The man whose name was writ in water: what made Keats a man before his time

In a fit of rivalrous rage, Lord Byron, one of the most infamous romantic poets, scathingly deemed John Keats' poetry to be "mental masturbation", penned by an egomaniac author who delighted in confusing his readers. This was not a one-off flash of envy; extensive letters and documents prove that Byron nursed a deep-seated hatred for Keats, the source of which is debated over by historians to this day. Most commonly it is pinned to old-fashioned jealousy, but others argue that Byron innately despised Keats due to his own aloof snobbery, unable to accept the work of a "Cockneyish" amateur.

Whilst both reasons are entirely probable (thought Bryon must have been deeply insecure to feel threatened by a nationally derided poet, whilst being an acclaimed master himself), it is my belief that Byron's distaste for Keats was a result of the latter's incessant questioning of masculinity, social order and life itself, unsettling critics who were horrified at the prospect of platforming such a dangerous man. At a time before Marxist theory (and Marx himself) had been conceived, Keats' bold defiance of traditional class systems, hidden beneath floral imagery and mythical love, set fear into the hearts of the conservative readers of the time. He also challenged the rise of anatomical research, fiercely insisting upon the importance of human soul and spirit. This earned him a reputation for being an effeminate, frail man whose death was a result of his own fragile sense of self.

Though Keats rarely dared to tackle such heavy political topics in an explicit way, he would often allude to them through the characteristics of his antagonists. In one of his most highly acclaimed pieces, Isabella or the pot of basil, the twin villains of the poem are slave-driving owners of a mineshaft. They physically and emotionally torment the men who work under them, causing many "once proud loins" to "quiver" in what can be interpreted as either fear or shame. Such blatant victimization of the working class was a bold statement at the time; in an age where literary critics were largely educated in a system that encouraged strong conservative values (and classical economics), Keats was knowingly opening himself up to criticism, defying Byron's notion that he was obsessed with receiving praise from his readers.

Collectivising the suffering of the working class - particularly through Keats' use of plurals such as "many" - elevates the villainy of the antagonists to a level not explored in his earlier works; though the brothers' main sin is murdering Lorenzo and destroying their sister Isabella's psyche, this is set to a backdrop of cruelty that expresses their innate greed and desire to cause unnecessary harm. The sheer number of people who have endured abysmal treatment in the mines serves to present the villains as an oppressive force, rather than complex, layered characters who have personal motives. They are driven by a hunger for wealth and a haughty dislike of those who they perceive to be socially inferior, hence their hatred for Lorenzo. One could criticize Keats for this simplistic characterization, but given the political climate at the time, crafting antagonists who are so blatantly metaphors for capitalistic money-grubbing was a defiant and influential choice.

A more implicit example of Keats' social commentary is his poem To Autumn, which initially appears to depict a dozing labourer who is taking in the rich beauty of the corn fields he works on. As ever, Keats uses his powerful imagery to craft the scene, which was interpreted for years to be describing water meadows next to the river Itchen, which Keats often walked through and used to inspire his poetry. However, upon studying maps and walking guides and the poem itself more thoroughly, historians have come to conclude that it was written from the vantage point of St. Giles' Hill, which had just been bought by a wealthy banker to use for corn production. You might wonder why all this is relevant - surely the site which inspired the poem is of little importance - but in actual fact it gives an entirely new, restless energy to the poem, particularly the second stanza.

We are presented with the labourer, who sits "careless on a granary floor", seemingly calm and detached. However, when examined in the knowledge that the place depicted in the poem is being exploited for its natural resources (and exploiting workers in the process), it is clear that the labourer is not idle, he is exhausted. There is no relaxation here, merely a tired man who is sick of the drudgery of his unfulfilling job. As critic Marggraf Turley writes, "It's not a charming scene of a sleeping labourer, but a worn-out labourer who can't afford to buy the corn he is harvesting". Even the seemingly innocuous line "drowsed with the fume of poppies" becomes darker when paired with all-important context; the opium poppy was greatly abused during the romantic period for use as a narcotic, and even Keats himself was suspected of using the drug. Here, the worker uses opiates to help him cope with his unsatisfactory life, victimizing him as a tool to the unseen evil capitalist who subjects him to such a life.

