Crazy Jane Talks with the Bishop
by William Butler Yeats
I met the Bishop on the road
And much said he and I.
`Those breasts are flat and fallen now
Those veins must soon be dry;
Live in a heavenly mansion,
Not in some foul sty.’
`Fair and foul are near of kin,
And fair needs foul,’ I cried.
‘My friends are gone, but that’s a truth
Nor grave nor bed denied,
Learned in bodily lowliness
And in the heart’s pride.
`A woman can be proud and stiff
When on love intent;
But Love has pitched his mansion in
The place of excrement;
For nothing can be sole or whole
That has not been rent.’
—
[Edited 10/20/2021]
In the first verse we meet Jane as the speaker of the poem and this gives one a moment of pause by the question of whether or not her account can be unbiased, and how much grain of salt one ought to take her narration with. Yet, as one who is described as crazy, it is likely that Jane has no reason to alter her report of the “talk” with the bishop. Seeing as she has not even a good reputation to maintain or protect, it is rational that many would not care for her story and those who give her their ears may do so for sport, caring little for its truths. This means there is little reason for her to fabricate her account of her meeting with the bishop. So Jane says she runs into the bishop on the road, “And much said he and I.” The word “said” holds weight. The notion that people talk or say things to one another brings round the question, how much listening actually occurred? Did Jane listen to the bishop? And how about the bishop, could he hear-out Jane? What has a crazy woman to say to a bishop? And what has a bishop to say to such a woman?
Well, the bishop said “Those breasts are flat and fallen now / Those veins must soon be dry.” Aha! Go on and laugh because these lines are funny. It appears our bishop has little good sense. A man of his ilk ought to know to speak better. Especially to those he deems beneath himself and thus worthy of his empathy. These lines are not very Christianly of the bishop. Seeing as he is up there where agency seems to shine, it is quite terrible that he would say such unkind things to a fellow human being––even if she is outside his congregation. It is the sort of thing one would expect Jane to say, seeing as we are told she is the crazy one. One expects mindfulness of a bishop for his whole business is to charm souls to God. So when a man meets a woman on the street and says to her, you are all withered now and shall soon die, does the woman say, please tell me more? Well the bishop does proceed with some unasked for advice: “Live in a heavenly mansion, / Not in some foul sty.” Would you say it is fair to classify this man rude? I am not saying one has to go about flattering people and calling gray, green, but the man seems to lack respect for the recipient of his words––he is basically telling her he thinks her lifestyle no better than that of a pig’s!
In the second stanza, Jane answers the bishop as such: “Fair and foul are near of kin, / And fair needs foul.” In these few words, Jane shows herself in possession of more discernment and shrewdness than the bishop. Indeed, fair and foul share a strong bond, for where foul roams is merely nearby to fair’s lurking. We know fair by knowing foul and foul by knowing fair, for fair is only as fair as foul is foul. This is the concept of duality. If one were to say foul would correctly classify an old woman with the name Crazy Jane, and fair an appointed leader in the Church, then fair and foul being near of kin is expressed in this instance of the bishop and Jane’s meet and talk.
Again, expressing fair and foul as near of kin is shown in a seemingly fair role, i. e., the bishop’s title, with a foul practice, i. e., the bishop’s treatment of Jane. In that “fair needs foul” one may consider how the bishop’s supremacy clearly needs people like Jane to keep itself up. This is expressed in how the bishop’s sense of the “heavenly” is opposite to what he sees in Jane. But whereas the bishop need Jane for his role to hold any significance, Jane does not need the bishop for she feels the “heavenly mansion” is not so far from the “sty.”
Jane continues, “My friends are gone, but that’s a truth / Nor grave nor bed denied.” In other words, her friends may be absent and that is not particular. Much is compressed here in few words. In saying that her “friends are gone” one can understand Jane to mean those who empathize with her to be dead. This can be supported by the Bishop’s description of her as old and near dying. But it could also mean that those who understand her are no longer near her. And “that’s a truth,” suggests an understanding and acceptance of the circumstance. A circumstance that she feels is neither “grave”––perhaps a pun for the seriousness of the religious burial or death––“nor bed denied,” which could mean homelessness. In which case one could string “grave” with “denied,” too, which could mean the denial of a proper burial. This is supported by the bishop’s words in the first stanza: “Live in a heavenly mansion, / Not in some foul sty.” In which case it is perhaps safe to decipher Jane has neither a worldly home nor does she engage in practices that would ensure her a spiritual one––that is the sort of life that, according to the bishop, would guarantee her body a Church’s burial and thus allow her soul a heavenly ascension.
