Category Archives: Literature

Thomas Campion: When to Her Lute Corinna Sings

30 Tuesday Jun 2020

Posted by in Literature

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

This little song by Thomas Campion (1567-1620) speaks of the beauty of Corinna’s voice as she sings. The poem works in two stanzas with a quick development of a seemingly simple idea. And yet this simple idea in its perfectly balanced symmetry of concept and structure is deceptive. 

When to her lute Corinna sings

Her voice revives the leaden strings, 

And doth in highest notes appear

As any challenged echo clear;

But when she doth of mourning speak

Ev’n with her signs the strings do break. 

And as her lute doth live or die,

Led by her passion, so must I:

For when of pleasure she doth sing,

My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring,

But if she doth of sorrow speak,

Ev’n from my heart the strings do break.

In the first stanza, the lute which accompanies her voice is made better and is commanded by the beauty of her song. The strings are “lead” until they are revived by her voice. The word “revived” is interesting, because it is to live again – not to live at all. But it seems the idea is that the lute is silent until Corinna starts to sing. 

Accompanied by her lute, Corinna sings “to her lute”.  The singer and the lute form a closed circle. The strings come to life (as presumably did last time only to die when she stopped singing last); and the strings become filled with sorrow, when her voice becomes filled with sorrow. 

This reminds of Orpheus, whose song could make rocks and trees dance. As Shakespeare’s short poem reads:

ORPHEUS 

Orpheus with his lute made trees

And the mountain tops that freeze

    Bow themselves when he did sing:

To his music plants and flowers

Ever sprung; as sun and showers

    There had made a lasting spring.

Every thing that heard him play,

Even the billows of the sea,

    Hung their heads and then lay by.

In sweet music is such art,

    Killing care and grief of heart

    Fall asleep, or hearing, die.

That remarkable power of song then works not merely upon the inanimate lute, but upon the poet.  The poet enters this closed circle: What happens between Corinna and the lute now brings him into its charm: 

And as her lute doth live or die,

Led by her passion, so must I:

The passions in Corinna’s voice bring along the poet. The lute which perhaps changes insensibly changes the sensible poet. The passions of her voice are so profound that he no longer has say over himself:

So must I. 

It is involuntary. 

The circle is then completely closed: the poet is subsumed back into the image of the lute. Note the progression here from “thoughts” (which belong to the man), to “strings” which belong to the lute:

For when of pleasure she doth sing,

My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring,

But if she doth of sorrow speak,

Ev’n from my heart the strings do break.

His very heart has become the lute. This ability to bring the conceit (the controlling thought) from lute to poet to lute is an aspect which raises Campion from the great mass of versifiers. 

There is then one final twist to the poem: the poem itself is an artifact. Corinna is gone. I have no idea who she is. Her voice was there in a moment and has disappeared forever. But this poem remains being as the echo of her voice

And doth in highest notes appear

As any challenged echo clear;

The reader who follows along with Campion can, by the work of imagination, enter into this circle of Corinna and her lute by means of the poem. Corinna’s voice does charm by means of this echo and we enter into this singular moment by means of the poem from 400 years ago. 

And in that the moment is no loner singular, but is transported across time and space. Such things may not “mean” anything to the great powers of countries and armies and economies and science. But there is a beauty here in art which should make the mighty blush. The politics of James (King of England) cannot affect now like Corinna’s song has by means of Campion’s poem.

One final note: I have always found it striking that the Bible routinely portrays heaven as filled with music.

The soprano Jennifer O’Loughlin:

A Comparison of Tennyson and Edward Taylor

26 Friday Jun 2020

Posted by in Edward Taylor, Tennyson

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , ,

(This lovely picture is entitled “Alaska Moonlight” by JLS Photography.)

St. Agnes’ Eve by Tennyson forms an interesting counterpart to the Taylor’s Was There a Palace of Pure Gold (Meditation 24).  Both poems are driven by the desire to be with God.  

Both concern a present a present desire to be with God and the need to be fit for such a translation. But despite the similar concern the effect and content of both poems is remarkably different. 

The First Stanza:

Deep on the convent-roof the snows 

Are sparkling to the moon: 

My breath to heaven like vapour goes; 

May my soul follow soon! 

The shadows of the convent-towers 

Slant down the snowy sward, 

Still creeping with the creeping hours 

That lead me to my Lord: 

Make Thou my spirit pure and clear 

As are the frosty skies, 

Or this first snowdrop of the year 

That in my bosom lies. 

Summary: The poet is perhaps a nun of some sort “the convent-roof”; or at least a deeply religious person. One a cold night, while looking over the moonlight snow, the poet’s breath fogs and lifts toward heaven. That leads to a thought of the poet’s soul likewise ascending:

My breath to heaven like vapour goes; 

May my soul follow soon! 

