forms a square or rectangle (Suther 242; Woodring
362-63), but the words "girdled round" suggest that even this portion
is circular in shape. Imagistically, Kubla's entire creation could be said to
resemble a domed, three-tiered crown, the walls and towers forming the outer
circlet. As such, the creation emblems Kubla's crowning achievement: his transmutation
of opposing elements into a unified whole symbolizing perfection.
As
described in the first stanza, the creation reflects the shaping and modifying, the balancing and
reconciling power of imagination, not, as Chayes argues, the mere "work of
the arranging and ornamenting fancy" (8). The idea of achieved perfection
is further implied by the "twice five miles" occupied by the total
creation (a dimension I take as referring to the diameter of the whole circular
structure), for ten is the Pythagorean number that raises all things to unity
and is considered the number of perfection (Cirlot 223). The act of building is unnecessary "In
Xanadu" because the imagination is a "synthetic and magical
power" which "instantly out of the chaos of elements ... puts
together some form to fit it." Significantly, the only reference to
building in the poem comes later in stanza three, and there it is the
"I" who pro claims he "would build that dome in air" (46). The
hiatus (break) between the "decree" of stanza one and the
"build" of stanza three is crucial to an understanding of the poem as
a metaphorical expression of the mind's creative process.
Whereas
the first stanza focuses on Kubla's creation itself, the second stanza focuses
on that creation in relation to the surrounding landscape, particularly the
river. n. The instant Kubla's creation came into existence, it would be
reflected on the river, and that is how it is seen in the second stanza.
Because its reflection is projected midway on the waves between the
"ceaseless turmoil" of the fountain and the "tumult" of the
caverns leading to the "lifeless ocean," Kubla's creation has an
uncertain reality in relation to the river:
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the
mingled measure
From the fountain and
the caves. (31-34)
Although
it presumably fertilized the ground where Kubla's creation came to be, the
river merely allows the "shadow" of that creation to be reflected
back on itself. The stream of thought supplies imagination with the
"fertile ground" upon which to exercise its "synthetic and
magical power," and it simultaneously serves as the mirror upon which the
imagination projects or reflects its creation. If stanza one begins with creation,
stanza two ends with impending destruction. The creation of stanza one is a
floating shadow in stanza two, and both have been lost in the passage of time.
The
only counter against the implied loss is missing from the first two stanzas,
but it is recognized and celebrated in stanza three, an integral part of the
poem's metaphor.. As Chayes argues, stanza three is a corrective stanza, but it
does not reflect a "new creative process" (17) at work in the poem. .
The picture must be painted, the statue sculpted, the poem written to be
considered finally as fully realized works of art. In other words, the artist
must act on the conception; there must be "consciousness of effort,"
reflecting what Coleridge calls imagination "co existing with the
conscious will" (Biographia 167). Through an effort of will, the artist
can, as it were, rescue the conception and give it an external form through
art. That finalizing step is the subject of stanza three.
The
vision of the damsel with the dulcimer singing of Mt. Abora symbolizes the
artist in the act of executing what has been conceived or created. Because this
vision is also from the past, it may reflect Coleridge's own past achievements,
but more likely it represents those of artists in general that serve as models
or examples for the "I" of stanza three. e. As depicted, the damsel
gives outward expression to her own inner vision or imaginative conception in
"symphony and song." In so doing, she transmits her conception and
awakens in those who hear a responding sense of pleasure or delight. Together
her "sym phony and song" is analogous to the written poem, the
symphony or underlying melody corresponding to the poem's rhythm or meter and
the song to its words or images, both combined as a unified expression that
embodies and externalizes the inner conception.
The
"I" of stanza three is the poet recognizing the need to bridge the gap between conception and execution,
between the decree and the building. To that end, he would follow the damsel's
example:
Could I revive within
me
Her symphony and song,
To such delight 'twould
win me,
That with music loud
and long,
I would build that dome
in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice! (42-47)
The
union of symphony and song, meter and word, form and content would allow the
poet to execute Kubla's decree by building the "dome in air.” The final
emphasis in the poem falls on the effects that would be produced on those who
hear the poet's own music/poem.
Thus,
the original poem begun but never finished becomes finally a poem about the
creative process, symbolically depicting the unexpressed fragility of the
original conception while at the same time affirming the powerful effect of
that conception when built or ex pressed through the efforts of the poet's
conscious will working in tandem with imagination. r." The published poem
is a finished work about a fragment. The three stanzas of the published poem
reflect in their own "symphony and song" the lost tripartite creation
once decreed by Kubla Khan in the Xanadu of the poet's mind.
Works
Cited
Chayes,
Irene H. "'Kubla Khan' and the Creative Process." Studies in
Romanticism 6 (1966): 1-21.
Cirlot,
J. E. A Dictionary of Symbols. Trans.
Jack Sage. New York: Philosophical Library, 1963.
Coleridge,
Samuel Taylor. “Anima Poetae.” Ed. E. H. Coleridge. Boston, 1895.
Biographia
Literaria. Ed. George Watson. New York: Dent, 1956.
The
Collected Letters of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Ed. E. L. Griggs. 4 vols.
Schneider,
Elisabeth. Coleridge, Opium, and Kubla Khan. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1953.
Suther,
Marshall. Visions of Xanadu. New York: Columbia UP, 1965.
Woodring,
Carl R. "Coleridge and the Khan." Essays in Criticism 9 (1959):
361-68.