5 posts tagged “william”

Wordsworth's note on the poem reads that, "No poem of mine was composed under circumstances more pleasant for me to remember than this. I began it upon leaving Tintern, after crossing the Wye, and concluded it just as I was entering Bristol in the evening, after a ramble of 4 or 5 days with my sister" (258).

Our note tells us that "Wordsworth had visited Tintern Abby [...] while on a solitary walking tour in August 1793, when he was twenty-three years old" (258).

The poem is a sort-of meditation on life, in which Wordsworth places his narrator at a moment in time and looks back to the past, and then ahead to the future through his sister. It begins with a reflection on the lovely pastoral setting, and the effects its memory has had upon Wordsworth throughout his life. He says:

These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration: - feelings too
Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered, acts
Of kindness and of love (259).

The idea that nature can have a lasting and profound "influence on that best portion of a good man's life, his [...] acts of kindness and of love" is an excellent example of the ideas of English romanticism. Romanticism was "a reaction against the rationalization of nature [...] In art and literature it stressed strong emotion as a source of aesthetic experience, placing new emphasis on such emotions as trepidation, horror, and the awe experienced in confronting the sublimity of nature" (Wikipedia).

When Wordsworth was a child he was given free-run of the countryside in the sparsely populated area near Esthwaite Lake, and here, according to our introduction, developed his love for the pastoral as well as for poetry. In the poem he reflects upon his passionate childhood communion with nature.

The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colours and their forms, were then to me
An appetite; a feeling and a love,
That had no need of a remoter charm (260).

By describing his youthful experience as "an appetite" Wordsworth sets up the contrast between his youth with a pure, unnamed appreciation of nature, and the mature, studied appreciation of adulthood.

I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue (260).

This "still, sad music of humanity", what you could almost call the equivalent of William Blake's concept of 'experience', subdues the wild fancies of youth and forces Wordsworth to view nature from a matured perspective. It is nature in the context of larger society and human concerns. 

The "sister" in the poem is Dorothy, who in 1795 settled with Will in Dorsetshire and became his, quote: "confidant, inspirer, and secretary". Within the context of the poem she inspires the narrator to reflect upon his youth.

Thou art with me here upon the banks
Of this fair river; thou my dearest Friend,
My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch
The language of my former heart, and read
My former pleasures in the shooting lights
Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while
May I behold in thee what I was once,
My dear, dear Sister! (261)

Though time, age and experience have changed him, Wordsworth still remembers the "language of [his] former heart" - and sees in his sister's eyes the wild passion that has stayed with him and influenced him so greatly over the years. Through his sister he feels he can better appreciate and understand the inclinations of his youth by vicariously experiencing her "pure" communion with nature. He closes the poem saying,

After many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,
And this green pastoral landscape, were to me
More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake! (261-2).

Tintern Abbey was written in blank verse, in the form of a reflective monologue.

Justin Dewey

Professor John Larkin

English Literature: 18^th Century to Present

26 January 2006

Created to Fall: A Look at The Book of Thel

The poem “The Book of Thel” by William Blake begins with a description of Thel addressing the river of Adona, perhaps ever speaking to her reflection in the water – pondering aloud, and she is overheard by the Lilly. Thel is contemplating her mortality as she observes the transience of the world around her.

O life of this our spring! why fades the lotus of the water,
Why fade these children of the spring, born but to smile & fall?
Ah! Thel is like a wat'ry bow, & like a parting cloud;
Like a reflection in a glass; like shadows in the water;
Like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infant's face;
Like the dove's voice; like transient day; like music in the air. (98)

Thel is alike to Eve bereaved of Eden. She has lost her innocence and become a mortal - but not in the same way. Thel's fall is an awakening. She becomes aware of her mortality and it begins to weigh on her. “Thel is like” these things. Thel is part of this “transient” world. She will fade like the lotus, and her greatest fear is that she was “born but to smile & fall”. Thel is searching for meaning in her impermanent stay on the mortal coil, in the turn on the wheel, as all rational beings would upon realizing their fragile state.

