The Lady of Shalott is at once an emblem of the isolated artist and a symbol of constrained female desire. Confined in her isolated tower on the river-bound island of Shalott, the Lady is withdrawn from view. The only people who see her are the reapers who come to the island to harvest barley and rye, but even they only get partial glimpses. Meanwhile, within her “four gray walls” (line 15), the Lady spends her time working at a loom. She is an accomplished artist. She spends her time weaving a fine tapestry that illustrates scenes from the outside world, which she sees reflected in the crystal mirror set up above her loom. Her isolation enables the focus required to make such a “magic web with colours gay” (line 38), and she largely seems to enjoy the work. After all, despite her confinement on her island bower, the speaker insists that, “But in her web she still delights / To weave the mirror’s magic sights” (lines 64–65).

However, even if her isolation does enable the satisfaction of artmaking, the Lady’s confinement doesn’t appear to be entirely self-chosen. Part of what keeps her laboring at her loom is the mysterious curse. She may not know what the curse is, but she does know that she’s forbidden from looking directly out her window toward Camelot. In this sense, despite being a tool for self-expression, her loom is also a chain. We aren’t sure how long the Lady has been cooped up on Shalott, but however long it’s been, by the end of Part II she has grown “half sick of shadows” (line 71) and longs for connection. This desire is fatally provoked when Sir Lancelot comes into view. Dazzled by his glittering armor and entranced by his song, she succumbs to the temptation to look out her window. But just as she gives in to her desire, the curse activates and ineluctably leads to her death. If we read the curse’s activation as a direct result of the Lady’s attraction to Lancelot, then it seems that she is cosmically punished for her awakening desire.