apple, quince, and plum

The other day, we discussed the connection drawn between oranges and women in Lord Byron's Don Juan - Canto I, and the fact that this association between women, fruit and temptation is hardly a new one.

This connection seems to continue, albeit in a slightly different vein, in John Keats' Eve of St. Agnes, where the feast of fruits and fruit-related foods that Porphyro lays out for Madeline echoes this tradition of associating fruit with temptation and the fall from virtue, especially for women. The attention Keats pays to the enumeration of the (importantly) exotic fruit -

With jellies soother than the creamy curd,
And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon;
Manna and dates, in argosy transferr'd
From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one,
From silken Samarcand to cedar'd Lebanon

is in keeping with the attention he pays to little things in other poems (like the setting in Ode to Psyche, for instance). Paying attention to the richness of the food, and the richness of the exotic words that describe it seems to be in keeping with Keats' style, with the reveling in language and vision (and getting carried away by it sometimes) that we see in the Odes. The richness and seductiveness of the food Keats describes also sets the scene provocatively for Madeline's seduction and it is important that an impressive spread of exotic "dainties" is a part of that seduction.

Interestingly, this passage of Eve of St. Agnes reminded me a great deal of another poem that Callie referenced in our discussion of Don Juan - Christina Rossetti's Goblin Market. Rossetti's poem, published in 1862, includes similar, though much longer passages describing fruit -

Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries-
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries -

(it keeps going, but you get the idea)

The fruit here again serves as a tool of seduction for the goblin men who prey on young girls - similar to Porphyro's seduction of Madeline, but more disturbing. As we noted in our class discussion, this trope of seductive fruit is hardly a new one - none of our Romantics is being innovative by drawing on it - but it's an old trope with staying power.