Primarily, the apple is a symbol of knowledge, both good and bad. It is both the fruit of the Tree of Life and of the Tree of Knowledge; it is representative of either a "unifying knowledge which grants immortality or of a disjunctive knowledge which initiates the Fall" (Chevalier 36). In Celtic folklore, which Blake drew upon for his Druidic imagery, the apple appears and is as important there as it is in the Christian faith. It is the "fruit of knowledge, magic and prophecy. It also provides miraculous food" (Chevalier 36). Ultimately, however, the "rounded shape of the apple symbolizes Earth-bound passions or their fulfillment. Divine prohibition was meant to warn mankind against being mastered by those passions which would lead through a species of regression to a materialistic way of life . . . The apple is therefore the symbol of that knowledge and of being placed under the obligation of making a choice" (Chevalier 36-37).
Erdman In one copy (U) of this illustration the bird at flying near the word 'SONGS' carried a yellow apple in its beak (Erdman 42). Especially when one observes that Adam and Eve, plus fig leaves, are depicted at the foot of the page, it is blatantly obvious that this apple refers to the apple which caused the Fall. In other words, this particular apple is not a symbol of good knowledge.
The children here are sheltered by an apple tree twined loosely with a vine. Erdman notes that "the tree would represent the adult's teaching, the vine the children's learning" (44). This statement exists in perfect accordance with the use of the apple to represent some sort of knowledge, but we are left to wonder whether the apples that will eventually be given to the children are poisonous or benign.
Erdman identifies the tree leaning protectively over the children as an apple tree, and he suggest that it does not bear fruit because the happiness in the "present play" is all the fruit that is needed (65). One should also note that the Nurse, representative of learning or knowledge, is more closely identified with the tree than the children. Perhaps the children have not yet been gifted--or contaminated--with the apples of knowledge.
This "Rose-tree" is very definitely not a rose tree, though it can be either an apple or a birch tree (Erdman 85). If it is an apple tree, then the knowledge of negative emotions--such as jealousy--and love presented in the poem would seem to suggest a Tree of Knowledge, bearing very negative and poisonous fruit.
Erdman notes that "Wrath without pity . . . can grow into a tree of death--like but not identical to the Tree of Mystery grown by the human brain (Plate 47). The tree pictured is something like the birch of Plate 47, more like the tree of Plate 41 in its extending like a vault over the dead body beneath it, but we must accept it as a poison apple tree. That it grew from the suppressed wrath of the speaker, and not really out of the ground, is shown by a coup de theatre managed by Blake as designer. From the ironic word 'My' in the last line--ironic in that 'My foe,' my ultimate possession, is now nothing and no longer mine--a small twig grows, up the page, enclosing the title, and expanding down the right margin, to become a tree of seventy years' growth, rooted in the earth and dying" (91). The poisonous apple, suggested in earlier Songs has here matured. Unfortunately.
Here a body decays into the earth, overlooked by several apples, born aloft by a branch and added
by the border on each side (Erdman 94). One must
observe that the "Death of Jesus," mentioned in the poem and perhaps described by the illustration,
was necesitated when Adam and Eve consumed their own version of the poisonous Apple. The poem, too, seems
to deal with various sorts of knowledge, which are perhaps gathered together and expressed
in the unique symbol of the apple.
The apple tree of experience consistently bears "poisonous fruit, if any at all. In The Four Zoas, Tharmas recalls his separation from Enion almost in terms of the Fall, for Enion turned away, he laments, 'Among the apple trees & all the gardens of delight / Swam like a dream before my eyes' (94.2-3). albion laments, 'The Corn is turnd to thistles & the apples into poison' (119.42). The tree of 'A Poison Tree' shows only speary twigs, but beneath is stretched the 'foe' who has eaten the 'apple bright' (E, p.28). This apple is doubtless the fruit of the Tree of Mystery 'in the Human Brain,' 'the fruit of Deceit, / Ruddy and sweet to eat' (E, p. 27)" (Baine 139-140).
Unfortunately, the bamboo is a limited plant, at least as far as one considers its symbolic
meanings--or lack thereof. Unlike the apple, it appears in relatively few religions, of which
Buddhism is the best known. Its straightness and upward growth frequently symbolize the
"character and meditative practices of Buddhists and especially of
Taoists" and the rustle of bamboos was occasionally seen
as a sign of enlightenment(Chevalier 65).