In this desire to be with God, the present time consists of “shadow” and “creeping hours”.  Thus, the prayer that the poet’s spirit may ascend. Like Taylor the poet prays that the soul be purified, “Make thou my spirit pure and clear.” But unlike Taylor there is no meditation on one’s own sinfulness. In fact, the sense is different. The poet’s mediation is made a convent and the sense is a cold, chaste, unworldly desire. 

There are two other marked differences between the poets. Taylor rhythm and imagery are complex, contradictory, often jarring. But Tennyson writes great polish. 

The rhythm is meticulous held in check to draw attention precisely as the poet intends:

DEEP on the CONvent-ROOF the SNOWS 

Are SPARKling TO the MOON: 

My BREATH to HEAven like VAPour GOES; 

MAY my SOUL FOLlow SOON! 

The initial deep slows down the entire scene. The line break, the semicolon and the two accented syllables slow down the movement of the verse and throw the emphasis on the initial syllable of the prayer, “MAY”. 

The imagery is all of a picture: nothing which is not organic to the scene intrudes. A cold night, the snow, the moon, the freezing breath are all of the same event.  

Taylor by contrast would draw together images which have a certain conceptual link, even if in “nature” they would never be found together. Taylor would bring together any number of beautiful images, even if those images have no natural correspondence in the “real world.” I could image Taylor writing of moonlight and the glint of a fish’s scales and the sunshine and a white flower and a ruby, because they all flash light: eventhough sun and moon can never both shine at once.

Here is another similarity to Taylor. Tennyson’s prayer acknowledges an unfitness for heaven, robes are “soiled”, the candle is pale, earthy. Taylor would rail and bemoan his unfitness. Tennyson is more Platonic and less moral. Tennyson sees the physical body as an ontological impediment. Taylor seems the human trouble as more profound.  Both speak of new clothes, but Taylor is more desperate and disgusted. Tennyson sees the current trouble being merely the need for an invitation to ascend:

As these white robes are soil’d and dark, 

To yonder shining ground; 

As this pale taper’s earthly spark, 

To yonder argent round; 

So shows my soul before the Lamb, 

My spirit before Thee; 

So in mine earthly house I am, 

To that I hope to be. 

Break up the heavens, O Lord! and far, 

Thro’ all yon starlight keen, 

Draw me, thy bride, a glittering star, 

In raiment white and clean. 

When Tennyson comes to the doors of heaven, he will be cleared of “sin”; it will be a purging at that time and place,

For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits, 

To make me pure of sin. 

Taylor too sees the need for the work to be on God’s side: “Oh! That my heart was made thy golden box.” And both see that they will be admitted by God’s grace. But there is one point on which they profoundly differ:

He lifts me to the golden doors; 

The flashes come and go; 

All heaven bursts her starry floors, 

And strows her lights below, 

And deepens on and up! the gates 

Roll back, and far within 

For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits, 

To make me pure of sin. 

The sabbaths of Eternity, 

One sabbath deep and wide— 

A light upon the shining sea— 

The Bridegroom with his bride! 

In Tennyson’s poem, the one who is praying has no conflict in the passions. The desire to be God is perfect and consistent: just like the flow of the poem’s language. All of is a consistent piece. The poet desires to be God. The poet trusts that God will work and raise the poet up. 

Taylor too has faith in God’s work and a desire to be God. But in Taylor there is a profound sense of the conflict and inconsistency of religious desire.  

Tennyson’s prayer contains no conflicting emotion.  The covenant towers which reach up toward heaven cast moon-shadows upon the earth. Time on earth creeps. The breath and soul ascend to God by their own nature movement. 

Taylor objectively sees how much better it is to be with God. But then he sees the conflicting desires of his heart which also seeks the earth. Taylor confesses to a desire contrary to God. Taylor is in love with the earth. The breath ascends upward from the convent. But Taylor would also be thinking of the warm bed which waits within, and of the good meal waiting in the morning.

Tennyson’s poem is the prayer of a “saint” who experiences no contrary desire. It is far more beautiful than Taylor’s conflicted mess. Tennyson’s saint would never call herself, “More blockish than a block.” She is a saint, after all. 

But that I thinks makes Taylor’s poem more honest. Tennyson’s saint has achieved a sort of earthly perfection. While Taylor’s penitent is horrified at his conflicted hearts which desires those things which are at odds with his own happiness. As John writes, “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.”

Tennyson’s saint admits to some lurking imperfect, but the poem does not express that terrified sense of sin which makes up Taylor’s meditations.

Thomas Hardy On a Fine Morning

19 Friday Jun 2020

Posted by in Thomas Hardy

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

How can one have comfort in an impersonal accidental universe? This was a great problem for Hardy. The world will simply calmly destroy us.

So he asks the question where can I find solace?

