Blog Post #3: Yeats

In a recent class, an off-hand reference to the notorious William Butler Yeats sparked a multitude of connections within my brain. For a while now, ever since coming across “Rosicrucianism” in A History of Magic, Witchcraft, and the Occult, I had been longing to figure out where I had heard that darned word before. And so, as anyone can now surmise, my severely limited knowledge of W. B. Yeats was the answer.

This severely limited knowledge was developed in a wonderful English class I took last year on 20^th Century Irish Literature. Taught by the amazing Professor Steele, our class explored the rich literary history “the island of saints and sages” possesses, affording special attention to the impact its prose and poems had in the nation’s ensuing revolutions (Joyce). However, these writings did not emerge out of happenstance. In fact, this so-called “Irish Revival” began intentionally in the late 1800s in order to stimulate a country-wide return to Irish roots and, in turn, a rejection of England’s cultural encroachment. And, with the establishment of the Abbey Theater by Lady Gregroy and the aforementioned Yeats in 1899, such a revival was in full force. Once known as the Irish Literary Theater, this institution was the first of its kind in Ireland, not only employing Irish actors but Irish playwrights as well, playwrights whose rhetoric would soon carry an increasingly nationalistic sentiment.

So, along with co-founding the Abbey, Yeats penned many plays that reinforced this sense of Irish independence. Perhaps the most famous example of this is his play Cathleen ni Houlihan (1902), although there is much debate about how much he actually wrote. Still, in it, the titular character is an old woman who enters the home of a typical Irish family during the United Irish Uprising of 1798, a failed yet fondly remembered revolution inspired by those in America and France. Personifying Ireland, Cathleen coaxes the men of fighting age in the house into battle, stating: “They who have red cheeks will have pale cheeks for my sake, and for all that, they will think they are well paid” (Yeats). It is said that those in attendance on opening night were so enraptured by the play’s sentiment that, afterwards, they ran out onto the streets of Dublin and violently engaged with English police. Many lost their lives that night, but it was still only a predilection of what was to come for Ireland and the Abbey.

Despite the clear sense of nationalism exuded by this play, as well as in his subsequent works, Yeats had a complex relationship with Irish nationalism. Whether because of a legitimate change to his political ideals or because of a wounded ego caused by a lack of recognition, Yeats grew much more conservative in his later years, even serving as a senator for the Irish Free State (which, in spite of the name, was not supported by many Irish nationalists). In a sense though, there were three main reasons Yeats was never really accepted by the wider Irish populace. One, Yeats was technically Anglo-Irish, which means he derives from the landed elite, not the poor Irish folk he catered to. Two, because of this background, Yeats possessed an over-developed sense of self and was often perceived as arrogant. Three, Yeats had a fascination with the occult, a fascination that neither endeared him to Catholics nor to Protestants.

My research on Yeats from that class ended there. However, for this class, I investigated his extracurricular practices further. As I mentioned, Rosicrucianism was how I originally heard of Yeats’s interest, but he is connected to many other class topics as well. First and foremost, he was an active member of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, being officially involved in some capacity from 1885 to 1921. Throughout that time, he established a chapter in Dublin, recruited multiple members, and even assisted Aleister Crowley during the Battle of Blythe Road. Yeats was also informally involved with the Theosophical Society, sitting in on many seances during his time with the influential Mohini Chatterjee. All in all, then, Yeats’s fingerprints are visible in various subsections of the late 19^th and early 20^th century occult scene. Curiously, however, there is no connection between him and Cheiro, another famous Irish mystic. Perhaps, like me, Yeats simply despised palmistry.