Appearance
Excerpt
Excerpt from The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table, by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Arrow-heads must be brought to a sharp point, and the guillotine-axe must
have a slanting edge. Something intensely human, narrow, and definate
pierces to the seat of our sensibilities more readily than huge
occurrences and catastrophes. A nail will pick a lock that defies
hatchet and hammer. “The Royal George” went down with all her crew, and
Cowper wrote an exquisitely simple poem about it; but the leaf which
holds it is smooth, while that which bears the lines on his mother’s
portrait is blistered with tears.
My telling these recollections sets me thinking of others of the same
kind which strike the imagination, especially when one is still young.
You remember the monument in Devizes market to the woman struck dead with
a lie in her mouth. I never saw that, but it is in the books. Here is
one I never heard mentioned;—if any of the “Note and Query” tribe can
tell the story, I hope they will. Where is this monument? I was riding
on an English stage-coach when we passed a handsome marble column (as I
remember it) of considerable size and pretensions.—What is that?—I
said.—That,—answered the coachman,—is the hangman’s pillar. Then he
told me how a man went out one night, many years ago, to steal sheep. He
caught one, tied its legs together, passed the rope over his head, and
started for home. In climbing a fence, the rope slipped, caught him by
the neck, and strangled him. Next morning he was found hanging dead on
one side of the fence and the sheep on the other; in memory whereof the
lord of the manor caused this monument to be erected as a warning to all
who love mutton better than virtue. I will send a copy of this record to
him or her who shall first set me right about this column and its
locality.
And telling over these old stories reminds me that I have something which
may interest architects and perhaps some other persons. I once ascended
the spire of Strasburg Cathedral, which is the highest, I think, in
Europe. It is a shaft of stone filigree-work, frightfully open, so that
the guide puts his arms behind you to keep you from falling. To climb it
is a noonday nightmare, and to think of having climbed it crisps all the
fifty-six joints of one’s twenty digits. While I was on it, “pinnacled
dim in the intense inane,” a strong wind was blowing, and I felt sure
that the spire was rocking. It swayed back and forward like a stalk of
rye or a cat-o’nine-tails (bulrush) with a bobolink on it. I mentioned
it to the guide, and he said that the spire did really swing back and
forward,—I think he said some feet.
Explanation
Oliver Wendell Holmes’s The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table (1858) is a collection of essays originally published in The Atlantic Monthly, blending wit, philosophy, and anecdote in the form of a fictional breakfast-table conversation led by the "Autocrat," a loquacious and opinionated narrator. The work reflects Holmes’s background as a physician, poet, and member of the Boston literary elite, embodying the 19th-century American fascination with conversation, morality, and the quirks of human nature. The excerpt provided explores themes of human scale in tragedy, the power of small details, memory, and the uncanny, using vivid storytelling and literary devices to illustrate how the particular often outweighs the grand in emotional impact.
Key Themes in the Excerpt
The Power of the Particular Over the Grand Holmes opens with a metaphorical claim: "Arrow-heads must be brought to a sharp point... A nail will pick a lock that defies hatchet and hammer." He argues that small, precise, and intensely human details affect us more deeply than vast catastrophes. The sinking of The Royal George (a famous 18th-century British warship that drowned 900 people) inspires Cowper’s poem, but the lines about his mother’s portrait—personal and intimate—are the ones that move readers to tears. This reflects Holmes’s broader interest in how individual stories resonate more than abstract tragedies, a theme central to Romantic and Victorian literature.
Morbid Curiosity and the Macabre The anecdotes about the "hangman’s pillar" and the woman "struck dead with a lie in her mouth" tap into a Gothic fascination with sudden, ironic deaths. The sheep thief’s demise—strangled by his own rope while stealing—is darkly humorous and morally instructive, echoing folk tales and cautionary legends. The monument’s existence (whether real or invented) underscores how human culture memorializes the bizarre and the tragic, often as warnings. Holmes’s tone is playful but also reflects a 19th-century preoccupation with memento mori (reminders of mortality).
Memory and Storytelling The Autocrat’s meandering style—"My telling these recollections sets me thinking of others"—mimics oral storytelling, where one tale sparks another. This mirrors the associative nature of memory and the Victorian parlor tradition of sharing anecdotes. The unresolved mystery of the "hangman’s pillar" (Holmes invites readers to investigate its locality) also engages the reader as a participant, a technique common in 19th-century periodicals to foster community.