It can’t be from our actual experience:

Whence comes Solace?—Not from seeing
What is doing, suffering, being,
Not from noting Life’s conditions,
Nor from heeding Time’s monitions;
But in cleaving to the Dream,
And in gazing at the gleam
Whereby gray things golden seem.

There is just an accident a surprise which permits him to see grey appear to be gold. Even shadows are turning to sun.


Thus do I this heyday, holding
Shadows but as lights unfolding,
As no specious show this moment
With its irised embowment;
But as nothing other than
Part of a benignant plan;
Proof that earth was made for man.

That last line is the key: I am somehow meaningful. The earth is meant for human life.

This is the point where Hardy differs from Lewis. That surprise of joy led Hardy to have a moments accident – a dream. For Lewis the surprise of joy requires an explanation: it can’t be grounded in life experience which is suffering. Where then?

Misery requires no explanation of life is a bare cosmic accident: why should the ends meet? Darwin only requires existence not the good true or beautiful: those have no anchor in a world of chance. Beauty is purposeful, ordered.

Hardy can’t give a better explanation for his morning than “dream.”

Edward Taylor, Was there a palace of gold.

16 Tuesday Jun 2020

Posted by in Edward Taylor, Literature

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, ,

The poem begins with a fantastic, impossible scene of the throne of God. The subjective, if such a place actually existed, does not deny the existence of such a place, but rather underscores the desire:

The image only in generalities tracks any biblical scene. The references to gemstones here – and in Scripture – as well as impossibly beautiful, even absurd (a cushion of sunshine, what could that even as a concrete item?) hints to the reason why such things even exist as gemstones: They are concrete items to act as metaphors to the heavenly original. They give us an inkling as to the marvel. It is sort of a reverse Platonism. Rather than the earth being a copy of the heavenly; the earth is given as a metaphor for the heavenly.

Was there a palace of gold, all ston’d 

And pav’d with pearls, whose gates rich jaspers were

And throne a carbuncle whose king enthroned 

Sat on a cushion all of sunshine clear

Whose crown a bunch of sunbeams was: I should 

Prize such as in his favor shrine me would.

A carbuncle is a ruby. 

Thus, if there were such a place, I would give anything to be there. But how could I ever gain entrance? 

There are only two possibilities: To earn it or to receive as a gift. And Taylor, being a Christian, knows that salvation is of grace; not of personal merit:

Was there a palace of gold, all ston’d 

And pav’d with pearls, whose gates rich jaspers were

And throne a carbuncle whose king enthroned 

Sat on a cushion all of sunshine clear

Whose crown a bunch of sunbeams was: I should 

Prize such as in his favor shrine me would.

The Lord of perfect purity is the one who opens (opes) the entrance. Standing behind this scene is the concept of Psalm 24:

Psalm 24 (ESV) 

A Psalm of David. 

1    The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof, 

the world and those who dwell therein, 

2    for he has founded it upon the seas 

and established it upon the rivers. 

3    Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord? 

And who shall stand in his holy place? 

4    He who has clean hands and a pure heart, 

who does not lift up his soul to what is false 

and does not swear deceitfully. 

5    He will receive blessing from the Lord

and righteousness from the God of his salvation. 

6    Such is the generation of those who seek him,

who seek the face of the God of Jacob. Selah

7    Lift up your heads, O gates! 

And be lifted up, O ancient doors, 

that the King of glory may come in. 

8    Who is this King of glory? 

The Lord, strong and mighty, 

the Lord, mighty in battle! 

9    Lift up your heads, O gates! 

And lift them up, O ancient doors, 

that the King of glory may come in. 

10    Who is this King of glory? 

The Lord of hosts, 

he is the King of glory! Selah

Who may enter into this holy place? Only one who is perfect. Who is such a one? The King of Glory. And who is the King of Glory? Jesus Christ. The psalm is commonly taken as a reference to the Ascension of Christ into glory. 

The poet is thus being offered entrance into this impossible, heavenly scene. 

And important point of contrast which will be developed in this poem is the matter of words. Here note that the words of the king upon his throne are embellished with more radiance than sunshine. 

And so we come to the contrast which marks Taylor’s mediations: The Lord is all of glory, but I am not. 

This is a point which is under considered when academics discuss “Calvinists”. Election does not give rise to a thought of superiority but rather of confusion, How am I here? It is not merit, but impossibility. And the stark understanding of human nature is not a matter of despair, but rather of hope for remaking the world. 

Thy milk white hand, my glorious Lord, doth this:

It opes this gate and me conducts into 

This golden palace whose rich pavement is

Of precious pearls; and to this King also. 

Thus, thron’d and crown’d: whose words ‘bellish’d all

With brighter beams, than e’re the sun let fall.

