The Fifth Desk · Evaluation
Act I · The Map
Walter Pater · Studies in Art and Poetry · Macmillan, 1893 · scored as the fourth edition, the last Pater saw through the press, read from knowledge; no text in hand, and English quoted only where its words are certain
Mode
Criticism as literature: the essay as portrait, a figure, a temper or a single impression drawn out in prose
Mythos
The pagan gods in exile and returning in disguise; La Gioconda as the sum of the ages; the Hellenic man born late; the Heraclitean flux and the flame
Phase
Victorian Oxford: essays first printed in periodicals from 1867, gathered in 1873, revised in 1877, 1888 and 1893; in the wake of Ruskin and Arnold, and beside Swinburne
Presentation
Prose; a Preface, eight studies, an essay on Winckelmann and a Conclusion, ordered by the chronology of their subjects
Register
Long periodic sentences, qualified and cadenced; precise and sensuous diction; at its heights a hushed and melancholy transport
Scale
Ten pieces spanning six centuries of European art and letters, held in one sensibility
Governing Proposition
A book of essays on painters, poets and scholars, from the tales of twelfth-century France to an eighteenth-century German, framed by a Preface that makes the critic’s own impression the ground of judgement and a Conclusion that makes the intensity of the moment the end of life. Its wager is that the Renaissance is a temper and not a period, a love of the things of the senses and of the intellect that recurs wherever it breaks out, and that criticism written in prose of sufficient care can be at once the instrument and the evidence of that temper.
Act II · The Essay
Movement I
The book first appeared from Macmillan in 1873 as Studies in the History of the Renaissance, gathered from essays Pater had printed in periodicals from 1867, the earliest of them “Winckelmann”, in the Westminster Review. The second edition, of 1877, took the present title, The Renaissance: Studies in Art and Poetry, and dropped the Conclusion. The third, of 1888, restored it, lightly revised, with a footnote explaining its withdrawal, and added “The School of Giorgione”. The fourth, of 1893, the last Pater saw through the press before his death in 1894, is the text weighed here: a Preface, eight studies, “Winckelmann” and the Conclusion.
The Preface sets the method by taking a sentence of Arnold’s and inverting it. The critic’s first object is his own impression: “to know one’s own impression as it really is, to discriminate it, to realise it distinctly”, and to find in each work its virtue. The subjectivity of judgement becomes a principle, and the prose that follows enacts the method rather than applying it: the sentences trail their qualifications as the impression trails its changes.
The first study goes back to the tales of twelfth-century France, Amis and Amile and Aucassin and Nicolette, with Tannhäuser evoked beside them, and finds the Renaissance already there. The choice is the argument: the Renaissance is a temper, an outbreak of the human spirit and its love of the things of the senses and of the intellect, and not a period with dates. The friendship of Amis and Amile carries, under a veil, the desire the book will return to in Winckelmann.
Movement II
In the study of Pico della Mirandola the pagan gods survive the coming of Christianity in disguise, the gods of Greece in exile that Pater takes from Heine, and Pico’s philosophy is read as an attempt to reconcile them with the faith. That reconciliation is the book’s long negotiation of the sacred, and it runs on through Botticelli and Michelangelo to its last figure in Winckelmann.
Botticelli is the study in which Pater’s seeing most plainly becomes his own. The Venus gives one of the book’s lesser heights, and the Madonnas carry on the negotiation of the pagan with the Christian; the reading is partly projection. It is also a reading with consequences outside literature: the Botticelli revival in art history is part of the book’s reach.
“Luca della Robbia” and “The Poetry of Michelangelo” turn to sculpture and relief. The della Robbia study restates the Michelangelo study’s argument in a thinner key, and both run long in a level, connoisseurial manner. Here the book is at its slowest, and the essay that could go with least loss stands in the middle of it.
Movement III
The Leonardo study takes much of its history on trust from Vasari, and the scholarship was careless by the standards of its day. What it is remembered for is a page on La Gioconda, and the page is the book’s summit: “She is older than the rocks among which she sits; like the vampire, she has been dead many times, and learned the secrets of the grave”. The sentence turns on the particular face, in which “the eyelids are a little weary”.
Around that face Pater sums the ages. Leda and Saint Anne, the lust of Rome and the mysticism of the middle age, the ends of the world, are gathered on one head; the femme fatale and the eternal feminine become a single image. The myth is built, not evoked, and built so strongly that it passed into the culture as Pater’s, not Leonardo’s: the cult of the Mona Lisa owes much to this page.
In 1936 Yeats set the passage out as free verse at the head of his Oxford Book of Modern Verse, so that a page of Victorian criticism opened an anthology of modern poetry. That is the reach of the book in one gesture, and also its limit: the influence travelled chiefly through this page and one sentence of the Conclusion.