The Sublime and Human Fragility The climb up Strasburg Cathedral’s spire shifts to a sublime experience—a mix of terror and awe. Holmes’s description ("a noonday nightmare," "pinnacled dim in the intense inane") evokes the Romantic sublime, where human insignificance is contrasted with vast, overwhelming forces (here, height and wind). The spire’s swaying—"like a stalk of rye"—humanizes the monumental, making the sublime uncannily personal. The guide’s casual confirmation that the spire does move underscores how even grand structures are subject to nature’s whims, a metaphor for human vulnerability.
Literary Devices
Metaphor and Simile
- "Arrow-heads... guillotine-axe" → Sharp, precise things (literal and figurative) cut deeper than blunt force.
- "The spire swayed... like a stalk of rye or a cat-o’nine-tails" → The sublime made fragile and almost whimsical.
- "A nail will pick a lock that defies hatchet and hammer" → Small, focused efforts achieve what brute force cannot.
Juxtaposition
- The Royal George (mass tragedy) vs. Cowper’s mother’s portrait (personal grief).
- The hangman’s pillar (a monument to a petty criminal) vs. grand historical monuments.
- The spire’s immensity vs. its delicate swaying.
Irony and Dark Humor
- The sheep thief’s death is ironically just: his greed literally chokes him.
- The "hangman’s pillar" is erected by a lord—a nobleman memorializing a criminal, subverting expectations.
Allusion
- "The Royal George" refers to William Cowper’s 1782 poem "On the Loss of the Royal George", contrasting public disaster with private sorrow.
- "Note and Query" alludes to Notes and Queries, a British journal where readers submitted historical trivia—a nod to Holmes’s own call for information.
Sensory and Kinesthetic Imagery
- "Crisps all the fifty-six joints of one’s twenty digits" → The physical aftermath of fear.
- "Swayed back and forward like a... bulrush with a bobolink on it" → The spire’s movement is both graceful and alarming.
Significance of the Passage
Holmes’s Philosophical Style The Autocrat’s musings reflect Holmes’s empirical yet poetic worldview. As a physician, he was attuned to small, diagnostic details; as a writer, he valued the emotional weight of the specific. This passage exemplifies his belief that truth is often found in anecdotes, not abstractions.
Victorian Preoccupations
- Moral Instruction: The hangman’s pillar serves as a cautionary tale, a common Victorian trope.
- The Macabre: Death as entertainment (e.g., public executions, Gothic literature) was a cultural fascination.
- The Sublime: The spire episode reflects the era’s interest in human limits and nature’s power (see also Poe, Melville).
Literary Influence Holmes’s conversational, digressive style influenced later essayists like Robert Louis Stevenson and G.K. Chesterton. His blend of humor, morality, and keen observation also prefigures Mark Twain’s anecdotal storytelling.
Psychological Insight The passage anticipates modern ideas about trauma and memory. Holmes intuitively grasps that personal, sensory details (a mother’s portrait, a swaying spire) imprint more deeply than statistics or grand narratives—a concept later explored by psychologists and writers like Marcel Proust.
Close Reading of Key Lines
"The leaf which holds it is smooth, while that which bears the lines on his mother’s portrait is blistered with tears."
- Contrast: The Royal George poem is polished ("smooth"), but the raw grief over Cowper’s mother leaves a physical mark ("blistered"). Holmes suggests art can capture tragedy, but personal loss leaves scars.
"A noonday nightmare"
- Oxymoron: Nightmares belong to darkness, but this terror happens in broad daylight—the sublime intrudes on the mundane.
"The hangman’s pillar"
- Symbolism: The monument is both a warning and a perverse honor for the thief, blurring morality and folklore.
"Pinnacled dim in the intense inane"
- "Intense inane": A paradox—the void ("inane") is overwhelmingly present ("intense"), capturing the disorientation of the sublime.
Conclusion
This excerpt showcases Holmes’s gift for turning everyday observations into philosophical reflections. Through anecdotes about death, memory, and the sublime, he argues that the small and strange often reveal more about human nature than the grand and historic. His prose—witty, digressive, and rich with imagery—invites readers to see the world as a collection of telling details, where a sheep thief’s monument or a swaying spire can hold as much meaning as a warship’s sinking. In an era of industrialization and imperialism, Holmes reminds us that the personal and the peculiar are the keys to the universal.