There two marvelously awkward line breaks here. The first line “I” following a pause hurries on to the second line, like a tumble down the stairs. Also the break from the third to fourth line works perfectly: My affections fly On toys. The short half line of two syllables followed by a remaining line of 8, puts tremendous force upon the insufficient object of affection. I love toys! 

We so often love the good things God gives things, we love the gift more than the one who has given the gift. The poet would rather have the toys than the hand. 

And this is the great fault of human beings: our affections are curved back up on ourselves as Augustine notes. 

Melville: what like a bullet can undeceive

30 Saturday May 2020

Posted by in Literature

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

General Grant prevailed on second day of the battle of Shiloh (April 6 & 7 1862). The Union suffered 13,000 casualties. The Confederates lost 62,000 killed, wounded, captured or missing.

The population of the USA in 1860 was 31,443,322. The current population is more 10 times greater. Adjusted for population more men died those two days than have died in the current pandemic.

The word “foeman” is Melville’s word for enemy: a Foe-man.

The concept was captured by Marie Aurelius in his Meditations

“In death, Alexander of Macedon’s end differed no whit from his stable-boy’s. Either both were received into the same generative principle of the universe, or both alike were dispersed into atoms.”

Shiloh. A Requiem. (April, 1862.)

Skimming lightly, wheeling still,

The swallows fly low

Over the field in clouded days,

The forest-field of Shiloh—

Over the field where April rain

Solaced the parched ones stretched in pain

Through the pause of night

That followed the Sunday fight

Around the church of Shiloh—

The church so lone, the log-built one,

That echoed to many a parting groan

And natural prayer

Of dying foemen mingled there—

Foemen at morn, but friends at eve—

Fame or country least their care:

(What like a bullet can undeceive!)

But now they lie low,

While over them the swallows skim,

And all is hushed at Shiloh.

Edward Taylor, Would God I in that Golden City Were.2

09 Saturday May 2020

Posted by in Edward Taylor, Literature, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

 

May my rough voice and blunt tongue but spell

My tale (for tune they can’t) perhaps there may

Some angel catch an end of’t up and tell

In Heaven when he doth return that way

He’ll make thy palace, Lord, all over ring

With it in songs, thy saint and angels sing.

The poet cannot now come to heaven; for as Paul writes, flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God. And thus, he prays that perhaps his song spoken on earth might be heard by an angel and delivered to Heaven – and there it might be sung.

The idea that an angel might hear his song and deliver it to Heaven is a remarkable conceit, but that precise idea does not appear in the Bible. There are numerous instances of an angel speaking to a human being, but I can think of no instance in which an angel delivered an earthly message to heaven. It should be understood that the word “angel” means messenger.

The idea of speaking with a rough voice and a blunt tongue seems to be most related to two passages. First, when God calls Moses to speak to Pharaoh, Moses protests that he cannot deliver the message because he is a defective speaker:

Exodus 4:10 (AV)

 10 And Moses said unto the LORD, O my Lord, I am not eloquent, neither heretofore, nor since thou hast spoken unto thy servant: but I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue.

The related passage which also may have informed Taylor’s poem comes from the book of Romans where Paul explains that the Holy Spirit corrects our prayers:

Romans 8:26–27 (AV)

 26 Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. 27 And he that searcheth the hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit, because he maketh intercession for the saints according to the will of God.

In the next stanza, Taylor continues with the theme of his inability. He then addresses the rank absurdity which lies at the heart of Christianity – if God is so great, so perfect, so holy, how could God also love us:

 

I know not how to speak’t, it is so good;

Shall Mortal and Immortal marry? Nay,

Man marry God? God be a match for mud?

This King of Glory wed a worm? Mere clay?

This is the case. The wonder too in bliss.

Thy maker is thy husband, hear’st thou this?

That marriage was given not merely for human comfort but ultimately as the basis for understanding the relationship between God and human beings is intrinsic to the Christian understanding of redemption. A parable by Kierkegaard can help open this idea:

Once upon a time, there was a prince who was single and very eager to marry a lovely maiden for his future queen. Near his palace was a large city, and often he rode his carriage down to the city to take care of various chores for his father. One day, to reach a particular merchant, he had to go through a rather poor section. He happened to glance out of the window and right into the eyes of a beautiful maiden.

He had occasion on the next few days to return to the section of the city–drawn as he was by the eyes of the maiden. And more than that, he had the good fortune once or twice actually to meet this young girl. Soon he began to feel that he was in love with her. But now he had a problem. How should he proceed to procure her hand?

Of course, he could order her to the palace and there propose marriage. But even a prince would like to feel that the girl he marries wants to marry him. Or perhaps, somewhat more graciously, he could arrive at her door in his most resplendent uniform and, with a bow, ask her hand. But even a prince wants to marry for love.

