THE PROPHETIC BOOKS (1788-1797): The Book of Thel (1790), The Book of Urizen (1794), The Book of Ahania (1795), The Book of Los (1795), The Four Zoas (1797), etc.
MILTON (1804), JERUSALEM (1804)
complex mythological characters: Los (Inspiration), Luvah (Emotion), Urizen (Thought), Tharmas (Sensation), etc.
difficult symbolism
transience of life, death is the beginning of a new life
Good and Evil are complementary, not opposite elements
opposes tyranny, stands for freedom and imagination, which represent eternity
laments the decay of man from the state of innocence to a state of rational sterility Text and comments available at http://www.poemhunter.com/william-blake/poems/poet-3026/page-1/
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), S.T. Coleridge (1772-1834)
LYRICAL BALLADS (1798) Preface by William Wordsworth:
“ I have said that poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility: the emotion is contemplated till, by a species of reaction, the tranquility gradually disappears, and an emotion, kindred to that which was before the subject of contemplation, is gradually produced, and does itself actually exist in the mind. In this mood successful composition generally begins, and in a mood similar to this it is carried on; but the emotion, of whatever kind, and in whatever degree, from various causes, is qualified by various pleasures, so that in describing any passions whatsoever, which are voluntarily described, the mind will, upon the whole, be in a state of enjoyment.”
recollections in tranquility have a renovating virtue
sensibility in action should be added to the mind
vulgar forms of everyday life are reshaped in a way similar to nature
the aim of the poets should be intensification without distortion, based on observation with truthfulness
important: the memory where man’s imaginative powers can be stored as in a reservoir
nature works as a continuous source of suggestions which awaken the visionary faculties of the poet and help him develop into a perceptive and reflective observer
these ideas are reflected in the poem I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD
I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees, 5 Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretch in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay: 10 Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay, 15 In such a jocund company:
I gazed – and gazed – but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood, 20 They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
S. T. Coleridge
his masterpiece, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (1797), is included in the Lyrical Ballads. Other poems are Kubla Khan and Christabel. They all deal with
supernatural elements. While for Wordsworth nature was found outside, for Coleridge it was present in a transcendental world.
it is the story of an old sailor, who sails to the South Pole and kills an albatross of good omen, the symbol of nature´s power and benevolent spirit. The crew hang the albatross around the neck of the mariner, the winds stop blowing, and the ship is imprisoned in the middle of the ocean (see Part II). In a dice game, Death wins the crew and all the sailors die, while Death-in-Life wins the mariner, who is punished to remain alive on the ocean as its prisoner. He is saved only when he blesses the creatures of the water in recognition of their divine nature.
Coleridge introduced prose explanations which deepen the effects of mystery and surprise
THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER PART II
T
he Sun now rose upon the right : Out of the sea came he,Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea.
And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow,
Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners' hollo !
His shipmates cry out against the ancient Mariner, for killing the bird of good luck.
And I had done an hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe : For all averred, I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch ! said they, the bird to slay, That made the breeze to blow !
But when the fog cleared off, they justify the same, and thus make themselves accomplices in the crime.
Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious Sun uprist :
Then all averred, I had killed the bird That brought the fog and mist.
'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, That bring the fog and mist.
The fair breeze continues ; the ship enters the Pacific Ocean, and sails northward, even till it reaches the Line.
The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free ;
We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea.
The ship hath been suddenly becalmed.
Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be ;
And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea !
All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon.
Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion ; As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
And the Albatross begins to be avenged.
Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink ; Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink.
The very deep did rot : O Christ ! That ever this should be !
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea.
About, about, in reel and rout The death-fires danced at night ; The water, like a witch's oils, Burnt green, and blue and white.
A Spirit had followed them ; one of the invisible inhabitants of this planet, neither departed souls nor angels ; concerning whom the learned Jew, Josephus, and the Platonic
Constantinopolitan, Michael Psellus, may be consulted. They are very numerous, and there is no climate or element without one or more.
And some in dreams assuréd were Of the Spirit that plagued us so ; Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow.
And every tongue, through utter drought, Was withered at the root ;
We could not speak, no more than if We had been choked with soot.
The shipmates, in their sore distress, would fain throw the whole guilt on the ancient Mariner : in sign whereof they hang the dead sea-bird round his neck.
Ah ! well a-day ! what evil looks Had I from old and young ! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung.
Texts and comments available at http://etc.dal.ca/lballads/welcome.html.
