She's Come Undone:
Robert Herrick on Sex and Art
by Jenny (Walicek) Clendenen
San Jose State University, 2004
In Robert Herrick’s poem “Delight in Disorder” the speaker, presumably a man with a sharp eye for design and detail, describes the minute imperfections in feminine attire which bring him pleasure. By linking contrasting words and images, and choosing verbs that connote arousal, he conveys his attraction to the contrast between the decorous and the disheveled well before his confession in the final couplet. He would seem to be addressing women who were too proper for his satisfaction, but a close examination of the structure of this poem reveals that he was also sending a message to artists about the aesthetics and passion of art.
The “loosen up” message, regardless of its audience, is effectively conveyed by the poet’s constant juxtaposition of opposites. It is not sloppiness itself that appeals to him, but the raw and the refined rubbing up against each other. Each word in the phrases “sweet disorder,” “fine distraction,” and “wilde civility” balances and enhances the appeal of the other, so that the refined qualities are invigorated, and the unrefined are tamed, by their partners. Even where opposites are not immediately juxtaposed, the same effect is achieved by assigning an unrefined aspect to each refined article of clothing. Working in descending order from head to toe, he applies “disorder” to “dresse,” “wantonnesse” to “cloathes,” “distraction” to a “lawne” (fine linen) about the shoulders, “neglectfull” to a “Cuffe,” “confusedly” to “ribbands”, “tempestuous” to “petticote,” and “carelesse” to “shooe-string.” The linguistic tension between each of these descriptive words and their nouns represents the sexuality implicit in disordered attire.
The poet’s four chosen verbs, too, imply that raw, elemental forces are at work beneath the restraint. “Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse,” for instance, invokes the image of a fire being stoked beneath the formal clothes – of an elemental force rousing one to a state of wantonnesse, or lust; similarly, “Thrown / Into a fine distraction” connotes a physical force that flusters mental concentration. “Ribbands [ribbons] to flow confusedly” imparts the idea of rivers running off course or overflowing, and “Enthralls the crimson stomacher” sounds remarkably like “butterflies in the stomach.” These images indicate that the speaker is inflamed, distracted, off course, and enthralled -- an idea confirmed when he declares, in the final couplet, that these disorders of dress “bewitch” him. What is undone about a woman’s clothing tends to leave him undone.
The structure of the poem, likewise, seems undone. At first glance, the poem’s fourteen lines and iambic opening would indicate that it is a sonnet. However, a closer look quickly reveals discrepancies in its formal elements. It is not consistently iambic; trochaic lines are interspersed at irregular intervals. The meter is not pentametric but tetrametric -- there are only four feet, or eight syllables, per line. There is no volta, or turning point. In fact, precisely where we would expect to see one, we find instead the significant phrase “A cuffe [turn] neglectful;” the volta has been purposely omitted. The rhyming couplets that comprise the entire poem conform neither to the English sonnet’s ABAB pattern nor to the Italian sonnet’s ABBA pattern. Although the use of couplets plays to the overt idea that this poem is about sexuality, with so many of its formal elements in disorder, this would-be sonnet also seems to be making a statement about the appeal of the informal in art. Its very form promotes a more natural aesthetic.
The poet’s use of a deviant form indicates a rebellion against the restraints of formality not only in art but in femininity as well. And, although there is no woman in this poem -- only her clothes and the speaker’s reaction to them -- by using conflicting language and forceful verbs to describe disorder and arousal, he is invoking the foundational issue of passion. Art and sex, both exemplified here by feminine attire, are creative acts that require and produce passion; perfect propriety and perfunctory performances diminish the experience. When clothing or paint or poetic structures stifle evidence of that essential passion, beauty is compromised.
Robert Herrick’s disordered, delightful poem has not been compromised.
San Jose State University, 2004
In Robert Herrick’s poem “Delight in Disorder” the speaker, presumably a man with a sharp eye for design and detail, describes the minute imperfections in feminine attire which bring him pleasure. By linking contrasting words and images, and choosing verbs that connote arousal, he conveys his attraction to the contrast between the decorous and the disheveled well before his confession in the final couplet. He would seem to be addressing women who were too proper for his satisfaction, but a close examination of the structure of this poem reveals that he was also sending a message to artists about the aesthetics and passion of art.
The “loosen up” message, regardless of its audience, is effectively conveyed by the poet’s constant juxtaposition of opposites. It is not sloppiness itself that appeals to him, but the raw and the refined rubbing up against each other. Each word in the phrases “sweet disorder,” “fine distraction,” and “wilde civility” balances and enhances the appeal of the other, so that the refined qualities are invigorated, and the unrefined are tamed, by their partners. Even where opposites are not immediately juxtaposed, the same effect is achieved by assigning an unrefined aspect to each refined article of clothing. Working in descending order from head to toe, he applies “disorder” to “dresse,” “wantonnesse” to “cloathes,” “distraction” to a “lawne” (fine linen) about the shoulders, “neglectfull” to a “Cuffe,” “confusedly” to “ribbands”, “tempestuous” to “petticote,” and “carelesse” to “shooe-string.” The linguistic tension between each of these descriptive words and their nouns represents the sexuality implicit in disordered attire.
The poet’s four chosen verbs, too, imply that raw, elemental forces are at work beneath the restraint. “Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse,” for instance, invokes the image of a fire being stoked beneath the formal clothes – of an elemental force rousing one to a state of wantonnesse, or lust; similarly, “Thrown / Into a fine distraction” connotes a physical force that flusters mental concentration. “Ribbands [ribbons] to flow confusedly” imparts the idea of rivers running off course or overflowing, and “Enthralls the crimson stomacher” sounds remarkably like “butterflies in the stomach.” These images indicate that the speaker is inflamed, distracted, off course, and enthralled -- an idea confirmed when he declares, in the final couplet, that these disorders of dress “bewitch” him. What is undone about a woman’s clothing tends to leave him undone.
The structure of the poem, likewise, seems undone. At first glance, the poem’s fourteen lines and iambic opening would indicate that it is a sonnet. However, a closer look quickly reveals discrepancies in its formal elements. It is not consistently iambic; trochaic lines are interspersed at irregular intervals. The meter is not pentametric but tetrametric -- there are only four feet, or eight syllables, per line. There is no volta, or turning point. In fact, precisely where we would expect to see one, we find instead the significant phrase “A cuffe [turn] neglectful;” the volta has been purposely omitted. The rhyming couplets that comprise the entire poem conform neither to the English sonnet’s ABAB pattern nor to the Italian sonnet’s ABBA pattern. Although the use of couplets plays to the overt idea that this poem is about sexuality, with so many of its formal elements in disorder, this would-be sonnet also seems to be making a statement about the appeal of the informal in art. Its very form promotes a more natural aesthetic.
The poet’s use of a deviant form indicates a rebellion against the restraints of formality not only in art but in femininity as well. And, although there is no woman in this poem -- only her clothes and the speaker’s reaction to them -- by using conflicting language and forceful verbs to describe disorder and arousal, he is invoking the foundational issue of passion. Art and sex, both exemplified here by feminine attire, are creative acts that require and produce passion; perfect propriety and perfunctory performances diminish the experience. When clothing or paint or poetic structures stifle evidence of that essential passion, beauty is compromised.
Robert Herrick’s disordered, delightful poem has not been compromised.