Madness of Ozymandias

Literary analysis for my English 101 class on the poem Ozymandias by Percey Bysshe Shelley, and on the madness of which it speaks.

 

Madness in Ozymandias

                The word “madness” is used in a variety of contexts.  It is a word used often throughout literature, entertainment, media, religions, politics, and the everyday life of ordinary people.  The working definition to which I am alluding is a simple one.  A madman is a person who has a significant gap between their perception of reality and the actuality of reality’s state.  The poem Ozymandias by Percey Bysshe Shelley alludes to that very definition being applied to an ancient and forgotten king, making for a lightly satirical read at the cost of the mad king.

                The poem is spoken from the perspective of an unknown person, retelling a tale that “a traveler from an antique land” (line 1) relates to our narrator of an interesting sight he observed while traversing the world.  While walking through a desert, the traveler sees the ruins of a statue, including two legs without a body, but with a head nearby (lines 2-8).  The head is described as having a “wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command” (line 5), displaying a man with some sort of arrogance, at the least.  The ex-statue’s subject, revealed later to be a king by the name of Ozymandias, must have had power, for the monuments that mankind raises are generally commemorating a person of great significance.  Perhaps he was a tyrant, to have been commemorated with such a visage as the statue displayed.  History is riddled with ancient civilizations having kings who, though tyrannical in rule, were conquerors.  That would certainly fit the assumption that the traveler makes of the subject “well those passions read/Which yet survive…” (lines 6-7). War has never completely disappeared, and indeed brings honor in victory or despair in defeat to the nations that it serves.  To know such a volatile art form as war was a necessity to the ancient kings, as they were also the generals of their armies.  The only things to have changed since the warfare of our predecessors are the delegation of military might underneath governmental legislations that handle them indirectly, and the means by which war is waged, ranging from weapons to tactics.

                The suspicions of the subject’s warlike nature are affirmed in the poem in lines 9-11, on a pedestal at the feet of the once-mighty man’s effigy.  Proudly, the figure from the past declares: “My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;/Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!” (lines 10-11).  This man proclaimed himself to be all-powerful upon the world.  None can feel safe in putting forth such a haughty claim but a subjugator of nations and man of the sword.  To make the arrogance of the man even more potent, Shelley uses the phrase “King of Kings” (line 10), quoted directly from scripture in Revelation 19:16, referring to the second coming of Messiah, not as a healer this time, but as a conqueror.  By using this, at the time of the writing of the poem, commonly known verse from the Bible, it is inferred that Ozymandias might have believed himself some sort of deity, for who can be king over a king, other than a god?  This is not entirely surprising however, for history holds countless examples of rulers declaring that they themselves were gods.  Two prime examples of such a situation spring to mind, those of the Roman Caesar Nero, and the Persian conqueror and emperor Xerxes.  Along with Ozymandias, they believed that their accomplishments would live on forever, and that the world would forever remember them as the indomitable deities they believed they were.  Indeed, the pedestal upon which the “great” Ozymandias of stone once stood, the king tries to cow any who might look upon him, by commanding that those who would look to conqueror his empire with covetous eyes or wish to destroy his legacy to despair when they looked upon everything that he had done in his lifetime (line 11).  This confident declaration found upon the pedestal acts as the climax for the poem, so powerful is the verbiage used therein.  However, the moment that the awe-struck viewer looks around, past the words and to the surroundings, the words meant to strike terror into the hearts of men even of warlike nature fizzle out like a candle’s flame in the softest breeze.

                Here we come to see the madness and indeed, folly, of the figure Ozymandias.  Naught but desert remains, and the statue is crumbled.  The final three lines of the poem illustrate this fact and might bring a chuckle from the reader.  Despite all of his power and might in life, nobody recalls this man.  All that remains of his legacy is a desert wasteland; though he might have been able to fend off enemies from his borders with ease, his kingdom and memory were overtaken by mere sand.  It is madness to believe that we, as insignificant creatures, will not be remembered for very long after we have passed on.  Our deeds, our works, those mementos of our lives that meant so much to us, crumble away.  Despite what we may do to alter the course of the world as a whole, no fruition will come of our efforts.  However, this should not be viewed as an altogether dismal outlook, but rather a sobering idea.  Confidence is a virtue, but arrogance is not.  Keeping the monument to Ozymandias in mind should prove a sobering thought that can maintain a solid, balanced perspective on our deeds.  Nero and Xerxes were mentioned earlier as compatriots of the mentality Ozymandias had, and because of their madness they are either remembered with scorn and loathing, or not remembered at all.  Nero is regarded as one of the worst leaders in history, and some rank him among the most evil men.  Xerxes’ powerful empire is completely dissipated and now is scattered as many nations; he himself is an afterthought, and looked at as a fool for believing in his own divinity.  Ozymandias, as the poem showed, was utterly forgotten.  To put too much emphasis upon leaving a legacy that will be remembered for all time means that one must sacrifice actually living, and life soon holds no meaning for such a mentality.

                The poem Ozymandias teaches a great lesson through the ruins of a forgotten king, displaying his madness to keep others in check.  Civilizations rise and fall, kings come and go, and humanity looks forward more often than back to its past, seeking development and the future.  Indeed, it is true that in our lifetimes we may be great, but in the words of Qui-Gon Jinn in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, “there’s always a bigger fish.”

Reviews

[Mark]

You raise some interesting points in this reflection John. I have not read the poem in many years, but I can easily see Shelly making just such observations as you have. If a man sought less to ensure his name in perpetuity, and invested less of his assets in that effort, and instead spent the bulk of his time and energies on being good, and helpful, and wise and Godly, his impression in history, though not graven in stone, will be more certainly positive. To go even one step farther, his impression IN ETERNITY will be more likely guaranteed if his efforts are directed to the latter class of efforts than the former. A few minor edits I'd like to see: Percy has no second "E"; "those who would look to CONQUER his empire"; if you reference the last three lines of the poem in your essay, you should quote them, and, I would omit the reference to Qui-gon Jinn, as unequal in depth to the scope of your essay; surely there's an ACTUAL person who said something similar whom you might quote?