La Bas by J.K Husymans

This Gothic-Decadent thriller is by the same author of Against Nature, and is no less shocking. It tells the story of Durtal, a writer loosely based on Husymans himself, who is writing a biography of the medieval knight, Gilles de Rais. Durtal is obsessed with the occult and Satanism. The novel itself was published around about the same time as The Picture of Dorian Gray, but this novel is a thousand times more graphic than Wilde's depiction of decadence. Durtal befriends a bell-ringer in a local bell tower and there he learns more of the occult. The novel is essentially an essay on Satanism and religious piety, culminating in a black mass in which Durtal encounters Canon Docre, a perverse Satanist involved with Madame Charteouve, Durtal's lover. This novel is not for the squeamish as it graphically describes the murders of boys and girls by the hand of Gilles de Rais, a knight who once protected Joan of Arc but later turned to  Satanism. Husymans shocking display of graphic narrative will deter the faint-hearted reader, but his unflinching attention to detail and esoteric references will enthrall those who are willing to take a pinch of salt and read this work for it's literary value.
La Bas is a novel that is not for everyone, if you are not thrown off by the debate of naturalism at the beginning you will probably become bored by Carhaix's lengthy harangue on bell-ringing. But once Durtal begins describing the terrible crimes of Gilles de Rais the reader cannot help but be drawn in even if only out of curiosity. If you are looking for a new author to shock and educate you, I suggest you read Husymans and then judge contemporary thriller novels.

Against Nature by J.K Husymans

This novel is a key Decadent text, aiming to dispel the effects of idealistic Naturalism of the 1800s and instead reveal the perverse pleasures and practices of the 19th century dandy. It is worth mentioning that this text inspired Oscar Wilde to write The Picture of Dorian Gray, a novel exploring the depths of sin and social reactions. Against Nature tells the story of Des Essientes, an aristocratic French gentleman who has become wearied by recent social changes and as a result decides to live in solitude in a secluded area. The reader is instantly reminded of Henry Thoreau's Walden, an autobiographical account of life in the woods away from the harshness of urban environs. But no, Husymans is wholly cynical in his diagnosis of society, his irreverence towards monarch and government is characteristic of the Decadent movement.
It should be noted here that the novel itself has only one major character, Des Essientes. The only other character are his staff and others referenced throughout. This unique format allows Husymans to deliver a well thought out character study as well as avoiding distracting the reader from these ideas by any kind of narrative plot. The neurotic nature of Des Esseintes may seem frustrating to the modern reader as he plunges into a lengthy discourse on the 'gamy flavours' of classical literature, but I assert that it is not necessary to understand every literary allusion to understand this text. Moreover, Des Essientes represents a part of 19th century society that was overlooked by common man, for being too perverse and obscure. There is a hint of pederasty where Des Essientes is attracted to a young boy, but the overall sexual theme of this novel is that of ennui and disillusionment. Des Essientes is a man with infinite needs but finite pleasures, his sickness towards the end of the novel is the result of his neurosis and isolation, this is resolved by his reluctant move back to the city. Whereas other Naturalist writers such as Zola would assert that peace is to be found amongst nature, Husymans shows how isolation in nature only results in the fulfilling of perverse wants and obsessive states. This short novel is painfully relevant to our modern age of impulse and luxury, that we want it all now, even if that means compromising our ethics.

The Rape of the Lock by Alexander Pope

The satirist and poet, Alexander Pope wrote the heroi-comical poem, The Rape of the Lock circa. 1712. Just like the satires of  fellow writer Jonathan Swift (Gullivers Travels, Battle of the Books), this poem aims at mocking the grandiloquent narratives of the age. Pope uses a highly literary vocabulary blending archaic language with the language of the period. The poem is divided into five cantos, the traditional format for narrative poems. The stylistic conventions of The Rape of the Lock aside, Pope wishes to satirize the narrative form, this is achieved by the taking of a minor incident and transforming it into a matter for the gods. The poem tells the story of Belinda, a notable belle who is the subject of a man's affection, being totally entranced by her, he cuts off a lock of her hair without her permission ( hence the title, 'The Rape of the Lock). The satire lies in this banal and/or bawdy incident being told in such epic verse. Pope's dramatised tone uses exclamation and lamentation to further the satire, the train of minute sylphs that watch over Belinda warn her to 'beware of man!' (Canto 1, Line. 114).
However, Pope also highlights the fragility of beauty, Belinda losing a lock of her hair affects her deeply;

The meeting points the sacred hair dissever

From the fair head for ever, and for ever!' (Canto 4, line 57-8)

Pope was one of the best satirists of his time and there is lasting influence in his works that is relevant now. The Rape of the Lock represents melodrama and perhaps even vanity that so trivial events can be interpreted as a divine battle. Pope's obscure and classical references may deter some modern readers but it is not necessary to translate every obscurity to still understand the humourous satire of this narrative poem.

The Golden Ass by Apuleius

The Transformations of Lucius Apuleius, which was later renamed The Golden Ass (asinus aureus) by Saint Augustine, describes the protagonist Lucius' transformation from human to donkey form. The novel is full of earthly humour, comparable to the bawdy lyric of Chaucer. I have read the Robert Graves translation of this text and it is written in such down-to-earth prose that the modern reader will undoubtedly pick up on the farcical as well as the allegorical elements of the text.
The crux of the novel is: Apuleius falls in love with a slave girl after staying at a distinguished nobleman's house. He becomes acquainted with her and learns that the nobleman's wife is a witch capable of changing form. Lucius is interested in this magic and tries to change himself into a bird, but instead he mistakenly becomes an ass. A series of far-fetched events then occur, similar to that of Voltaire's Candide. Lucius is sold numerous times as a draught animal, he carries loot for thieves and crops for farmers. Each time he narrowly avoids death from beating or execution. An important part of this novel is Lucius' observations, as an animal he cannot intervene with human affairs but instead he listens and plans his escape from captivity.
It is revealed that the spell that keeps Lucius in the form of a donkey can only be broken by the ingestion of rose petals. Though he tries many times to find these flowers he is pulled away by his masters, this display of futility is deeply engaging and the reader develops sympathy for poor Lucius. The spell is finally broken after Lucius manages to escape his final master. He then beseeches the Egyptian goddess Isis. The goddess appears and breaks the spell, this is the end of the novel.
The Golden Ass is an example of Ovidian transformation, a theme that has captivated literature for centuries. Apuleius' comic tale is both witty and insightful, creating an interesting picture of the ancient slave trade as well as the value of morals and compassion.

The Aeneid by Virgil

This, the greatest Latin epic, was written by Virgil over the course of many years. The influence of The Aeneid on western literature cannot be overstated, it is a story of war, exile and love. I could plunge into a lengthy essay about the historical context of the poem but Virgil's masterful narrative is such that the story explains itself.
I shall provide a basic outline of the plot; Aeneas, a citizen of Troy escapes from the invasion of the city by Greeks (c.f: The Trojan War). He embarks on a seven year journey to Carthage where he meets Queen Dido. The pair fall in love but as Aeneas is summoned by the gods to found a new city for the exiled Trojans, he must leave her behind. This is the tragic element of The Aeneid, Dido's suicide due to unrequited love and Aeneas' guilt and fear of his own fate, this is later mirrored by the death of Pallas and the cost of war, as discussed in Book 12. The poem continues with Aeneas visit to the underworld under the guidance of the Sibyl of Cumae, as well as further battles and encounters with Greek and other civilizations.
It is important to note here that Virgil wrote The Aeneid as a response to Homer's Odyssey. There are many parallels between the two texts and there is an abundant supply of commentary and criticism that aims to highlight this, however, The Aeneid does not require extensive knowledge of Greek and Latin texts, certainly the Penguin classics edition has a large glossary of Latin terms. The opening line 'I sing of arms and the man' is true of the text, Virgil gives reportage of Aeneas' adventures but maintains an exquisite poetic voice that is unwavering in its portrayal of the beauty of love and the horror of war.
The Aeneid is essential reading for those interested in the epic poem as, arguably, it is the source of all other epic poems, the very archetype of later works such as Dante and Longfellow. By reading The Aeneid, one can grasp at a vision of war that is both enthralling and reflective.

