by Chris Alexion, Copyright December 08, 2006, all rights reserved. 355 views
Emma Lazarus's sonnet "The New Colossus" is a great example, not only of American literary art, but also of what is at the heart of America herself. Lazarus portrays America, through the personified figure of Lady Liberty, as an asylum for those oppressed by tyranny and poverty. New York harbor becomes a refuge for the "homeless, tempest-tossed" multitudes which look on this Lady's torch as a light by the door of their new home.
Lazarus compares Lady Liberty with the original Colossus, which stood astride the harbor of Rhodes in the Mediterranean. This "brazen giant" represents imperial pride and iron might; the Statue of Liberty symbolizes a welcoming strength that disregards the "storied pomp" of the Old World. Lazarus' vivid imagery contrasts the "conquering limbs" of the "brazen giant" with the "mild eyes" of the "mighty woman." Lady Liberty's electric torch burns with "imprisoned lightning," and she lifts this lamp "beside the golden door." The metaphors combine to form a compassionate picture for huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
We need Lazarus' words today. We need to feel, amidst the pull of nascent imperialism, that America wasn't meant to be like the nations of old, who gambled their liberties on a dice roll and disintegrated in the addictive decay of global power. Lady Liberty was built to welcome the helpless and guard the harbor, not to stride the continents.
But if we won't heed Lazarus, we may learn too late from two poets who watched firsthand the moral and theological corrosion of the British Empire. The first is Kipling, who warned his country that to forget the past and the hand that guided it was to put too much at stake. "Lo, all our pomp of yesterday," said Kipling, "is one with Ninevah and Tyre."
Even more striking is Shelley, who, without a biblical view of history, still saw the futility and hollowness of imperial arrogance:
. . . And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings;
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair."
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
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