Hi everyone. I wanted to give you some context and background on the English Romantic poets--since we'll be spending two weeks with the movement. They are, in effect, our starting point; consider Alexander Pope a prelude, a prequel, something of a small dabble into the Neo-Classical poets (or Augustans as they are also known). In some ways, the Romantics are direct contrast to Neo-Classicism, a negative result of sorts, from diction to politics to state of mind to the idea that, as Blake puts it, "where man is not, nature is barren." Blake also said, "There is no natural religion." His enemy is the organized church, not religion itself (or spirituality or whatever one wants to call it).
Anyway, in 1798 Wordsworth and Coleridge collaborated on Lyrical Ballads (which included some of the two poets' most famous work, including Wordsworth's "Tintern Abbey" and Coleridge's "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner"), and in 1802, for the second edition, Wordsworth wrote a preface stating their aims for the poetry (think of it as a manifesto). The poetry was actually fairly experimental for the time, seeing as how it was much more personal/autobiographical (much of it anyway) than the Augustans, and actually in a more plain style (for the time) In fact, in his Preface Wordsworth wrote,
"The principle object, then, proposed in these Poems was to choose incidents and situations from common life, and to relate or describe them, throughout, as far as was possible in a selection of language really used by men, and, at the same time, to throw over them a certain coloring of imagination, whereby ordinary things should be presented to the mind in an unusual aspect; and, further, and above all, to make these incidents and situations interesting by tracing in them, truly though not ostentatiously, the primary laws of our nature: chiefly, as far as regards the manner in which we associate ideas in a state of excitement. Humble and rustic life was generally chosen . . . Accordingly, such a language, arising out of repeated experience and regular feelings, is a more permanent, and a far more philosophical language, than that which is frequently substituted for it by Poets, who think that they are conferring honor upon themselves and their art, in proportion as they separate themselves from the sympathies of Men, and indulge in arbitrary and capricious habits of expression."
Wordsworth and others were rebelling in a sense against the imitation of the Greeks and Romans by the Neo-Classicists, and were looking to forge something new, a new expression, something more in line with their own ideas about truth, as well as the ability of the singular person to interact with Nature, which, for the Romantics, was where God/Spirituality resided (thus the idea of Pantheism. Remember the late 1700's and early 1800's was a time of much turmoil, revolution, political upheaval--The French Revolution as well as the American Revolution come to mind.
Having said all of that, I would add that the romantics were not completely radical/experimental--they owed their creative debts to Shakespeare, Milton and others, and they were not without their own conventions. The great scholar M.H. Abrams explores two of those conventions (continuing on work done by G. M. Harper in 1925). Abrams writes two very influential essays: "Structure and Style in the Greater Romantic Lyric" (a truly groundbreaking essay), and "The Correspondent Breeze: A Romantic Metaphor."
In "Structure and Style," Abrams identifies what he calls the Greater Romantic Lyric, type of poem that "begins with a description of the landscape; an aspect or change of aspect in the landscape evokes a varied but integral process of memory, thought, anticipation, and feeling which remains closely intervolved with the outer scene. In the course of this meditation the lyric speaker achieves an insight, faces up to a tragic loss, comes to a moral decision, or resolved an emotional problem." This was a more complex version of what Harper called the tripartite structure: namely, a poem that was structured "description-imagination-return. With Abrams , the "return" is more than a return to the original scene--it carries with it some sort of change, an "insight" as Abrams refers to it. so what does this all mean? Think of Wordsworth's "Tintern Abbey," or Coleridge's "Dejection: an Ode," just to give two examples. Think about the poems/poets you will read next week. What does this say about the romantics? That they were formulaic? Or that they held certain styles and philosophies in common? Or both? This an example of one way toward analysis.
In the second essay, "Correspondent Breeze," Abrams identifies a repeated metaphor used in Romantic poetry: that of the wind or breeze and its carrying forth the stuff of creativity and renewal--poems that, as Abrams writes, "begin with a literal wind which transforms itself into the metaphorical wind of inspiration." As Wordsworth writes in his epic autobiographical poem The Prelude, "Nature's self is the breath of God." According to Abrams, "the surprising thing is how often, in the major poems, the wind is not only a property of the landscape, but also a vehicle for radical changes in the poet's mind" and that"Coleridge's '"Dejection: an Ode"' (1802) . . . is the "earliest inclusive instance of this symbolic equation."
Give some thought as you read and re-read these poems this week and next, what other kinds of congruences you see, what kinds of similarities, yes, but also how each of these poets are individual as well.
All for now,
Jamie
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Monday, August 27, 2007
Some Strategies for Responding to Poetry
I'll include this document here as well as on the Web CT site. Look also for some contextual info on the Romantics/Romanticism forthcoming.
-----------------------------
Responding to Poetry – some Strategies/Guidelines
Speaker/Summary:
- What do we know about the speaker: age, sex, sensibilities, values?
- reliable/unreliable?
- Is the audience specific? General?
- Situation/content/themes
Poetic Elements:
- Language:
o is the diction casual, elevated, a mix?
o How does word choice reveal meaning? Any word repetitions?
o What is the tone of the poem? Can you determine emotional distance of the voice? Poet writing in the midst of emotion or at some distance from it?
o Is the language intense? Compressed? Does the poem need/warrant more than two close readings?
- Sound/Rhythm
o Does the poem use assonance, consonance, and/or alliteration? How do the poem’s sounds affect you? How do they affect the meanings of the poem?
o What sounds are repeated? If there are rhymes are they forced or natural? Is there a rhyme scheme?
o Does the rhythm, whether in meter or not, seem appropriate for the tone of the poem?
- Lines/linebreaks
o How long is the line and how might it relate to the poem’s meanings (Note that less than ten syllables cuts the breath short and slows the line down; ten syllables is the natural breath; more than ten syllables requires the breath to take in more).
o Are the lines end-stopped, enjambed, or a combo of the two? How might this affect the poem?
o Are the lines broken on specific words for emphasis?
- Sentences
o Long, short, simple, complex? How does the sentence structure affect the poem’s meanings?
o Is there punctuation, and/or does the punctuation contribute to meaning?
- Form
o Is the poem in open form or closed form? Do you think the form is a suitable vehicle for the poem?
o If the poem is in stanzas, how do they function in the poem? Are they regular or irregular?
- Images (sensory)
o Do the images advance the meaning or are they purely decorative?
o How prevalent are the images?
o Are the images disparate or do they connect to each other in some way?
