The Faerie Queene Book Two, by Edmund Spenser, is a book entirely dedicated to the concept of temperance and moderation. Expounded as a cardinal virtue in Plato's Republic and similarly cited in many other influential works from many cultures, temperance encompasses a myriad of traits or characteristics. Perhaps it is best described as abstaining from excess; resist temptations and impulses that might otherwise completely overwhelm one's control. That temperance is the main concern of the second book is made clear by Spenser in the title of the work, entitled The Legend of Sir Guyon OR Of Temperaunce. However, rather than simply being the story of a temperate knight, the nature of temperance itself is actually the subject of the second book; in particular, whether or not it is possible to be consistently tempered. The second book highlights the flaws in the concept of temperance, and this has wider ramifications when considering the social context, particularly regarding the Reformation and the perceived pitfalls of Catholicism compared to Protestantism (temperance is probably considered unimportant in Protestantism, since Protestants believe in predestination). This essay will show, therefore, how the second book of The Faerie Queene can be considered a religious commentary as well as an examination of the idea of ​​temperance. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay An important point to note, before examining each particular stanza in detail, is that one word that continually recurs throughout Canto XII is "unrestrained" , and this word perfectly encapsulates the dichotomy between the Bower of Bliss and the nature of sin. It is a word that can mean many things, and in fact its meaning throughout this Canto changes depending on the context in which it is used. First, it is used in the phrase “nature had for wanton ensude” (2.12.59.3), which describes it as a bad thing, or at least something excessive. However, when referring to the images of the boys on the fountain, the word - used in the line “irrouson toyes” (2.12.60.8) - implies playfulness. In stanza 61, when describing the flowers in the fountain, the word is used negatively again: “Their soft flowers…seemed to make the wanton weep” (2.12.61.9). Finally, in stanza 63, the word is used in perhaps its most layered context: the maidens in the fountain are said to “fight wildly” (2.12.63.8). This could simply mean that their wrestling was lighthearted; however, the occurrence of the word (which occurs thirteen times in this Canto) as well as Guyon's response to their fight, mixes the ideas of excessiveness, playfulness, and sexual hedonism. The rather disparate meanings of the word “reckless” infuse this Song with an ambivalence about what, exactly, qualifies as sin, and emphasizes that evil does not always appear evil – something Guyon apparently fails to notice until the end of the book and his meeting with Acrasia. While this is a recurring theme throughout the book, it is probably most evident during Canto Twelve, in which Guyon finally reaches the Bower. In stanza 58 of Canto XII, the Bower is described for the first time: it is called a “Paradise” (2.12.58.1), even to Guyon's “sober eye” (2.12.58.2). In fact, it is not even described in particularly lewd or evil terms; instead it seems like a place of beauty, where nature seems to be the distinctive feature. Spenser mentions “painted flowers” ​​(2.12.58.5), “the hills for breathing” (2.12.58.6), and “the Christ running by” (2.12.58.7) – unmistakably imagespositive. Furthermore, the pleasures spoken of in this stanza appear to be universal, since "no one makes others happy enuye" (2.12.58.4). The Bower truly seems like a paradise, and the final line of the stanza directly addresses this, saying, “Art, which all this created, appeared nowhere” (2.12.58.9). The dichotomy between what appears to be the Bower and what it is in Guyon's view, is laid out here for the reader: he seems to expect brazen, unbridled sin and the obvious presence of magic or some supernatural source, but instead is presented with a glorious representation of nature. The comparison of the Bower (known to be a sinful place) with the majesty of nature, reproduced in all its glory, makes a statement about the connection between nature and sin, and probably implies that what is considered sinful is also natural (created or predestined directly by God), an important Protestant argument – ​​and a powerful argument against temperance as a permanent feature Stanza 59 goes on to address this dichotomy, talking about how skillfully the Bower seems to emulate nature, and how “ art” and nature seem harmoniously intertwined, as in the lines “Thus striving each other to undermine / Each made the others work more beautifully” (2.12.59.5-6). It is as if Bower himself somehow surpasses nature – this is demonstrated by the phrase “that nature had for wantonness” (2.12.59.3). Interestingly, this is the first point where negative vocabulary creeps into the articulation; in particular, the lines cited above, and the line “Art, and that Art in nature repine [chafe]” (2.12.59.4). This idea of ​​the jarring comparison between nature and the Bower's magical representation of nature is not supported, however, and in fact the stanza is preceded by the words "One would have thought..." (2.12.59.1), so the Bower is not being directly described in negative terms. However, the reason for including