Socialist themes are indeed prevalent in more of Keats' poetry - influenced greatly by his radical friend Leigh Hunt - but he rarely explicitly referenced the ideologies he was presenting. This is because despite being a trenchant social commentator, Keats' adoration for nature and mythology takes centre stage in his poetry, using feminine and delicate imagery to build beautiful settings that reflect the places which inspired him. It was this sensuous form of writing that cemented Lord Byron and his crowd's hatred for him; such a gentle tone made him sure that Keats was a man of frail disposition, which eventually resulted in him being unable to cope with criticism and led to his death. Conversely, it is my belief that the use of feminine imagery and undertones of eroticism were a way for Keats to explore his unfulfilled desires for romance and sex.

Though his relationship with Fanny Brawne granted him some experience of courtship, Keats was persistently haunted by the knowledge that his life was doomed to be cut short by tuberculosis, which made him painfully aware that he would not have time to pursue all the dreams and urges that he may have had. Whether or not Keats and Fanny ever consummated their relationship is unclear, but despite being engaged, they never married, leaving Keats to painstakingly craft love stories within his poems that depict fantastical visions of all that he and Fanny could have become. The most well-known poem that likely embodies Fanny is The Eve Of St. Agnes, in which the character Madeline represents her. Other works, such as La Belle De Sans Merci, are suspected to also serve as reflections on the poet's own romance, but for the sake of staying on topic I will only be discussing Madeline and her lover Porphyro.

In St. Agnes we follow the story of Madeline, who is a beautiful young woman who has been told that on St. Agnes' eve, if she adheres to a set of rituals, she will have incredible dreams of her lover. The narrative perspective is then quickly given to Porphyro, a young man who is disliked by Madeline's family (perhaps reflecting Keats' friend Charles Brown's distaste for Fanny) yet is determined to watch over her while she has this dream. When Madeline wakes to find him there, she is disappointed - "How changed art thou! How pallid, chill and drear!" - because he is not as impressive as he was in her dream. I believe that this represents Keats' haunting fear that Fanny would one day grow to be disappointed with him, perhaps sexually, given the strikingly erotic language used throughout the poem.

St. Agnes is perhaps the most overtly sexual of all of Keats' poetry. He describes Porhyro as like "a throbbing star" and continually uses the colour purple to implicitly suggest sexual activity. However, the metaphors used to imply the supposed consummation between Madeline and Porphyro are both vague and intense, seemingly presenting sex as a life-altering moment, almost "ethereal" in nature. Whist Keats may have chosen to do this in order to cloak a vulgar scene with romanticized language, it also could represent his restless imaginings of what sex could be. The fantastical, over-dramatized depiction of Madeline's loss of virginity is what Keats believed that he would feel if he were to sleep with/marry Fanny. As a result his descriptions of sex read less like beautiful, loving scenes and more like the work of an inexperienced man attempting to portray a feeling that he has never felt.

The beauty and sexual undertones in Keats' poetry were a way of venting his desires, but in the eyes of his critics they were emasculating and uncomfortable to read. Though he was relentlessly mocked, derided and ignored during his tragically short lifetime, Keats deeply unsettled the men who criticized him, never choosing to give in and continuing to present daring, controversial or taboo themes. The national perception of Keats ranged from a weakly amateur to a fiercely passionate master of poetry, but what his modern readership should not forget is the source of all his inspiration. From the importance of setting in To Autumn to the confused, repressed ramblings in St Agnes, Keats was clearly a man who was greatly influenced by the world around him, as well as his own feelings. His inner turmoil regarding his diagnosis of TB and his inability to truly love Fanny Brawne is what formed the deep complexities in his writing, rather than being the pretentious narcissist that Byron determinedly presented him as. In many ways, it is a blessing to the romantic period that Keats had such a tumultuous life, since had he not been heartbroken several times over, his complicated, beautiful writing might never have written, cherished and respected by countless historians and readers today.