The Metamorphoses by Ovid

This collection of stories told in hexametric epic verse is perhaps the defining work of all other tales of transformation and divine supernatural influence. Ovid was born circa 43 B.C in a small village near Rome, this was about the same period as the murder of Julius Caesar and the subsequent fall of Rome. The Metamorphoses are a re-telling of Greek and Roman myths and legends, Ovid describes humans being changed into animals as punishment for their sins or hubris against the gods. It is not necessary for the modern reader to have encyclopedic knowledge of ancient Rome to get a good understanding of what this work is about. Many of the books (or chapters) of the Metamorphoses are comparable to fables in which characters receive their just deserts as consequence for their actions.
One of my favourite stories is that of Narcissus and Echo (book III). A vain sixteen year old boy is obsessed with his looks, hence the term narcissism, he chases a young nymph called Echo, who he finds particularly attractive. She calls to him and her voice echoes but he cannot find her, he rests by a pool. One of Narcissus' jilted lovers than prays to Nemesis (goddess of revenge) that: 'may he himself love as I have loved him, without obtaining his beloved' (lines 521-22, book III). This prayer is answered, Narcissus stares at his reflection in the pond and falls in love with himself while Echo departs. Out of grief, he dies and his body is transformed into a flower which is, of course, the Narcissus daffodil.
The text is filled with curious stories like these which impart morals and common ideas which will be familiar to the modern reader. Not only this, but Ovid's fluid style and unerring narrative make for great reading, the hexameter verse is the perfect fit for the smooth rhythm and the language is both common and understandable yet filled with brilliant metaphor and colourful imagery.
Ovid has inspired a myriad writers of all genres, from Dante's epic verse to the magical realism of Salman Rushdie and of course James Joyce's epic Ulysses. The relevancy of the Metamorphoses cannot be understated, read this work if you ever wish to write a poem about transformation or magic.

The Ballad of Reading Gaol by Oscar Wilde

The masterful wit of Oscar Wilde whose aphoristic quotes still remain popular today, is alive and well in this long poem, The Ballad of Reading Gaol. Here, Wilde recounts the horrors of the penal system (something which he had first hand experience from after being imprisoned for homosexual crimes). The poem tells the story of a soldier, Charles Woodridge, who was hanged for killing his wife. Wilde states that ' each man kills the thing he loves', rather than a display of sympathy for criminals, Wilde portrays a pessimistic view of the futility of chasing life's pleasures. The bitter irony of the poem and the resignation of the narrator; 'we did not care: we knew where we were' is somewhat tragic, considering Wilde's fall from society. However, Wilde maintains a strong narrative voice in this poem, describing the thoughts of the prisoners as well as the fate of the condemned man. The description of the 'weeping prison wall' is comparable to the 'thick-ribbed walls' described in Wordsworth's lyrical ballad, The Convict. Similarly, Jacques Rosseau's famous quote, that 'man is everywhere borne in chains' is highly relevant here, the oppression of the prisoners of Reading Gaol is such that there 'souls are in pain'. The condemned man is a figure of utter despair, there is no hope for redemption, the other prisoners are left ' to watch him as he tries to pray'. The comical humour of Wilde's previous work seems trivial to the sobering irony of this poem.
The internal rhymes and differing rhythmic patterns of this poem give a bouncy although somewhat disjointed feel. Each six line stanza feels like another moment waiting in prison, whilst the upbeat rhyme scheme lends a ballad-like feel. Although the poem reads like an upbeat song, the subject matter is grim and rife with despair, this was obviously Wilde's intent to create a bittersweet irony that would both shock the reader with its subject matter and satiate their poetic appetite.

A sample poem from my new collection

I am currently working on a new collection of poems. They will be of a suitably darker nature than my last collection (of which I am currently considering uploading, maybe to this blog or elsewhere), I intend to focus on the Emotional rather than the Cerebral. Thematically, the poems express darkness, isolation and fear. Although I often view these themes as portentous and sentimental, I intend to convey them in an oblique manner so as to avoid being overtly obvious in terms of subject matter. I am also toying with the idea of dividing the collection into two books, one intimate reflections, the other more objective observations.
Nevertheless, I offer here a sample verse from an, as yet, untitled poem:

Now is the season I feel accustomed

To the love I cultivated in winter.

I was bereft of all hope

As I wandered into the autumnal copse

Like the leaves, my heart withered.

Dejected and denied the harvest.

In the coldness, I warmed my spirit

With one vain thought of hope

Now I feel a heat emanating,

Though I know no response to give,

Only to burn until nothing remains

But ashes to been blown in new directions.

Ulysses, Episode VIV: Scylla and Charybdis

In this chapter, set in the National Library at 2pm, we see Stephen deliver his interpretations of Shakespearean works. Throughout Ulysses, there are references to many of Shakespeare's plays, perhaps most importantly among is Hamlet. The theme of ghosts that is prevalent in Ulysses is also a major part of Hamlet, that being the haunting of the protagonist by the ghost of his father. A myriad parodies may be drawn between the two works, most strikingly is Bloom's father who having committed suicide haunts Leopold's memory, particularly in the Hades episode. Similarly, the digressive nature of Bloom and Daedalus is comparable to the procrastination of Hamlet in exacting his revenge for the murder of his father.
Nevertheless, it is not necessary for the reader to know Shakespeare's play chapter and verse to get a good understanding of the discussion that takes place in this chapter. Many of the views expressed by Stephen and
John Eglington (the real-life librarian of the National library) are based on dubious pseudo-biographical works of Shakespeare's life (in truth, little is known about his personal life). Joyce satirizes this by making absurd claims such as 'whether Hamlet is Shakespeare or James I' (p.177). Also though, there are points raised that relate to the novel as a whole, Stephen asks: 'What is a ghost?' (p.180).
The episode references other plays such as King Lear, Othello, the Tempest and the Comedy of Errors as well as many others. Although this chapter may seem an unnecessary digression from the novel it is in fact a closer analysis of the story and its characters. Joyce does not simply compare Ulysses to a series of Shakespeare plays but instead integrates Shakespeare into the minds of the characters, the result of this is a cerebral critiquing of the plays. The psychological and spiritual elements of the plays are expressed through narrative streams of thought: hesouls, shesouls, shoals of souls. Engulfed with wailing creecries' (p.184).
Stephen gives a summarising remark about Shakespearean tragedy: 'Where there is a reconciliation there must have been a sundering' (p.185). This is a fitting epitaph both for Shakespeare and Ulysses, though Joyce's fractured narratives inhibit any solid reconciliation, there is a progressive structure to the novel that links episode to episode.