- Figures of Speech
o Does the poem incorporate metaphor and/or simile? How do they contribute? Is it an explicit or implied metaphor? Is it an extended metaphor?
o Does the poem use paradox (a statement that initially seems to be contradictory but turns out to make sense) or personification?
o Do any allusions enrich or hinder the poem’s meaning, and what might that say about the poem’s intended audience?
Your Initial Reaction:
- Did you enjoy the poem? what specifically pleased or displeased you?
- To what extent do your own experiences, values, beliefs, assumptions form your interpretation?
-----------------------------
Responding to Poetry – some Strategies/Guidelines
Speaker/Summary:
- What do we know about the speaker: age, sex, sensibilities, values?
- reliable/unreliable?
- Is the audience specific? General?
- Situation/content/themes
Poetic Elements:
- Language:
o is the diction casual, elevated, a mix?
o How does word choice reveal meaning? Any word repetitions?
o What is the tone of the poem? Can you determine emotional distance of the voice? Poet writing in the midst of emotion or at some distance from it?
o Is the language intense? Compressed? Does the poem need/warrant more than two close readings?
- Sound/Rhythm
o Does the poem use assonance, consonance, and/or alliteration? How do the poem’s sounds affect you? How do they affect the meanings of the poem?
o What sounds are repeated? If there are rhymes are they forced or natural? Is there a rhyme scheme?
o Does the rhythm, whether in meter or not, seem appropriate for the tone of the poem?
- Lines/linebreaks
o How long is the line and how might it relate to the poem’s meanings (Note that less than ten syllables cuts the breath short and slows the line down; ten syllables is the natural breath; more than ten syllables requires the breath to take in more).
o Are the lines end-stopped, enjambed, or a combo of the two? How might this affect the poem?
o Are the lines broken on specific words for emphasis?
- Sentences
o Long, short, simple, complex? How does the sentence structure affect the poem’s meanings?
o Is there punctuation, and/or does the punctuation contribute to meaning?
- Form
o Is the poem in open form or closed form? Do you think the form is a suitable vehicle for the poem?
o If the poem is in stanzas, how do they function in the poem? Are they regular or irregular?
- Images (sensory)
o Do the images advance the meaning or are they purely decorative?
o How prevalent are the images?
o Are the images disparate or do they connect to each other in some way?
- Figures of Speech
o Does the poem incorporate metaphor and/or simile? How do they contribute? Is it an explicit or implied metaphor? Is it an extended metaphor?
o Does the poem use paradox (a statement that initially seems to be contradictory but turns out to make sense) or personification?
o Do any allusions enrich or hinder the poem’s meaning, and what might that say about the poem’s intended audience?
Your Initial Reaction:
- Did you enjoy the poem? what specifically pleased or displeased you?
- To what extent do your own experiences, values, beliefs, assumptions form your interpretation?
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Trouble with your text . . .
For those of you who have had trouble getting your textbook. I will include here the first 300-or-so lines from Alexander Pope's "Essay on Criticism." (Preceding it you will find some biographical/historical info on A. Pope - for those of you who may like that sort of thing. As for the essays in the Norton Anthology ("Versification" and "Poetic Syntax") do your best--beg, borrow, library, etc.--or catch up when you can. Just be aware that those essays will lay the groundwork for much of our discussions throughout the course of this . . . course. Anyway . . . here's Pope.
ALEXANDER POPE.
* * * * *
This eminent English poet was born in London, May 21, 1688. His parents
were Roman Catholics, and to this faith the poet adhered, thus debarring
himself from public office and employment. His father, a linen merchant,
having saved a moderate competency, withdrew from business, and settled
on a small estate he had purchased in Windsor Forest. He died at
Chiswick, in 1717. His son shortly afterwards took a long lease of a
house and five acres of land at Twickenham, on the banks of the Thames,
whither he retired with his widowed mother, to whom he was tenderly
attached and where he resided till death, cultivating his little domain
with exquisite taste and skill, and embellishing it with a grotto,
temple, wilderness, and other adjuncts poetical and picturesque. In this
famous villa Pope was visited by the most celebrated wits, statesmen and
beauties of the day, himself being the most popular and successful poet
of his age. His early years were spent at Binfield, within the range of
the Royal Forest. He received some education at little Catholic schools,
but was his own instructor after his twelfth year. He never was a
profound or accurate scholar, but he read Latin poets with ease and
delight, and acquired some Greek, French, and Italian. He was a poet
almost from infancy, he "lisped in numbers," and when a mere youth
surpassed all his contemporaries in metrical harmony and correctness.
His pastorals and some translations appeared in 1709, but were written
three or four years earlier. These were followed by the _Essay on
Criticism_, 1711; _Rape of the Lock_ (when completed, the most
graceful, airy, and imaginative of his works), 1712-1714; _Windsor
Forest_, 1713; _Temple of Fame_, 1715. In a collection of his
works printed in 1717 he included the _Epistle of Eloisa_ and
_Elegy on an Unfortunate Lady_, two poems inimitable for pathetic
beauty and finished melodious versification.
From 1715 till 1726 Pope was chiefly engaged on his translations of the
_Iliad_ and _Odyssey_, which, though wanting in time Homeric
simplicity, naturalness, and grandeur, are splendid poems. In 1728-29 he
published his greatest satire--the _Dunciad_, an attack on all
poetasters and pretended wits, and on all other persons against whom the
sensitive poet had conceived any enmity. In 1737 he gave to the world a
volume of his _Literary Correspondence_, containing some pleasant
gossip and observations, with choice passages of description but it
appears that the correspondence was manufactured for publication not
composed of actual letters addressed to the parties whose names are
given, and the collection was introduced to the public by means of an
elaborate stratagem on the part of the scheming poet. Between the years
1731 and 1739 he issued a series of poetical essays moral and
philosophical, with satires and imitations of Horace, all admirable for
sense, wit, spirit and brilliancy of these delightful productions, the
most celebrated is the _Essay on Man_ to which Bolingbroke is
believed to have contributed the spurious philosophy and false
sentiment, but its merit consists in detached passages, descriptions,
and pictures. A fourth book to the _Dunciad_, containing many
beautiful and striking lines and a general revision of his works, closed
the poet's literary cares and toils. He died on the 30th of May, 1744,
and was buried in the church at Twickenham.
