Prometheus in Romantic Literature: Byron, Shelley, and the Myth

Introduction: The Promethean Flame in the Romantic Mind

The Promethean myth holds a very strong place within the literature of the Romantic era — a period marked by the rekindling of the ideas and ideals of classical antiquity. Within each evolving age, writers incorporate the concerns of their own time into the stories and ideals of the old. The Romantics were not alone in their fascination with creation and the Promethean myth; their forerunners shared a grand fascination with the messages of the Greeks, influencing the degree of attention the myth has received throughout literary and philosophical history. The Promethean myth has become so common a thread that the tradition continues to build in nearly every generation of writers, and within that tradition there are many evolving interpretations of what the myth is and what it means to man and God.

Classical lessons spoke freely and openly to the writers and artists of the Romantic period. Armed with those lessons and their own life experience and world-view, individuals rekindled the old — and especially the tragic — lessons of bygone ages, applying and reapplying their value to the questions and problems of the day. One particularly moving myth, that of Prometheus and his gift of kindness to mankind, rewarded with an eternal damnation inflicted by the gods, speaks volumes to witnesses of more modern human suffering and cruelty. So much so that, for many thinkers, Prometheus has become the standard-bearer for the human relationship with the creator.

The Promethean myth burns like a white-hot flame at the forefront of the Romantic mind, flickering and dancing like an enlightened spark. The Romantic period, for many, marks a second Renaissance. If we examine some of the most popular works of Byron, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and Mary Shelley, we begin to see the Promethean image as a unifying flame that jumps, interconnects, and transforms — like a raging, all-consuming wildfire — throughout each of their collective imaginative worlds.

Within a passage of Faust, Goethe expresses the burning and unflagging feeling of both man and the divine as the primary tools for creation through love, associating it with the human condition in all its advantages and disadvantages. This is clearly a continuation of the spark of understanding of the Promethean myth. The power of the creative spirit is linked here to the gifts given to man by Prometheus. The example set by Prometheus — his creation of man through love for his creation — is exemplified in the following passage:

What you don't feel, you will not grasp by art,
Unless it wells out of your soul
And with sheer pleasure takes control,
Compelling every listener's heart.
But sit — and sit, and patch and knead,
Cook a ragout, reheat your hashes,
Blow at the sparks and try to breed
A fire out of piles of ashes!
Children and apes may think it great,
If that should titillate your gum,
But from heart to heart you will never create,
If from your heart it does not come.
(Goethe 105)

In this passage Goethe expresses the value of the gift — through the kindling of fire, the possessive spirit of creativity, and the power of knowledge given to man by the creator.

The Classical Prometheus: Origins and Meaning of the Myth

The gods of the Greek tradition are far more fallible and humanistic than the God of contemporary religion. Their personalities are characterizations that allow for mistakes, compromises, trickery, and deception, all leveled against both man and their fellow gods. The German scholar Kerenyi describes Prometheus as:

bearing marks of human existence; [is] one compelled by his own shortcomings to offend against his environment and his companions in growth; who in so doing employs devious, crooked thinking (for in the world of growth the pathways are naturally crooked); inevitably, a wounder and a wounded one. These are among his human characteristics.
(Kerenyi 55)

The Promethean myth is the Greek creation story, with Prometheus and the other gods as protagonists against one another. Prometheus was said to have created man at the charge of his father Zeus. As the creator of man, Prometheus feels kindness and love for his creation. The gifts and protection he gives to man — and especially the deceptive means by which they are obtained — are the source of his downfall and eternal punishment.

Prometheus slays the first sacrifice of flesh and gives the best parts to man. He is then said to have stolen fire from the gods and offered it to man as both a spiritual and a life-giving force, to separate man from beasts through the ability to manipulate fire. "Prometheus, 'the one with foreknowledge' (pro = before or fore, and manthano = to know) was believed to have been the one who gave fire to mortals" (Wutrich 7). With his gift came man's ability to worship fully, to cook, and to artificially light the darkness. Prometheus is also said to have been the creator of woman — Pandora — who holds the key to both destruction and bliss.

"He receives punishment first of all for tricking Zeus at the sacrifice; this charge had been laid against him since the Theogony. Second, he bears the guilt for creating humans, especially women; this charge is newly laid and reflects the Hellenistic understanding of the myth. Last, he is punished for the theft of fire which, like the trick at the sacrifice, is an ancient part of the story" (Wutrich 50–51).