The Lilly, who responds to this queery, would have Thel put her faith in God, who made all things with purpose, and put all things in their proper place – telling her story of “the gardener” who 'planted' the Lilly there and provided for it through its time. He tells the flower to “Rejoice” because it “shalt be enclosed in light, and fed with morning mana, / Till summer's heat melts [it] beside the fountains and the springs / To flourish in eternal vales” (98). In other words, the Lilly will be nourished with sunlight and dew in the morning, until it dies and becomes a Lilly in heaven. The Lilly doesn't have any proof that this is true – that it has its place in the world and a place in the afterlife, it only has the word of the Gardener and its innocent faith. The Lilly doesn't question, and so it cannot appreciate Thel's dilema. “Then why should Thel complain” (99) it asks, completely missing the point. Thel can appreciate the Lilly, but she cannot find meaning for herself. “Thel is like a faint cloud kindled at the rising sun: / I vanish from my pearly throne, and who shall find my place?” (99)

Thel is not convinced, and so the Lilly directs her to the Cloud. Again Thel asks “Why thou complainest not when in one hour thou fade away” (100). She wants to know what makes life worth living; what brings contentment with the bell tolling for thee? The Cloud replies with a similar sentiment to the Lilly, that it has no fear because when it passes away it will “to tenfold life, to love, to peace, and raptures holy” (100). The Cloud also speaks of his purpose, but gives no reasons for its confidence of place and continuence in the afterlife. It also maintains innocent faith, and also can't offer Thel any real help.

Dost thou, O little Cloud? I fear that I am not like thee,

For I walk thro' the vales of Har, & smell the sweetest flowers,

But I feed not the little flowers; I hear the warbling birds,

But I feed not the warbling birds; they fly & seek their food:

But Thel delights in these no more, because I fade away;

And all shall say, 'Without a use this shining woman liv'd,

Or did she only live to be at death the food of worms?' (100)

She can appreciate the Cloud as she could the Lilly, but she is not like them. She believes that, unlike the Cloud who provides for the flowers and birds, she is “without a use” except perhaps as the “food of worms”. Thel, again unconvinced, is sent by the cloud to the Worm which Thel professed to feed, and seek her answer. The Worm, interestingly, only weeps, and in Thel's eyes seems to represent helplessness and vulnerability. It is then the Clod of Clay comes in to nurture the Worm. It explains to Thel that “we live not for ourselves”. The Clod offers Thel more than any of the others could with this wisdom, the idea of altruism and virtuous life, but even if Thel sees purpose she cannot help but fall short of its perfection. Though the Clay speaks wisdom, it still belongs to the innocent world of the Lilly and Cloud. “How this is, sweet maid, I know not and I cannot know; / I ponder, and I cannot ponder; yet I live and love” (101).

The Clog, of course, comes from the Earth, or as Blake calls it “the matron Clay”. Earth is a land of mortality, and inevitably where Thel must go. It is also the world of the fallen – and therefore stripped of the innocence that Thel has been rejecting in her world, her Eden. The matron Clay speaks to Thel: “Wilt thou, O Queen, enter my house? 'tis given thee to enter / And to return” (101). Thel enters, and gains the boon of experience. She is forever changed. “Thel enter'd in & saw the secrets of the land unknown. / She saw the couches of the dead, and where the fibrous roots / Of every heart on earth infixes deep its restless twists: / A land of sorrows and of tears where never smile was seen” (101). To Blake the Earth is the land of the dead – a brief pause before eternal death. It is also a world of suffering. Thel is immersed in this “land of sorrows” and finally comes face to face with her own death, and must face her greatest fear. She sits beside her own open grave and from the “hollow pit” a “voice of sorrow” breathes the great question of the poem, the most important question. It is the question Blake feels man must ask, who is made different than the rest of creation: why are we created with the terrible burdens of reason and intelligence?

Why cannot the Ear be closed to its own destruction?

Or the glist'ning Eye to the poison of a smile?

Why are Eyelids stor'd with arrows ready drawn,

Where a thousand fighting men in ambush lie?

Or an Eye of gifts and graces show'ring fruits and coined gold?