P. B. Shelley (1792-1822)
DEFENCE OF POETRY, 1821
Poetry, in a general sense, may be defined to be "the expression of the Imagination"
the language is vitally metaphorical
Poets are the authors of language and of music, but also legislators or prophets
a Poet participates in the eternal, the infinite; a Poem is the very image of life expressed in its eternal truth
Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar
Works:
Prometheus Unbound (1818-1819), Ode to the West Wind (1819), The Cloud, To a Skylark (1820), Adonais (1821), etc. To a Skylark is a poem in which Shelley expresseshis deep love of nature and his pantheistic beliefs. The skylark, the only bird to sing in flight, is unseen, but its song generates ecstatic moments. It turns, thus, into the symbol of spontaneous art, of the divine power of nature and its spirit which, like that of a poet, reveals the ideal truth to mankind.
TO A SKYLARK
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit, Bird thou never wert, That from Heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. 5
Higher still and higher
From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire;
The blue deep thou wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. 10
………
Waking or asleep,
Thou of death must deem Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream? 85 We look before and after,
And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. 90 Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and pride, and fear;
If we were things born Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. 95 Better than all measures
Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures
Than in books are found
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner to the ground. 100 Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know
Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow
The world should listen then – as I am listening now. 105 Texts available at http://www.bartleby.com/139/, comments available at
http://www.victorianweb.org/previctorian/shelley/religionov.html
G. G. Byron (1788-1824) and the Byronic hero CHILDE HAROLD´S PILGRIMAGE (1810-1818)
Immediate success: “I awoke one morning and found myself famous”
Exotic landscapes- Spain, Greece, Albania
THE CORSAIR (1814) – the story of Conrad, a pirate in search of freedom and adventure Other poems:Lara (1814), Manfred (1817), Don Juan (1819-1824) develop the Byronic hero into a demonic fighter for liberty, opposing society and lamenting its decay. He is like a fallen angel, condemned to live as a stranger among inferior creatures. He suffers in solitude the disillusionment of his contemporaries’ wrong political decisions, of his own life of luxury and pleasure, of the boredom and spleen which cannot be cured by numerous adventures in exotic lands. Don Juan, for instance, is shipwrecked, put in chains by pirates, becomes the slave of a sultana in Constantinople, is sent to St. Petersburg and then to England on political missions, but cannot get rid of his inner dissatisfaction and alienation.
CHILDE HAROLD’S PILGRIMAGE From Canto the First
II
Whilome in Albion’s isle there dwelt a youth, Who ne in virtue’s ways did take delight;
But spent his days in riot most uncouth, And vexed with mirth the drowsy ear of Night.
Ah me! In sooth he was a shameless wight, Sore given to revel and ungodly glee;
For earthly things found favour in his sight Save concubines and carnal companie, And flaunting wassailers of high and low degree.
III
Childe Harold was he hight: -but whence his name And lineage long, it suits me not to say;
Suffice it, that perchance they were of fame, And had been glorious in another day:
But one sad losel soils a name for aye, However mighty in the olden time;
Nor all that heralds rake from coffin’d clay, Nor florid prose, nor honeyd lies of rhyme, Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime.
IV
Childe Harold bask’d him in the noontide sun, Disporting there like any other fly;
Nor deem’d before his little day was done One blast might chill him into misery.
But long ere scarce a third of his pass’d by, Worse than adversity the Childe befell;
He felt the fullness of satiety:
Then loathed he in his native land to dwell, Which seem’d to him more lone than Eremite’s sad cell.
V
For he through Sin’s long labyrinth had run, Nor made atonement when he did amiss, Had sigh’d to many though he loved but one.
And that loved one, alas! Could ne’er be his.
Ah, happy she! To ‘scape from him whose kiss Had been pollution unto aught so chaste;
Who soon had left her charms for vulgar bliss, And spoil’d her goodly lands to gild his waste, Nor calm domestic peace had ever deign’d to taste.
VI
And now Childe Harold was sore sick at heart, And from his fellow bacchanals would flee;
‘Tis said, at times the sullen tear would start, But Pride congeal’d the drop within his ee:
Apart he stalk’d in joyless reverie, And from his native land resolved to go, And visit scorching climes beyond the sea;
With pleasure drugg’d, he almost longed for woe, And e’en for change of scene would seek the shades below.
VII
The Childe departed from his father’s hall:
It was a vast and venerable pile;
So old, it seemed only not to fall;
Yet strength was pillar’d in each massy aisle.
Monastic dome! Condemn’d to uses vile!
Where Superstition once had made her den Now Paiphan girls were known to sing and smile;
And monks might deem their time was come agen, If ancient tales say true, not wrong these hole men.
VIII
Yet oft-times in his maddest mirthful mood
Strange pangs would flash along Childe Harold’s brow As if the memory of some deadly feud
Or disappointed passion lurk’d below:
But this none knew, nor haply cared to know;
For this was not that open, artless soul That feels relief by bidding sorrow flow, Nor sought he friend to counsel or condole, Whate’er this grief mote be, which he could not control.
Teyts available at http://www.online-literature.com/byron/.