Again, he could masquerade as a peasant and try to gain her interest. After he proposed, he could pull off his ‘mask.’ Still, the masquerade would be ‘phony.’ He really could not manage it.

Finally a real solution presented itself to his mind. He would give up his kingly role and move into her neighborhood. There he would take up work as, say, a carpenter. During his work in the day and during his time off in the evening, he would get acquainted with the people, begin to share their interests and concerns, begin to talk their language. And in due time, should fortune be with him, he would make her acquaintance in a natural way. And should she come to love him, as he had already come to love her, then he would ask for her hand.

Or a passage from Thomas Watson:

Christ is full of love, as he is of merit. What was it but love, that he should save us, and not the angels? Among the rarities of the loadstone, this is not the least, that leaving the gold and pearl, it should draw iron to it, which is a baser kind of metal; so, that Christ should leave the angels, those more noble spirits, the gold and pearl, and draw mankind to him, how doth this proclaim his love? Love was the wing on which he did fly into the virgin’s womb. 1. How transcendent is Christ’s love to the saints! The apostle calls it a love ‘that passeth knowledge,’ Eph. 3:19. It is such a love as God the Father bears to Christ; the same for quality, though not equality, John 15:9. ‘As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you:’ A believer’s heart is the garden where Christ hath planted this sweet flower of his love. It is the channel thro’ which the golden stream of his affection runs. 2. How distinguishing is Christ’s love, 1 Cor. 1:26. ‘Not many wise, not many noble are called.’ In the old law God passed by the lion and the eagle, and took the dove for sacrifice; that God should pass by so many of birth and parts, and that the lot of free grace should fall upon thee; O the depth of divine grace! How invincible is the love of Christ! ‘It is strong as death,’ Cant. 8:6. Death might take away his life, not this love; and as death, so neither sin could wholly quench that divine flame of love; the church had her infirmities, her sleepy fits, Cant. 5:2 but though blacked and sullied, yet still a dove; Christ could see the faith, and wink at the failing.

 

Thomas Watson, “A Christian on the Mount, or a Treatise Concerning Meditation,” in Discourses on Important and Interesting Subjects, Being the Select Works of the Rev. Thomas Watson, vol. 1 (Edinburgh; Glasgow: Blackie, Fullarton, & Co.; A. Fullarton & Co., 1829), 212–213.

The picture of the love between God and humanity being symbolized as marriage is the backdrop for the book of Hosea. In Isaiah, the particular image of maker and husband is given:

Isaiah 54:4–5 (AV)

4 Fear not; for thou shalt not be ashamed: neither be thou confounded; for thou shalt not be put to shame: for thou shalt forget the shame of thy youth, and shalt not remember the reproach of thy widowhood any more. 5 For thy Maker is thine husband; the LORD of hosts is his name; and thy Redeemer the Holy One of Israel; The God of the whole earth shall he be called.

And in the letter to Ephesians, Paul makes plain this point:

Ephesians 5:30–33 (AV)

30 For we are members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones. 31 For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh. 32 This is a great mystery: but I speak concerning Christ and the church. 33 Nevertheless let every one of you in particular so love his wife even as himself; and the wife see that she reverence her husband.

 

 

 

Edward Taylor, Would God I in that Golden City were.1 (Imposter syndrome)

08 Friday May 2020

Posted by in Edward Taylor, Literature, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

A meditation on Canticles 4:8

This poem begins with an unmistakable picture of the heavenly Jerusalem come down to earth. In the first stanza, the poet tells us that his soul would become “inflamed” if he were only to see that city filled with saints and angels.

To understand the function and bite of the poem, you must first know what Taylor alludes as he writes:

Revelation 21:9–27 (AV)

9 And there came unto me one of the seven angels which had the seven vials full of the seven last plagues, and talked with me, saying, Come hither, I will shew thee the bride, the Lamb’s wife. 10 And he carried me away in the spirit to a great and high mountain, and shewed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God, 11 Having the glory of God: and her light was like unto a stone most precious, even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal; 12 And had a wall great and high, and had twelve gates, and at the gates twelve angels, and names written thereon, which arethe names of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel: 13 On the east three gates; on the north three gates; on the south three gates; and on the west three gates. 14 And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and in them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. 15 And he that talked with me had a golden reed to measure the city, and the gates thereof, and the wall thereof. 16 And the city lieth foursquare, and the length is as large as the breadth: and he measured the city with the reed, twelve thousand furlongs. The length and the breadth and the height of it are equal. 17 And he measured the wall thereof, an hundred and forty and four cubits, according to the measure of a man, that is, of the angel. 18 And the building of the wall of it was of jasper: and the city was pure gold, like unto clear glass. 19 And the foundations of the wall of the city were garnished with all manner of precious stones. The first foundation was jasper; the second, sapphire; the third, a chalcedony; the fourth, an emerald; 20 The fifth, sardonyx; the sixth, sardius; the seventh, chrysolite; the eighth, beryl; the ninth, a topaz; the tenth, a chrysoprasus; the eleventh, a jacinth; the twelfth, an amethyst. 21 And the twelve gates were twelve pearls; every several gate was of one pearl: and the street of the city was pure gold, as it were transparent glass. 22 And I saw no temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it. 23 And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. 24 And the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it: and the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour into it. 25 And the gates of it shall not be shut at all by day: for there shall be no night there. 26 And they shall bring the glory and honour of the nations into it. 27 And there shall in no wise enter into it any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie: but they which are written in the Lamb’s book of life.