Pope was of very diminutive stature and deformed from his birth. His
physical infirmity, susceptible temperament, and incessant study
rendered his life one long disease. He was, as his friend Lord
Chesterfield said, "the most irritable of all the _genus irritabile
vatum_, offended with trifles and never forgetting or forgiving
them." His literary stratagems, disguises, assertions, denials, and (we
must add) misrepresentations would fill volumes. Yet when no disturbing
jealousy vanity, or rivalry intervened was generous and affectionate,
and he had a manly, independent spirit. As a poet he was deficient in
originality and creative power, and thus was inferior to his prototype,
Dryden, but as a literary artist, and brilliant declaimer satirist and
moralizer in verse he is still unrivaled. He is the English Horace, and
will as surely descend with honors to the latest posterity.
AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM,
WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1709
[The title, _An Essay on Criticism_ hardly indicates all
that is included in the poem. It would have been impossible to
give a full and exact idea of the art of poetical criticism
without entering into the consideration of the art of poetry.
Accordingly Pope has interwoven the precepts of both throughout
the poem which might more properly have been styled an essay on
the Art of Criticism and of Poetry.]
* * * * *
PART I.
'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill,
But of the two less dangerous is the offense
To tire our patience than mislead our sense
Some few in that but numbers err in this,
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss,
A fool might once himself alone expose,
Now one in verse makes many more in prose.
'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own
In poets as true genius is but rare
True taste as seldom is the critic share
Both must alike from Heaven derive their light,
These born to judge as well as those to write
Let such teach others who themselves excel,
And censure freely, who have written well
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true [17]
But are not critics to their judgment too?
Yet if we look more closely we shall find
Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind
Nature affords at least a glimmering light
The lines though touched but faintly are drawn right,
But as the slightest sketch if justly traced
Is by ill coloring but the more disgraced
So by false learning is good sense defaced
Some are bewildered in the maze of schools [26]
And some made coxcombs nature meant but fools
In search of wit these lose their common sense
And then turn critics in their own defense
Each burns alike who can or cannot write
Or with a rival's or an eunuch's spite
All fools have still an itching to deride
And fain would be upon the laughing side
If Maevius scribble in Apollo's spite [34]
There are who judge still worse than he can write.
Some have at first for wits then poets passed
Turned critics next and proved plain fools at last
Some neither can for wits nor critics pass
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.
Those half-learned witlings, numerous in our isle,
As half-formed insects on the banks of Nile
Unfinished things one knows not what to call
Their generation is so equivocal
To tell them would a hundred tongues require,
Or one vain wits that might a hundred tire.
But you who seek to give and merit fame,
And justly bear a critic's noble name,
Be sure yourself and your own reach to know
How far your genius taste and learning go.
Launch not beyond your depth, but be discreet
And mark that point where sense and dullness meet.
Nature to all things fixed the limits fit
And wisely curbed proud man's pretending wit.
As on the land while here the ocean gains.
In other parts it leaves wide sandy plains
Thus in the soul while memory prevails,
The solid power of understanding fails
Where beams of warm imagination play,
The memory's soft figures melt away
One science only will one genius fit,
So vast is art, so narrow human wit
Not only bounded to peculiar arts,
But oft in those confined to single parts
Like kings, we lose the conquests gained before,
By vain ambition still to make them more
Each might his several province well command,
Would all but stoop to what they understand.
First follow nature and your judgment frame
By her just standard, which is still the same.
Unerring nature still divinely bright,
One clear, unchanged and universal light,
Life force and beauty, must to all impart,
At once the source and end and test of art
Art from that fund each just supply provides,
Works without show and without pomp presides
In some fair body thus the informing soul
With spirits feeds, with vigor fills the whole,
Each motion guides and every nerve sustains,
Itself unseen, but in the effects remains.
Some, to whom Heaven in wit has been profuse, [80]
Want as much more, to turn it to its use;
For wit and judgment often are at strife,
Though meant each other's aid, like man and wife.
'Tis more to guide, than spur the muse's steed,
Restrain his fury, than provoke his speed,
The winged courser, like a generous horse, [86]
Shows most true mettle when you check his course.
Those rules, of old discovered, not devised,
Are nature still, but nature methodized;
Nature, like liberty, is but restrained
By the same laws which first herself ordained.
Hear how learned Greece her useful rules indites,
When to repress and when indulge our flights.
High on Parnassus' top her sons she showed, [94]
And pointed out those arduous paths they trod;
Held from afar, aloft, the immortal prize,
And urged the rest by equal steps to rise. [97]
Just precepts thus from great examples given,
She drew from them what they derived from Heaven.
The generous critic fanned the poet's fire,
And taught the world with reason to admire.
Then criticism the muse's handmaid proved,
To dress her charms, and make her more beloved:
But following wits from that intention strayed
Who could not win the mistress, wooed the maid
Against the poets their own arms they turned
Sure to hate most the men from whom they learned
So modern pothecaries taught the art
By doctors bills to play the doctor's part.
Bold in the practice of mistaken rules
Prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools.
Some on the leaves of ancient authors prey,
Nor time nor moths e'er spoil so much as they.
Some dryly plain, without invention's aid,
Write dull receipts how poems may be made
These leave the sense their learning to display,
And those explain the meaning quite away.
You then, whose judgment the right course would steer,
Know well each ancient's proper character,
His fable subject scope in every page,
Religion, country, genius of his age
Without all these at once before your eyes,
Cavil you may, but never criticise.
Be Homers works your study and delight,
Read them by day and meditate by night,
Thence form your judgment thence your maxims bring
And trace the muses upward to their spring.
Still with itself compared, his text peruse,
And let your comment be the Mantuan Muse. [129]
When first young Maro in his boundless mind, [130]
A work to outlast immortal Rome designed,
Perhaps he seemed above the critic's law
And but from nature's fountain scorned to draw
But when to examine every part he came
Nature and Homer were he found the same
Convinced, amazed, he checks the bold design
And rules as strict his labored work confine
As if the Stagirite o'erlooked each line [138]
Learn hence for ancient rules a just esteem,
To copy nature is to copy them.
Some beauties yet no precepts can declare,
For there's a happiness as well as care.
Music resembles poetry--in each
Are nameless graces which no methods teach,
And which a master hand alone can reach
If, where the rules not far enough extend
(Since rules were made but to promote their end),
Some lucky license answer to the full
The intent proposed that license is a rule.
Thus Pegasus a nearer way to take
May boldly deviate from the common track
Great wits sometimes may gloriously offend,
And rise to faults true critics dare not mend,
From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part,
And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art,
Which without passing through the judgment gains
The heart and all its end at once attains.
In prospects, thus, some objects please our eyes,
Which out of nature's common order rise,
The shapeless rock or hanging precipice.
