From years of socio-political unrest paving the way for the rise of the communist movement, the Russian Revolution demonstrated the power that lies in the people’s collective when faced with injustice. Revolting against authorities and establishing a new social order also became a metaphorical mission for seeking pleasure and peace in the lives of individuals, for society as a collective. Americans, separated from the Revolution both geographically and politically, turned to more abstract forms of expression Conrad Aiken’s erotic poem, Red is the Color of Blood, draws attention to the re-emerging motif of pleasure seeking in revolutions and introduces a romanticized and international perspective on the Russian Revolution through its recurring symbolization of the color red set in a revolutionary and intimate setting.

While the use of color in this poem has explicitly erotic purposes, it also evokes the ideas of class, luxury, and ownership central to revolution. Aiken effectively employs the color red to concurrently represent love and revolution. While describing the color of roses and a person blushing, red is seen through a romantic lens; on the other hand “rising red” and the repetition of blood give the poem a distinctly revolutionary tone, emphasizing anger and violence. Similarly, green is a repeating motif, both in sexual terms and revolutionary terms (Aiken, 29). The color evokes imagery of life, reproduction and husbandry, but also greed and jealousy. Green also provides an interesting contrast to red, which is opposite on the color wheel, and is an alternative presentation of labor–industrial versus agricultural. Throughout the passage the author alludes to the colors of the sun as both a life-source and thus representative of relationships and lust. Both white and gold also represent indulgence and luxury by referring to warmth, honey, and candlelight. By drawing a parallel between erotic language and aspects of revolution through the imagery of color, Aiken present ideas about class, luxury, and ownership in an intimate context.

However, ownership is not just a glittery, romantic utopia for Aiken, as revealed by his violent language. His closing stanzas border on sexual sadism, writing “I would tear your [mouth] petal from petal with slow murder.” Flowers traditionally symbolize innocence, reproduction, and fertility; he is not only making a romantic confession here, but a threat. He wants to, literally, “deflower” this woman. Aiken deprives her of a voice–ownership of her own story. It is unclear who this woman is and how she reacts, because Aiken’s entire narration is his own fantasy. All she gets are the “you” pronouns he writes for her. This is perhaps what he wants from her: silence. In the second to last stanza, he writes, “You smile at me—say nothing. You are wise.” Her lack of ability to consent, her innocence and unawareness, is attractive to Aiken. The final stanza reaches a climax with her sexual undoing. It reads:

For I think of you, flung down brutal darkness;

Crushed and red, with pale face.

I think of you, with your hair disordered and dripping,

And myself, rising red from that embrace.

Aiken imagines her as weak, unclean, and conquered. In contrast, he is allowed to rise from her body. He imagines this sexual encounter in the language of a revolution. The themes of revolutions around the world–overcoming, the color red, violence, and liberation–are present in this violent sex scene. He is seizing what is rightfully his and views it as a triumph over oppression (see “rising red”) Aiken is likely not literally romanticizing rape, but he is describing the events of revolution in the image of a rape. Revolution is an example of the public invading and undoing the sanctity of private interactions. Acknowledging his abstract, psychological perspective on revolution, and how Aiken’s background influences this point of view, is critical to reading this poem as a revolutionary one.

Influenced by his American upbringing under democratic American ideals, Conrad Aiken’s Red Is the Color of Blood interprets the Russian Revolution from an outside perspective that is both psychological and sensationalizing of the communist movement. Raised American, Aiken uniquely presents the viewpoint of the West regarding the emergence of communism in Russia. He romanticizes communism through the narrator’s meditations on (and arguably obsession with) sex, as in “rising red” or his “madness for red” (Aiken, 29; 11). The romanticization throughout the poem creates a sense of hopefulness for the people of the Russian Revolution. The author is “courting” the revolution as he lusts after the subject like he would a partner. Finally, the poem is concluded with imagery of rising above, which hints to Aiken’s hope for the people’s social revolution. Aiken’s traumatic childhood and the presence of Freudian themes in this poem again present the revolution in an intimate context. Aiken’s discovery of his parents’ bodies at the age of 11 after his father committed a murder-suicide likely influenced his erotic writing (Poetry Foundation). In this poem, rather than showcasing the collective experience of public-facing revolutionaries, he describes a highly private setting. The invasion of his homely domestic sphere that forced him to relocate from Georgia to Massachusetts as a child might explain why he uses intimacy as a lens to write about larger subjects.

There may be Chaos still around the World by George Santayana, one of Aiken’s beloved teachers at Harvard University, similarly addresses global strife within the context of the psychological, private spaces. Santayana writes:

There may be chaos still around the world,

This little world that in my thinking lies;

For mine own bosom is the paradise

Where all my life’s fair visions are unfurled (Santayana, 1-4)

Although he describes disorder around the globe, he qualifies it immediately by calling it “this little world.” By using a diminutive adjective to describe the world, Santayana places disarray in a context of intimacy and even infancy. In the same sentence, he uses the verb “lies,” which brings up the imagery of a bedroom and rest–scenes familiar to Aiken’s poem, as well. The phrases “my own bosom” and “life’s fair visions” makes the poem physical and sensory, again emphasizing the private nature of his poetry. The word “unfurled” describes the process of revealing something previously kept secret, and even implies sexuality, just as Aiken did (with less subtlety). The poem continues: “​​Within my nature’s shell I slumber curled,” (5) bridging the earthly experience with the personal. Here, he reiterates the state of sleep and security. The final lines of the poem conclude with his peaceful slumber:

or if the subtle night

Haunt me with deities I never saw,

I soon mine eyelid’s drowsy curtain draw

To hide their myriad faces from my sight.

They threat in vain; the whirlwind cannot awe

A happy snow-flake dancing in the flaw. (Santayana, 9-14)

The foreboding language of “haunt,” “threat,” and “whirlwind” highlight Santayana’s acceptance of peace. The “happy snow-flake” is innocent and ignorant, and any evil is in vain. In this way, Santayana’s emphasis on privacy and intimacy can be read as a revolutionary in and of itself: choosing respite over fear.

Through Aiken’s American upbringing, foreign view, and symbolism through colors, he is able to express his thoughts on the revolutionary action with the addition of erotic imagery and romanticism. Similarly, Santayana expresses the intimacy of revolution through the juxtaposition in the language of his poem. Reading these poems together, which both describe the sanctity of private spaces and importance of preserving them, reveal a larger truth about the American psyche. Public turmoil was seen as at best, a superficial distraction, and at worst, a violent rape. These two poems teach that the social revolutions unfolding in the 19th and 20th centuries were wholly incompatible with American private life, even for intellectuals and artists like Santayana and Aiken.

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