D.H. Lawrence’s “Snake” is a profoundly introspective and richly symbolic poem that delves into the complex relationship between humanity and the natural world, the conflict between instinct and societal conditioning, and the subsequent psychological ramifications of such an internal struggle. Penned in 1923, the poem is set against the backdrop of Sicily, a land steeped in ancient myth and primal energy, a setting that profoundly influences the poem’s thematic resonance. Through a vivid narrative of a simple encounter at a water-trough, D.H. Lawrence crafts a powerful allegory for humanity’s persistent struggle to reconcile its rational, educated self with its deeper, more primal instincts, leading to a poignant exploration of guilt, regret, and the loss of connection with the vital forces of life.
The poem opens with an immediate sense of the oppressive heat of the Sicilian summer, establishing a scene of thirst and primal need. The speaker, in his “pyjamas for the heat,” is drawn to his water-trough, only to find it preempted by a magnificent, “earth-brown, earth-golden” snake. This initial encounter is imbued with a sense of quiet reverence and an almost ritualistic waiting. The snake, depicted with exquisite detail, is not immediately presented as a creature of fear but rather one of dignified presence, a “second-comer” deferring to its superior. This opening sets the stage for the poem’s central conflict: the innate human capacity for awe and respect for nature versus the ingrained prejudices and fears imparted by societal norms and education.
The Initial Encounter and the Snake’s Majesty
The poem begins with a deceptively simple premise: a man seeking water encounters a snake at his water-trough on a “hot, hot day.” This mundane act is immediately elevated by the sheer presence of the snake, described with a lyrical quality that hints at its profound significance. Lawrence uses sensory details to paint a vivid picture: “earth-brown, earth-golden from the burning bowels of the earth,” suggesting a creature not merely of the surface but deeply connected to the planet’s core, its ancient energies. The snake’s movements are depicted with a mesmerizing fluidity – “slack-bodied,” it “came over the edge of the stone trough” and “rested his throat upon the stone bottom.” There is an almost balletic grace in its “slowly, slowly, slowly” drinking, a pace that contrasts sharply with the frantic energy of human life.
The speaker’s initial reaction is one of deferential awe. He feels “much like a second-comer waiting,” acknowledging the snake’s priority, an instinctual respect for its right to be there, its primal claim on the water. This moment of quiet communion is crucial, as it establishes the untainted, intuitive response of the human spirit to the natural world, before the interference of learned prejudice. The snake is portrayed with an almost regal dignity, drinking with its “straight black mouth” and then lifting its head “from its drinking, as cattle do,” looking “vaguely, as a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld.” This powerful metaphor elevates the snake beyond a mere reptile, transforming it into a symbol of ancient wisdom, a banished deity, or a profound, forgotten aspect of existence. Its golden hue further connects it to mythic status, wealth, and spiritual illumination, contrasting starkly with the “dreadful hole” into which it will later retreat.
The Internal Conflict: Instinct Versus Education
It is at this point that the poem introduces the central psychological drama: the speaker’s internal struggle. The initial awe and respect are quickly challenged by “the voices of my education.” These voices represent the ingrained societal fears and prohibitions, the rationalized prejudice against creatures deemed dangerous or evil. “A man in a black suit” (a symbol of conventionality and repression) whispers, “If you were not afraid, you would kill him!” This insidious suggestion is a direct assault on the speaker’s nascent reverence. The internal monologue intensifies, with the voices questioning his honour, his courage, and even his sanity for not immediately resorting to violence.
The societal conditioning is personified as a pervasive, judgmental force: “And I must wait, must stand and wait, for there he was at the trough before me.” The repetition of “must wait” underscores the conflict between his natural inclination and the external pressure to conform. The poem highlights the specific prejudice against snakes: “the gold are venomous, black, black snakes are innocent.” This detail, possibly a local superstition or a deliberate falsehood, reinforces the arbitrary nature of human fear and categorization, demonstrating how even seemingly factual knowledge can be used to justify violence and disconnect from nature. The speaker acknowledges this internal turmoil: “A sort of horror, a sort of protest against him / Was working in me.” Yet, paradoxically, he also feels a “kind of honour” for the snake, a deep-seated respect that clashes with the “pettiness” of the voices urging him to kill. This internal dissonance creates a profound sense of shame, not for fearing the snake, but for allowing the “accursed human education” to poison his natural reverence.
Lawrence masterfully uses this internal debate to critique the destructive impact of human intellect when it overrides natural instinct. The “voice of my education” is not presented as a source of wisdom, but rather as an impediment to true understanding and connection. It forces the speaker into a state of indecision and self-contempt, creating a chasm between his conscious, rational mind and his unconscious, empathetic self. The speaker’s shame is amplified by his recognition of the snake’s dignity and his own perceived cowardice for not acting decisively, even though his instinct tells him not to harm it. This paradox underscores the moral dilemma: is it braver to obey a destructive societal norm or to follow one’s deeper, more compassionate impulse?
The Act of Violence and Profound Regret
The tension culminates in an abrupt, almost involuntary act of violence. Despite his earlier reverence and his internal struggle, the speaker yields to the external pressure, or perhaps to a moment of weakness or ingrained fear. “I picked up a clumsy log / And suddenly something at me stirred in me and I threw it at the water-trough with a clatter.” The word “clumsy” is significant; it suggests the awkwardness and crudity of human intervention, a stark contrast to the snake’s graceful presence. The act is impulsive, almost an accident, born more out of frustration and societal pressure than genuine malice. It is a moment of “unconscious pettiness,” a fall from grace.
