Wallace Stevens (October 2, 1879 – August 2, 1955 / Pennsylvania / United States)

The Planet On the Table unlocks with two keys: Planet is Steven's Collected Poems; Ariel is the poet,
Wallace Stevens.

“Ariel” seems to me an odd choice for the name of the character/focus of this poem. The word comes from the Hebrew, meaning “Lion of God.” It is a name sometimes associated with Jerusalem. (See, e.g., Isaiah 29: 1-7) . There is an archangel named Ariel, the angel of healing, Earth, and creation. Ariel is also one of the moons of Uranus, but I’m afraid I do not know why Stevens would single it out here. He might have selected Ariel simply because it is extremely distant and remote. It is not the largest of Uranus's moons, but neither is it the smallest. One could argue, I suppose, that Ariel is one of the least-important features of our solar system. That is just a guess, however.

Ariel’s poems are “makings of the sun, ” which hold special nostalgic value to the poet. They may have no value at all to anyone else (but see below, re their “affluence”) . Other makings of the sun, for example, are “waste and welter, ” or waste, confusion, and turmoil. Death is part of that waste and welter, for the “ripe shrub writhed, ” presumably in death. (BTW, I love the alliteration and internal rhyme of that line.)

Ariel’s poems, however, are not only makings of the sun; they are also “makings of his self, ” because he and the sun “were one.” Unity and the philosophical concept of “the One” are themes found in various poems by Stevens. Cf., Continual Conversation with a Silent Man. The sun and a small moon at the edge of the solar system are “one.” Despite our impermanence, can we as humans be any less than a part of that “oneness? ” (This may also say something about the creative process, and the need for an artist to be in touch with the Jungian collective consciousness.)

The idea that Ariel’s poems are makings of the sun imparts a sense of permanence to them. Stevens, however, undercuts this notion in the last two stanzas when he says, “It was not important that they survive.” It is only important that they bear some distinctive feature or characteristic (lineament) , some wealth or affluence “if only half-perceived.” Stevens (or rather, Ariel) is not seeking immortality in his work; only some degree of value “in the poverty of [its] words.” He will be content if his work is discovered by chance, and even partially understood. There is recognition of the smallness of Ariel’s life, the vastness of the universe, and the impermanence of anything human.

Still, Ariel’s poetry does maintain some importance in the overall scheme of things. It is of the same importance as a planet. His work amounts to a planet on the table; nowhere near the physical size of a planet, but no less important.

Note that it is the work that is important, not Ariel.

This is one of the last poems contained in Stevens’ Collected Poems. It seems to be a fitting summation of the poet’s attitude toward, and aspirations for, his work.