Movement IV
“The School of Giorgione”, added in 1888, makes the book’s claim about form: “All art constantly aspires towards the condition of music”. The sentence is a claim about form and matter, and with it goes the Anders-streben, the study’s word for one art’s reaching towards the condition of another. The Dionysian is evoked here, as Heraclitus is evoked in the Conclusion: summoned, not built.
The claim uncovers something true of form and matter in every art, and it is one of the book’s disclosures that has outlived its occasion. The attributions are another matter. Many of the pictures Pater gives to Giorgione’s school were already disputed, and many are now given to Titian and others; this connoisseurship is fixed to the knowledge of the 1860s.
“Joachim du Bellay” carries the thesis into sixteenth-century France. It adds little the French stories and the Preface had not set out, and with the della Robbia it is the study the book could most nearly lose. What it does is bring the book back to France, where its first study began.
Movement V
“Winckelmann”, the earliest written of the pieces, stands last among the studies, where history puts it. The German scholar of the eighteenth century is the Hellenic man born late, the Renaissance temper surviving into the eighteenth century; he handles the pagan marbles with “unsinged hands”, and his conversion is part of the book’s negotiation of the pagan and the Christian. Readings of Victorian Hellenism and of same-sex desire have found this study central.
The Conclusion generalises the law from history to the conduct of a life. Through the Heraclitean flux it dissolves the object into impressions and the self into their passing, and it draws the consequence: “Not the fruit of experience, but experience itself, is the end”. Its last pages rise to the sentence on the flame, “To burn always with this hard, gem-like flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life”, and end on a turn to the moments for their own sake.
The Conclusion was read at Oxford as a counsel of hedonism to the young. Pater was attacked from the pulpit and satirised as Mr Rose in Mallock’s The New Republic (1877); he dropped the Conclusion that year and restored it in 1888 with a footnote saying, in substance, that he had feared it might mislead. Wilde built “The Critic as Artist” and The Picture of Dorian Gray on it, Joyce’s epiphanies descend from it, and Eliot’s “Arnold and Pater” (1930) attacked it, a measure of the pressure still felt half a century on.
Act III · The Twelve
Ask what could be removed from a book gathered out of periodical essays, and it gives two answers. “Luca della Robbia” could go with small loss: it restates the Michelangelo study’s argument about sculpture and relief in a thinner key. “Joachim du Bellay” carries the thesis into France but adds little that the French stories and the Preface have not set out. Against that the frame is strongly required. The Preface sets the method, the Conclusion says what the method is for, and the span from the tales of twelfth-century France to an eighteenth-century German is itself the argument that the Renaissance is a temper and not a period. That span needs both its ends, and has them; inside the best studies the sentences resist cutting. What holds the axis low is that Pater himself treated a part as removable, withdrawing the Conclusion in 1877 and restoring it in 1888.
Score: 7.6 / 10
What the book brings into the open is a condition and not only a mood: the modern mind after the loss of a fixed object, for which experience is a passing of impressions within the single mind, and the self a flux of them. “Not the fruit of experience, but experience itself, is the end”: that is a position that can be held and argued with, and Victorian England argued with it. The Preface’s turn on Arnold makes the subjectivity of judgement a principle, and the Giorgione study uncovers something true of form and matter in every art. What holds the axis below the gate is that, as a history of the Renaissance, much of the book discloses Pater rather than its objects. Its attributions and its Botticelli are partly projection, and the ethics of the Conclusion are stated more than tested.
Score: 8.2 / 10
Height is real and is reached several times. The summit is the passage on La Gioconda, who is “older than the rocks among which she sits”, prose that Yeats set out as free verse at the head of his Oxford Book of Modern Verse in 1936. The Conclusion rises in its last pages, through the Heraclitean flux, to the sentence on the flame. The Botticelli Venus, Winckelmann among the pagan marbles and Pico’s gods of Greece in exile give lesser heights. Frequency is the charge. Long stretches of the Michelangelo, della Robbia and du Bellay studies are level, connoisseurial and slow, and the elevation, when it comes, is of one kind: a hushed and melancholy transport, never grandeur or terror.
Score: 8.0 / 10
The book builds one myth and evokes several. Built: La Gioconda as the figure in whom all the ages are summed, Leda and Saint Anne, the lust of Rome and the mysticism of the middle age gathered on one head; the femme fatale and the eternal feminine made a single image so strongly that it passed into the culture as Pater’s rather than Leonardo’s. Built also, across the whole: the Renaissance as the return of the pagan gods, exiled and surviving in disguise, reconciled with Christianity in Pico, Botticelli and Michelangelo, and embodied at last in Winckelmann as the Hellenic man born late. Evoked rather than built: Heraclitus in the Conclusion, the Dionysian in Giorgione, Tannhäuser in the French stories. What holds the axis below the gate is that this is a critic’s mythmaking, laid over other men’s images: its load is real in the Leonardo and Winckelmann studies and light elsewhere.