More interestingly, at least from a Blakean standpoint, is the fact that it was used to
drive off evil influences. As well, the bamboo clump was regarded as a sort of generic
barrier, and was seen as "'the jungle of
sinners'" (Chevalier 65). Finally, the "duality
of male and female bamboo is a symbol of mutual attachment and conjugal
unity" (Chevalier 66).
The bamboo, in comparison to other Blakean trees, like the oak or the willow, is simply not very important. It occurs only in the second illustration to "Night", and there it is only used as a border. Erdman notes that the border here "consists of formal brackets at the top and bamboo poles at the sides, with three balls, then some green stems and leaves" (62).
One should first note that Pliny believed that the "birch came originally from Gaul. It was, he wrote, 'a cause of terror, as supplying the magistrates' rods of office; it is also easily bent to make hoops and likewise the ribs of small baskets.' He added that it was 'the most auspicious tree for supplying wedding torches' (Natural History 16:30). In both instances the birch is closely linked with human life as a guardian symbol in life as in death" (Chevalier 87). The birch's significance as a heavenly symbol emerges elsewhere. It is "sometimes connected with the Moon and even with both Moon and Sun. In the latter event it is dual-natured, both father and mother, male and female. The birch plays a protective role, or rather it is the means by which heavenly influences 'come down'" (Chevalier 86). In the Celtic world, the birch probably served some sort of funerary purpose (Chevalier 86).
The birch tree of this illustration is leafless, though the oak opposite is not (Erdman 77). The birch does lean protectively over Lyca, symbolic perhaps of the tree's role as guardian. Perhaps the birch here also suggests the possiblity of death; Lyca is certainly in danger, of one sort or another.
The birch of this poem, seen at the right, invites "readers of 'The Little Vagabond'--Plate 45--to identify 'modest dame Lurch' here" (Erdman 82). The trees of this illustration suggest entrapment, obscured vision and painful captivity (Erdman 82). Perhaps this is an extreme and negative form of the protective, guardian nature of the birch.
Perhaps this birch suggests Pliny's matrimonial interpretation of the birch; the love of the "youthful pair" is certainly one of the poem's largest focuses. Yet the birch tree is, for the most part, barren; the young love has been stifled, if not outright killed, by an overbearing adult. Once more, protective guardianship, also suggested by the tree, has been taken entirely too far.
The Chestnut has very, very little significance as a general symbol, though in
Ancient China it did have some associations with foresight, as its nuts were eaten as winter
food; the sweet chestnut also corresponded with west and
Autumn (Chevalier 189).
Chestnuts, or Chestnut leaves, are not a favorite Blakean symbol. As illustrations, they occur only in Plates 10 and 14 of Marriage, and even there do not receive much attention. Erdman notes that leaves of grape and chestnut are contrasted with elm leaves in Plate 10. In the center of Plate 14, chestnut leaves and burs follow a line ending "sensual enjoyment" (107, 111). One is left to wonder at the possible connections between chestnuts and sensuality, though perhaps the association is drawn from Blake's own life and not from the general symbolism of the chestnut tree.
The elm tree occurs in Blake's illustrations only slightly more frequently than the chestnut. Most notably, the elm is part of the illustration to "The Little Girl Found" 2 (Experience). Here, two "tightly embracing elms can grow old together, their trunks kept leafy by vines" (Erdman 78). Perhaps this is a reflection of the Greek myth of Baucis and Philemon (see section on The Religious Tree for this myth).
In the Book of Ahania, the fig tree acts as a symbol of prosperity. "My ripe figs and rich pomegranates" are "infant joy" (5.26-27). "The puritanical Hand and Hyle of course condemn the 'sinful delights' beneath the Vine and Fig-tree' (Jerusalem, 18.16, 19). With the advent of Job's new spiritual awareness, the fig tree of Plate 19 now flourishes nad bears fruit, and Job and his wife sit humbly beneath it upon a grassy mound" (Baine 140).
The Fatal Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, is frequently represented by fig trees or
fig leaves in Blake, as one can see with the Songs General Title Page above. Its leaves
often cover strategical areas of a fallen Adam and Eve. But is the fig lent an even harsher
guise? Is it the genuine fruit of the Tree of Mystery?
Baine notes that one "cannot, however, always positively
indentify the fruit of the fatal Tree of Mystery, for on it grew 'shining fruit' 'of many
colours & of various poisonous qualities / Of Plagues hidden in shining globes
that grew on the living
tree' (FZ 82.20-2, 21-22)" (Baine 140-141).