Ulysses: Episode VIII: Lestrygonians

It's 1pm and Leopold Bloom is hungry. He walks around the environs of Trinity College, close to the river Liffey. The whole chapter is centred around the theme of food and hunger. The opening line describes: 'Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch' (p.144) and the peristalsis of Bloom's hungry gut is in rhythm with his brisk walking pace.
As he walks along, Bloom thinks of poetry and 'how poets write' (p.146). He conjures a couplet of verse relating to his hunger: 'the hungry famished gull /Flaps o'er the waters dull' (p.145). Bloom meets Mrs Breen and tells her about Dignam's funeral although, his thoughts are directed at the 'hot mockturtle vapours and steam of newbaked jampuffs rolypoly poured out of Harrisons' (p.150). The sensuous imagery that abounds this chapter is typical of Bloom's character.
Also within this chapter is a phrase that proves relevant to the novel as a whole. As Bloom walks by Trinity College, he contemplates the idea of coincidence whilst thinking of Parnell's brother and the Irish writer, A.E. Bloom reaches the conclusion that: 'Coming events cast their shadows before' (p.158). This notion of foreshadowing is crucial to the novel, Joyce repeats ideas and themes throughout Ulysses and thus casts a figurative shadow on the plot as it unfolds.
The chapter concludes with Bloom espying Blazes Boylan (of whom Bloom suspects is having an affair with his wife) walking towards him. Out of shame and disgust, Bloom diverts into the National Museum thinking: 'didn't see me perhaps' (p.175), before concluding; 'Safe!' (p.175).

Ulysses, Episode VII: Aeolus

This chapter, named after the Greek god of the winds, is about the hot air found within the world of journalism. The location is the offices of the Freeman's Journal at 48 Prince Street, the time is 12 noon. Structurally this chapter is composed of a series of articles each with their own (often irrelevant) headline. There is conversation between Daedalus, Bloom and other characters although the narrative is fractured by the division of articles. This is the first chapter of the novel where Joyce uses such bold structural devices. There is a conflict between narrator and the arrangements of the editor, the flow of dialogue is interrupted by strange headlines such as: 'the crozier and the pen' (p.114) and 'short but to the point' (p.120), these headlines are vaguely and comically related to the conversation between the characters, but it is ultimately Joyce's humourous portrayal of the ambiguity of the press. Joyce mimics the oratory of both Irish and Greek rhetoricians, but also makes gratuitous reference to Bloom's Jewish descent. The article titled: 'And it was the feast of the Passover' (p.118) is filled with Jewish terminology such as 'Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu' (Hebrew: Hear, oh Israel, the Lord our God'). Ulysses itself contains a myriad religious references, which I could never hope to cover here, but it is important to note that Joyce places great emphasis on how religion affects the individual. The Word, in the Biblical sense (the Word of God), is rendered to the same level as the printed words of news articles.Joyce's language fluctuates between grand rhetoric to inane banter to obscure nonsense; 'diminished digits prove too titillating for frisky frumps' (p.143). But it is this playful exploration of Ulysses that gives such a powerful insight into the creative mind. Aeolus is Joyce's attempt at transcribing the creative process of journalism, and the thoughts of those involved.

Ulysses, Episode VI: Hades

Following on from Bloom's stream of thought in Lotus Eaters, we follow him as he attends the funeral procession of Paddy Dignam. Hades, aptly named through its recurrent themes of death and ghosts; which Joyce referred to as 'incubism', focuses on Bloom's reaction to death. Paradoxically, attention is drawn to how the living cope with bereavement as Bloom states: 'more sensible to spend the money on some charity for the living'.
 As he rides along in the carriage with Martin Cunningham, Stephen Daedalus and friends, Bloom is thinking about 'if little Rudy had lived' (p.86) relating to his son who passed away at an early age. The conversation wavers from social events such as Marion Bloom's upcoming concert with Blazes Boylan to the uncomfortable subject of suicide where Bloom is haunted by the image of his deceased father. M.r Power, sitting in the carriage says of suicide: 'the greatest disgrace to have in the family' (p.93). To which: 'M.r Bloom, about to speak, closed his lips again' (p.93). Bloom is reminded of the untimely death of his father as he recalls the coroner's verdict: 'overdose. Death by misadventure. The letter. For my son Leopold.' (p.93). Bloom's emotion is summed up by the phrase: 'No more pain. Wake no more. Nobody owns.' (p.93). It is this forced acceptance of the inevitable that leads Bloom to question the rituals of death with a cynical view. As they arrive at the service, Bloom says: 'makes them feel more important to be prayed over in Latin' and that the priest 'said he (Dignam) was going to paradise or is in paradise. Says that over everybody. Tiresome kind of job. (p100). Bloom's derision for rituals for the dead is similar to Daedalus' rejection of religious doctrine in Portrait of the Artist, although here in Ulysses, Joyce uses the experience of an adult narrative to give a more learned argument against religion rather than Daedalus' youthful rebellion in Portrait. Still, Bloom thinks like Daedalus, he is unfazed by religious superstition yet is haunted by his own memory.
Hades sees the first encounter of the two protagonists, Bloom and Daedalus and although they only make small talk in the carriage, much is revealed about the similarities and differences between their characters. It has already been established that Daedalus is presented through cerebral narrative whilst Bloom, the corporeal but that they both share the nightmare of history and its ghosts is significant to the novel as a whole.
The Hades episode is not just about death, it is about how death affects the living.

Ulysses: Episode V: Lotus Eaters

Continuing on from the previous episode, we follow Leopold Bloom around Westland Row station. The time is 10am and he is on his way to the post office to collect a letter. He notices in a shop window, tea label that describe faraway countries. Bloom imagines what it must be like to live in 'the garden of the world' (p.69). When he arrives at the post office he finds a letter from his erotic penpal, Martha Clifford addressed to his pseudonym, Henry Flower. As he leaves the post office, he attempts to read the letter when he is approached by a friend called McCoy. They talk about Paddy Dignam's funeral which is due to take place at 11am, McCoy states that he will not be able to attend. Bloom notices a woman's leg in the background and thinks of his wife's bad singing abilities.
After being lost in thought about his father's death, Bloom decides to read the letter. He then arrives at the church for Dignam's funeral. It is here where the chapter's most profound imagery occurs, Bloom sees Latin church services as a 'stupefying' thing, similar to the narcotic effect of the lotus that features in Homer's Odyssey. Bloom continues with his blasphemous metaphor, likening the consumption of bread and wine that symbolize Christ's body and blood to an act of cannibalism: 'Rum idea: eating bits of a corpse why the cannibals cotton on to it.' (p.77). This puts into perspective both the humour and ideology of Leopold Bloom, throughout the novel he is continually questioning ritual and metaphor as well as reducing the divine to the banal.
After the service, Bloom visits a chemist to buy a lotion for Molly. As he browses the store he thinks of medicines and disease and concludes 'poisons the only cures' (p.81). Bloom picks up a bar of lemon soap offering to return later to pay for the lotion as well. Bloom then meets Bantam Lyons and inadvertently offers him a tip for a horse race. He then walks towards a public baths and imagines his naked body floating in the water like a flower.

Ulysses: Episode IV: Calypso

This chapter sees the introduction of the novel's second protagonist, Leopold Bloom. At the Bloom's residence, Number 7 Eccles Street, Leopold is having breakfast at 8am. The opening line of the chapter describes how Bloom 'ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls.' (p.53), this is typical imagery of Joyce's corporeal characterisation as opposed to the mental portrayal of Stephen Daedalus.
Calypso, (the name; like all other chapter titles is taken from Homer's Odyssey) bears a subtle resemblance to the opening episode, Telemachus. The explanatory notes of the Oxford Edition of Ulysses state: 'Bloom is the height of a tower to the cat which has eyes like green gems and laps milk brought by Hanlon's milkman' (p.793). This pertains to the Martello tower, the green gems and the milk woman which all feature in Telemachus. Joyce expertly introduces Leopold Bloom by playing on the reader's concept of familiarity.
As Bloom feeds his cat, questioning whether it can understand him, he eats breakfast. He then goes to see his wife, Marion Bloom, who is in bed. She has received a letter from Blazes Boylan, a music hall arranger who has requested her to sing at an upcoming concert. Leopold reads a letter from his daughter, Milly. Then, whilst explaining to his wife the origins of the word 'metempsychosis', Bloom realizes the kidney he put on the  
stove is starting to burn. He runs into the kitchen and eats the burnt kidney.
Towards the end of the chapter, Bloom thinks about the upcoming funeral of his late friend, Paddy Dignam and in a crude sense of irony he goes to the outhouse to defecate. The chapter is composed of three elements; the ingestion of food, the digestion of news and letters and the excretion of thought, the death of Paddy Dignam and in the vulgar sense, waste. However, there is also a vital insight into the relationship of the Blooms, particularly in the revelation that they 'dislike dressing together' (p.67) this will prove significant as the story develops.

