Gerard Manley Hopkins-"Felix Randal"

As mentioned in podcast #14, part of the appeal of Gerard Manley Hopkins as a poet is that he produced at least two distinct types of poetry. His earlier works reflect his decision to become a Jesuit and serve as a spiritual exercise. They are generally more upbeat and focus on God and nature. Later in life, however, Hopkins began to question his purpose in life, as he was often sick and his faith was “tested sorely” (773). His poetry became much more pensive as a result. “Felix Randal” is a transitional work; while it still has a Christian theme, the poem has a much more reflective and personal tone than his former works.

In fact, though the title is “Felix Randal”, the poem is just as much and perhaps even more about Hopkins’ ministry. Note that Hopkins’ reaction to the news that Felix is dead is neither sorrow nor joy but a comment that Hopkins own duty toward Felix is “all-ended” (line 1,776). He does not go on to speak of the good times in the man’s life, but rather how his greatness diminished. He describes how he has watched the physical decline of this man, “…his mould of man, big-boned and hardy handsome/pining, pining, till time when reason rambled in it and some/Fatal four disorders, fleshed there, all contended” (lines 2-4,776). Felix Randal was a “farrier” (line 1,776), a blacksmith. It is interesting that his decline suits his profession; he loses his shape like a piece of metal in the forge, becoming amorphous.

The second stanza concentrates on Felix as the object of Hopkins’ ministries. Hopkins gives Felix Extreme Unction, “Sickness broke him. Impatient he cursed at first, but mended/Being anointed and all;…” (lines 5-6,776). Extreme Unction is the final sacrament in the Catholic Church, meant to prepare one’s soul to enter heaven. However, Felix’s attempt to skirt Hell began before the Anointing of the Sick near his deathbed, “though a heavenlier heart began some/Months earlier, since I had our sweet reprieve and ransom/Tendered to him” (lines 6-8,776). Notice that the emphasis is on the sacraments the man has received even more than the attitude change that has occurred. This is not a tale of a deathbed conversion. The focus is not on the dying man, but on Hopkins’ work with the man.

The next stanza is explicitly about Hopkins’ specific ministry to Felix. Hopkins describes the connection between the two of them, “This seeing the sick endears them to us, us too it endears./My tongue had taught thee comfort, touch had quenched thy tears,/Thy tears that touched my heart, child, Felix, poor Felix Randal” (lines 9-12,776). It is interesting that Hopkins portrays the relationship as reciprocal. Hopkins and Felix are both endeared to each other. Felix’s tears which he wipes away touch his heart. That a whole stanza is given to the mutual aspect of the relationship rather than just Hopkins’ one-sided ministry to the man is significant. Perhaps Hopkins was trying to console himself to the idea of ministry, that it was not a constant giving with nothing in return. He needed to know that his personal sufferings had a purpose. Not only that, he wanted his spiritual exercises, his writings, to be missionary. He longed for recognition and was “…preoccupied with his lack of an audience” (774).

The final stanza highlights the difference between the Felix Randal of life versus on his deathbed. In life, Felix Randal was a productive citizen, lively and “boisterous” (line 12,776). His work as a blacksmith garnered him respect, as he was “powerful amidst peers” (line 13,776). However, as he approached death, he seemed the exact opposite: weak, cursing, and unlikeable. Hopkins notes the distinct difference, “How far from then forethought of, all thy more boisterous years” (line 12,776). It is possible that this illustration of a distinct difference in personality and form between youth and old age had its roots in Hopkins’ own disenchantment with his vocation. His later years found him frustrated with a sense of “poetic infertility” (774). In addition, his ministries were tiring, as he later noted, “It made even life a burden to me” (773).

Maybe “Felix Randal” should really be titled “Gerard Manley Hopkins”, as Hopkins seems to have as much trouble reconciling himself to his life as Felix has to his deathbed. Hopkins, like Felix the blacksmith, created much in his early years, but later was overwhelmed by a sense of thwarted purpose. Indeed, the poem focuses more on Hopkins’ reactions and musings on Felix Randal than on Felix Randal himself.