Lady Shalott

 

J. W. Waterhouse, " 'I am sick of shadows', said the Lady of Shalott", 1915. Art Gallery of Ontario.

Lady Shalott vivía encerrada en una torre y sobre ella había caído una maldición de ignota procedencia: no podía mirar a Camelot. Aunque ignoraba las consecuencias, se pasaba el día tejiendo y observando el mundo exterior, no sin cierto amedrentamiento, a través de la ventana reflejada en el espejo. La luz del sol, los cánticos y las voces de los habitantes de Camelot y, en definitiva, la vida en toda su efervescencia, la hicieron ser consciente de su desgracia:

" 'Cansada estoy de las sombras', dijo
La Dama de Shalott".

Influído por la literatura medieval, el poeta de época victoriana Alfred Tennyson, autor de "La Dama de Shalott", sirvió a su vez de inspiración a los pintores de la Hermandad Prerrafaelita. Estrechamente conectados, pintura y literatura volvieron su mirada hacia el pasado medieval envueltos en un espíritu característicamente romántico.

En esta pintura, algo tardía (1915) pero aún en consonancia con la esencia del prerrafaelismo, John William Waterhouse nos muestra a una Lady Shalott ya hastiada de su cautiverio. 

(Part II)

There she weaves by night and day

A magic web with colors gay.

She has heard a whisper say,

A curse i son her if she stay

To look down to Camelot.

She knows not what the curse may be,

And so she weaveth steadily,

And little other care hath she,

the Lady of Shalott.

And moving thro’ a mirror clear

That hangs before her all year,

Shadows of the world appear.

There she sees the highway near

               Winding down to Camelot;

There the river Eddy whirls,

And there the surly village-churls,

And the red cloaks of market girls,

               Pass onwad from Shalott.

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,

An abbot on an ambling pad,

Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,

Or long-hair’d page in crimson clad,

               Goes by to tower’d Camelot.

And sometimes thro’ the mirror blue

The knihts come riding two and two:

She hath no loyal knight and true,

               The Lady of Shalott.

But in her web she still delights

To weave the mirror’s magic sights,

For often thro’ the silent nights

A funeral, with plumes and lights

               And music, went to Camelot;

Or when the moon was overhead,

Came two young lovers lately wed:

“I am half sick of shadows”, said

               The Lady Shalott.

Otros dos cuadros de Waterhouse ilustran esta historia que, como podéis imaginar, tuvo un funesto final... 

 (Part IV)

And down the river’s dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance –
With glassy countenance
    Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
     The Lady of Shalott.

J. W. Waterhouse, "The Lady of Shalott", 1888. Tate Gallery, London.

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Fuentes:

Alfred Tennyson, "The Lady Shalott", Dod, Mead & Company, New York, 1881.

https://ago.ca/collection/object/71/18

https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/waterhouse-the-lady-of-shalott-n01543