Ulysses, Episode III: Proteus

In this chapter, Stephen walks along Sandymount Strand, a beach along Dublin Bay. The opening word 'ineluctable' meaning inescapable relates to the unavoidable thoughts that fill Stephen's mind throughout this chapter. He is a spectator as he walks across the beach, then he sits and attempts to write a poem:

'Won't you come to Sandymount,

Madeleine the mare?' (p.37).

The narrative in this chapter is weaved with Stephen's monologues and so at times it is confusing who is speaking. However, the attention is on Stephen as he urinates and picks his nose, that is until it is what he sees becomes important. 'The two midwives, the sea, the sand, boulders, a man and a woman cockle-picking, a dead dog, a live dog, his shadow, Cock Lake, no black clouds and a ship' (p.782, explanatory notes), these are all the things Stephen notices whilst on the beach. He then plunges into thoughts of Denmark, Dublin and London as well as philosophical and religious musings. The erratic placing of these thoughts between narrative is characteristic of Joyce and recurs frequently throughout Ulysses. Stephen thinks of a woman he saw outside a bookshop and his friend Kevin Egan, who will appear later. Proteus, like Nestor, features the inescapable nightmare of history, but here Stephen is out of the classroom and distracted by the world around him. The chapter concludes with the sighting of 'a silently moving, a silent ship.' (p.50).

Ulysses Episode II: Nestor

Continuing on from the previous episode's theme of identity, here Stephen Daedalus is teaching a history class at a boy's school in Dalkey, one mile from the Martello tower. The chapter opens with a Joycean dialogue between teacher and pupil accompanied by a transient narrative. Along with characteristic wordplay such as 'Pyrrhus' being Latin for 'pier', there is an underlying theme of cultural identity. The pupils do not know many of the answers to Stephen's questions about ancient history yet they are 'welloff people' (p.24.) This is emphasised by Stephen's monologue:

'For them history was a tale like any other too often heard, their land a pawnshop.' (p.25.)

Stephen is then asked to tell a ghost story. A pupil begins reading from a book, Stephen's thoughts are transcribed, then he asks the class a riddle and they are sent to play.hockey. After they return to class, Stephen helps one boy with a maths problem. The boy is then called by another teacher, M.r Deasy.

Stephen is then paid for his teaching by M.r Deasy and they discuss political and ethical matters, wherein Stephen declares: 'I fear those big words which make us so unhappy.' (p.31). Also during this discussion, Stephen utters the famous line: 'history is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.' (p.34) This witty one-liner lays down the fundamental issue of the novel. Just like in a Portrait of the Artist, Stephen is trying to come to terms with his identity, although here in Ulysses he is older and able to look back on history. The chapter concludes with M.r Deasy making a crude joke about Ireland's lack of anti-Semitism.

Ulysses by James Joyce-Episode I:Telemachus

I have finally decided to put together a chapter by chapter summary of one of my favourite books, Ulysses. Due to the myriad books of criticism of Joyce's work and the overwhelming nature of the text itself, I offer here only a condensed summary based on my interpretation and my reading of other critical texts. The copy of the text I quote from is The Oxford World's Classics Edition with notes by Jeri Johnson.

The novel opens with an omniscient narrator describing 'plump Buck Mulligan' as he prepares for a morning shave. The setting is a Martello Tower located in Sandycove, a few miles from Dublin. Mulligan's shaving ritual is likened to Catholic Mass with the Latin phrase 'Introibo ad altare Dei'. Then Stephen Daedalus, the same character from Joyce's previous novel A Portrait of the Artist, appears and is described as 'displeased and sleepy'. The pair then discuss the origins of Daedalus' surname, then they talk of another character, Haines who dreamt last night 'about shooting a black panther'. The dialogue here is a mixture of interior monologues and casual conversation, yet there is a metaphorical aspect behind it all. Buck announces 'a new colour for our Irish poets, snotgreen'. This perhaps hints at the increasing vulgarity of Irish poetry at the time. But there is also a greater issue in the tower, the death of Stephen's mother. Buck's aunt believes that Stephen could have saved her.
Whilst Buck is shaving he picks up a small mirror, Stephen notices a crack on it and announces 'it is as symbol of Irish art. The cracked lookinglass of the servant.' This is one of the most famous quotes from the text and pertains to the fractured existence of Ireland's servile class. Buck, however, sees it merely as a witty aphorism. However he then says on page 7: 'if you and I could only work together, we might do something for the island. Hellenise it.' This ties in with the Homeric element of the work, Joyce parodies the rich patriotism of the ancient Greeks.
The subject of the death of Stephen's mother is brought up again by Buck. Stephen then drifts into a stream of consciousness, lists of his mother's possessions and her mannerisms are described. He then visualises her ghost with the term 'ghoul, chewer of corpses'.
Buck intends to go to The Ship, a public house, where Stephen will reveal his theory of Shakespeare's Hamlet. Before this, Haines enters and sits at the table with Stephen and Buck. A milkwoman enters, she is likened to the mother of Ireland. Haines, though an Englishman, speaks better Irish than the natives and attempts to converse with the milkwoman but she thinks he is speaking French. After a brief conversation about Ireland, Buck says that he pays 'twelve quid' rent for the tower, Stephen hands him the key. Buck then sings a song called: The Ballad of Joking Jesus. The episode concludes with a conversation about two lovers, Lily and Seymour. Stephen arranges to meet Buck and Haines at The Ship at half-past twelve.

Paradise Regained by Milton

Following on from Paradise Lost, Milton describes Man's redemption through Jesus Christ. Paradise Regained is comprised of four books and is essentially a lengthy dialogue between Christ and Satan who intends to tempt Jesus away from God. 

This epic poem lacks the introductory arguments that accompany each book of Paradise Lost however the brevity of the work means the reader can follow the story without explanatory summation. Milton posits many theological questions in this work all of which are answered through the character of Christ and voices of Heaven. The notion of Paradise being regained stems from Jesus' claim that He will lead man from sin and excess and instead teach him to be wealthy of morals and love for God. There is a modern message here in this work, that man should be less concerned with building reputation and wealth and instead live a life of moderation and piety to secure a place in heaven. 

Milton's language in this poem maintains its heroic tone but is arguably more subdued as the action is centered around the dialogue of Jesus and Satan. Nevertheless, the poem remains a worthy sequel to Milton's magnum opus, the fulfilling conclusion in which Satan is cast back to Hell after failing to tempt Jesus, leaves the reader both satisfied in terms of narrative structure but also morally resolved. Paradise is regained by Jesus' refusal of temptation and although man is not permitted to re-enter, he may aspire through a life of virtue to a paradisaical after-life. 

Milton is one of the greatest poets of the western canon, on par with Dante and Shakespeare. By reading these tales of Paradise the reader may experience their own vision of utopia, such is the vividness of Milton's narrative.