The first four lines of the second stanza sums up Jane’s perception of life and give some ideas of her circumstance in relation to material wealth and spiritual placement in regards to the church. But the last two lines of the stanza, put as “Learned in bodily lowliness / And in the heart’s pride,” seem to insinuate how Jane arrived at her present understanding of life and at the same time appears to reject the bishop’s offer. “Bodily lowliness” seems to agree with the bishop’s description of Jane as someone who is led by bodily desires which according to the church is sin. But one remembers that Jane’s philosophy is “fair needs foul.” Hence her understanding of “bodily lowliness” is bound to differ from the bishop’s point of view.
In that “fair needs foul,” one may say Jane is pointing out that through “bodily lowliness” one can gain spiritual insight that is probably beyond the grasp of the bishop’s. Also, as lowly as the body might be in relation to the soul, it is still the vessel of the soul. This further emphasizes Jane’s point of “fair needs foul.” Also it is worth highlighting the word, “learned,” which could mean a lesson had been gleaned in the state of “bodily lowliness” that shapes Jane’s current state and views. And how about the last line, “And in the heart’s pride?” She does not say pride in the heart or even a proud heart but rather “in the heart’s pride.” Thus a heart’s choice rather than a choice imposed on a heart. Thus a heart that is not ruled by pride, but one that exercises its pride.
The third stanza explains further Jane’s perspective of “Fair and foul are near of kin, / And fair needs foul,” in saying, “A woman can be proud and stiff / When on love intent;” meaning one can be rigid on the crusade of love. But then the line is followed by a contradicting one, “But Love has pitched his mansion in / The place of excrement.” There appears to be two kinds of love on discussion: One with the lowercase l, and the other with the uppercase L. The lower love seems to demand of one pride and stiffness, while the upper Love, whose “mansion” sits on “The place of excrement” demands the opposite: humility and flexibility. Perhaps these lines also suggest the ways in which Jane and the bishop differ: Jane of the “foul sty” seems interested in the Love of humility while the bishop of the “heavenly mansion” shows the “proud and stiff” traits of one who crusades for the lower love. This knits together Jane’s earlier expressions of “bodily lowliness” and “in the heart’s pride.” Perhaps suggesting an overcoming of bodily desires through experience rather than rote theory and a mere assumption of what love is.
Perhaps Jane is saying that, when in search of love, one “can be proud and stiff” owing to an ignorance of what Love actually is. But upon encountering Love, one learns that Love is not proud or stiff. Love is, in a sense, like the anus. A canal that controls the removal of waste in the forms of solid, liquid, and gas. That which renders one pure; that which does the lowliest job; that which is least admired, mocked, kept in the dark but which is most necessary to keep one in good health (I have been dying to compare love to an anus for forever).
The poem ends beautifully with the two lines, “For nothing can be sole or whole / That has not been rent.” These are lines that wet the eyes, no? The key words: “sole” can mean underfoot, or alone and archaically refers to the unmarried woman. “whole” translates to the entirety of a unit, the fullness of a being, the complete thing. Then there is “rent” which according to the American Heritage Dictionary means “To use (another’s property) in return for regular payments” or the past participle of rend which translates to “tear or split apart or into pieces violently” or “pierce or disturb with sound” or “cause pain or distress to.” So what is Jane saying?
One of my favorite quotes––credited to one of the authors of The Monster Within, Daniel Saint––says “If you wish to be a warrior prepare to be broken. If you wish to be an explorer, prepare to get lost. If you wish to be a lover, prepare to be both.” For that which is truly sole, is in another sense free of all others. In the standing position, the entire body rests on the sole, a most lonely part of the body, facing away from all of it. Then there is the idea of the “whole.” And what is not “whole” but that which is at ease with its variety, that which is as comfortable with its lowliest point as it is with its highest peak. That which can look both its evil and good straight in the eyes without being overwhelmed. . . perhaps even with indifference? Then there is the “rent” word which could mean the price one pays for living in accordance with one’s values. In Jane’s case, contentedly friendless on the outskirt of her society in a “foul sty.”
So who is really crazy? Jane, living by choice in accordance to her values, neither needing nor wanting anyone’s pity? Or the reputable bishop with his orthodoxy on the good life––a fine example of the genuine fool: one who thinks himself enlightened with a knowledge that lacks meditation and practice; one who does not know and knows not, he knows not; one who holds as wisdom that which he merely parrots without understanding? Of course, it is Jane who is the crazy one. One has to be mad to choose to live as she does!
—
Jane A. Odartey >:p