But though the ancients thus their rules invade
(As kings dispense with laws themselves have made),
Moderns beware! or if you must offend
Against the precept, ne'er transgress its end,
Let it be seldom, and compelled by need,
And have, at least, their precedent to plead.
The critic else proceeds without remorse,
Seizes your fame, and puts his laws in force.
I know there are, to whose presumptuous thoughts
Those freer beauties, even in them, seem faults
Some figures monstrous and misshaped appear,
Considered singly, or beheld too near,
Which, but proportioned to their light, or place,
Due distance reconciles to form and grace.
A prudent chief not always must display
His powers in equal ranks and fair array,
But with the occasion and the place comply.
Conceal his force, nay, seem sometimes to fly.
Those oft are stratagems which errors seem,
Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream. [180]
Still green with bays each ancient altar stands,
Above the reach of sacrilegious hands,
Secure from flames, from envy's fiercer rage, [183]
Destructive war, and all-involving age.
See, from each clime the learned their incense bring;
Hear, in all tongues consenting Paeans ring!
In praise so just let every voice be joined,
And fill the general chorus of mankind.
Hail! bards triumphant! born in happier days;
Immortal heirs of universal praise!
Whose honors with increase of ages grow,
As streams roll down, enlarging as they flow;
Nations unborn your mighty names shall sound, [193]
And worlds applaud that must not yet be found!
Oh may some spark of your celestial fire,
The last, the meanest of your sons inspire,
(That, on weak wings, from far pursues your flights,
Glows while he reads, but trembles as he writes),
To teach vain wits a science little known,
To admire superior sense, and doubt their own!
* * * * *
PART II.
Of all the causes which conspire to blind
Man's erring judgment and misguide the mind,
What the weak head with strongest bias rules,
Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.
Whatever nature has in worth denied,
She gives in large recruits of needful pride;
For as in bodies, thus in souls, we find
What wants in blood and spirits, swelled with wind:
Pride where wit fails steps in to our defense,
And fills up all the mighty void of sense.
If once right reason drives that cloud away,
Truth breaks upon us with resistless day
Trust not yourself, but your defects to know,
Make use of every friend--and every foe.
A little learning is a dangerous thing
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring [216]
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.
Tired at first sight with what the muse imparts,
In fearless youth we tempt the heights of arts
While from the bounded level of our mind
Short views we take nor see the lengths behind
But more advanced behold with strange surprise,
New distant scenes of endless science rise!
So pleased at first the towering Alps we try,
Mount o'er the vales and seem to tread the sky,
The eternal snows appear already passed
And the first clouds and mountains seem the last.
But those attained we tremble to survey
The growing labors of the lengthened way
The increasing prospect tires our wandering eyes,
Hills peep o'er hills and Alps on Alps arise!
A perfect judge will read each work of wit
With the same spirit that its author writ
Survey the whole nor seek slight faults to find
Where nature moves and rapture warms the mind,
Nor lose for that malignant dull delight
The generous pleasure to be charmed with wit
But in such lays as neither ebb nor flow,
Correctly cold and regularly low
That, shunning faults, one quiet tenor keep;
We cannot blame indeed--but we may sleep.
In wit, as nature, what affects our hearts
Is not the exactness of peculiar parts,
'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call,
But the joint force and full result of all.
Thus, when we view some well proportioned dome
(The worlds just wonder, and even thine, O Rome!), [248]
No single parts unequally surprise,
All comes united to the admiring eyes;
No monstrous height or breadth, or length, appear;
The whole at once is bold, and regular.
Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see.
Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.
In every work regard the writer's end,
Since none can compass more than they intend;
And if the means be just, the conduct true,
Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due.
As men of breeding, sometimes men of wit,
To avoid great errors, must the less commit:
Neglect the rules each verbal critic lays,
For not to know some trifles is a praise.
Most critics, fond of some subservient art,
Still make the whole depend upon a part:
They talk of principles, but notions prize,
And all to one loved folly sacrifice.
Once on a time La Mancha's knight, they say, [267]
A certain bard encountering on the way,
Discoursed in terms as just, with looks as sage,
As e'er could Dennis, of the Grecian stage; [270]
Concluding all were desperate sots and fools,
Who durst depart from Aristotle's rules
Our author, happy in a judge so nice,
Produced his play, and begged the knight's advice;
Made him observe the subject, and the plot,
The manners, passions, unities, what not?
All which, exact to rule, were brought about,
Were but a combat in the lists left out
"What! leave the combat out?" exclaims the knight.
"Yes, or we must renounce the Stagirite."
"Not so, by heaven!" (he answers in a rage)
"Knights, squires, and steeds must enter on the stage."
"So vast a throng the stage can ne'er contain."
"Then build a new, or act it in a plain."
Thus critics of less judgment than caprice,
Curious, not knowing, not exact, but nice,
Form short ideas, and offend in arts
(As most in manners) by a love to parts.
Some to conceit alone their taste confine,
And glittering thoughts struck out at every line;
Pleased with a work where nothing's just or fit;
One glaring chaos and wild heap of wit.
Poets, like painters, thus, unskilled to trace
The naked nature and the living grace,
With gold and jewels cover every part,
And hide with ornaments their want of art.
True wit is nature to advantage dressed;
What oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed;
Something, whose truth convinced at sight we find
That gives us back the image of our mind.
As shades more sweetly recommend the light,
So modest plainness sets off sprightly wit
For works may have more wit than does them good,
As bodies perish through excess of blood.
ALEXANDER POPE.
* * * * *
This eminent English poet was born in London, May 21, 1688. His parents
were Roman Catholics, and to this faith the poet adhered, thus debarring
himself from public office and employment. His father, a linen merchant,
having saved a moderate competency, withdrew from business, and settled
on a small estate he had purchased in Windsor Forest. He died at
Chiswick, in 1717. His son shortly afterwards took a long lease of a
house and five acres of land at Twickenham, on the banks of the Thames,
whither he retired with his widowed mother, to whom he was tenderly
attached and where he resided till death, cultivating his little domain
with exquisite taste and skill, and embellishing it with a grotto,
temple, wilderness, and other adjuncts poetical and picturesque. In this
famous villa Pope was visited by the most celebrated wits, statesmen and
beauties of the day, himself being the most popular and successful poet
of his age. His early years were spent at Binfield, within the range of
the Royal Forest. He received some education at little Catholic schools,
but was his own instructor after his twelfth year. He never was a
profound or accurate scholar, but he read Latin poets with ease and
delight, and acquired some Greek, French, and Italian. He was a poet
almost from infancy, he "lisped in numbers," and when a mere youth
surpassed all his contemporaries in metrical harmony and correctness.