Once again a tree becomes a mere border decoration. In "A Poison Tree", the border's bottom corner is fenced with "angular thorny briars criss-crossed by strands of leaves like green holly" (Erdman 91).
There is extreme emphasis upon oaks in this particular Song. Erdman notes that a "child lies dead on the ground, a gowned mother stands apalled under a barren oak . . . In the margin gigantic oak leaves displaced from the barren tree grow green above and below a weeping woman and two children, a boy hiding his eyes, a girl clinging to her. Below, a half upside down cruciform figure lies fallen among oak leaves and spear grass . . . " (75). Erdman also suggests that this is a "picture of what adults have made of Ascension Day, of the rising of man as God" (75). This interpretation conforms to the general symbolism of the oak; if the oak represents power, especially male power, women and children seem to have paid a large price for the loss of their importance or equality.
Here the oak tree appears in its incarnation as the World Tree or Axis Tree. Though it does not support the entire world in this illustration, it does uphold the village and a sense of community. Erdman observes that the "old folk sitting under a flourishing oak (in a park of trees) are two men with brimmed hats . . . and two mothers . . . each tending a pair of weary or restless children" (47).
Once again the oak serves as the supportive World (or Village) Tree. Erdman observes that the "village oak stands beside the thatched cottage; the high-arching spirit of the foreground trees prevents any Urizenic oak grove domination" (49).
Here again we see a village oak. A feast has been spread, and people have gathered beneath the boughs of the oak tree (Erdman 56).
The Oak Tree can symbolize either benign protection or unhappy sacrifice. The oak, when seen alone and surrounding a group of people, serves as the village oak, which Urizen remembers in the Four Zoas as a joyful image: "when laughter sat beneath the Oaks & innocence spread round" (73.1) (Baine 142). Yet Blake also drew upon biblical and druidic mythology to form an oak of sacrifice. "The oak grove is also the place of human sacrifice. The Druid temples are 'Patriarchal Pillars & Oak Groves.' The 'House of Death' exists among the rooted Oaks: / Among reared Albions Sons"(Jerusalem 27. 38, 80, 81-82) . . . This religion is also one of military aggression. In Jerusalem Albions's sons are 'Carried in Arks of Oak before the armies in the spring'; and 'blood and wounds and dismal cries' occur under 'the shadows of the oak' (21.45; 65.51) . . . Taken all together these characteristics of the oak constitute the 'Oak of weeping' which, like the palm, stands upon the 'edge of Beulah' (23.24, 25), man's inevitable suffering in arborized Experience (Baine 144).
In western traditions, the tree typically represents feelings of grief and is associated with death. Yet, the willow, because of its vitality, is also a symbol of Law. Branches cut from the main tree and subsequently planted have the ability to revive and grow; the main tree, of course, remains undivided (Chevalier 1110). The male willow bears no fruit and is sometimes seen as a symbol of purity; on the other hand, because of its 'willowy' (gracefulness, primarily) nature, the comparison between the female form and the tree's shape has become fairly common-place (Chevalier 1110). Finally, willows sometimes have a "sacred and protective character and are associated with miraculous births. According to the Spartans, Diana was found in a willow clump, and the Ancient Egyptians believed that Osiris enjoyed the same privilege, while Moses was found floating on the waters of the Nile in a willow basket. The leading role of the Logos or Word seems to have been symbolized both in East and West, in analoguous way, by the willow" (Chevalier 1110).
The willow does not make a direct appearance here; rather, a number of things mimic the appearance of the willow that does appear in the next plate. In several copies, the "foliage is stripped from the smaller tree at right . . . perhaps also to associate that tree more particularly with the willow that bends in the same way over Christ and the children in the next plate . . . the flourish of sheltering foliage that grows over the title word 'Boy' repeats again the willow's bending, emblematic of the suffering of Christ and all mankind as well as of his mercy" (Erdman 50).
Erdman identifies this tree as a "willow of paradise,"
rooted in a bank which forms a seat for Christ (51).
Erdman describes this as "a half-fallen willow [that] hangs like rain over a pool"; it is suggestive of the willow of paradise from Plate 10. Erdman continues, saying it is illustrative of the "paradisal spirit of the lines beside it: 'we cannot go to sleep . . birds fly . . hills are all coverd wiht sheep' (10-12)" (65).
Though the Biblical willow was usually representative of joy, in Blake it suggests "sorrow or sterility. Blake associated it particularly with the suffering of Christ" (Baine 146).