In this sonnet
Shakespeare compares his mistress' eyes to the sun. He makes the case that her
eyes are very different from the sun. Though the sun is beautiful and glowing,
it has little in common with his mistress' eyes. Though they may be beautiful,
reality is that they can't be compared to the sun. In short, the eyes are
nothing if compared with the sun.
Shakespeare's
expression of love was far different from traditional sonnets, in which poets
highly praised their loved ones with sweet words. Instead, Shakespeare
satirizes the tradition of comparing one's beloved to the beauties of the sun.
From its opening phrase "My
mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun" shocks us -maybe also the
audience- because it does not portray a soft, beautiful woman. Despite the
negative connotations of his mistress, Shakespeare speaks a true woman and true
love.
Moreover, other parts of nature are very different from parts of his
mistress. For example, coral has a very different shade of red from his
mistress' lips and no roses are present in his mistress' cheeks. This differs
from the words of some men who claim that their women have the light of the sun
in their eyes, coral lips and rosy cheeks. Shakespeare expresses that though
men might make these comparisons, they aren't accurate, and at least not when
he gazes upon his mistress. When he speaks of perfume, he notes that at times
her breath reeks. Many perfumes have a sweeter fragrance.
Shakespeare expresses
the reality that one's breath is not always perfect and one does not always
look spectacular. Over time the attraction that brings people too closer can
wane. In fact, physical attraction is not constant or stable.
SONNET 130
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are
dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her
head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress
reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the
ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.


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