His pastorals and some translations appeared in 1709, but were written
three or four years earlier. These were followed by the _Essay on
Criticism_, 1711; _Rape of the Lock_ (when completed, the most
graceful, airy, and imaginative of his works), 1712-1714; _Windsor
Forest_, 1713; _Temple of Fame_, 1715. In a collection of his
works printed in 1717 he included the _Epistle of Eloisa_ and
_Elegy on an Unfortunate Lady_, two poems inimitable for pathetic
beauty and finished melodious versification.
From 1715 till 1726 Pope was chiefly engaged on his translations of the
_Iliad_ and _Odyssey_, which, though wanting in time Homeric
simplicity, naturalness, and grandeur, are splendid poems. In 1728-29 he
published his greatest satire--the _Dunciad_, an attack on all
poetasters and pretended wits, and on all other persons against whom the
sensitive poet had conceived any enmity. In 1737 he gave to the world a
volume of his _Literary Correspondence_, containing some pleasant
gossip and observations, with choice passages of description but it
appears that the correspondence was manufactured for publication not
composed of actual letters addressed to the parties whose names are
given, and the collection was introduced to the public by means of an
elaborate stratagem on the part of the scheming poet. Between the years
1731 and 1739 he issued a series of poetical essays moral and
philosophical, with satires and imitations of Horace, all admirable for
sense, wit, spirit and brilliancy of these delightful productions, the
most celebrated is the _Essay on Man_ to which Bolingbroke is
believed to have contributed the spurious philosophy and false
sentiment, but its merit consists in detached passages, descriptions,
and pictures. A fourth book to the _Dunciad_, containing many
beautiful and striking lines and a general revision of his works, closed
the poet's literary cares and toils. He died on the 30th of May, 1744,
and was buried in the church at Twickenham.
Pope was of very diminutive stature and deformed from his birth. His
physical infirmity, susceptible temperament, and incessant study
rendered his life one long disease. He was, as his friend Lord
Chesterfield said, "the most irritable of all the _genus irritabile
vatum_, offended with trifles and never forgetting or forgiving
them." His literary stratagems, disguises, assertions, denials, and (we
must add) misrepresentations would fill volumes. Yet when no disturbing
jealousy vanity, or rivalry intervened was generous and affectionate,
and he had a manly, independent spirit. As a poet he was deficient in
originality and creative power, and thus was inferior to his prototype,
Dryden, but as a literary artist, and brilliant declaimer satirist and
moralizer in verse he is still unrivaled. He is the English Horace, and
will as surely descend with honors to the latest posterity.
AN ESSAY ON CRITICISM,
WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1709
[The title, _An Essay on Criticism_ hardly indicates all
that is included in the poem. It would have been impossible to
give a full and exact idea of the art of poetical criticism
without entering into the consideration of the art of poetry.
Accordingly Pope has interwoven the precepts of both throughout
the poem which might more properly have been styled an essay on
the Art of Criticism and of Poetry.]
* * * * *
PART I.
'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill,
But of the two less dangerous is the offense
To tire our patience than mislead our sense
Some few in that but numbers err in this,
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss,
A fool might once himself alone expose,
Now one in verse makes many more in prose.
'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own
In poets as true genius is but rare
True taste as seldom is the critic share
Both must alike from Heaven derive their light,
These born to judge as well as those to write
Let such teach others who themselves excel,
And censure freely, who have written well
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true [17]
But are not critics to their judgment too?
Yet if we look more closely we shall find
Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind
Nature affords at least a glimmering light
The lines though touched but faintly are drawn right,
But as the slightest sketch if justly traced
Is by ill coloring but the more disgraced
So by false learning is good sense defaced
Some are bewildered in the maze of schools [26]
And some made coxcombs nature meant but fools
In search of wit these lose their common sense
And then turn critics in their own defense
Each burns alike who can or cannot write
Or with a rival's or an eunuch's spite
All fools have still an itching to deride
And fain would be upon the laughing side
If Maevius scribble in Apollo's spite [34]
There are who judge still worse than he can write.
Some have at first for wits then poets passed
Turned critics next and proved plain fools at last
Some neither can for wits nor critics pass
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.
Those half-learned witlings, numerous in our isle,
As half-formed insects on the banks of Nile
Unfinished things one knows not what to call
Their generation is so equivocal
To tell them would a hundred tongues require,
Or one vain wits that might a hundred tire.
But you who seek to give and merit fame,
And justly bear a critic's noble name,
Be sure yourself and your own reach to know
How far your genius taste and learning go.
Launch not beyond your depth, but be discreet
And mark that point where sense and dullness meet.
Nature to all things fixed the limits fit
And wisely curbed proud man's pretending wit.
As on the land while here the ocean gains.
In other parts it leaves wide sandy plains
Thus in the soul while memory prevails,
The solid power of understanding fails
Where beams of warm imagination play,
The memory's soft figures melt away
One science only will one genius fit,
So vast is art, so narrow human wit
Not only bounded to peculiar arts,
But oft in those confined to single parts
Like kings, we lose the conquests gained before,
By vain ambition still to make them more
Each might his several province well command,
Would all but stoop to what they understand.
First follow nature and your judgment frame
By her just standard, which is still the same.
Unerring nature still divinely bright,
One clear, unchanged and universal light,
Life force and beauty, must to all impart,
At once the source and end and test of art
Art from that fund each just supply provides,
Works without show and without pomp presides
In some fair body thus the informing soul
With spirits feeds, with vigor fills the whole,
Each motion guides and every nerve sustains,
Itself unseen, but in the effects remains.
Some, to whom Heaven in wit has been profuse, [80]
Want as much more, to turn it to its use;
For wit and judgment often are at strife,
Though meant each other's aid, like man and wife.
'Tis more to guide, than spur the muse's steed,
Restrain his fury, than provoke his speed,
The winged courser, like a generous horse, [86]
Shows most true mettle when you check his course.
Those rules, of old discovered, not devised,
Are nature still, but nature methodized;
Nature, like liberty, is but restrained
By the same laws which first herself ordained.
Hear how learned Greece her useful rules indites,
When to repress and when indulge our flights.
High on Parnassus' top her sons she showed, [94]
And pointed out those arduous paths they trod;
Held from afar, aloft, the immortal prize,
And urged the rest by equal steps to rise. [97]
Just precepts thus from great examples given,
She drew from them what they derived from Heaven.