Paradise Lost by John Milton

After reading Dante's epic trilogy, The Divine Comedy, I was intrigued to read what is perhaps the English equivalent of the Christian epic poem, Paradise Lost. The poem itself is arranged into twelve books and chronicles the creation and eventual expulsion of Adam and Eve from the garden of Eden. Milton's retelling of the book of Genesis is so captivating in its heroic narrative that the reader may liken it to the very Scriptures themselves.
Milton's archaic language is similar to that of Shakespeare, yet in Paradise Lost there are a myriad religious references which the modern reader may have to look up in the footnotes. Similarly to Dante, Milton is keen to illustrate how Christian justice is meted out. However, Milton's impersonal narrative does not question religious doctrine in the same way that Dante as narrator of The Divine Comedy was oft to do, instead Milton uses Adam as an interlocutor to the Archangel to question whether man has ultimate responsibility over his actions. The crux of the poem revolves around the concept of 'felix culpa' or 'happy fault', meaning that Eve and Adam's tasting of the forbidden fruit may have led to man's exile from Eden but as a result man is given the chance to redeem himself and thus find a place in Heaven.
Each book of Paradise Lost begins with an argument, this is essentially a synopsis of the book and here Milton writes straightforward prose summaries that are then elaborated through the proceeding verse. The startling imagery at the beginning of the poem describes the battle between Heaven and Hell and the reader can enjoy a dramatic chain of events in which 'war open or understood must be resolved' (Book I i 661).
Although the story of the fall of man has been told ad infinitum, Milton's retelling of this Biblical tale is easily the most captivating and acutely allegorical of man's follies. This text serves as a standard for which all epic poems should be judged, and this is no exaggeration as Milton's flawlessly consistent tone is unmatched in its poetic beauty and narrative strength.

The Eclogues and The Georgics by Virgil

Continuing on with my reviews of classical poetry, I stumbled across the ancient Roman poet, Virgil. After reading The Divine Comedy I was intrigued to learn more of Dante's Spiritual Guide, Virgil.
The first point to mention about this poet's work is that any modern translation is only a rough adaptation of the original work due to the age of the text. Still, The Eclogues, a collection of ten pastoral poems prove an interestingly relevant read with their message of turning swords into ploughs. The odd phrasing and imagery of The Eclogues as well as cultural and religious references may throw the reader off at times, but Virgil's rustic narrative is relatively easy-going. The Eclogues are fairly short, only about two pages or so each, however their brevity is compensated by the poetic (and at times didactic) voice of the poet.
The Georgics are comprised of four books, each of about twenty or so pages. Virgil uses a combination of script-based dialogue and prose poetry to create a series of sketches denoting rural life in ancient Rome. The first book asserts Virgil's idea of agriculture over warfare and is summed up by the beautiful lines:

'Right and wrong are confused here,

There's so much war in the world.

Evil has so many faces, the plough so little.'

The second book includes Virgil's advice to farmers on wine, arboreal cultivation, yielding of fruits and the book concludes with a likening of farming to acts of warfare on the earth.

The third book of The Georgics addresses shepherds and horse owners as well as Virgil's warnings about diseases of livestock and the profound effect this has on the farmer.

The final book, and my personal favourite of Virgil's work, describes the maintenance of the beehive. The bees are likened to the Roman people, from the servile drones to the protected queen. Virgil satirises his native country and the notion of dulce et decorum est pro patria mori, sweetness is to be found through the cultivation of honey not through bloodshed or glory. Again Virgil describes diseases which may afflict the bees, only this time the image is extended into a story describing a character called Proteus who is angry at the god Orpheus for the loss of his bees. The story develops as Eurydice, a mythological character is killed by a snake bite. This peculiar narrative is an allegory perhaps for losses and victories experienced not by the soldier but by the farmer. 

Although Virgil's works may seem daunting and obtuse to the modern reader, there are present many socially relevant themes, such as that of subsistence farming and pacifism. As with most classical texts, the reader would be well advised to consult the footnotes and translations in the appendix, however,Virgil for the best part of The Eclogues and The Georgics maintains the common language of man.

The Divine Comedy, Book III: Paradiso by Dante

In this final installment of Dante's masterpiece trilogy, we witness the Pilgrim's ascent through the spheres of heaven to be reunited with his lover Beatrice. Having parted from his Guide, Virgil in Purgatory, Dante is guided by Beatrice through heaven. The spheres of paradise are planetary or celestial bodies, the first being the moon and the proceeding through the known solar system of the period. On each sphere, Dante describes beautiful glowing lights accompanied by angelic voices that recite hymns, most of which are in Latin, but the translations are provided in the notes. Unlike the previous two books there is markedly less action in Paradiso as Dante seems more inclined to describe the beatific, rapturous realms of Heaven. This may deter some readers who were expecting an action-packed denoument to the Divine Comedy, however, Dante retains his masterful narrative by using engaging discourse between narrator and character in each canto.
Perhaps the most striking images of Paradiso are the formations of a giant eagle composed of saints and other virtuous people that flies over the head of the Pilgrim and asks him questions; and also the celestial rose made of an assembly of angelic souls where in Dante is questioned about the origins of faith.
The theological themes of the Divine Comedy, derived from Dante's knowledge of Christianity and Aquinian philosophy, makes the work a vitally significant source for both religious and atheistic readers who may draw swifter conclusions from reading this work than sifting through the vast canon of Christian doctrine.
All in all, Paradiso is a fitting end to a brilliant trilogy. The touching reunion between Dante and his deceased lover, Beatrice makes for a delightful story and the wealth of religious allegory and analogy keeps the reader focussed on the intention of the text; to provide an insight into the unseen, the afterlife.

Sample chapters of my new novella

Here are the first two chapters of a short novel I am working on. (N.B: the lack of grammar and extended sentences is a nod to Marcel Proust/Beckett) Let me know what you think.