It is a city of remarkable beauty. And unlike the Garden of Eden, the serpent (something which would “defile”) the whole cannot enter:

 

Would God I in that Golden City were

With jaspers walld, all garnish, and made swash,

With precious stones, whose gates are pearls most clear,

And street pure gold, like to transparent glass.

That my dull soul might inflamed to see

How saints and angels ravish are in glee.

 

If I could only see that joy, how it would overcome my soul. He then begins to imagine what he could do if he were present in the City. “His story” would be his testimony of Christ’s redemption. The poet is unworthy of entrance – and yet his entrance his story would be the greatness not of himself, but of Christ who would love someone like him (as we shall see as the poem progresses):

Were I but there, and could but tell my story

‘Twould rub those walls of precious stones more bright;

And glaze those gates of pearl with brighter glory,

And pave the golden street with greater light.

‘Twould in fresh raptures saints and angels fling.

But I poor snake crawl here, scare mudwalld in.

The bite is in that last line. The poet is the defiled thing which has no right to entrance.

As an aside to the poem, there is the concept of being an imposter. When placed in a position where one is thought well of, where one is given position or power, the person who stops to self-reflect knows himself to be a fraud.

This poem points at a theological basis for that sensation: It is the heart of the Christian religion that human beings are meant to be with God. To be in the image of God is the highest possible conception of a human being. And simultaneously, we understand ourselves to be ruined creatures.

This remarkable inconsistency in our self-understanding creates a tremendous conflict in our self-understanding. As Lewis writes in Prince Caspian:

“You come of the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve,” said Aslan. “And that is both honour enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar, and shame enough to bow the shoulders of the greatest emperor on earth. Be content.”

If only I were to come to heaven, what praise I could bring. But if I were to come to heaven, I would be the serpent in Paradise.

William Carlos Williams, “The Farmer”

25 Wednesday Mar 2020

Posted by in Genesis, Literature, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , ,

29432557064_0f6e39ae2a_6k

(Photo by Ian Livesey)

The farmer deep in thought

is pacing through the rain

among his black fields, with

hands in pockets,

in his head

the harvest already planted.

A cold wind ruffles the water

among the browned weeds.

On all sides

the world rolls coldly away:

black orchards

darkened by the March clouds-

leaving room for thought.

Down past the brushwood

bristling by

the rainsluiced wagonroad

looms the artist figure of

the farmer – composing

antagonist

 

 

There are so many things wonderful about this poem. In no systematic form are some observations:

The portrait: The portrait is remarkably well-drawn. Notice the farmer is shown in silhouette: we see his posture, but we have no description of his personal features. We don’t know the color of his clothes, his eyes, his hair, et cetera.

But the world has colors: browned weeds, black orchards, darkened.

We see the world around the farmer in fine details the wind ruffles the water, there are March clouds, the road is “rainsluiced”. But there are other aspects which are missing from the description.

The parties: The poem ends with the word “antagonist”. The farmer is plotting his attack upon this deranged world by putting it in order and planting his harvest. The farmer is also an artist, who has a vision of beauty which he is going to wrought in the world.

The world is cold, forbidding and filled with death: even the orchards are “black”. The world is one of chaos, and the farmer is going to overcome the chaos and make a thing of use and order.

There is an interesting aside, “the world rolls by … leaving room for thought”. To the farmer, the chaos is an opportunity for order. He sees his harvest and nothing has yet been planted.

The combination of artist and antagonist may be an echo of Genesis 1. The world having come into existence is still without order, “The world was without form and void and darkness was upon the face of the deep.” But God overcome the disorder as both antagonist and artist. The farmer here does the same thing.

In fact, God plants a garden and places the first human beings in that garden. The farmer here is planning on planting a garden and obtaining a harvest himself.

I cannot say that Williams is explicitly thinking of Genesis here. There are no unambiguous allusions to the English text of Genesis. But the form is here.

So the question: is it proper to make a connection or consider the comparison where the author has not necessarily forced the connection between the two?  Yes.