Score: 7.8 / 10
The turn is from the moral and religious criticism of Ruskin and the objective standard of Arnold to a criticism whose ground is the critic’s own sensation and whose end is the quality of the moment. Pater took Arnold’s sentence and inverted it; he took Ruskin’s subject, Italian art, and stripped it of Ruskin’s ethics. The stake was real and was paid. The Conclusion was read at Oxford as a counsel of hedonism to undergraduates, Pater was attacked from the pulpit and satirised as Mr Rose in Mallock’s The New Republic (1877), and he withdrew the Conclusion for eleven years. What holds the axis a tenth short of the gate is precedent: Gautier and the French doctrine of art for art’s sake, Baudelaire, and Swinburne’s notes on the Florentine drawings (1868) had gone part of the way, and the Hegelian scheme of the Renaissance is borrowed.
Score: 8.4 / 10
The form is the essay as portrait: a figure, a temper, a single impression drawn out in long, qualified, cadenced sentences that hold a perception without closing it. The method of the Preface, to discriminate the impression and find its virtue, is enacted in the prose rather than applied by it. The sentences trail their qualifications as the impression trails its changes, and the Conclusion’s argument about the flux is carried in a syntax that will not settle. Put the same content into a treatise or a history and it can no longer say what it says: that the critic’s sensibility is the instrument and the evidence at once. The charge falls on the book as a whole, a sequence of occasional essays given a frame and ordered by the chronology of its subjects rather than shaped as an argument; the Winckelmann study, the earliest written, sits where history puts it, though its place before the Conclusion works.
Score: 8.2 / 10
The evidence of return runs for a century and a half: Wilde’s generation; then Yeats; then the modernists who read Pater in order to refuse him, Eliot in “Arnold and Pater” (1930); then the critical revival from the 1960s, with Harold Bloom’s claim of Pater as a hidden ancestor of modern poetry, and the readings of Victorian Hellenism and same-sex desire that find the Winckelmann study central. Each age has found a different book: a manifesto of aestheticism, a forerunner of the epiphany and the moment of being, a coded text of desire, a theory of perception. What holds the axis at 8.0 is that the yield is concentrated in the frame and three studies. The middle essays are returned to little, the historical judgements have been exhausted rather than deepened by return, and the depth is more of temper than of argument.
Score: 8.0 / 10
The field is English prose and criticism of the nineteenth century, and the poetry and fiction that took their aesthetics from it. The intrinsic force is high: the book reorganised what English criticism could be for, from judgement of the object to the cultivation of the subject, and gave the aesthetic movement its scripture. Achieved reach is scored with intrinsic force: Wilde, who in De Profundis named it in substance as a book that had shaped his life, and whose “The Critic as Artist” and The Picture of Dorian Gray are built on its Conclusion; Gerard Manley Hopkins, Pater’s pupil; Yeats; Joyce, whose epiphanies and Stephen Dedalus’s aesthetics descend from the moment and the flame; Virginia Woolf’s moments of being; Wallace Stevens; and in art history the Botticelli revival and the cult of the Mona Lisa. Eliot’s attack in 1930 measures the pressure still felt. The discount: its claims on art history were superseded, and the influence travelled chiefly through one page and one sentence.
Score: 8.6 / 10
The highest of the twelve. A hundred and fifty-three years since 1873 are weighed as such. The text survives whole, in four editions Pater made, continuously in print, edited critically and kept in the standard series. Presence is the charge. The book is read now mainly in the academy and in anthologies, and outside them chiefly as the Mona Lisa passage and the Conclusion. Its connoisseurship, the Giorgione attributions above all, many of them now given to Titian and others, is fixed to the knowledge of the 1860s, and its manner was long a byword for preciousness after Eliot. The surface is partly of its moment, the aesthetic movement of the 1870s to the 1890s, though the Conclusion has outlived that moment. These charges hold the axis a tenth under the figure its span would otherwise carry.
Score: 8.9 / 10
Command of English prose is the book’s first claim, and it is high: the long periodic sentence balanced on its qualifications, the cadence that slows at the point of perception, the precise sensuous diction of a “hard, gem-like flame”, and the last paragraph of the Conclusion built to a single sentence and a final turn to the moments for their own sake. The making is load-bearing: the effect is the argument. The charges are three. The manner is uniform across subjects and at times precious; the qualifications multiply past need in the weaker studies; and the scholarship is careless by the standards of its own day, with Vasari taken on trust in the Leonardo and attributions in the Giorgione that were already disputed. Across the book the structure is that of a gathering, not a design.