In a large garden barefoot on patio surrounded by tall flowers swaying on zephyrs lemon oil rubbed on callussed hands scent hits back of throat and moistens eyes step off dusty patio onto wet wet grass blades of grass mother nature's little hairs wet & fresh ground walking to a lemon tree that bears orange fruit sweet and earthly.
Outside, upside-down morning stepping on her foot by accident I said sorry and then she kissed me because I weigh nothing to her. We held hands and circumnavigated the garden treading on all the flowers with our bare feet the birds sang a strange aria. We settled in the middle of the garden on a large gray pedestal raising us only a few inches from the fresh ground. Rather than sunlight there was a yellowish smear in the sky, rather than clouds were smudges of thick white paste at irregular spurts across the horizon. With the birds flying above us and the aerial glow it all felt rather quaint and like it should be in English gardens. It was a shame the city adjacent never got a look in on our little garden.
Everybody in the city had jobs to do and roles to fill and sandwiches to tear from plastic wrapping. Here in the garden I could sit with this strange girl and be whatever I wanted to be. We could circumnavigate the garden and trample the flowers or we could drink from the stream ( more later) or we could eat the orange fruit of the lemon tree. People in the city never had time for things like this, subsistent on smog, gossip and takeaways, the city people got by from day to day but there was nothing to look forward to. I have only learnt of the citry through telepathic communication from my dear friend and city dweller, Proust ( more of him later)
Anyhow, the strange girl and I were sitting on the gray pedestal staring into each other's eyes, waiting for the colours to change. 'How come mother is in such pain?' I asked. She turned her eyes to the ground, colour draining from her doll-like face. I quickly dug my hand into my pocket and pulled out a lozenge of blue candy. 'Be careful' Proust echoed to me, inside my mind. I clutched her nose between my thumb and forefinger her lips involuntarily parted and with surgical precision I slid the lozenge onto her tongue and retracted my hands leaving her to suck on the ambrosial candy. After a few minutes the lozenge dissolved and she cleared her throat 'hrrph'. 'In answer to your question, my dear boy; in sickness ded junkies play in forest fires and yet you still suffer daily. Just wait 'till climate change, I'll store you downstairs in dead twentieth century thinkers left on the bus, you'll get your children soon'. Rather than submit to roaring passion and overwhelming lust, I went cold turkey, leaving her high and dry on the gray pedestal while I went for another one of my walks around the garden. I went down by the stream where I inhaled a cup of spiced tea, we could get tea from an old sewage pipe that leaked from the city into the garden. As I drank I thought about the wasted years of my life, that nothing could compensate for my loss of interest in all things and the treadmill of time I am doomed to walk 'till my liver backs up on this tea. Hardly the waters of the Lethe.
I then ventured into the deeper realms of thought; how I do not understand or appreciate any aspect of modern society from the last ten years or so. All those telepathic bus rides into the city, city, city blocked up in London and not permitted access to lovers and travellers and whereto now? Only way seems wombwards, to decay into an infantile state, rebuilding innocence and forgetting this whole horrible waiting game of life with inefficient one-time pleasures renewed daily with idiotic optimism. I am hamstrung in the human race, I am crippled and lame and countless other diseases. Only a sincere kiss from a like-minded Christmas-lover can save me from this terrible winter.
I found myself and left the stream, the strange girl was by the lemon tree standing reading Spenser's Faerie Queene; it's a biography of the unknown soldier's fairy godmother.
I have a brother in the city but more of him later. Well if you must know we talk only telepathically like Proust but only tedious things like death, coffee & lunch-break gossip.
Am I destined for the rest of my days to scratch this irrestible itch of curiosity? What is it that I must apologize for? What, what, what does it mean to be a pious character these days? Laying on sentiments to an invisible force, presenting to gods nosegays of compassion after fighting bloody wars? Find peace first, then find the correct authority.
I am a man of unstable convictions, that is my prinicples change with the current clime. Here in the garden it is the same situation evr'y day and night. I have explained to you my routines of circumnavigating and tea-drinking, but it is the strange girl who holds the majority of my life's essence. All my long life I have been entrusting my future into this girl hoping one day that she will reciprocate my devotion somehow. I am reaching the point now where it seems my efforts have been in vain, though we hold hands we do no tyet hold hearts. How I wish I could open the floodgates of my inner psyche, flooding her with my hidden thoughts, I would hold back nothing and nothing would remain. But alas, I am subjected to this pitiful existence in this Babylonic garden of unsurpassable beauty, to tread through fields of swaying daisies, buttercups whatever they are... how I wish I had one of those city relationships where couples vent their feelings to each other after a hard day's work at the office. How they share a two-bedroom apartment, how they send text messages to each other and make phone calls, arrive home at late hours, go drinking, go raving but most importantly get laid..Yes it seems like it would be quite preferable for a person in my situation, and a sad situation it is, to move into the city and become one of those awesome creatures known culturally as 'a citizen'. Oranges and Lemons say the bells of...

Phase 2: Into the City

I decided to cut my losses and leave the garden, to head out into the city and get some real action. It would be tough certainly to break the cycle; the routine I had developed from spending years in the garden with the strange girl. But I decided it was now or never, else I faced further fermentation of the spirit sitting in the garden slowly becoming part of the loamy soils day by day.
As the jaundiced sky lit up a sickly glow, I gathered myself from the midst of a frilly shrub, the strange girl was still deep in slumber, her birdcage chest swelling and subsiding with each languid breath. I realised it would be best not to wake her lest she launch into another tirade of how lucky I was to live in such a garden whereas others such as her brother never got such a good opportunity to live a wholesome life. No, I most certainly did not want to hear that old rhubarb, so I dashed across the garden, trampling countless flowers, only this would be the last time I would do such a thing. I scaled the tired brown wall that surrounds the garden, it is quite high but I am quite the athlete and so I made it over easy. I jumped down off the wall onto the cold hard concrete of reality. I quickly surveyed my surroundings and was almost surprised by what I saw. I received regular telepathic images of the City from Proust so I knew what to expect, however, what caught me off guard here was seeing actual real humans walking, talking and riding across the streets. Proust had only transmitted static images of the city, mere photographs, tableaux of typical city scenes. I was taken aback by a young man in a business suit strolling along whispering sweet nothings into his mobile phone which he cradled lovingly in his finely manicured hand. I always notice these lovely details about people, maybe I spent too long looking through the rose kaleidoscope we used to have in the garden. I headed to city hall, piecing together the static images in my mind into some kind of makeshift map. The air was thick with exhaust fumes, sweat and vittels. A smell that attacks your lungs and soon you no longer notice it,as the city draws you deeper into its sensory maze . After milling about the high street for twenty minutes or so, I realised it was time to settle down and find somewhere to rest and in the longer term, somewhere to live. I found a vacant apartment above a row of chainstore restrauants. I cut a quick deal with the landlord and put down a deposit. I had come into a windfall back in the garden when the seldom-seen caretaker who trimmed stray mosses passed away in his shed. 'Promise me you'll not give a red cent to charity' he said on his deathbed, an old sack of compost.Staying true to his word, I had come to the city to spoend money lavishly, the apartment was just the beginning. As I only had in my possession the clothes on my back and my money, I decided to hit the shops the next day and furnish my pad. I scoured the high street, flitting from shop to shop like a giddy moth, I returned to the apartment clutching my purchases and awaiting the delivery of several orders I had placed for objects to large to carry.

The Frogs by Aristophanes

This short two-act play by the ancient Greek composer, Aristophanes is a masterpiece of comic theatre. The Frogs is the story of Dionysius, the god of drama, searching for a poet to save the city of Athens which leads him and his slave, Xanthias into the underworld to seek out the best classical poet.
This notion, that 'a poet should teach a lesson, make people into better citizens' is used to comic effect by Aristophanes.The slapstick routines of the characters and the farcical portrayal of gods and their slaves makes for an enjoyable and entertaining read, unlike other intimidating classical texts, Aristophanes writes in the common language of man which maintains its humour to the present day.
As Dionysius is ferried into the underworld by Charon, there is a humourous encounter with the frog chorus who insist that Dionysius join in with their song, he refuses and is mocked. When he arrives in the underworld  he meets the ancient poets Euripides and Aeschylus and under the guidance of Pluto a contest is held to determine who is the greater poet. Each poet proceeds to mock each others work to win the audience's approval. The Frogs is both comical and critical of poetry, Aristophanes' masterful wit questions the value of common vulgar modern poetry, such as that of Euripides to the far-fetched epic tradition of Aeschylus. The latter is ultimately the victor of the contest and the play concludes with Dionysius escorting him back to Athens to save the city.
I chose to read this play simply on a whim, and my curiosity paid off as I believe Aristophanes' work is still relevant and capable of providing inspiration to the modern day audience.

