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Brueghel's Icarus and W.H. Auden

2024

A re-consideration of W.H. Auden's poem Musée des Beaux-Arts about Brueghel's painting The Fall of Icarus.

Brueghel's Icarus and W.H.Auden Musée des Beaux-Arts is one of W.H. Auden's most famous poems. About suffering they were never wrong, The old Masters: how well they understood Its human position: how it takes place While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along; How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting For the miraculous birth, there always must be Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating On a pond at the edge of the wood: They never forgot That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse Scratches its innocent behind on a tree. In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry, But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green Water, and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky, Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on. Pieter Brueghel, The Fall of Icarus. Oiltempera, 29 inches x 44 inches. Museum of Fine Arts, Brussels. Brueghel's subject is the Greek legend of Daedalus and Icarus. Daedalus was the ingenious inventor who designed the maze in which the Cretan Minotaur was concealed. His name means "cunningly wrought". Because he helped Theseus escape from the maze, the Cretan king imprisoned Daedalus on the island. To escape, he made wings for himself and his son, Icarus, using feathers stuck together with wax. On the journey home, Icarus flew too high, and the sun's rays melted the wax of his wings, so that he plunged to his death in the ocean. The curious thing about Auden's poem, written in December 1938, is the extent to which it misrepresents the painting, which Auden refers to as “Breughel's Icarus” (a misspelling of the artist’s name). Its usual full title is Landscape with the Fall of Icarus. Icarus, in fact, hardly appears in it at all, except as a tiny pair of inverted legs, falling into the ocean in the lower right hand corner. The most prominent figure is that of a farmer ploughing in the foreground. Mundane reality is juxtaposed with supernatural mythology. We see a wide seascape, with a mountainous shore on the left, and a city on a promontory in the middle distance. On the horizon there are some icy mountains. There are several ships visible, the largest being a fine carrack, its sails billowing out, on the right hand side of the picture. While it is true that the figure of Icarus, who has fallen into the sea, is very small and needs to be looked for, it's not true that it attracts no attention from anybody. The ploughman in the foreground, it's true, plods on, looking only at his horse and the ground, but he is not "turning away quite leisurely from the disaster". He is concentrating on his work. He has no time to look upwards or behind him. His hat, like a helmet, fitting low over his eyes to shade him from the sun, has a strong resemblance to the blinkers on his horse, implying that they are both beasts of toil. It also covers his ears, very closely, so he is very unlikely to have "heard the splash, the forsaken cry". Nearby on the path overlooking the sea is a shepherd with a backpack. He has certainly not "turned away quite leisurely from the disaster." He has stopped in his tracks and is gazing upwards in amazement as if wondering if he can believe what he has just seen, and heard. He is leaning on his long staff, surrounded by his flock of sheep, and his dog. Meanwhile, there is a fisherman on the rocky shore in the lower right hand corner. Seen only from behind, wearing a white robe and a red cap, he is bending down and stretching forwards, with a rod in his right hand. We can just see that he is casting his line in the direction of the upside-down legs of Icarus, who is disappearing into the water. The fisherman has definitely not "turned away, quite leisurely, from the disaster". Could he possibly be casting the line in the hope of saving the plunging Icarus from drowning? We don't know. As well as the carrack there are many smaller boats, to say nothing of distant buildings, including a castle on a small island; many of the people there quite possibly got a glimpse of the strange sight. Auden writes of the "expensive, delicate ship that must have seen Something amazing". It is a terrible sentence. Actually, a ship can't see anything, though some sailors on it may have done. And far from being "delicate", the carrack is sturdy and solid. This is the type of ship that carried Christopher Columbus to America. The painting makes it clear that Icarus plummets into the water headlong from a great height, and there is nothing the sailors could have done to save him. The wind in their curving sails is carrying their vessel in the opposite direction. If you look at the size of the carrack and the size of the legs, it is plain that the ship is quite some way off. There are actually two versions of this painting (both now thought to be copies of a lost original) and the other one, which is in a different collection in Brussels, includes Daedalus, the father of Icarus. He is still aloft in the sky, hovering high above the sea, on the left of the picture, waving his golden wings like an eagle, and it is clear that the shepherd is gazing up at him. The version in the Musée David et Alice van Buuren, Brussels. "About suffering they were never wrong" is a somewhat lofty statement, implying that the speaker has a tremendous knowledge of art and culture, deep wisdom and, of course, a knowledge of suffering, as one does if born into the most privileged class of the most powerful empire on earth at the time, and being lucky enough to escape the First World War and dodge the Second. The painting is not really about suffering. It is about pride and presumption, the themes that the viewers of Brueghel's own time would have seen in the original myth. The ploughman, the shepherd and the fisherman stick to familiar modes of existence, however humble. They toil, and accept their lot. Icarus, too bold, wants to fly and soar higher than the ordained place of humankind in the creation. His rashness spells his doom. The poem professes a knowledge of human nature, which is assumed to be self-centered and apathetic. I suspect it is only the author projecting his own self-centredness and unconcern on the painting. He and his friends patronized the boy brothels of Berlin, for their amusement; then they hopped it across the Atlantic to avoid being conscripted in World War II. They led a thoroughly selfindulgent existence in America, giving parties with a bathtub full of bottles of champagne. They certainly had "somewhere else to go" and "turned away, quite leisurely, from the disaster." https://www.artinsociety.com/bruegels-icarus-and-the-perils-of-flight.html https://www.britannica.com/topic/Daedalus-Greek-mythology https://www.google.com/amp/s/amp.theguardian.com/theguardian/2001/jun/09/ weekend7.weekend3