The snake’s reaction is swift and dignified. It “simply drew its slow length curving round / And climbed again the broken bank,” disappearing “into that dreadful hole.” The term “dreadful hole” not only describes its physical retreat but also metaphorically represents the depths of the earth, the unconscious, or even the lost realm of primal connection. The immediate aftermath is marked by profound regret: “And immediately I regretted it.” This immediate shift in tone is critical. The speaker recognizes the enormity of his mistake, the sacrilege of his act. His action has broken the spell, shattered the moment of natural communion.
The regret is not merely for harming an animal, but for betraying himself, for succumbing to the “voices” that urged him to act against his deeper, more noble instincts. He feels a profound sense of “pettiness,” “vulgarity,” and “meanness.” This self-condemnation is intense, reflecting Lawrence’s own philosophical stance against humanity’s alienation from nature. The speaker laments his lost opportunity to connect with something ancient and vital, likening the snake’s retreat to the loss of a “king in exile,” “uncrowned in the underworld,” a creature whose “crown” of natural majesty he, the human, has unwittingly denied. The echo of Coleridge’s “Ancient Mariner” is palpable when the speaker says, “And I thought of the albatross / And I wished he would come back, my snake.” This comparison elevates the snake to a symbol of spiritual purity and the act of throwing the log to a grave transgression against nature, promising karmic consequences, even if only psychological.
Thematic Resonance and Symbolism
“Snake” is a rich tapestry of interwoven themes, each contributing to its profound impact.
- Nature vs. Civilization: This is the most overt theme. The snake embodies pure, untamed nature – powerful, dignified, self-sufficient, and ancient. The speaker, burdened by his “human education,” represents civilized man, alienated from his instincts and prone to irrational fear and destructive acts. Lawrence passionately critiques how civilization, with its emphasis on intellect and control, disrupts the natural harmony and breeds fear where there should be reverence.
- Instinct vs. Intellect: The internal monologue is a battleground between the speaker’s innate, respectful instinct and the learned, prejudiced dictates of his mind. Lawrence champions instinctual wisdom, suggesting that true understanding comes from a primal, intuitive connection rather than from rational thought alone. The poem mourns the loss of this connection when intellect dominates.
- Guilt and Redemption (or lack thereof): The speaker’s profound regret is the poem’s emotional core. It’s not just guilt for a physical act, but for a spiritual failing. He has lost an opportunity for connection, for honouring a vital force. The poem ends not with redemption, but with the poignant wish for the snake to return, signifying an ongoing yearning for reconciliation.
- Symbolism of the Snake: The snake is a multi-layered symbol.
- Primal Life Force: Its “burning gold” and connection to the “bowels of the earth” suggest an ancient, chthonic energy, representing the fundamental life force itself.
- Unconscious Wisdom: As a creature of the earth and the “underworld,” it can symbolize the subconscious, the collective unconscious, or forgotten wisdom that humanity has suppressed.
- Phallic Symbolism: Lawrence often used snakes to represent potent, untamed sexuality and vital energy, linking them to the subconscious and life-affirming power, distinct from sterile human intellect. Its “slack-bodied” nature and “slow length curving round” can evoke this.
- The Outcast/Misunderstood: Like the speaker himself often felt in society, the snake is a creature feared and reviled by conventional norms, despite its inherent dignity.
- The Divine/Mythic: The “king in exile” metaphor, the reference to the “albatross,” and the Sicilian setting evoke ancient myths where snakes were often revered or seen as guardians of sacred knowledge.
Literary Devices and Structure
Lawrence employs a free verse structure, which allows the poem to flow naturally, mimicking the speaker’s stream of consciousness and the fluid movement of the snake. There is no rigid rhyme scheme or meter, allowing for a conversational yet deeply reflective tone. This freedom also enables Lawrence to use enjambment effectively, creating a sense of continuous thought and dramatic build-up.
- Imagery: The poem is replete with vivid sensory imagery: the “hot, hot day,” “earth-brown, earth-golden,” the “fissures in the earth,” the “dreadful hole.” These images create a strong sense of place and contribute to the poem’s mythic atmosphere.
- Repetition: The repetition of phrases like “hot, hot day” and “voices of my education” serves to emphasize the oppressive heat and the persistent internal conflict, respectively. The repeated “black, black” for the hole deepens the sense of mystery and loss.
- Personification/Anthropomorphism: The snake is repeatedly given human-like qualities and dignity: “a king in exile,” “looked at me vaguely, as cattle do,” “seemed to me like a god.” This elevates the creature and highlights the speaker’s deep connection and regret.
- Allusion: The direct allusion to Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” with the “albatross” explicitly links the speaker’s act to a universal theme of transgression against nature and its profound psychological burden.
- Tone Shift: The poem undergoes a significant tone shift, beginning with awe and curiosity, transitioning to internal conflict and anxiety, culminating in profound regret and self-reproach. This emotional arc mirrors the speaker’s journey of understanding and self-realization.
“Snake” stands as a powerful testament to D.H. Lawrence‘s lifelong preoccupation with the alienating effects of modern civilization on the human psyche and its relationship with the natural world. The poem is a lament for a lost connection, a poignant exploration of how “education” and societal norms can blind individuals to the inherent majesty and vital energy of primal existence. The speaker’s profound regret after his impulsive act of violence is not merely sorrow for harming a creature, but a deeper sorrow for his own capitulation to fear and prejudice, leading to a profound sense of self-betrayal.
The poem ultimately champions a reverence for the wild, the untamed, and the instinctual, qualities that Lawrence believed were being systematically suppressed by an over-intellectualized and overly rationalized human society. The “king in exile” metaphor for the snake suggests that humanity has exiled a vital part of itself, a source of wisdom and potency. The speaker’s final wish for the snake to return is a desperate plea for reconnection, for the reclamation of a primal dignity and an intuitive understanding that modern life has forsaken. “Snake” thus serves as both a critique and a yearning, a powerful poetic statement on the enduring conflict between human consciousness and the raw, untamed essence of life.