18

TH
CENTURY AND ROMANTICISM
NEOCLASSICISM AND THE POETRY OF ALEXANDER POPE
The early Enlightenent !"1#$$ !1#%%&
1688 the Glorious Revolution (the Stuarts were finally evicted). This revolution created the conditions out
of which the new literature was to spring. The Glorious Revolution eant the triuph of the ercantile
interests and of the capitalist inded of the landed aristocracy. !t eant the esta"lishent of a liited
onarchy. #iterature fro then on was to "e definitely "ourgeois in tone and it was the wider audience of
the "ourgeoisie whose taste had to "e caught.
Chara'teri(ti' )*tl))+ ), the -eri)./
0 The idea of a general progress of huanity$
0 %elief in the power of reason (already fostered "y the Renaissance)$ #oc&e's tabula rasa idea a
"asis for that "elief a possi"ility for huan perfection$
0 Shafts"ury the principle of "alance or harony "(n various eleents in which reason played a
controlling part. )oderation in everything* suspicion of whatever enthusias$
0 +eis, the idea of a religion of reason$ God created the world and ordained its laws* "ut after that
had withdrawn fro his creation and left it to develop in accordance with these laws.
In literat*re/
0 the su"-ect of literature, an the cultivated an of the upper class$
0 the function of literature, oral teaching through delight$
0 everything was to "e stated as plainly and directly as possi"le.
P)etry ), the -eri)./
.lready during the Restoration* poetry had "een doc&ed of its ore personal eleents* its intiate lin&s
with nature* and had centered ainly in satire* in trivial love verse* and typical society and occasional verse*
popous odes in cele"ration of pu"lic events etc. The chief contri"ution of the /arly /nlightenent was the
rise of the poetic essay* reflective, philosophical verse and also in the popular pastorals there is a re"irth of
nature.
Ale1an.er P)-e "1288 ! 1#%%&
The poetry of the .ugustans* which is a"ove all the poetry of stateent* stands outside the ain traditions
of /nglish poetry* which has ostly "een the poetry of suggestion.
Reason, largely the state of language at that tie. .fter the e0trees of the etaphysical wit in the 11
th
c.
the reaction (Royal society) was towards a mathematical precision of statement. To attain these words were
deprived of their overtones and associations$ etaphors were gained* in their "older fors at least* as a
twisting of language out of its proper nors. The i.eal was correctness* perspicuity* and elegance$ not to
e0press the ine0plica"le* not to suggest ore than is actually said. 2hat was e0pected of the poet was wit
the capacity for lively* une0pectedly vivid thought or e0pression. The poet should surprise (11
th
c) "ut only
"y the econoy and appositeness of his e0pression ( 11
th
c) the her)i' ')*-let 3 the ideal vehicle for
that each pair of lines could "e polished short to see li&e an epigra saying or poe* which e0presses
an idea in a clever or ausing way.
Criteria ,)r g)). 3er(e/
0 heroic couplet$
1
0 avoidance of long strings of onosylla"les$
0 #atini4ed voca"ulary$
0 pauses suited to the deands of the etre$
0 a strong caesura after the 5
th
* 6
th
or the 6
th
sylla"le a "alance "(n the two parts thus fored and
"(n the lines of the couplet providing onotony of elody$
The theory of poetic diction* attac&ed "y the Roanticists* held the idea that the language of poetry had to
"e elevated a"ove that of prose through the following eans,
0 all the eaner words of everyday life and words with too prosaic or too varied associations should
"e "anned and avoided through the use of periphrasis a syste was "uild up and "ecae so
fi0ed that it needed no iaginative gift to apply it (e.g. the spring a fountain* a "ird). )ost of
those descriptive phrases were so well esta"lished that they devitali4ed the picture and ro""ed it of
its concreteness which led to lac& of originality$
0 only elevated su"-ects should "e treated$
0 according to the "asic theory of art* its su"-ect was the general and the typical* not the specific$
0 iitation of nature ( Roanticis) the 7irror8 v(s the lap it's a result of the periphrasis
artificial language into which the thought had to "e translated. 2hat was recoended to the poet
was, first compose your thoughts in prose, and then translate them into verse (according to poetic
diction)$
0 use of various rhetorical figures. 9ne of the is personification* also attac&ed "y the Roanticists.
(:ope's Windsor forest). The &ind of personification (esp. in the latter part of the 18
th
c.) "y which
every a"stract idea was converted into a sort of Roan god or goddess. The .ugustans had paved
the way for this "y the use of the inor gods of the later Roan pantheon Flora, Fauna, Romina
etc.
4 De')r* ! elevated su"-ects deand elevated style.
N5/ :ope helped to fi0 the cliate of poetry "y his practice. ;e have e"odied the tendencies of literature
in his wor&s.
11<= > Pastorals: eclogues on the four seasons* traces of poetic diction.
1111 Essay on Lyricism (rhyed for), :ope had nothing new to say on the thee "ut he treated it ore
concretely and said things with such directness that they seeed new. :ope recoended his critics to loo
for vigour and that was what he gave the. There is no trace of poetic diction in the poe "ecause the
su"-ect did not deand any great elevation of style.
Translation of ;oer :ope followed the custo of his day and adapted this author to conteporary
fashions* thus changing* e0panding and cutting the original ? edition of Sha&espeare.
1111 a sall volue of iscellaneous poes* aong which is !he Rape of the Loc short* oc&>heroic
epic. !t is "uilt around an incident in high life. !ts intention is to reconcile the indignant young lady and to
pour gentle ridicule in the whole affair "y treating it in the inflated epic style. The epigraatic couplet
for (heroic couplet) perfectly suits the lightly ironical tone. . playful air is created "y the rhetorical
figures (anticlia0* 4euga). The wor& is full of ary of sylphs and gnoes. The poe ridicules the
fashiona"le world of :ope's days. The effect of the poe lies in the e0@uisite ad-ustent "(n the epic and
the undane planes on which it oves.