Though the myth exists in many fragmented and culturally varied forms, Prometheus is consistently punished both for his trickery and his loving gifts to man. The Promethean myth embodies the cliché that the road to hell — or in this case, eternal damnation — is paved with good intentions. Within these tales of the ancients are questions, and some would say answers, about the existence of man, his place in the world, and his relationship with his creator or creators.

The tripartite character of Prometheus — rebel, philanthropist, and creator — invites comparison with the character Faust. As Wutrich argues, "Faust, too, in his rebellion against the Christian God, becomes a new kind of fire-bringer, no longer carrying the spark of fire in a narthex stem, but rather carrying the spark of knowledge — more knowledge than a mortal should have — in his mind" (Wutrich 37).

The Romantic thinkers and their forerunners weave fascinating and compelling arguments through literary devices that analyze, question, and contend the nature of truth, man, and creation. In the Romantic heart there is a desire to understand how the infallible and omnipotent God of the Christians could allow the fearful realities of life on earth. In doing so they reach back to the stories of the ancients, yearning for a fallible and human creator who can explain the strife visible in the world of men. Prometheus, as a character, has been compared to God, Jesus, and many mortals over his thousands of years of existence as an idea. He has been written about by hundreds of authors, among them figures as notable as Goethe, Byron, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and Mary Shelley.

Lord Byron and the Promethean Individual

The interactions and interconnectedness of these particular contemporary authors lend a great deal of insight into the collective ideals of the Romantic era. With each new incarnation of the myth there began a dialogue between individual authors and, later, among the scholars associated with the study of English literature and its Promethean inheritance (Byron 10). Through each age and each interpretation, the Promethean myth demonstrates its reputation as a living, evolving creation of ideas — both modern and ancient. The analogous use of Prometheus and his relationship with man, the world, and creation has become a universal literary device, or what some would call an archetype.

Lord Byron, in Manfred, speaks of the similarities between the creator (Prometheus) and man, made from clay, just as the legend goes. As Knight explains, drawing on the similarities and kinship between the Prometheus of the myth and the man of his creation:

Manfred is a study of a Faust-like figure who yet appears simultaneously greater and inferior, better and worse than other men; one who is known for 'deeds of good and ill, extreme in both' (II, ii). Manfred feels superior:
For if the beings, of whom I was one —
Hating to be so — cross'd me in my path,
I felt myself degraded back to them,
And was all clay again.
(Knight 240)

Within Manfred is Byron's expression of his feeling of both humanity and superiority. He is also emulating the compassionate pull of Prometheus toward his human brethren. Though Manfred is immortal — or at least superior — he feels kinship with those beings who are made from clay.

This passage clearly illustrates the Romantic fascination with creation concepts and the way mortals and immortals, inferiors and superiors, humans and gods relate to one another in passion and compassion. The mortal and the immortal challenge their own true natures to find kinship and belief in the goodness and redemptive power of the other.

In a more direct handling of the Prometheus character, Lord Byron attempts to assist his readers in understanding his work through a poem bearing the very name of the giant — "Prometheus." It is clear from this work that Byron is attempting to enter the mind of the creator. In the opening passages, the irony of Prometheus' eternal mortal suffering is presented as an example of the kinship and empathy the Romantic mind showed to him:

Titan! To whose immortal eyes
The sufferings of mortality,
Seen in their sad reality,
Were not as things that gods despise;
What was thy pity's recompense?
A silent suffering, and intense;
The rock, the vulture and the chain
(Byron 264)

Prometheus' kindness and pity upon mortal man lead him to embrace the eternal suffering that all gods wish to avoid. Byron questions the nature of Prometheus' crimes and asks the reader to empathize with his eternal predicament:

Thy Godlike crime was to be kind,
To render with thy precepts less
The sum of human wretchedness,
And strengthen Man with his own mind;
Still in thy patient energy,
In the endurance, and repulse
Of thine impenetrable Spirit,
A mighty lesson we inherit.
(Byron 265)

Byron compels his reader and all mankind to listen to the wisdom of Prometheus' fate and to find empathy and wisdom in his demise. He charges that man is not only like Prometheus but that he will suffer a similar fate:

Thou art a symbol and a sign
To Mortals of their fate and force;
Like thee, Man is part divine,
A troubled stream from a pure source;
And Man in portions can foresee
His own funereal destiny.
(265)

Through his own wretched existence on this cruel earth, man will wish for and foresee the "victory" of his own death. Byron here states a constant theme of the Romantic writer: the torturous gift of knowledge of the frailty of one's own existence. Not unlike the Christian creation story — in which man took knowledge from the tree and was forever more destined to be stricken from the perfection of the garden — man lives a life in the limbo of constant seeking, yearning for a divine liberty that was once his.

