"Thus he that overruled I overswayed..." (On "Venus and Adonis")

Oof.

Where do I start?

"Venus and Adonis" is a VERY pretty poem. So pretty, in fact, that it was the most popular of all of Shakespeare's works during his actual lifetime.

I mean, it's about the goddess of love and the most beautiful boy in the world. How could it not be?

Well, it's sort of about them.

Maybe I'll start there. A history lesson. Okay.

First up, the poem was written while the theatres were shut down due to plague, coincidentally. Shakespeare had to turn to another way of making money.

So you know all of those theories out there about Shakespeare being gay? This poem is a central piece to them. "Venus and Adonis" is dedicated to Henry Wriothesley, the 3rd Earl of Southampton, who would have been about 18 years old at the time. It is thought that Southampton is also the youth featured in Shakespeare's sonnets, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

See, Southampton was a young noble sort-of orphan (he had a mother, but was a ward of the state due to his father's death,) whose fortune was tied up in an interesting dilemma: in order to receive his fortune, he had to marry by age 21, or else be fined a HUGE sum of money, something like five thousand pounds, basically enough to significantly damage his prospects forever.

But he REFUSED. Said it wasn't the woman they put forward to him, it was the concept of marriage altogether. And the result could ruin some of his family, so they pressed the issue, and he refused even more sternly.

Enter Shakespeare.

Somewhere around Southampton's 18th year, it is thought that someone hired the playwright (who would have been 28 by this point,) to write a poem to Southampton in order to attempt to convince him to marry. And it might have worked, had not Shakespeare seemingly fallen in love with the object of his inspiration and possibly put forth his own suit instead.

Which brings us to the poem. Here's the dedication. Some say it's not out of character for works of this time in its flowery nature; others say that in its singular uncertainty about the reception of the poem, it stands out for its honesty.

Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.* 

To the Right Honourable Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Titchfield. 

Right Honourable, 

I know not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your Lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burden, only if your Honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a godfather: and never after ear [plough] so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your Honourable survey, and your Honour to your heart’s content, which I wish may always answer your own wish, and the world’s hopeful expectation. 

Your Honour’s in all duty,
William Shakespeare.

And now to the poem. "Venus and Adonis" is worthy of a read on its own; it's not long (199 6-line stanzas,) so I'll spare you a detailed explication. What you need to know is that Venus, the goddess of love, plays the role of pursuer of Adonis, most beautiful boy in the world, who staunchly refuses her embrace, because he has better things to do, like...go hunt. The first half of the poem is highly erotically charged as Venus attempts everything in her power to seduce him, while Adonis remains pouty and uninterested:

"[He] blushed and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy—
She red and hot as coals of glowing fire,
He red for shame but frosty in desire." (33-36)

What's of particular interest here is the reversal of gender roles - Venus the hot-blooded pursuer who plucks Adonis off his horse and carries him under his arm, while Adonis blushes and wilts under her ardor. She begs him for kisses and he refuses, turning away, until night finally descends, and he grants her one kiss, which she then turns into a passionate riot of kisses, until he complains that she has taken advantage of him. 

So what does this have to do with Shakespeare and Southampton? In parts, the poem is a plea for Adonis, in his beauty, to couple with Venus in order to breed more like him, to duplicate his beauty so that it may not disappear with his death:

"Things growing to themselves are growth’s abuse;
Seeds spring from seeds, and beauty breedeth beauty;
Thou wast begot; to get, it is thy duty. 

'Upon the earth’s increase why shouldst thou feed,
Unless the earth with thy increase be fed?
By law of nature thou art bound to breed,
That thine may live when thou thyself art dead;
And so in spite of death thou dost survive,
In that thy likeness still is left alive.'" (166-174)

Here, then, is what Shakespeare's patrons paid him to do: beg Southampton to marry, to breed, to have children, and pass his estate along after his death.

For die Adonis does, and brutally (and erotically.) Venus fears the boar, and with good measure: the next morning, Adonis is gored to death in the groin (*AHEM*) and Venus admits that if she had been the boar, she would have done the same in her attempts to kiss him there (*DOUBLE AHEM*)

Do we know for sure that Shakespeare and Southampton were lovers, or even shared a special relationship beyond the norm? No, we can't know that. Beyond the mists of time, Shakespeare himself was an intently private man, and left no private correspondence behind for us to peruse, unlike many of his contemporaries. But his first round of sonnets, written around this same time, also feature his passionate love for a golden young man.**

Henry Wriothesley, 3rd Earl of Southampton, age 21, 1594.
By the incomparable Nicholas Hilliard.

*“Let the common man admire trash or vile things; may golden Apollo serve me full cups of Castalian waters.

**History lesson and the beauty of the poem aside, it is yet another example of a toxic trope, where the message is "just wear a woman down long enough, and she'll eventually cave in to your sexual advances." Remember that Shakespeare's works are both descriptive of their time and prescriptive for the times that come after them. In their popularity, they offer a model for how love "should" be. But we live in a time where we can question this, and the poem, as glittering as it is, left me a bit queasy with Venus's persistence in the light of rejection. No means no.