Appearance
Excerpt
Excerpt from Life and Letters of Robert Browning, by Mrs. Sutherland Orr
Mrs. Browning seems now to have adopted the plan of writing independent
letters to her sister-in-law; and those available for our purpose are
especially interesting. The buoyancy of tone which has habitually
marked her communications, but which failed during the winter in Rome,
reasserts itself in the following extract. Her maternal comments on Peni
and his perfections have hitherto been so carefully excluded, that a
brief allusion to him may be allowed on the present occasion.
'My dearest Sarianna, . . . Here is Penini's letter, which takes up
so much room that I must be sparing of mine--and, by the way, if you
consider him improved in his writing, give the praise to Robert, who
has been taking most patient pains with him indeed. You will see how
the little curly head is turned with carnival doings. So gay a carnival
never was in our experience, for until last year (when we were absent)
all masks had been prohibited, and now everybody has eaten of the tree
of good and evil till not an apple is left. Peni persecuted me to let
him have a domino--with tears and embraces--he "almost never in all his
life had had a domino," and he would like it so. Not a black domino!
no--he hated black--but a blue domino, trimmed with pink! that was his
taste. The pink trimming I coaxed him out of, but for the rest, I let
him have his way. . . . For my part, the universal madness reached me
sitting by the fire (whence I had not stirred for three months), and you
will open your eyes when I tell you that I went (in domino and masked)
to the great opera-ball. Yes! I did, really. Robert, who had been
invited two or three times to other people's boxes, had proposed to
return their kindness by taking a box himself at the opera this night,
and entertaining two or three friends with galantine and champagne. Just
as he and I were lamenting the impossibility of my going, on that very
morning the wind changed, the air grew soft and mild, and he maintained
that I might and should go. There was no time to get a domino of my
own (Robert himself had a beautiful one made, and I am having it
metamorphosed into a black silk gown for myself!) so I sent out and
hired one, buying the mask. And very much amused I was. I like to see
these characteristic things. (I shall never rest, Sarianna, till I risk
my reputation at the 'bal de l'opera' at Paris). Do you think I was
satisfied with staying in the box? No, indeed. Down I went, and Robert
and I elbowed our way through the crowd to the remotest corner of
the ball below. Somebody smote me on the shoulder and cried "Bella
Mascherina!" and I answered as impudently as one feels under a mask.
At two o'clock in the morning, however, I had to give up and come away
(being overcome by the heavy air) and ingloriously left Robert and
our friends to follow at half-past four. Think of the refinement and
gentleness--yes, I must call it superiority of this people--when no
excess, no quarrelling, no rudeness nor coarseness can be observed in
the course of such wild masked liberty; not a touch of licence anywhere,
and perfect social equality! Our servant Ferdinando side by side in the
same ball-room with the Grand Duke, and no class's delicacy offended
against! For the Grand Duke went down into the ball-room for a short
time. . . .'
Explanation
Detailed Explanation of the Excerpt from Life and Letters of Robert Browning by Mrs. Sutherland Orr
This excerpt is a letter written by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (EBB) to her sister-in-law, Sarianna Browning, in 1857. It appears in Life and Letters of Robert Browning (1891), a posthumous collection of correspondence and biographical material compiled by Mrs. Sutherland Orr, a friend of the Brownings. The letter captures a lively, intimate moment in the Brownings’ life in Florence, Italy, where they had been living since 1846 after their secret marriage and Elizabeth’s escape from her domineering father.
The letter is particularly significant because it reflects Elizabeth’s renewed vitality after years of poor health (she had been a semi-invalid for much of her life before meeting Robert Browning). It also offers a glimpse into her motherly affection for her son, Penini (Wiedeman Barrett Browning, nicknamed "Pen"), her social observations of Italian carnival culture, and her playful, rebellious spirit—a stark contrast to the reclusive, melancholic woman of her earlier years.
Key Themes in the Excerpt
Joy and Rejuvenation
- The letter exudes buoyancy and excitement, a marked shift from Elizabeth’s earlier letters, which often described her frail health and depression. Here, she is actively participating in life, even venturing into a crowded opera ball—something unthinkable in her youth.
- The "universal madness" of carnival has infected even her, pulling her from her usual place by the fire (where she had been confined for three months). The sudden change in weather ("the wind changed, the air grew soft and mild") symbolizes her own personal rebirth.
Motherhood and Indulgence
- Elizabeth’s doting description of Penini (her only surviving child) reveals her tender, playful maternal side. She humorously recounts his dramatic pleading for a domino costume ("with tears and embraces"), his strong aesthetic preferences ("not a black domino! no—he hated black—but a blue domino, trimmed with pink!"), and her negotiation with him (she "coaxed him out of" the pink trimming).
- This is one of the few times her letters mention Penini in detail, as Mrs. Orr notes that such maternal comments were usually excluded from published correspondence, likely to maintain a more "serious" literary image of EBB.