Here are some reasons: First, a comparison between any two things has the potential for providing information about both. A comparison may lead one to realize a connection which was not previously apparent. Whenever come to some-thing or some-one, we are making comparisons with other similar things or ones we already know. We understand the thing we are looking at by comparing it to our previous knowledge.

Thus, making a purposeful comparison may help us to see something which was already there but not previously noticed.

Second, there are certain forms of thought which seem to be inherent in human beings. The Golden Bough is an mountain of cultural comparisons of forms from many cultures and times. There are certain ideas which just seem to make sense to us people.

That store of common forms is even greater within a culture. The ideas of Genesis would likely be familiar to Williams merely by living in his world at that time. Biblical references would be commonplace. For example, in Tom Sawyer, Mark Twain makes a memorable joke based upon Tom’s lack of Biblical knowledge, but Twain’s counting on the reader knowing the facts immediately and without explanation.

There are myriad of details about the poem which deserves consider, such as three prepositional phrases built around “in” at the beginning of the poem: the farmer is in thought, his hands are in his pocket, his harvest is in his head.

Compare that to his pacing in his black fields – where he is thinking and the black orchards leave room for thought.

The structure of the poem is a marvel.

A final observation: Williams is an artist who is composing a portrait of the farmer. The farmer is an artist who is composing a portrait of a harvest.  Williams takes all of the unorganized, but very present details of the scene (there is a man walking on a blustery March day) and turns this into ordered art.

The Subalterns

11 Wednesday Mar 2020

Posted by in Literature, Thomas Hardy

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , ,

I

“Poor wanderer,” said the leaden sky,
“I fain would lighten thee,
But there be laws in force on high
Which say it must not be.”


II

– “I would not freeze thee, shorn one,” cried
The North, “knew I but how
To warm my breath, to slack my stride;
But I am ruled as thou.”


III

– “To-morrow I attack thee, wight,”
Said Sickness. “Yet I swear
I bear thy little ark no spite,
But am bid enter there.“


IV


V

– “Come hither, Son,” I heard Death say;
“I did not will a grave
Should end thy pilgrimage to-day,
But I, too, am a slave!”

VI

We smiled upon each other then,
And life to me wore less
That fell contour it wore ere when
They owned their passiveness.

Thomas Hardy

This poem is a compliment to Hap, the poem which sorrows for the meaninglessness of pain in a world without even a spiteful god.

Here there is a rule, but no meaning. Death and pain are built into the fabric of things; the come by compulsion.

He even seems to make a friend of pain and death, “We smiled on each other then”. What a curious line. I believe that line makes the poem neither cynical nor cute. There is something Stoic about a smile upon death (because death cannot help it). But unlike the Stoics I don’t know that Hardy held to any universal Reason.

What then is the rule or force from “on high”? The crushing nature of the world is unavoidable but not meaningful.

A matter which might make for a n interesting comparison in this point Hardy and the younger American H.P. Lovecraft saw a terror in the world which sprang from something ancient.

One made the terror more superhuman and pre-human in source. The other lodged pain in bones of civilization.

But neither could make sense of the horror of this world. Yet, they could sketch its contour with rare skill.

The Right Way to Shake Off a Viper.6 How We May Profit by Another’s Slander

25 Tuesday Feb 2020

Posted by in Cotton Mather, Plutarch, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , ,

For I may not put you in mind that by being brought thus to flee the Divine Righteousness, you come to a most experimental sight of the Divine Faithfulness in what has befallen you.

One that had been very defamed could say. Gen. 50.20 God meant it unto good.[1] If you get so much good by your defamations as to discern the righteousness of God in them and obtain, what is ill in you to be forgiven and amended, it is plain that God has meant it for good. You may go on with praises and wonders and say, Lord, In faithfulness thou has afflicted me.[2]

It will most certainly be so, if you now set yourselves to improve in piety by means of defamations which are the by the impious hurled at you. O Man of God, you may be awakened unto the doing of much good by being evil spoken of. We say very truly, Malice is a good informer tho’ it be a bad judge.[3] You may by malicious defamations be informed of those points in your conduct which may need a better guard upon them. You may by being reproached be advised of those things which out to be reformed.[4]

It contributed mightily to the advancement of temperance in the blessed Monica that one reproachfully called her a “wine-bibber”.[5] It would be wisely done of you under defamations to search and try your ways. Particularly whether, tho’ what you enemies have said of you be false, yet the eyes of Holy God have not seen in you some faults akin to that which has been charged upon you. If find it so, Oh! Mourn for it and turn to God.

This is the language of heaven, in the bad language of the evil tongue in the fire spit at you by a tongue set on fire by hell.[6] At least you may find this, that you should grow more eminent in those graces and in those duties which are most contrary to the charges of your enemies upon you. They, ‘tis true, abuse you and yet at the same time they exhort you, they excite you.

