
Proserpine 1874
Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Public
domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Public
domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Introduction: The Myth of Proserpine in Art
Few mythological subjects have captivated artists across centuries as powerfully as the story of Proserpine, the Roman goddess abducted by Pluto and condemned to divide her existence between the underworld and the earth.
Her myth embodies duality: light and shadow, desire and consequence, fertility and barrenness. In 1874, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, one of the leading figures of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, painted Proserpine, a work that not only reinterpreted this ancient story but also infused it with the personal tensions of his own life and the cultural concerns of Victorian England.
The 1874 version of Proserpine is one of Rossetti’s most acclaimed works. With its haunting gaze, rich symbolism, and fusion of poetry and painting, it epitomizes the late style of the Pre-Raphaelite master.
Over time, the painting has become both an artistic icon and a key object in the art market, with related versions and studies achieving significant auction records.
This essay explores the painting in depth: its visual and symbolic language, its artistic specialities, its journey through the auction world, and its place among similar works by Rossetti’s contemporaries. We will also compare it critically with Frederick Sandys’ Medea (1866–68) and Edward Burne-Jones’ The Beguiling of Merlin (1872–77), two works that reveal how Victorian artists approached mythology, femininity, and fate in contrasting ways.
The 1874 Painting: A Visual Narrative
Rossetti’s Proserpine presents the goddess in a shadowed corridor. She holds a pomegranate—its red seeds split open—close to her body, a symbol of the choice that bound her to the underworld. She turns her head sideways, her eyes cast toward a faint sliver of daylight entering from a small opening. This simple gesture tells the entire myth: the longing for the world above, the inevitability of descent, and the sorrow of divided existence.
The figure is not presented in the grandeur of Olympus or the fiery depths of Hades. Instead, Rossetti places her in a confined architectural setting, intensifying the mood of isolation. A sprig of ivy climbs the wall, symbolizing clinging memory and the passage of time. A censer hangs nearby, emphasizing her divine identity. Yet the atmosphere is not ceremonial but personal, intimate, almost claustrophobic.
Artistic Specialities of Proserpine

Proserpine 1874
Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Public domain,
via Wikimedia Commons
Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Public domain,
via Wikimedia Commons
1. The Power of Color
Rossetti’s palette in this work is dominated by cool blues and greens, tones that convey the chill of the underworld. Against this somber harmony, the pomegranate glows in a fiery red.
The fruit is not only symbolic but also chromatic punctuation: it disrupts the cool atmosphere like a sudden confession. The echo of this red in Proserpine’s lips links desire, sensuality, and fate in a single visual gesture.
2. Composition and Setting
The narrow corridor compresses the figure, forcing her into an introspective pose. The sideways glance, rather than a direct gaze, invites viewers into her inner world.
The contrast between the stone wall and the fleeting light is a metaphor for the division between the realms of death and life.
3. Symbolism and Allegory
Every element in the composition carries symbolic weight:
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The Pomegranate: A fruit of fertility and desire, but also the object that condemns her.
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The Ivy: Memory and time, clinging yet evergreen.
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The Light Slit: A fleeting reminder of the upper world.
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The Censer: A sign of divinity and ritual, grounding the scene in sacred myth.
4. Poetry and Painting Combined
Rossetti was not only a painter but also a poet. In Proserpine, he fuses these roles by including a painted cartellino inscribed with an Italian sonnet. On the frame, he added his English translation. This interplay of languages reflects Proserpine’s own divided existence: one tongue for the inner world, another for the external. The poem deepens the viewer’s sense of her entrapment, adding a second voice to the silent image.
5. Jane Morris as Proserpine
Rossetti’s muse, Jane Morris, is the model for Proserpine. Her dark hair, sculpted features, and enigmatic expression were central to many of his works. Here, her role is especially poignant. Just as Proserpine is torn between two worlds, Jane Morris was caught between her marriage to William Morris and her intimate connection with Rossetti. The painting thus becomes both mythological allegory and veiled portrait, a fusion of personal and universal meaning.