Social and Cultural Observations
- Elizabeth is fascinated by Italian carnival traditions, which had been banned until the previous year (due to political unrest or moral restrictions). The lifting of the mask prohibition has led to a collective frenzy—she describes it as if everyone has "eaten of the tree of good and evil" (a biblical allusion to the loss of innocence and the embrace of pleasure).
- She praises Italian social grace, noting the lack of rudeness or excess despite the "wild masked liberty." The fact that a servant (Ferdinando) and the Grand Duke could share the same space without offense reflects her admiration for Italian egalitarianism (or at least the illusion of it during carnival).
Marital Playfulness and Partnership
- Elizabeth credits Robert Browning for improving Penini’s writing, showing their collaborative parenting.
- Her adventurous outing with Robert—sneaking into the opera ball in disguise—reveals their shared sense of fun and rebellion. The fact that she hired a domino (while Robert had a "beautiful" custom-made one) adds a humorous touch, as does her boldness in mingling with the crowd ("Somebody smote me on the shoulder and cried 'Bella Mascherina!'").
Defiance of Conventional Femininity
- Elizabeth’s unapologetic participation in the ball—despite her frail health—challenges Victorian expectations of women (especially sickly, "delicate" women like her).
- Her desire to attend the Paris Opera ball ("I shall never rest till I risk my reputation") suggests a willingness to flout social norms for the sake of experience.
- The mask symbolizes liberation—both from her illness and from societal constraints. Under its cover, she can be "impudent" and free.
Literary Devices and Stylistic Choices
Humorous Hyperbole & Exaggeration
- "So gay a carnival never was in our experience" – She exaggerates for comic effect, emphasizing the extravagance of the event.
- "I shall never rest... till I risk my reputation at the 'bal de l'opera' at Paris" – A playful overstatement of her rebellious ambitions.
Vivid Imagery & Sensory Details
- "the little curly head is turned with carnival doings" – A visual and emotional image of Penini’s excitement.
- "elbowed our way through the crowd" – A tactile, almost chaotic description of the ball.
- "heavy air" – Conveys the physical strain that eventually forces her to leave.
Biblical Allusion
- "everybody has eaten of the tree of good and evil till not an apple is left" – A Genesis reference (Adam and Eve’s fall), suggesting that carnival is a moral indulgence, a temporary suspension of rules.
Irony & Self-Deprecation
- "ingloriously left Robert and our friends to follow at half-past four" – She mocks her own weakness (having to leave early) while praising Robert’s stamina.
- "give the praise to Robert" – A modest deflection of credit, typical of her letters, but also a tribute to her husband’s patience.
Contrast & Juxtaposition
- Confinement vs. Freedom: She had been stuck by the fire for three months, yet now she’s dancing at a ball.
- Seriousness vs. Playfulness: The letter shifts between maternal tenderness, social commentary, and mischievous humor.
Significance of the Excerpt
Personal Significance for EBB
- This letter marks a high point in Elizabeth’s later life, where she is no longer defined by illness but by joy and curiosity.
- It shows her embracing motherhood, marriage, and social life—a far cry from the reclusive invalid of her youth.
Cultural & Historical Context
- The carnival in Florence was a politically charged event. The lifting of the mask ban (likely due to relaxed Austrian rule or Tuscan liberalization) symbolized social change.
- Elizabeth’s observations on class mixing reflect 19th-century tensions between aristocracy and commoners, even if carnival temporarily erased those divisions.
Literary & Feminist Reading
- The letter challenges Victorian gender norms. Elizabeth, a chronically ill woman, is not only attending a ball but reveling in it, defying expectations of female fragility.
- Her use of a mask can be read as a metaphor for female agency—under its cover, she can be bold, anonymous, and free.
Insight into the Brownings’ Marriage
- The playful dynamic between Elizabeth and Robert—his patience with Penini, their shared adventure—paints a warm, egalitarian partnership, rare for the time.
- Her acknowledgment of his efforts (with Penini’s writing, the domino) shows mutual respect and collaboration.
Conclusion: Why This Letter Matters
This excerpt is more than just a charming anecdote—it is a microcosm of Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s transformation. From a bedridden, oppressed woman in England, she becomes a vibrant, engaged expatriate in Italy, embracing motherhood, culture, and even mischief. The letter captures her intellectual curiosity, her love for her family, and her defiance of societal limits, all wrapped in witty, vivid prose.
It also humanizes her—often remembered as the serious poet of Sonnets from the Portuguese or the tragic figure of Aurora Leigh, here she is laughing, bargaining with her son, and sneaking into balls. In this moment, she is not just a literary icon, but a woman alive with joy.
Would you like any specific aspect explored further (e.g., the political context of carnival in 19th-century Italy, or a deeper feminist analysis)?