The generous critic fanned the poet's fire,
And taught the world with reason to admire.
Then criticism the muse's handmaid proved,
To dress her charms, and make her more beloved:
But following wits from that intention strayed
Who could not win the mistress, wooed the maid
Against the poets their own arms they turned
Sure to hate most the men from whom they learned
So modern pothecaries taught the art
By doctors bills to play the doctor's part.
Bold in the practice of mistaken rules
Prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools.
Some on the leaves of ancient authors prey,
Nor time nor moths e'er spoil so much as they.
Some dryly plain, without invention's aid,
Write dull receipts how poems may be made
These leave the sense their learning to display,
And those explain the meaning quite away.
You then, whose judgment the right course would steer,
Know well each ancient's proper character,
His fable subject scope in every page,
Religion, country, genius of his age
Without all these at once before your eyes,
Cavil you may, but never criticise.
Be Homers works your study and delight,
Read them by day and meditate by night,
Thence form your judgment thence your maxims bring
And trace the muses upward to their spring.
Still with itself compared, his text peruse,
And let your comment be the Mantuan Muse. [129]
When first young Maro in his boundless mind, [130]
A work to outlast immortal Rome designed,
Perhaps he seemed above the critic's law
And but from nature's fountain scorned to draw
But when to examine every part he came
Nature and Homer were he found the same
Convinced, amazed, he checks the bold design
And rules as strict his labored work confine
As if the Stagirite o'erlooked each line [138]
Learn hence for ancient rules a just esteem,
To copy nature is to copy them.
Some beauties yet no precepts can declare,
For there's a happiness as well as care.
Music resembles poetry--in each
Are nameless graces which no methods teach,
And which a master hand alone can reach
If, where the rules not far enough extend
(Since rules were made but to promote their end),
Some lucky license answer to the full
The intent proposed that license is a rule.
Thus Pegasus a nearer way to take
May boldly deviate from the common track
Great wits sometimes may gloriously offend,
And rise to faults true critics dare not mend,
From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part,
And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art,
Which without passing through the judgment gains
The heart and all its end at once attains.
In prospects, thus, some objects please our eyes,
Which out of nature's common order rise,
The shapeless rock or hanging precipice.
But though the ancients thus their rules invade
(As kings dispense with laws themselves have made),
Moderns beware! or if you must offend
Against the precept, ne'er transgress its end,
Let it be seldom, and compelled by need,
And have, at least, their precedent to plead.
The critic else proceeds without remorse,
Seizes your fame, and puts his laws in force.
I know there are, to whose presumptuous thoughts
Those freer beauties, even in them, seem faults
Some figures monstrous and misshaped appear,
Considered singly, or beheld too near,
Which, but proportioned to their light, or place,
Due distance reconciles to form and grace.
A prudent chief not always must display
His powers in equal ranks and fair array,
But with the occasion and the place comply.
Conceal his force, nay, seem sometimes to fly.
Those oft are stratagems which errors seem,
Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream. [180]
Still green with bays each ancient altar stands,
Above the reach of sacrilegious hands,
Secure from flames, from envy's fiercer rage, [183]
Destructive war, and all-involving age.
See, from each clime the learned their incense bring;
Hear, in all tongues consenting Paeans ring!
In praise so just let every voice be joined,
And fill the general chorus of mankind.
Hail! bards triumphant! born in happier days;
Immortal heirs of universal praise!
Whose honors with increase of ages grow,
As streams roll down, enlarging as they flow;
Nations unborn your mighty names shall sound, [193]
And worlds applaud that must not yet be found!
Oh may some spark of your celestial fire,
The last, the meanest of your sons inspire,
(That, on weak wings, from far pursues your flights,
Glows while he reads, but trembles as he writes),
To teach vain wits a science little known,
To admire superior sense, and doubt their own!
* * * * *
PART II.
Of all the causes which conspire to blind
Man's erring judgment and misguide the mind,
What the weak head with strongest bias rules,
Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.
Whatever nature has in worth denied,
She gives in large recruits of needful pride;
For as in bodies, thus in souls, we find
What wants in blood and spirits, swelled with wind:
Pride where wit fails steps in to our defense,
And fills up all the mighty void of sense.
If once right reason drives that cloud away,
Truth breaks upon us with resistless day
Trust not yourself, but your defects to know,
Make use of every friend--and every foe.
A little learning is a dangerous thing
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring [216]
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.
Tired at first sight with what the muse imparts,
In fearless youth we tempt the heights of arts
While from the bounded level of our mind
Short views we take nor see the lengths behind
But more advanced behold with strange surprise,
New distant scenes of endless science rise!
So pleased at first the towering Alps we try,
Mount o'er the vales and seem to tread the sky,
The eternal snows appear already passed
And the first clouds and mountains seem the last.
But those attained we tremble to survey
The growing labors of the lengthened way
The increasing prospect tires our wandering eyes,
Hills peep o'er hills and Alps on Alps arise!
A perfect judge will read each work of wit
With the same spirit that its author writ
Survey the whole nor seek slight faults to find
Where nature moves and rapture warms the mind,
Nor lose for that malignant dull delight
The generous pleasure to be charmed with wit
But in such lays as neither ebb nor flow,
Correctly cold and regularly low
That, shunning faults, one quiet tenor keep;
We cannot blame indeed--but we may sleep.
In wit, as nature, what affects our hearts
Is not the exactness of peculiar parts,
'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call,
But the joint force and full result of all.
Thus, when we view some well proportioned dome
(The worlds just wonder, and even thine, O Rome!), [248]
No single parts unequally surprise,
All comes united to the admiring eyes;
No monstrous height or breadth, or length, appear;
The whole at once is bold, and regular.
Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see.
Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.
In every work regard the writer's end,
Since none can compass more than they intend;
And if the means be just, the conduct true,
Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due.
As men of breeding, sometimes men of wit,
To avoid great errors, must the less commit:
Neglect the rules each verbal critic lays,
For not to know some trifles is a praise.
Most critics, fond of some subservient art,
Still make the whole depend upon a part:
They talk of principles, but notions prize,
And all to one loved folly sacrifice.
Once on a time La Mancha's knight, they say, [267]
A certain bard encountering on the way,
Discoursed in terms as just, with looks as sage,
As e'er could Dennis, of the Grecian stage; [270]
Concluding all were desperate sots and fools,
Who durst depart from Aristotle's rules
Our author, happy in a judge so nice,
Produced his play, and begged the knight's advice;
Made him observe the subject, and the plot,
The manners, passions, unities, what not?