such ideas remains ambiguous; it could be simply to provide a sense of juxtaposition, or it could be making a point about the reader, essentially telling them that true beauty, and that which comes from evil sources, are indistinguishable. This likely highlights the fact that the pleasures offered in the Bower, while encouraging sin, are not in themselves sinful, as they are described as aesthetically pleasing and even the narrator seems unaware of any ways in which the Bower might be perceived as evil. The pleasant imagery is renewed throughout the remainder of this stanza, with Bower's final impression being that of "sweet otherness" (2.12.59.8). That same phrase, however, can be understood in several ways, two of which contain important allegorical points. First, temperance itself is, by comparison, “not sweet,” as it is a way of being that despises diversity, and instead simply encourages the metaphorical steadying of the hand, rather than action, whether good or bad. . Secondly, and perhaps more crucially, this phrase implies that there is a certain symbiosis between nature and sin. This connects to the Protestant idea that sin is ingrained in humans and that they are predestined to sin. Taken this way, this stanza hints at Guyon's imminent loss of control as a result, probably, of what happens in the following stanzas. The next stanza introduces perhaps the most important physical object of this Canto: the fountain. This element is significant both for its imminent role in Guyon's strongest temptation, but also because it links to a story told by Palmer in Canto II - of a nymph who flees from the unwanted advances of Faunus by becoming a fountain, whose water does not could ever be stained. In fact, in that Canto, Palmer says that “thesecret virtues are infused/In every fountain” (2.2.5.6-7), and the fountain of Canto XII seems to reinforce this fact. It is described as breathtakingly beautiful, made of “the richest substance, that on earth could be” (2.12.60.2), as well as “pure” (2.12.60.3) – an interesting choice of words given the setting. While most of the words used thus far to describe the Bower, with the possible exception of “Paradise,” are words related to aestheticism, the word “pure” has different, particularly sacred, connotations. There is an intrinsic connection between the Cantos II and XII here, as divinity and lust are inexorably linked through the fountain – a connection that makes a larger allegorical point. Palmer's story in Canto II shows that lust is inevitable unless one becomes something else, which is exactly what happens to Guyon at the end of this Canto. This once again confirms the Protestant idea that sin itself is inevitable. A related and salient point is that the fountains are, as Palmer says, connected with secret magic – an interesting oversight, then, when in stanza 58 there is the statement about “Art… appear[ing] in no place” (2.12.58.9). While this may be a reference to the fact that Acrasia is specifically not visible anywhere, another interpretation is that Guyon himself does not consider the fountain to be magical. This is the first step towards its ultimate downfall, and it highlights once again an important point: even when you are specifically warned about sin, you cannot be expected to recognize it every time it appears, which goes some way to refute the idea of ​​temperance as a permanent condition. treatment. How, this section implies, one can be temperate even when one is unable to recognize sin when one sees it. In stanza 62, the positive imagery continues, with the “endless streams” (2.12.62.1) of the jasper-paved fountain being described as “sweet and beautiful to behold” (2.12.62.2). Despite these claims, the fountain is perhaps the most powerful representation of unbridled excess (and, indeed, magic) in the garden. While the streams of all the fountains appear to be endless, Spenser describes the basin into which they fall as becoming fuller and fuller, saying that the water “soon grew… /It seemed to be like a lake” (2.12.62.4- 5). This is a clear sign that the fountain is magical: if the streams were infinite and the amount of water in the basin increased as it was observed, but the depth never exceeded three cubits, then clearly the fountain is magical since a such a thing is impossible. . Furthermore, in stanza 63, it is made clear that this fountain is surrounded by laurel trees, which “defend” it (2.12.63.2) from sunlight – a powerful choice of words, since sunlight is intrinsically connected with idea of ​​the power of heaven. This word choice is followed by the personification of sunlight itself; it “[beats] on the waves” (2.12.63.3), implying the idea of ​​a battle between light and darkness. Very similar, in fact, to what is about to occur within Guyon himself (or, probably, between Guyon's inner self and the Palmer), when he sees the women fighting in the fountain. The description of these women, between stanzas 64 and 67, has a rather different tone from what has arrived so far. Spenser's choice of words in these stanzas is much more ambiguous. The women are not simply naked; their bodies are sometimes hidden by the water “as through a sail” (2.12.64.6), and then suddenly exposed to all present and “th'amorous sweet spoil” (2.12.64.9) revealed to Guyon's “covetous eyes” (2.12. 64.9). In other words, they are set up to be as tempting as possible, their “delicate parts” (2.12.63.9) are hidden and.