Metamorphosis

Deriving from Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, the Lady of Shalott, through Lord Alfred Tennyson's rendition, becomes a mythological figure. Confined to an isle upstream from King Arthur's Camelot, she weaves what she sees in the mirror into tapestries. Later on when Pre-Raphaelitism was at its height, "The Lady of Shalott," due to its medieval aura, its tragic beauty, and its artist trope, gained popularity among painters like William Holman Hunt (1827-1910) and John William Waterhouse (1849-1917). While most people read this fictional character as a tragic yet beautiful heroine--Poe's poetic taste indeed--contemporary critics also start to interpret this consummate weaver as a prototype for artistic representation. The tapestry as text(ile) especially attracts feminists, poststructuralists, and postmodernists.

The first painting here was finished by Hunt between 1889 and 1892; it was actually his last major painting recorded. Due to Hunt's failing eyesight, he completed this painting with the help of an assistant. Noticeably, this ornate painting--beyond its iridescent colors--abounds with symbolism. Here the bare-footed Lady of Shalott poses like a deity, her red hair twitching as vigorously as that of the serpentine Medusa. While one critic comments that she is almost hanged by her unrestrained lock--a foreshowing of her later suicide--I am inclined to interpret the hair as an emblem of her creative power. Engrossed in her tapestry, the Lady of Shalott observes her work with a critical eye, her right hand holding the needle which will eventually turn threads into tours de force. Outdoors the field is sunny and serene; indoors she is perfectly in harmony with her medieval setting. Apparently, what Hunt had in mind is an ingenious artist, not a forlorn lover.

While Hunt depicted an artist in full bloom, Waterhouse in 1888 created a damsel withering with unrequited love. In stark contrast to Hunt's portrayal, here the Lady of Shalott has sailed out in pursuit of her knight, Sir Lancelot. A lady in white, she is wrought with throes of love, her face languid with sorrow. The tapestry is abandoned, and the artist becomes a martyr. Alone in the swamp, this Lady of Shalott is drifting on her ebony barge, which later becomes her coffin. In contrast to her previous secure palace, here the wilderness generates a sense of macabre Gothic. While the tone may be still romantic, it is tinged with impending death.

With the artist-martyr dyad, literary critics today are interested in the female representations of this Lady of Shalott. In Atwood's Lady Oracle, for example, the Costume Gothic writer Joan Foster mentions this allusion: "I wanted castles and princesses, the Lady of Shalott floating down a winding river in a boat." Noticeably, here Atwood is critiquing the fantasy of "damsel in distress." As the novel unfolds, Arthur--Joan's rescuer and husband--turns out to be a demon lover. What seems good on the surface may be sinister underneath.