All which, exact to rule, were brought about,
Were but a combat in the lists left out
"What! leave the combat out?" exclaims the knight.
"Yes, or we must renounce the Stagirite."
"Not so, by heaven!" (he answers in a rage)
"Knights, squires, and steeds must enter on the stage."
"So vast a throng the stage can ne'er contain."
"Then build a new, or act it in a plain."
Thus critics of less judgment than caprice,
Curious, not knowing, not exact, but nice,
Form short ideas, and offend in arts
(As most in manners) by a love to parts.
Some to conceit alone their taste confine,
And glittering thoughts struck out at every line;
Pleased with a work where nothing's just or fit;
One glaring chaos and wild heap of wit.
Poets, like painters, thus, unskilled to trace
The naked nature and the living grace,
With gold and jewels cover every part,
And hide with ornaments their want of art.
True wit is nature to advantage dressed;
What oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed;
Something, whose truth convinced at sight we find
That gives us back the image of our mind.
As shades more sweetly recommend the light,
So modest plainness sets off sprightly wit
For works may have more wit than does them good,
As bodies perish through excess of blood.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Welcome to Intro to Poetry - a Poetry of Change
This class is about poetry. An introduction to poetry. Though that statement certainly sounds vague—and obvious, in light of this course’s title—it helps us realize how expansive the art form is. As the preface to your anthology states, “Poetry . . . encourages us to embrace paradox and contradiction, the unexpected, the never-thought-of (and also paradoxically, the universal, the shared, the familiar).” In a similar way, definitions of poetry are equally as vague—there are nearly as many different definitions as there are poets. Alexander Pope felt the best poetry was what was “oft thought, but ne’er so well expressed.” For Coleridge it was “the best words in the best order.” No matter how we might differ in our definitions, the one constant that we can place upon poetry is that it is always changing—and that change is governed by influence, both positive and negative. In a sense, all art moves forward in this manner; that is, artists react to prior conventions, both through incorporation and by the throwing off of prior conventions. The poet is both alone at the desk and surrounded by every other voice to have "uttered" verse. The poet's work exists to the private satisfaction of the poet himself/herself, but also in the public sphere of society/history/posterity, or whatever name one wants to place upon the masses.
Since it would be impossible to cover thousands of years of verse in three months, we will use the constant time-line of influence to help focus our study. Harold Bloom has said that poets contend with, even as they are inspired by, earlier poets, in an effort to assert their own priority. In this way we can consider the movements of poetry—evolving formal structures, themes, visions, etc.—as well as the individual poem. This will allow for an examination of both the private and public implications of the poetry we read, which seems appropriate; after all, poetry is always aimed both inward at the self and outward toward humanity.
The philosophy of this course is just that, that poetry is both public and private, simultaneously, whatever the intentions of the poet - once it has been written and published, the ideas inhabiting a poem cease to be only the poet's. For this reason, literature is often a powerful and volatile political space where artists grapple with the culture at large. Seeing literature as more than just "telling a story" requires a shift in thinking. It requires that we displace our own preconceptions, stereotypes, biases (we all have them) and approach the text objectively. It requires that we think of literature as a kind of machine; each text has a function and produces an effect. I think it was Walt Whitman who said that poetry is a small or large machine made out of words. Machines don't mean something; they do something. Our task will be to investigate what these dramatic texts are trying to do.
As a teacher, I am not governed by the notion that there is only one correct reading or interpretation of any literary work. Rather, my hope is that by the end of the semester you will be able to appreciate the many effects of any given poem. Early in the semester, I won’t expect you to be an expert on literary matters. I do, however, expect you to share your reactions and questions. As the semester progresses, you will become better versed in the methods of critical reading, and as result, will also become a more articulate, discerning, and critical writer.
Please be aware that many of the poems that we will read and consider will come from poets with widely different backgrounds and the poems will often deal with decidedly provocative issues including class, race and racism, sexuality, religion, politics, etc. We will, at times, encounter coarse language. You know your level of tolerance concerning such matters; it's up to you whether to stay in the course or seek another one more in line with your personal tastes/opinions. If you elect to stay, please know that we will not discuss whether a poet's ideas are moral/immoral, proper/improper, etc. Rudeness regarding such matters will not be tolerated and offenders will be asked to leave the class. The goal of learning to read literature is seeing beyond one's own experience and worldviews.
Welcome aboard,
Jamie Thomas
* * * * * *
Tentative Course Schedule
This schedule will evolve as the class progresses. Changes will be announced both on my blog and on WebCT. Full instructions for the items on this list, including page numbers will be posted as they become available. Unless otherwise noted, all blog assignments and discussion questions will be assigned on Monday and due by Sunday. All readings unless noted will be from the Norton Anthology of Poetry. Other readings will be provided in handout form/online at my blog and on WebCT.
Week
8.20
Course Intro (review syllabus, policies, and visit
http://intro2poetryhouston.blogspot.com/– Intro to Poetry
Reading: Versification and Poetic Syntax pp. 2027-2073
Alexander Pope (pp. 596-598, lines 1-300)
Discussion online
Blog Assn. Getting started on Blogger (Due 8/27)
8.27 [English Romantics]
Reading: Blake – from Songs of Innocence
“Introduction”
“Holy Thursday”
“The Divine Image”
from Songs of Experience
“A Divine Image”
“Holy Thursday (II)”
“London”
Wordsworth – “Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey”
“London, 1802”
“Ode: Intimations of Immortality”
Coleridge - “Frost at Midnight”
“Dejection: an Ode”
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 9/1
9.3
Reading: Byron – “Written after Swimming from Sestos to Abydos”
“She Walks in Beauty”
Shelly – “Stanzas Written in Dejection, Near Naples”
“England in 1819”
“Ode to the West Wind”
Keats – “On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer”
“Ode on Melancholy”
“To Autumn”
“This Living Hand”
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 9/8
9.10 [American Romanticism]
Reading: Whitman, Emerson, Dickinson (poems forthcoming)
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 9/15
9.17 [Victorian to Modern]
Reading: Hardy, Hopkins, Yeats, Robinson, Houseman
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 9/22
(Paper #1 assigned)
9.24 [Modernism (Imagism)]
Reading: Pound, Eliot, Amy Lowell, Stein, H.D., William Carlos Williams
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 9/29
10.1
Discussion online – Paper Proposals/Progress
Strategies for writing about poetry (handouts forthcoming)
Paper #1: Due 10/7
10.8 [Modernism cont.]