God by them calls upon you: My child, you are not yet come to a due eminency in those good things which are just contrary, most contrary to the ill things that are spoke of you. Oh! Be quickened unto an eminency in all goodness by the evil spoken of you.

A great man of Macedonia professed himself much obliged unto the chief men of Athens that by their abuses they taught him how to speak and how to live better than he should have done without such monitors.

Perhaps you may have enemies who being sensible that you have some friends who think well of you are so uneasy at it and so resolved upon rendering you unserviceable, that they will make venomous insinuations of your being a hypocrite; that your all your profession, all your appearance, all the flame of your zeal to do good is but hypocrisy. A wondrous venom! Yet you have heard of the patience of Job.[7] I am verily persuaded the end of the Lord [the purpose of the Lord} is to awaken you to a more thorough trial of your own sincerity; and unto a more hearty doing of those things which will be infallible demonstrations of your own sincerity.

I have read or heard of one who never arrived unto the joyful assurance of his own uprightness until an abusive neighbor had called him a hypocrite. The faithfulness of the Lord our Healer makes the sickly doses of doses of defamation (tho’ they may seem sometimes unto us pretty churlish ones and a little strong of the metal[8]) operate thus towards the healing of our distempers. Hereby our iniquity is pursed and all the fruit is to take away our sins. The tongue that is a sharp sword serves only as in the well-known story to open up and relieve an ulcer of dangerous corruption within us.

Workers of iniquity[9] may for a while prevail against you; must injustice and injury may be done [to] you in many defamations uttered by workers of iniquity. But if unrighteous men prevail in their unrighteous works and words against you ’tis that your transgressions may be more purged away. See this, and say, O Lord, Great is thy Faithfulness!

Footnotes:

[1] The quotation comes from the words of Joseph, who had been kidnapped by his brother and then sold as a slave. Joseph ended up in Egypt, where through a series of remarkable circumstances, became the second-in-command overseeing famine relief. In position, Joseph not only saved the Egyptian people from starvation, but he ended up rescuing his own family. After Joseph reveals himself to his family, he brings them to live with him. Following the death of their father, his brothers fear that Joseph will take revenge upon them:

Genesis 50:15–20 (ESV)

 15 When Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead, they said, “It may be that Joseph will hate us and pay us back for all the evil that we did to him.” 16 So they sent a message to Joseph, saying, “Your father gave this command before he died: 17 ‘Say to Joseph, “Please forgive the transgression of your brothers and their sin, because they did evil to you.” ’ And now, please forgive the transgression of the servants of the God of your father.” Joseph wept when they spoke to him. 18 His brothers also came and fell down before him and said, “Behold, we are your servants.” 19 But Joseph said to them, “Do not fear, for am I in the place of God? 20 As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.

[2] Psalm 119:75 (AV)

75 I know, O LORD, that thy judgments are right,

and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me.

[3]  Malice notices all of the faults in an enemy. As Plutarch explains of the enemy:

As much as possibly he can, he enquires what we have done, and labors to dive into the most hidden counsels of our minds. Nay, our friends do often escape our notice, either when they die or are sick, because we are careless and neglect them; but we are apt to examine and pry curiously almost into the very dreams of our enemies.

Now our enemy (to gratify his ill-will towards us) doth acquaint himself with the infirmities both of our bodies and mind, with the debts we have contracted, and with all the differences that arise in our families, all which he knows as well, if not better, than ourselves. He sticks fast to our faults, and chiefly makes his invidious remarks upon them.

….So our enemies catch at our failings, and then they spread them abroad by uncharitable and ill-natured reports.

Plutarch, Plutarch’s Morals., ed. Goodwin, vol. 1, “How a man may receive profit and reward from his enemies” (Medford, MA: Little, Brown, and Company, 1874), 283–284. However, the enemy’s watchfulness does not prove the enemies wisdom. In fact the enemy is like to completely misjudge all things for the worse.

[4]

Hence we are taught this useful lesson for the direction and management of our conversations in the world, that we be circumspect and wary in every thing we speak or do, as if our enemy always stood at our elbow and overlooked every action. Hence we learn to lead blameless and inoffensive lives. This will beget in us vehement desires and earnest endeavors of restraining disorderly passions. This will fill our minds with good thoughts and meditations, and with strong resolutions to proceed in a virtuous and harmless course of life.

Plutarch, Plutarch’s Morals., ed. Goodwin, vol. 1 (Medford, MA: Little, Brown, and Company, 1874), 284.

[5] Monica was Augustine’s mother.

[6] James 3:6 (AV)

6 And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity: so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature; and it is set on fire of hell.

[7] James 5:11 (AV)

11 Behold, we count them happy which endure. Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy.

[8] Too strong for our taste.

[9] Job 31:3 (AV)

Is not destruction to the wicked? and a strange punishment to the workers of iniquity?