In these works, and especially in Manfred, one can see that the expressions of loss, constant seeking, the double-edged gift of knowledge, and the cruelty that man inflicts upon his brother — through war, progress, and even good intentions — are the window of the Romantic soul. In these analogies, the writer could not help but continue the living, evolving progression of the Promethean myth.

In much earlier works, the clarity and perspective of Prometheus himself are primary, yet in the later years — and particularly in the Romantic era — the literary tool attempts to use the mind of Prometheus as a template for understanding the mind of man. Though the mythology was originally spread to send messages of morality and responsibility, it was not until much later that the individual as the primary and most important voice was embraced.

In Manfred, the Faust-like and therefore Prometheus-like god-man holds the central — if not the only — perspective for the piece. Not only does Manfred hold the characteristics of a god and the perspective of the individual, he is also intended to represent a great and knowledgeable modern man. It is through these associations that the personality and character of the author are clearly developed. The very idea that modern literary scholars find the inner workings of the author's mind — as revealed through fictional characters — to be among the most fascinating of topics is itself testament to the modern assumption of universal personal perspective.

The analogous use of the personal view juxtaposed with the collective view of responsibility and guilt for the actions of all men can also be seen as the Romantic mind's burning desire to reassert the values of the ancients to a selfish and self-serving modern world. The bearers of the gift of knowledge — such as the great writers discussed here — often feel the most profound responsibility to use their double-edged gift to better the whole of mankind. Yet it can be argued that the superiority Manfred speaks of feeling is the writer's own self-regard given up as both a great reality and a fundamental personal fault.

Conclusion: The Living Evolution of the Promethean Myth

Doctor Frankenstein is the individualized modern Prometheus and the most recent realization of the evolution of the Promethean myth examined in this paper. The Romantic era brought to greater light the questioning of faith, the negativity of human existence, and then, through a modern interpretation, there is still the spring of hope that the creator's creation has not floundered with no recompense and no success. The fire of the myth of Prometheus does indeed lead the Romantic artist through a lifelong desire to create, interpret, and alter the myth for the greatest purpose of its allegorical use as a tool for the betterment of man, earth, and society.

From Goethe's kindling metaphor to Byron's empathetic identification, from Percy Shelley's hopeful revision to Mary Shelley's darkly modern transposition, the Romantic era demonstrated that the Promethean myth is not a fixed classical artifact but a living, evolving conceptualization of mankind's relationship with its world and its creator. With each new incarnation, the myth absorbs the questions of its age and returns them transformed — still burning, still illuminating, still unbound.

Works Cited

Butler, E.M. Byron and Goethe: Analysis of a Passion. London: Bowes & Bowes, 1956.

Byron, Lord George G. Lord Byron: The Major Works (Oxford World's Classics). Ed. Jerome J. McGann. Oxford UK: Oxford Press, 2000.

Cairns, Douglas L. Aidos: The Psychology and Ethics of Honour and Shame in Ancient Greek Literature. Oxford, England: Oxford University Press, 1993.

Kerenyi, Karl. Prometheus: Archetypal Image of Human Existence. New York: Bollingen Foundation, 1963.

Rolf Brown King, et al., eds. Goethe on Human Creativeness, and Other Goethe Essays. Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1950.

Moore, Thomas, and George Gordon Byron. The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals, and His Life. London: John Murray, 1835.

Myers, Doris T. C.S. Lewis in Context. Kent, OH: Kent State University Press, 1994.

Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft. Frankenstein Or, the Modern Prometheus. New York: Collier Books, 1961.

Shelley, Percy B. Prometheus Unbound. Literature Classics website, retrieved November 10, 2003 at http://www.literatureclassics.com/etexts/492/.

Wutrich, Timothy Richard. Prometheus and Faust: The Promethean Revolt in Drama from Classical Antiquity to Goethe. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1995.