Reading: Lawrence, Stevens, Moore, Hart Crane, Auden, Macleish
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 10/13
10.15
Reading: Frost, Sandburg, Cummings, Dylan Thomas, Millay
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 10/20
10/22 [Harlem Renaissance and Black Arts Movement]
Reading: Hughes, Cullen, Toomer – Baraka, Brooks, Lorde (further
handouts forthcoming)
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 10/27
10.29 [Contemporary]
Reading: Bishop, Berryman, Jarrell, Larkin, Rukeyser, Creely, Hayden,
Roethke
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 11/3
11.5 [Beats & N.Y. School]
Reading: Corso, Ferlinghetti, Ginsberg – Ashbery, Koch, Schuyler, O’Hara
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 11/10
(Paper #2 assigned)
11.12 [Confessional Poets]
Reading: Plath, Robert Lowell, Snodgrass, Sexton, James Wright, Bly
(further handouts forthcoming)
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 11/17
11.19
Paper # 2 Proposals (Discussion online)
THANKSGIVING BREAK
11.26
Disscussion/Virtual Workshop
Semester Wrap-up
Paper #2 Due 12/5
Since it would be impossible to cover thousands of years of verse in three months, we will use the constant time-line of influence to help focus our study. Harold Bloom has said that poets contend with, even as they are inspired by, earlier poets, in an effort to assert their own priority. In this way we can consider the movements of poetry—evolving formal structures, themes, visions, etc.—as well as the individual poem. This will allow for an examination of both the private and public implications of the poetry we read, which seems appropriate; after all, poetry is always aimed both inward at the self and outward toward humanity.
The philosophy of this course is just that, that poetry is both public and private, simultaneously, whatever the intentions of the poet - once it has been written and published, the ideas inhabiting a poem cease to be only the poet's. For this reason, literature is often a powerful and volatile political space where artists grapple with the culture at large. Seeing literature as more than just "telling a story" requires a shift in thinking. It requires that we displace our own preconceptions, stereotypes, biases (we all have them) and approach the text objectively. It requires that we think of literature as a kind of machine; each text has a function and produces an effect. I think it was Walt Whitman who said that poetry is a small or large machine made out of words. Machines don't mean something; they do something. Our task will be to investigate what these dramatic texts are trying to do.
As a teacher, I am not governed by the notion that there is only one correct reading or interpretation of any literary work. Rather, my hope is that by the end of the semester you will be able to appreciate the many effects of any given poem. Early in the semester, I won’t expect you to be an expert on literary matters. I do, however, expect you to share your reactions and questions. As the semester progresses, you will become better versed in the methods of critical reading, and as result, will also become a more articulate, discerning, and critical writer.
Please be aware that many of the poems that we will read and consider will come from poets with widely different backgrounds and the poems will often deal with decidedly provocative issues including class, race and racism, sexuality, religion, politics, etc. We will, at times, encounter coarse language. You know your level of tolerance concerning such matters; it's up to you whether to stay in the course or seek another one more in line with your personal tastes/opinions. If you elect to stay, please know that we will not discuss whether a poet's ideas are moral/immoral, proper/improper, etc. Rudeness regarding such matters will not be tolerated and offenders will be asked to leave the class. The goal of learning to read literature is seeing beyond one's own experience and worldviews.
Welcome aboard,
Jamie Thomas
* * * * * *
Tentative Course Schedule
This schedule will evolve as the class progresses. Changes will be announced both on my blog and on WebCT. Full instructions for the items on this list, including page numbers will be posted as they become available. Unless otherwise noted, all blog assignments and discussion questions will be assigned on Monday and due by Sunday. All readings unless noted will be from the Norton Anthology of Poetry. Other readings will be provided in handout form/online at my blog and on WebCT.
Week
8.20
Course Intro (review syllabus, policies, and visit
http://intro2poetryhouston.blogspot.com/– Intro to Poetry
Reading: Versification and Poetic Syntax pp. 2027-2073
Alexander Pope (pp. 596-598, lines 1-300)
Discussion online
Blog Assn. Getting started on Blogger (Due 8/27)
8.27 [English Romantics]
Reading: Blake – from Songs of Innocence
“Introduction”
“Holy Thursday”
“The Divine Image”
from Songs of Experience
“A Divine Image”
“Holy Thursday (II)”
“London”
Wordsworth – “Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey”
“London, 1802”
“Ode: Intimations of Immortality”
Coleridge - “Frost at Midnight”
“Dejection: an Ode”
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 9/1
9.3
Reading: Byron – “Written after Swimming from Sestos to Abydos”
“She Walks in Beauty”
Shelly – “Stanzas Written in Dejection, Near Naples”
“England in 1819”
“Ode to the West Wind”
Keats – “On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer”
“Ode on Melancholy”
“To Autumn”
“This Living Hand”
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 9/8
9.10 [American Romanticism]
Reading: Whitman, Emerson, Dickinson (poems forthcoming)
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 9/15
9.17 [Victorian to Modern]
Reading: Hardy, Hopkins, Yeats, Robinson, Houseman
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 9/22
(Paper #1 assigned)
9.24 [Modernism (Imagism)]
Reading: Pound, Eliot, Amy Lowell, Stein, H.D., William Carlos Williams
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 9/29
10.1
Discussion online – Paper Proposals/Progress
Strategies for writing about poetry (handouts forthcoming)
Paper #1: Due 10/7
10.8 [Modernism cont.]
Reading: Lawrence, Stevens, Moore, Hart Crane, Auden, Macleish
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 10/13
10.15
Reading: Frost, Sandburg, Cummings, Dylan Thomas, Millay
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 10/20
10/22 [Harlem Renaissance and Black Arts Movement]
Reading: Hughes, Cullen, Toomer – Baraka, Brooks, Lorde (further
handouts forthcoming)
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 10/27
10.29 [Contemporary]
Reading: Bishop, Berryman, Jarrell, Larkin, Rukeyser, Creely, Hayden,
Roethke
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 11/3
11.5 [Beats & N.Y. School]
Reading: Corso, Ferlinghetti, Ginsberg – Ashbery, Koch, Schuyler, O’Hara
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 11/10
(Paper #2 assigned)
11.12 [Confessional Poets]
Reading: Plath, Robert Lowell, Snodgrass, Sexton, James Wright, Bly
(further handouts forthcoming)
Discussion online
Blog Assignment: Due 11/17
11.19
Paper # 2 Proposals (Discussion online)
THANKSGIVING BREAK
11.26
Disscussion/Virtual Workshop
Semester Wrap-up
Paper #2 Due 12/5
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