Proserpine 1874
Dante Gabriel Rossetti,
Public domain,
via Wikimedia Commons
Dante Gabriel Rossetti,
Public domain,
via Wikimedia Commons
The Auction History of Proserpine
The 1874 oil version is housed in a public collection and is not part of the art market. However, Rossetti painted several versions of Proserpine, including oils and a celebrated pastel. These works have become some of the most sought-after Pre-Raphaelite images at auction.
The most significant market moment occurred in 2013, when Rossetti’s large colored-chalks version of Proserpine was sold in London. Signed, dated, and inscribed with his sonnet, it realized more than £3.2 million. This price underscored both the rarity of such works and the iconic status of the subject. The sale was widely seen as a reaffirmation of Rossetti’s standing in the art market and highlighted Proserpine as his defining image.
Collectors and institutions value Proserpine not only for its mythological resonance but also because it embodies Rossetti’s mature style. As a result, any study, sketch, or version related to this subject commands high attention. The market narrative is clear: Proserpine is a benchmark work by which Rossetti’s reputation and value are measured.
Proserpine’s Symbolic Resonance in Victorian Culture
Victorian audiences were well acquainted with classical myths, and Proserpine’s story resonated deeply in a culture fascinated by morality, temptation, and female agency. For them, the pomegranate was not just a mythical device but also a symbol with erotic undertones, connecting desire with doom.
The ivy reinforced associations of memory and persistence, while the sunlight represented unattainable hope. In this way, Rossetti turned a classical tale into a meditation on longing and loss, themes that echoed his own struggles with love, illness, and artistic ambition.
The inclusion of the bilingual sonnet added another layer: a private, almost confessional inner voice in Italian, and a public-facing English text on the frame. This mirrored Victorian tensions between public morality and private passion.
Comparison with Frederick Sandys’ Medea (1866–68)

Medea - French: Médée
Frederick Sandys, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Narrative Approach

Frederick Sandys, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Sandys’ Medea presents the sorceress surrounded by poisonous plants and alchemical tools. Unlike Rossetti, who distilled the myth into a single moment of reflection, Sandys crowded his canvas with narrative details. Medea brims with action about to unfold—revenge, spell-casting, and fate being engineered.
Style and Surface
Sandys emphasized razor-sharp draughtsmanship and meticulous detail. Each plant is rendered with botanical precision. Rossetti, by contrast, smoothed his surfaces and emphasized mood over forensic detail. Where Sandys provides evidence, Rossetti provides atmosphere.
Female Agency
The two works also contrast in their representation of female power. Medea is active, dangerous, and vengeful; Proserpine is contemplative, bound by an act already committed. Medea grips her tools; Proserpine cradles the fruit as if it were both comfort and curse.
Symbolic Landscape
Sandys’ stage is crowded with objects of menace, while Rossetti pares his down to four key emblems. This difference underscores Rossetti’s late Pre-Raphaelite minimalism, where a few objects carry immense symbolic gravity.
Comparison with Edward Burne-Jones’ The Beguiling of Merlin (1872–77)

The Beguiling of Merlin 1874
Edward Burne-Jones, Public domain,
via Wikimedia Commons
Dual Figures Versus Solitary Icon

Edward Burne-Jones, Public domain,
via Wikimedia Commons
Burne-Jones depicts the enchanter Nimue lulling Merlin into submission amid a hawthorn tree. Unlike Rossetti’s solitary goddess, Burne-Jones creates a psychological duet. His work is narrative-driven, whereas Rossetti’s is lyrical and introspective.
Symbolism of Nature
The hawthorn ensnaring Merlin mirrors Proserpine’s ivy-clad wall. Both artists use vegetation as fate itself, but while Burne-Jones’ landscape entraps through external force, Rossetti’s ivy speaks of memory and inner constraint.
Style and Finish
Burne-Jones’ elongated forms and dreamlike drapery reflect his classical and medieval inspirations. Rossetti, on the other hand, maintains a visceral particularity: the texture of hair, the tangibility of fruit, the heaviness of stone. Together, they represent two complementary directions of late Pre-Raphaelite art.
Themes of Power
Both works engage with Victorian anxieties about feminine power. Nimue controls Merlin through enchantment and knowledge, while Proserpine embodies tragic inevitability. Burne-Jones explores seduction and entrapment; Rossetti explores longing and captivity.
Why Proserpine Endures
Rossetti’s Proserpine continues to resonate because it addresses a timeless condition: the experience of divided existence. Whether read as a mythological allegory, a veiled self-portrait of Jane Morris, or a reflection of Rossetti’s own struggles, the painting captures the universal human experience of living between worlds—duty and desire, past and present, shadow and light.
Its artistic economy—one figure, one fruit, one beam of light—makes it instantly legible, even in reproduction. Its symbolism remains endlessly interpretable, inviting each viewer to project their own sense of captivity and hope. And in the broader history of art, it stands as one of the most refined examples of how Victorian painters transformed myth into intimate psychological portraiture.
Conclusion: Proserpine and the Pre-Raphaelite Legacy
The 1874 Proserpine is not simply a mythological painting but a summation of Rossetti’s artistic and poetic concerns. Through the fusion of color, symbolism, poetry, and portraiture, he created a work that feels both timeless and personal.
Compared with Sandys’ detailed, action-driven Medea and Burne-Jones’ dreamlike Beguiling of Merlin, Rossetti’s painting is stripped to essentials, transforming myth into a meditation on inner life. Its enduring fame in museums and its commanding presence in the art market confirm its place as Rossetti’s signature masterpiece.
More than a depiction of a goddess, Proserpine is a visual poem about choice, memory, and the impossibility of return. In its gaze, we recognize not just a myth but a truth about human existence: that we are all, in some way, caught between worlds.