The Legacy of Ozymandias: A Closer Look
‘My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings!’ This powerful exclamation is one of the most recognizable lines in English poetry from the nineteenth century. But who penned these words, and what do they truly signify? Before we delve deeper, let’s engage with a thought-provoking quiz question.
What work of literature is being described here? Published in January 1818, this remarkable piece emerged from a friendly writing competition. It is steeped in the Romantic ideals and political philosophies of its creator, who bore the surname Shelley. The title of the work, which also refers to its central character, has become inextricably linked with its author.
This description could apply to Frankenstein, authored by Mary Shelley, which resulted from a ghost-story competition among her, her husband Lord Byron, and Byron’s physician. Indeed, Frankenstein was published in January 1818. However, it is also the same month when ‘Ozymandias’ was composed by Mary Shelley’s husband, Percy Bysshe Shelley. The line ‘My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings!’ is the focal point of our analysis today. Percy Shelley wrote this poem in competition with his friend Horace Smith, whose own version was published a month later but lacks the same impact.
Published in The Examiner on January 11, 1818, ‘Ozymandias’ stands as one of Percy Bysshe Shelley’s most frequently analyzed works. This sonnet, consisting of just fourteen lines, tackles the grand theme of the rise and fall of civilizations, using the figure of Ozymandias as a potent symbol of this cyclical phenomenon.
Ozymandias is the Greek name for Rameses II, an Egyptian pharaoh who reigned from approximately 1303 BC to 1213 BC. This places him several centuries before the legendary epic poet Homer is believed to have lived, which underscores the antiquity of the subject matter. Notably, this Rameses is often speculated to be the Pharaoh who oppressed the Israelites in the biblical narrative of Moses. Although the Bible does not explicitly name the Pharaoh, Exodus 1:11 mentions that ‘for Pharaoh’ there were ‘treasure cities’ built named Pithom and Raamses. Therefore, while we cannot assert this with absolute certainty, it is quite likely that the Pharaoh from whom Moses sought freedom inspired Shelley’s poem.
In essence, Rameses II was a formidable and influential ruler, making Shelley’s inscription, ‘My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings!’, all the more fitting. Now, let us turn our attention to the poem itself and delve deeper into the significance of these words.
The sonnet is narrated by a man who encounters a traveler from a distant land. This traveler recounts the sight of the remnants of an enormous statue that stands desolate in the desert:
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: ‘Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
What words are inscribed? This brings us to the poignant line quoted at the beginning of this piece: “My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
The traveler continues by revealing that an inscription adorns the pedestal of the statue’s remnants. This inscription, ‘My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings!’, carries an ironic weight, as the empire of Ozymandias/Rameses has long since faded into oblivion, leaving only the ruins of his grand statue as a testament to his once-mighty civilization.
Thus, while the declaration ‘My name is Ozymandias’ initially resonates with a thunderous sense of triumph, time has stripped Ozymandias of that glory. He and his empire have vanished into history.
The proclamation ‘Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!’ is similarly intended to convey a sense of victory and instill fear in all who read it. Yet, for contemporary readers, it has transformed into a statement filled with irony and melancholy. Where once the inscription inspired awe and trepidation among its initial audience, it now evokes a sense of pity for the fallen king and his long-lost empire.