The Divine Comedy, Book II: Purgatorio by Dante

The 33 cantos that form the second book of The Divine Comedy describe the realm of Purgatory, a place between Heaven and Hell. Continuing on from the first book, Inferno, the Pilgrim (Dante himself) is accompanied again by his Guide, the ancient poet Virgil. The pair start from the bottom of the Island of Purgatory and begin their climb to reach the Earthly Paradise.
Stylistically, Dante's impeccable use of imagery both common and divine, creates an almost religious experience of the sinner's ascent to Heaven. Each canto, though brief, deals with both the physical suffering of those trapped in Purgatory and also the inner thoughts of Dante as he goes in search of his deceased lover, Beatrice. Dante's innovative use of his native Italian language, which in the Penguin Classics translation is flawless, astounds the reader in its simplicity and vividness. Although it is perhaps inevitable that the modern reader will have to rely on explanatory notes regarding ancient Greek, Roman and Latin references, the plot and poetry of the work flows with such ease and cadence.
Throughout the poem, Dante encounters the various types of sinner, ranging from the Excommunicated (those who were expelled by the church, yet repented before their deaths) as well as various others such as the Envious, the Proud and the Avaricious. Each group of sinners is meted out a suitable punishment, the Envious are forced to stare down at the ground with rocks tied to their backs, the Proud have their eyes sewn shut with iron thread and the avaricious are denied food that appears before them. Dante meets several of his friends in Purgatory, each are amazed to see him in the flesh as only the dead are allowed to reside in Purgatory, but it is by special permission that Dante has gained access along with Virgil, his guide.
The religious themes of the Divine Comedy are portrayed with such engaging imagery that is a refreshing change to the wholly didactic method of other religious texts. Dante is both poet and story-teller but he is not a preacher, here in Purgatory he is merely a spectator among the dead, searching for his lover, Beatrice.
The poignant conclusion of Purgatorio involves the manifestation of Beatrice in the garden of Eden and Dante is lost for words. Yet enough has been told already, like the description of the beautiful woodland in the Earthly Paradise which was described by one critic as ' the sweetest passage of wood description that exists in literature'.
It is clear that Dante was a master of his art, yet he also created a perfect formula for the poetic trilogy: Hell, Purgatory and Heaven have been used ad infinitum since Dante's time as both metephorical and literal settings, but Dante's unique mastery of his language as well as his excellent storytelling makes The Divine Comedy one of the best epic poems in the literary canon.

NEW POEM: Capital Ode: for the Olympics 2012

In line with the myriad poetry competitions based on the 2012 Olympics, I have decided to pen my own ode to the forthcoming games. I ask that the reader take no offence to this work as it is merely a device to counteract the tide of insincere optimism that is churned out by the media ad nauseam. I wrote this poem in the style of The Odes by the ancient poet, Horace.
Enjoy:


For the Parnassus, 2012


A Capital Ode

The tax-supported pillars stand erect in the city,
Streamlined traffic flows to the cardium cynosure.
Amongst the exhausts of pedestrian critics, a spirit is heard:
'There, we are of the disenfranchised youth, glossed over by
Government.
The celebratons are top priority, nothing is given to us.'

It is not cynical to deride those jingoists,
Whose feigned joviality masks their missing identity.
The same is true of the cynics themselves,
 who barely believe in their own lives.
Behind the commrecial facade, lies the same problematic city
That is tinkered with by the Elected.
And when the decorations are torn down at the end,
The citizens will be reminded of their emptiness.
So, the pretence of victory and of showering both victor and victrix ludorum with golden praise, will be in vain.
The victory of unity has yet to be attained.

As a nation connects itself to a legacy
What is to be said of its own native history?
Integrity is not measured in revenue.
But to what lengths will a nation plunge to soar from its debts?
These coming games will reveal
Will commerce overtake the sincere?
I fear the race has already been run.

'The Panther' by Rainer Maria Rilke

After visiting my local library I chanced upon a book of poems by the Bohemian poet, Rilke. As I am currently on a mission to familiarize myself with as many poets as I can, I took out the book and read a few of the poems.
At first glance, I wasn't too impressed. Rilke's early poems seemed to be over-written Romantic depictions of nature and religion. Further on in the book though, I found a poem called 'The Panther' and when I read it I felt a certain kinship between me and Rilke. I felt as if I was looking at 'the thousand bars' of the panther's cage and I sympathized with the notion of 'no more world'.
Though the poem is but only four lines by three stanzas long and has a simple (predictable?) AB rhyme scheme, I felt this was sufficient in enabling close visualization of captivity and the emotive response. The poem itself was a turning point in Rilke's career, he was advised by his friend Ronin (the famous artist): 'to keep on looking at something till you're able to make a poem out of it'. This proved to be good advice as the poem feels like an eternity of incarceration with its comma-broken lines and Rilke has clearly stared long and hard at his subject, the panther in captivity to create a short haunting poem that has influenced a myriad Observationists.

You can find a copy of 'The Panther' in the Penguin Classics edition of Selected Poems by Rainer Maria Rilke

Building On Impulse: The Birth of a Poem

I thought it would be worth describing here how I believe poetry is created. Writing itself is an entirely unique craft that cannot be taught by any didactic measures, instead it relies on self-motivation and the desire to express one's own imagination.


As something of an amateur poet, I have devised my own method in which I pen my works (this includes my attempts at prose-fiction). I will describe it here in some detail, though it should not be taken as anything but advisory.


Considering the notion that 'poetry should express emotion but the poet should not feel it', I think it is important that a poem does indeed invoke emotions in the reader but that they are the reader's own emotions not simply an empathetic replication of the poet's. By attaching no sentimental values to their work, a poet avoids cringe-worthy outbursts and melodramatic ramblings, that in all honesty appear adolescent in tone.


The essence of poetry is cerebral, not emotional. A poem stems from single or multiple impulses which meld into thoughts and are translated into words. Emotions, namely self-pity and passion to name but a few, blur the true intention of the poet and their work becomes mired in conflicting emotive/figurative images that ultimately create tedious confusion.


What is needed in the crafting of poetry, in my opinion, is careful construction of thought that arises spontaneously and is nurtured into a poetic form by the discerning eye of the poet.
I will mention the Modernism movement here as I feel that its tendency to be willfully obscure encapsulates the point I am making. James Joyce's Modernist epic, Ulysses, is a prime example of translated thoughts untainted by form or convention and the result is a richly psychological odyssey that is both captivating and baffling. Great poetry requires subtlety, that is certain, so rather than ostentatious odes to wallowing in Goethe-esque sorrow or attempting to mimic the rhapsodic Romantic voice, a poet is better off delving into their own mind and fashioning their own interpretation of art, without fear of pretension. Style is simply the placement of chosen words on a page, it is the reasoning behind style that is the true poetry.


The progression of culture in this present age has led to a generation of trend-chasers, but the poet must be stoic in their own innovations and continually seek to build something out of the fragments of this broken society.

Nautical Poems: The Wreck of the Hesperus by Longfellow vs. The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Coleridge

So, upon my reading of the Wordsworth/Coleridge collaboration Lyrical Ballads, I felt that I should review what is arguably one of Coleridge best poems; The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Anyone studying GCSE, A-level or degree level English will inevitably stumble across this lengthy narrative poem, and it has been prolifically referenced in culture. A brief synopsis of the poem is that 'the ancient mariner' is recounting his tale to 'a wedding guest', the tale is essentially a voyage the mariner took on his ship wherein the crew became lost but a lone albatross served to guide them to their destination, the mariner gets annoyed by the presence of the bird and shoots it with an arrow. The crew is left lost in the middle of the ocean and the famous lines:

Water, water everywhere and all the boards did shrink/ 

Water, water everywhere ne a drop to drink 

The poem is characteristic of the despair present in Coleridge's poetry yet there is also a supernatural element that adds a certain charm that is not always present in his fellow poet Wordsworth, whose odes to nature reflected in tranquility lack the action  and intrigue of The Ancient Mariner.

I chose to include here, as a point of comparison, The Wreck of the Hesperus by the American poet, Henry Longfellow. This is also a narrative poem and has an almost identical theme of a captain ignoring advice and thus facing dire consequences. In the poem, the captain of the Hesperus is warned by a crew member to avoid a dangerous current, but the captain is too proud to heed the advice as his daughter is on board. As the ship enters the stormy area the captain ties his daughter to the mast so that she is safe, when the storm settles the ship has been destroyed and all that remains is the captain's daughter left tied to the mast in the'frozen gloom'. Both these poems are about the consequences of ignoring help, both the Ancient Mariner and the captain of the Hesperus were overcome by hubris and agitation which led to their Hamartian fates.