Why a Tongue impress'd with honey from every wind?

Why an Ear, a whirlpool fierce to draw creations in?

Why a Nostril wide inhaling terror, trembling, and affright?

Why a tender curb upon the youthful burning boy?

Why a little curtain of flesh on the bed of our desire? (101-2)

Thel's lot, like that of humanity, is to comprehend her mortality and be unsatisfied. Because she is uncontent, she is doomed to sin. Sin is a product of her creation. The senses of the body, which Blake uses in several of his poems to represent the sensory world, conjure desire, greed, gluttony, envy, fear, and more sufferings. Thel discovers to her horror that because of how man is designed, he cannot help but fall into sin. Her reaction is clear – “The Virgin started from her seat, & with a shriek / Fled back unhindered” (102) – she chooses innocence over humanity and experience, but because of her nature she will always fall.

Works Cited:

Greenblatt, Stephen et al. The Norton Anthology of English Literature: Volume Two, Eigth Edition. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2006.

(this essay may not be used or reproduced without the expressed consent of the author)

We were discussing Blake in class again today and I revisited some of my highlighted passages from The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. Blake places a lot of emphasis on the dual nature of humanity - how our being is divided between the forces of 'reason' and 'energy'. Reason, a product of the mind and related to Heaven; and energy, a product of the body and related to Hell. The important relationship between these two forces, for Blake, is that one cannot function without the other. Without this dichotomy there is no progress. "Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to human existence" (112). Without some opposition, some obstacle or internal conflict, we become like stagnant water. "The man who never alters his opinion is like standing water, & breeds reptiles of the mind" (118). At least this message in Blake I can relate to. If you remain stubbornly immobile in your life, you let your demons reign. The passage makes me think Beowulf, and the stagnant reptile-filled water from while Grendel emerges - driven by an unnamed rage. One of my strong beliefs is in the importance of self improvement. Not just improving upon what you can do or how you can do it, or some kind of material gain, but improving who you are and how you react to the different obstacles you encounter. I find that often, without realizing it, people excuse their habitual attitudes because they're habitual. There is nothing you can't change about yourself, and the only difference between who you are and who you want to be is the willpower and honest desire to change. I try, at least, to be constantly in the act of improving myself and my attitudes, and overcoming old negative habits. I am not "standing water" - but open to new ideas and like a river to fresh rain... and I keep those ideas moving.  If I didn't have energy, what Blake considers the sensory striving of the body in a material world, then there would be nothing for reason to overcome, and reason would be weak - my life stagnant. On the other hand without reason the energy of humanity would propel us like a fireball into chaos. 

(Blake, William - The Marriage of Heaven and Hell)

I read a lot more Blake today for my Brit. Lit. course. He has two pieces called There Is No Natural Religion. One defends the claim in the title, that morality is learned and not innate. The other, which seems to reflect Blake's stance on the issue, asserts the opposite - claiming that, on the contrary, morality and holy nature is within us all. A few quotes from the later were appealing to me:

"If any could desire what he is incapable of possessing, despair must be his eternal lot" (81).

"He who sees the Infinite in all things sees God" (81).

The first is a bit of wisdom. Desire, one of the poisonous attitudes, only leads to suffering - especially when coupled with unrealistic expectations or when the object of desire is unattainable. The second I found interesting because it makes me think of Hinduism and the Brahman to which all things infinite belong. Namasté!

EDIT: "If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern" (116).

This last quote is from The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, which I revisited in class today. It seems closely related to the passage above from There Is No Natural Religion. I think this is the zenith of Blakean wisdom. It's clear he saw something wrong with the way mankind perceives reality, and that the problem is a one of our own design. It is our mistake, we have closed ourselves up - cut ourselves off from the true nature of things with walls of ignorance and misconception as thick as stone.

I just read William Blake's The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. There were a few passages I especially liked, but most of all I enjoyed a few of Hell's proverbs:

"A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees"

"No bird soars too high, if he sours with his own wings"

"The most sublime act is to set another before you"

"Always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid you"

"Truth can never be told so as to be understood, and not be believ'd"