Why did that damn Ancient Mariner shoot that damn Albatross?

Why did that damn Ancient Mariner shoot that damn Albatross? To provide my (speculative) answer to this question, I must first demonstrate how I arrived at my conclusion. (Also, I apologize for the informality of my writing.)

First and foremost, I see a number of parallels between “Rime” and the other Coleridge text that we’ve read this semester, “Kubla Khan.” To give a few examples that support my conclusion, I should point out the similarities between the Ancient Mariner and the “I,” or narrator, in the final stanzas of “Kubla Khan,” particularly in their physical descriptions: the “long grey beard and glittering eye” of the Mariner compared with the “flashing eyes” and “floating hair” of the narrator of “Kubla Khan.” Moreover, the warning in “Kubla Khan”to “Beware! Beware!” the “I,” to “close your eyes with holy dread” against him—a warning that the “next of kin” wedding guest undoubtedly ignores as he is captured by the Mariner, who “holds him with his glittering eye.”

From what I remember of “Kubla Khan” (to avoid the pun, I should probably say from our discussion of “Kubla Khan”), as well as from my re-reading of it, I think that we have to identify Coleridge with its narrator, the “I” who so desperately desires to re-experience this dream so that he can “build that dome in air.” I feel it necessary to also ask whether or not we can identify Coleridge with the Ancient Mariner in “Rime.” I think that we can, and I’ll attempt to show why.

We must remember that “Rime” was published in Lyrical Ballads, and we must also recall what Wordsworth and Coleridge (perhaps more the former?) were attempting to do with their publication, at least in my opinion: create something wholly new. To stray a bit, let me set up an analogy. Surely it is a general understanding that any person or thing that tends to go against the conventional way of thinking or acting is often interpreted, at least at first, as something radical. Romanticism is, I think, radical; I mean, it is possible that its inception is synonymous with the French Revolution (and what’s more radical than that?). Now, to connect the analogy: the Mariner’s shooting of the Albatross is, in my opinion, radical, unconventional. In fact, the Mariner is nothing more than a mariner, indistinguishable from the other sailors on his boat; this until he commits the unforgettable act: he shoots the Albatross. In class, some wondered why he shoots the Albatross—I feel as if the Mariner’s shooting of the Albatross, an unconventional, perhaps radical, act, is a metaphor for Coleridge’s (and Wordsworth’s) goal to do something radical, to create something different. It’s undeniable that the Mariner’s life is changed for his act. Thus, I see Coleridge and the Mariner in the same light.

From here, one might ask: How do you incorporate the rest of “Rime” into your ridiculous theory? I cannot confidently state to be able to do such a thing, at least not flawlessly. I have come to accept (mostly from reading Philip K. Dick) that both contradictions and flaws exist in literature, and we cannot account for all of these in our own theories. I will, however, try my best to incorporate the rest of “Rime” into my theory.

The shooting of the Albatross is, I think, in some ways related to the Kantian imagination/understanding circle thingy (I still don’t know the name of this thing). Remember: Blake thought that he could transcend the limits of his understanding through imagination, but, by doing so, he would see that humans are in fact limited in their understanding. The Mariner suffers for his radical act. His suffering, however, is not Death, but Life-in-Death, in the sense that he lives, but his life is, I think, figuratively morbid because those around him who haven’t also attempted the radical, those who just criticize the Mariner’s radical actions (e.g. the other sailors on the boat), appear dead to him. In other words, he suffers because he sees in this new radical light while no one else does. (I think we can see this same idea in poems such as “London” with the “mind-forgd manacles.”)

From here, you might retort, “But the Albatross falls off—certainly you cannot account for that!” I think we have to remember how the Albatross gets around the Mariner’s neck. He doesn’t do it—the other sailors do. And, in order to dislodge this burden, the Mariner needs to find support elsewhere, and he eventually finds it in the “water-snakes”; in other words, he finds support in natural imagery. And natural imagery, as we know from taking this course, is a staple of the Romantic poets.

There will be other objections. I don’t care to answer them at this point because you’re probably sick of this long blog. From here I will shut up, but please comment— I would love to discuss further. However, I hope that my blog has shown not so much that Coleridge and the Mariner are one in the same person, just in two different worlds, but rather that we should not write things off in literature and other disciplines that we think are “bullshit.” I admit that the Mariner’s seemingly arbitrary killing of the Albatross does seem implausible, but I don’t think we can just write it off as so. Instead, we should show why something like the killing of the Albatross is nonsense—in other words, argue for our speculations.