The Jarring Tonal Switch in La Belle Dame sans Merci

There are many Romantic-era poems about forlorn artists pining after subjects that will never return their affections. What makes this one unusual, however, is the drastic juxtaposition of tones. Most of the romantic eulogies I’ve read have been fairly consistent in their mood. Either it is the despondent wailings of some victim of unrequited love or the hungry adulations of some seductive ode throughout. Either there is nothing but despair, or the subject of affection inspires the writer completely and by virtue of being their glorious selves, can do no wrong.

The lyrical, smitten descriptions of a man utterly taken by a love interest are sandwiched between two far more depressing segments. The poem takes on a sort of novel narrative format, with the discovery of a character at the end of some tale, following with the changing of the narrative voice and a telling of the events leading up to that moment.

The irregularity of this, paired with the un-emphasized segues between narrators (“And on they cheek a fading rose” moves right into the lovesick man’s answer “I met a lady in the meads”) makes a rereading even more helpful.

Once these things are distinguished, the drastic difference between the start of the poem (“what can ail thee, wretched wight,/ So haggard and so woe-begone?”), the middle of the poem (“I met a Lady in the meads/ Full beautiful, a fairy’s child”) and again the end of the poem (“And this is why I sojourn here/Alone and paley loitering”) still stands out.

It is a striking first-person reminder that the most wonderful and unambiguous of romantic feelings can end up being cause for discomfort and misery, rather than just a constant source of indulgent pain or inspiration. An odd, bitter realism is brought into play when a poem is willing to address both functions of romance in the same work, and to such extremes. Though the undertones of the poem suggest perhaps a sense of entitlement to the lady in question, if this is bypassed, it can be read as an unusually insightful cautionary story regarding presumptuous love.