Unlike some other poets of their age (Wordsworth and Whitman, to name but a few), Coleridge and Longfellow write in a very readable style and this is perhaps the reasoning behind their gratuitous use in schools. They are enjoyable tales that are relevant to the present day and their cultural significance makes them necessary reading for any budding poet.

Inferno by Dante Alighieri and A Scattering by Christopher Reid

Hello, here are the first two reviews of poetry I have read, enjoy.

Inferno- Book I of the Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri

As my first review for this blog, I felt it is fitting to start from one of the biggest influences of the poetry world, Dante Alighieri. His magnum opus, The Divine Comedy has become a formulaic structure for a myriad supernatural adventure tales. I have chosen to review only the first book of the trilogy, Inferno, which charters the narrator, Dante’s journey through the seven circles of Hell after becoming lost in the forest. He is accompanied by a guide, the ancient poet Virgil. The following books, Purgatorio and Paradiso chronicle the ascent through purgatory and finally, heaven.

Inferno is structured into thirty-four cantos and each three-line stanza is composed in a uniquely rich prosaic/poetic language. Dante is seen as a pioneer of his native Italian language and upon reading the English translation here, I found that there is a charming storyteller-like feel to each canto. Though Dante is often seen as the Italian equivalent to Chaucer, there is arguably something more thrilling and engaging in the supernatural horror and beauty of The Divine Comedy than the rustic and bawdy lyric of The Canterbury Tales.

Dante questions the divine justice meted out to pious followers of Christianity. The suffering of the sinners in Hell is told in graphic detail, akin to the infernal images described in the Holy Bible. Though the modern reader may see this as only poetic fancy and hyperbole, it should be noted that the work was composed during the Dark Ages in which religion was held not as belief but universal fact.

So it is here in the Inferno, that Dante tells of the horrific fate of the Christian sinner. However, there is no element of didacticism or any attempt to proselytise the reader into living a virtuous life, moreover, this epic poem has a fable-like feel in which actions are met with consequences. The poetic value of Dante’s work cannot be overstated, images and devices featured in the Divine Comedy are prevalent not just in poetry but culture as a whole.

‘The river of blood’ from Canto XII and ‘the dolorous forest’ in Canto XIV are seen as products of ‘the vengeance of God’. Dante expands his narrative to describe the torment and pain of the condemned, Dante as the narrator of the Inferno is powerless to save any of the afflicted sinners he comes across, this issue of narrative passivity and intervention is perhaps one of the greatest devices of intrigue used within modern literature. Think back to any contemporary first person novel you may have read, and it is likely that the narrator has only a passive voyeur role in the story and serves merely as reportage, yet are still vital to the plot. Here in Inferno, Dante and Virgil conduct themselves through the circles of Hell and what they see serves as basis of the poem.

The cultural significance of this poem is vast, our perceptions of Hell if we choose to believe it, are almost stemmed from The Divine Comedy. Cliché images of fire and brimstone and demons are the result of Dante’s unceasing influence on literature. You should read this wonderful epic poem not for literary merit but out of your own curiosity to journey down through the circles of hell and to witness the superbly written vision of Hell. Thought the archaic language may appear to some as tedious and superfluous, the vivid imagery of infernal torment will certainly draw in any reader with a craving for supernatural horror. Dante’s fluid, masterful style makes Inferno a smooth journey through the afterlife, though after reading it there is always the desire ‘to rebehold the stars’ and begin the whole journey again.


A Scattering by Christopher Reid

A Scattering is a collection of poems by the prolific contemporary poet Christopher Reid. The poems are written in memoriam to his late wife Lucinda. The whole collection is twinged with a poignant sadness and gallows humour that is both bittersweet and somewhat disturbing. It is a brilliantly composed book which was rightly received the Costa Book Award 2009.

The first series of poems, titled, The Flowers of Crete is a witty and vivid account of Reid’s holiday with his wife. Reid focuses on the human reactions to life’s mundane situations and how these relate to deeper emotions, in other words a typical figurative approach, but there is a sincerity here in Reid’s voice that could only be manifested by someone who has witnessed the sorrow of bereavement. The opening verses describe ‘big sting-toting insects’ contrasted by ‘a blue-green glaze on the bay’. It seems whenever Reid looks to closely at the world he must look away and resort to grand poetic imagery. However, Reid achieves this with a degree of subtlety, attention is shifted from ‘ glib analogies’ and ‘makeshift rhymes’ which Reid calls ‘the crimes of your husband the poet’ and instead reveals a bare-faced despair described as ‘ a dry sort of pleasure’.

The next series in A Scattering is titled simply, The Unfinished, and as the name suggests, there are included eleven fragmented poems that in their brevity reveal a despair that is deeply moving and far from sentimentality. Reid describes in painful detail the dying stages of his terminally ill wife in hospital, beginning from the ‘sparse breaths’ to the ‘ultimate calm’. Reid reveals his close relationship with Lucinda, informing us of their mannerisms as well as describing the deteriorating health of his wife. ‘Those last few days of drug drowse and coma comfort’ are written with such frankness at times that the poems appear a perverse mockery as Reid describes ‘her bald head like a baby’ but once again this is grief-stricken sarcasm. These poems are Reid’s attempt to downplay the tragic requiems penned by melancholic writers and instead he creates a disturbingly intimate sadness that is arguably far more effective.

A Widower’s Dozen is the third series of A Scattering, and the poems included are Reid’s reaction to his wife’s untimely death. As with the previous series, Unfinished, these poems are similarly brief but striking nonetheless. The first poem, Conundrum is Reid’s admission of feeling like ‘my own ghost’ as he is haunted by the late Lucinda. A Scattering, the title of the second poem is a witty tale of elephants scattering the bones of their deceased, Reid announces he will ‘place my own sad thoughts in new, hopeful arrangements’. This hint of optimism is integral to this collection, Reid is in a state of despair but is looking for a way back to the happiness he once knew. A Scattering is a collection of the poet’s attempts at finding happiness after sorrow. The final series, titled Lucinda’s Way is again a fragmented narrative, though focussed on memory and the influence of time. Reid recalls his years of marriage, but now writes ‘in the cumbersome retrospective mood’. The past has become a burden, but must be remembered out of respect; Reid is left with nothing but to lament his sorrows and then move on or else remain ‘jealous of the years when I didn’t know you’.

A Scattering is a highly emotive read, but is also witty and humorous in a morbid way. Read these poems not as epitaphs but as casual anecdotes told by the bereaved who cannot let go of their memories.

Welcome to My Blog

Hello, I'm Robert, an amateur poet and writer (as of yet unpublished, but the ambition is there). I created this blog to serve as a source of review and insight into the literary world, in particular, classical and contemporary poetry. I am deeply interested in works of the past and how they influence present and future writers, I also love reading, so this blog is a fitting device for my opinionated output. However, I do not wish to merely give my opinion on a book, but to give a generalized analysis that will hopefully lead others to read the book for themselves and thus inspire them. It may appear wholly didactic of me to assert the values and benefits of reading here, but I believe in this modern age of frivolity and gimmick we need a return to substantial literature that provides not just information or a cheap thrill but wisdom and the inspiration to create our own work.
 I will avoid being overly sentimental and state that poetry is for all, it is the very translation of thought, something intimate and unique, I hope that by offering my reviews of poets I admire will inspire others to write their own works.
My first review is yet to be confirmed but will be coming shortly

-Robert