It seemed plain to Blake that reason and rationality could only peer so deeply into the universe’s hidden truths and that one needed imaginative creativity and faith to rise above what the classics deemed the hoi-polloi. As with everything else to which Blake bent his mind–his intention was revolution within the paradigm. He was a contrarian. He lived a life Christopher Hitchens would much later describe of his own–that he would, "Seek out argument and disputation for their own sake; the grave will supply plenty of time for silence. The only way to have an independent existence is to cultivate an adversarial relationship with the world. One should try to live at an angle to society, not be flattened by it." So of course Blake’s conception of which intellectual pursuits would elevate one to the hoi-aristoi is from the perspective of the classic Greek thinkers inverted. Peter Ackroyd renders Blake’s position here in rather romantic terms. He tells us Blake, "believed that reason and material forms were artificial constraints on our truly spiritual forms, driven by our imagination."
Did his intellectual bellicosity and stubborn insistence to painstakingly beat his own philosophical path bear fruit in his writing? Certainly his is a singular voice and in the space of art perhaps that in and of itself is a fruitful yield. Though if we were to look into the substance of his writing for singular insights would we find any that revolutionize their paradigm? Well, in much of Blake’s writing–and certainly in most of it which concerns figures of authority–is shown a chafing resistance to all forms of external control over one’s expression of creativity, their intellectual development and their physical freedom. This is certainly not a unique perspective, but I will make the argument that Blake told it in a singular way.
William Blake’s Songs of Experience stand as a profound critique of institutional oppression and the stifling of individual creativity. Through his poetry and engravings, Blake reveals a world where natural joy, curiosity, and artistic expression are crushed by authoritarian structures—whether religious, political, or educational. The poems A Little BOY Lost, London, and The School Boy each illustrate, in different ways, the tragic consequences of creative suppression. Blake’s message is clear: the world of experience, as opposed to innocence, is one of constraint, where society’s rigid structures suffocate the human spirit.
In A Little BOY Lost, Blake presents the tragic fate of a child who dares to think and speak freely, only to be met with the violent hand of religious authority which chains him and sends him from this mortal realm with something of a flare. The poem depicts a boy expressing an independent thought: “Nought loves another as itself, Nor venerates another so.” This simple assertion, a reflection on the self-centered nature of love, is met with outrage by the priestly figure, who is this poem’s stand-in for intellectual dogmatism and is immediately found guilty of heresy. The consequence of this independent thought is severe—the boy is condemned to death, his voice silenced in the most brutal manner. The boy represents the unfiltered imagination of youth, unbounded by the intellectual walls erected by a master.
This abstraction of independence versus dogma might be one layer of meaning so powerful and seductive that one may settle for such an evocative, yet suspiciously easy reading. The priest could have been any zealot. His execution illustrates how religious institutions historically sought to control and limit creative and philosophical inquiry. Blake, a fierce critic of organized religion, sees such restriction as an assault on the divine nature of human expression. The engraving accompanying this poem further underscores this idea. It shows a crowd of cowed people supplicating themselves before hellfire with a lone figure standing behind them looking up into nature.
Perhaps the most direct depiction of creative and spiritual restriction in Songs of Experience is found in London. This poem paints a bleak portrait of a city choked by oppression, its inhabitants shackled by “mind-forg’d manacles.” This phrase is key to understanding Blake’s perspective on creative restriction: it is not merely external forces that limit human expression but also internalized oppression—the learned constraints imposed by a corrupt society. The poem’s structure mirrors its theme of restriction. It shows an uncharacteristic adherence to strict meter, rhyme and heavy repetition, “In every cry of every Man, In every Infant’s cry of fear,” to create an inescapable rhythm that mimics the suffocating constraints to which he is endlessly sensitive, and also of London itself. The creative spirit, symbolized by the innocent voices of children and the natural desires of men and women, is systematically crushed under the weight of institutional power.
The engravings for London depict a nightmarish urban landscape, reinforcing the imagery of imprisonment and desolation. Blake’s lamentation of creative suppression in London extends beyond poetry; it is an artistic critique of the industrial and political forces of his time. The city, once a place of cultural and intellectual flourishing, has become a prison for the human mind. The “black’ning Church” and “palace walls” dripping with blood signify the complicit roles of religious and governmental authorities in not only maintaining this oppression but themselves being original sources. In this sense, London not only critiques the past but serves as a warning against the dangers of allowing institutions to dictate the boundaries of human thought and artistic endeavor.
If government and religion are the seething havens of doctrine and conformity then surely the education system would stand out as a beacon of resistance, a ready weapon against thought control. Well, here Blake mounts one of his characteristic revolts against the paradigm. For him education was religion by another name. It was ugly industry for the mind. Blake contrasts the boundless joy of a child in nature—where the “birds sing on every tree” and the “distant huntsman winds his horn”—with the dreary confines of a schoolroom, where learning is reduced to a lifeless, mechanical exercise. The child’s lament, “How can the bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing?” perfectly encapsulates Blake’s view that traditional education stifles rather than nurtures creative growth. This critique aligns with Blake’s broader philosophical stance that true wisdom and artistic expression emerge from nature and unfettered imagination rather than rigid academic instruction.
The child, symbolic of artistic and intellectual potential, is forced into an environment that drains his vitality, much like the restrictive societal structures seen in London and A Little BOY Lost. The engraving that accompanies The School Boy emphasizes this trammelling of spirit with a depiction of three rather etiolated children being bowed by the very words of the poem.
Through A Little BOY Lost, London, and The School Boy, Blake illustrates a world where creative and intellectual freedom is continuously threatened by forces external and within one’s own mind. These poems do not merely lament this reality but also call for resistance not merely at the abstract idea of authority or even authoritarianism. His enemies had names: religious dogma, political oppression, and restrictive education. Political sedition was not uncommon in artistic circles so perhaps that would not merit the distinction of being revolutionary. Religious sedition was certainly more dangerous and as it is an incredibly fertile ground for tenacious and backward ideas taking root perhaps his rebellion there should merit such a distinction. However it is the fight against his third enemy–found in The School Boy–which elevates his contrarian soul and his singular voice to a truly paradigm revolutionizing pitch. What intellectual attacks formal education? The greatest advantage that our species has over all others is our ability to learn and pass down our knowledge for the next generation to build upon. It’s the only way Blake could have the system of glyphs that we call writing, in a system of grammar that we call language such that he could even express these ideas to us. It is precisely because of formal education that his work has endured through the centuries. It’s mad–but it is undeniably a thought from one who lives their life at an angle to society. And because of that he was able to create art that proved to me that to create art that provokes and inspires one cannot live within convention. You need not agree with Blake or want to fight all of his enemies by his side to be awed by his creative fruits.
Blake’s Songs of Experience are ultimately a call to arms for the liberation of the human spirit. By exposing the mechanisms of restriction, he urges his readers to break free from these societal constraints and reclaim the imaginative and artistic birthright of humanity. In doing so, he not only critiques his own time but leaves a timeless message that remains relevant in any era where creativity is threatened by the forces of conformity and control.
This might seem obvious, but one of Blake’s most singular aspects was his combination of poetry and visual art. How many other people are important figures in the studies of both art history and literature?
You make me want to go back to reading Blake. Thank you.