Score: 8.5 / 10
Take the two most distant elements: the medieval French tales of Amis and Amile and of Aucassin and Nicolette at the start, and the eighteenth-century German scholar Winckelmann, with the Conclusion’s physiology of perception after him. One law governs both: the Renaissance as an outbreak of the human spirit, its love of the things of the senses and of the intellect, recurring wherever that temper appears and read through the impression it makes on one sensibility. The Preface announces the law, every study obeys it, and the Conclusion carries it from history to the conduct of a life. The range is wide in time and medium, romance, philosophy, painting, sculpture, poetry and scholarship, and the voice does not alter across it. What holds the axis at 8.3 is that the coherence is partly the uniformity of the manner, and the law a temper rather than a structure, held more firmly in the frame than in the middle studies.
Score: 8.3 / 10
The lowest of the twelve. The orders held are real and are held together under one temper: consciousness and perception, made the ground of the whole; art across its media; history, as the passage from the medieval to the modern; the sacred, in the long negotiation of paganism with Christianity through Pico, Botticelli’s Madonnas, Michelangelo and Winckelmann’s conversion; and desire, under a veil, in the friendship of Amis and Amile and in Winckelmann. What holds the axis there is what is absent or thin: labour, the state and the family, and the natural order except as light and landscape in painting. Politics and the economy of patronage are almost wholly missing from a book about Florence and Rome. The world encompassed is the inner life of a cultivated observer before works of art.
Score: 7.2 / 10
Act IV · The Reckoning
8.1 / 10 · Final Average
Placement: Tier IV · Canonical
Strongest Dimensions
The Imperishable at 8.9, then Pressure on Tradition at 8.6 and The Made at 8.5. A text whole and in print for a hundred and fifty-three years; a book that reorganised what English criticism could be for and gave the aesthetic movement its scripture, with a reach through Wilde, Hopkins, Yeats, Joyce and Woolf; and a prose whose control of the long sentence is of the first rank and carries the argument.
Limiting Dimension
The Encompassed at 7.2, then The Inevitable at 7.6 and The Archetypal Deep at 7.8. The world held is the inner life of a cultivated observer before works of art, with labour, the state, the family and the economy of patronage almost wholly absent; the book is a gathering from which two studies could go with small loss; and its myth, though built in the Leonardo and Winckelmann studies, is a critic’s mythmaking laid over other men’s images.
The Necessity Cap clears at 7.6 against a threshold of 7.5, narrowly, two of the studies standing removable at small loss. The Coherence Floor clears: The Made at 8.5, The Inner Law at 8.3, The Living Form at 8.2, each against 7.0. The Epochal Gate is unmet: The Imperishable at 8.9 and Pressure on Tradition at 8.6 clear the bar of 8.5, but The Swerve at 8.4 falls a tenth short, a turn from Ruskin and Arnold that Gautier, Baudelaire and Swinburne had prepared; The Unconcealment at 8.2 falls three tenths short, a disclosure of perception and the modern self that, as history, discloses Pater more than his objects; and The Archetypal Deep at 7.8 falls seven tenths short, a myth load-bearing in two studies and light elsewhere. The Universal Minimum is met (no axis it covers falls below The Inevitable at 7.6, against 7.5) and The Encompassed, which is exempted, clears its own floor of 6.0 at 7.2. The aggregate stands below 9.0 in any case, and the book is placed in the Canonical tier on its standing.
Basis · a reading from knowledge of Walter Pater’s The Renaissance: Studies in Art and Poetry, scored as the fourth edition (Macmillan, 1893), the last Pater saw through the press and the text modern editions follow. English is the original; no translation is in question. The book first appeared in 1873 as Studies in the History of the Renaissance; the second edition (1877) took the present title and dropped the Conclusion; the third (1888) restored the Conclusion, lightly revised, with a footnote explaining its withdrawal, and added “The School of Giorgione”. The 1893 text holds a Preface, eight studies (“Two Early French Stories”, “Pico della Mirandola”, “Sandro Botticelli”, “Luca della Robbia”, “The Poetry of Michelangelo”, “Leonardo da Vinci”, “The School of Giorgione”, “Joachim du Bellay”), “Winckelmann” and the Conclusion. Several studies were first printed in periodicals between 1867 and 1872, “Winckelmann” (Westminster Review, 1867) the earliest. No text was in hand; nothing was measured on a text, and no quotation was checked against a file. The Preface, the Leonardo, Giorgione, Botticelli, Pico and Winckelmann studies and the Conclusion are known closely; the French stories, the della Robbia and the du Bellay are argued from their structure and argument rather than their sentences. English is quoted only where the words are certain; the words of the 1888 footnote and Wilde’s words on the book in De Profundis are given in substance only. Matters that could not be verified, among them the origin of the Conclusion in an earlier review, the book’s length in words and the relative lengths of its studies, the circumstances of Pater’s Oxford career after 1873, the dates of later editions and selections by other hands, and a link through Pater’s family to Virginia Woolf, are not given.