.lso in this volue are to "e found,
Windsor Forest " very typical poe of the period reflections on life at court* on peace* retireent*
prosperity etc. The stance of the spea&er is accoodated to social order. .ll that he sees* evo&es thoughts
a"out social life. Stylistic figures, generali4ation and personification few details* no 7!8* it is su"ersed
"y the collective 7we8 i-er()nal -)etry6
A
#apho to Phaon and Eloisa to $belard show :ope fro a rather une0pected side$ they are passionate
confessions of a woan's love.
!he %runard 11A1 satire. !t tells of the appointent of the poet laureate as a ruler "y her own &ingdo
"y the goddess of +ullness* of his coronation* of the great vision of the past* present and future of dullness
that coes as he lies sleeping in her lap adness is agnified until it "ecoes grotes@ue.
&mitation of 'orace is a continuation of the satirical vein.
N5/ !n the B<s :ope developed a"ove all as a philosophical poet.
Essay on (an " rhyed verse. :ope is steering "(n the e0trees and foring a temperate system of ethics)
;is choice of verse rather than prose he thought that verse ipresses itself ore strongly on the ind "ut
also he found that he could e0press hiself ore convincingly in verse.
:ope's philosophy is entirely typical of his age, two principles reign in huan nature (el,0l)3e (ore
powerful) and rea()n* the controller (wea&er* "ecause it is ore a"stract to "e trusted). Reason's function is
to control and channeli4e the passions "ecause if the passions are allowed to revolt they appear as vices "ut
when properly "ridled* they "ecoe virtues. The happiness 3 su"itting to the whole divine schee.
N5/ #oc&e's re-ection of the innate ideas in favour of the notion of &nowledge* "ased on e0ternal sensation
and internal reflection* helped to deterine the tendency in any 18
th
c. writers to descri"e the o"serva"le
world rather than the other* su"-ective interpretation of the wor&ings of the psyche.
:ope's two ost sustained narrative satires* !he Rape of the Loc and the %runard show his ver"al
assaults on society and its shortcoings. !he Rape of the Loc critici4es the anners of the aristocracy.
:ope's delight in doesticating the epic and de"anning the heroic is evident. Superficially* the poe
underines poposity "ut on another level it serves to e0pose false or inverted values. !t sees the relations
"(n en and woen reduced "y the social conventions to a "attle in which "eauty is a weapon* reputation is
a defense.
!he %runard is an antiheroic oc&>epic. :ope conteplates the threat of a final triuph of Chaos "rought
a"out "y huan ignorance. +ullness is the 7)other of .rrogance8* the source of pride* and the disorderer
of a divinely tiny universe.
!he Poet of his $ge " spea&ing not solely for hiself* "ut for the age and society in which he lived. ;is
achieveent lies in the perfection of what his age called 7-udgent8 a sense of fitness so e0@uisite that it
transcends all ere calculation. !n everything he wrote there is a sense of soething shared 3 his awareness
of his audience.
:ope responded to different &inds of thees with rear&a"le variousness. %oth the e0citeent and variety
in his poetry derive fro the perfect ad-ustent of style to feelings.
.ll considera"le poetry depends partly on the relationship "etween style and content. :ope's poetry is such
in which the poet sees to suggest that no difficulties e0ist "ecause the ediu is so perfectly suited to the
thee.
N5/ :ope did not erely reflect his world* 7iitate8 it artistically or -ust coent on it. .s he atured* he
also cae to represent it his world really 7spea&s through hi8. :ope a&es his world conscious of itself
there"y he partly recreates it.
THE RISE OF THE EN7LISH NO8EL IN THE 18
TH
CENTURY
The rise of the /nglish novel "egan soewhere around the second half of the 11
th
century* when the novel
as a genre was still non>e0istent. The rise of the novel was connected with certain changes in /uropean
society.
B
.ccording to %a&htin* the writing of a novel presupposes a novelistic attitude towards reality> no such until
the 18
th
century.
!n the period "efore the 18
th
century the attitude towards reality was e-i'. The doinating genre was
respectively the her)i' e-i'6 The essence of the epic vision was "ased on ythology and the ain hero was
the collective image of the community that he represents.
N5/ The epic hero is a fully reali4ed person and does not develop in the course of the epic* which is not the
case with novels. There is a static @uality of the hero he is not an individual* "ut a sy"olic figure that
stands for the values of the counity* a ythological hero who is artificial* oversi4ed.
N5/ !n the epic there is no tie a &ind of vacuu surrounds such stories. The rie is typically the past
"ut we do not &now e0actly when. 2e cannot pro-ect our own e0periences in that fraewor&. The past is
ideali4ed. Tie was considered a repetition, a cycle, and was viewed as non>linear. 2ith the rise of science*
rationalis and the novel* tie "ecae hi(t)ri'al6
N5/ !n the novel the focus of interest is the real individual* the average person and he is firly rooted in his
failiar surroundings and their present. The novel is an epic of private life. 2e are presented with the fate
of the individual in society* his struggle for self>assertion and recognition. So in the novel there is n)
9alan'e "etween individual and counity as in the epic.
N5/ .t the "ase of the novel lies in.i3i.*ali(. The rise of individualis is a prere@uisite for the rise of
the novel. !t is different fro Renaissance individualis 3 man is the centre of the *niverse) This new
individualis is connected with social changes in the late 11
th
and the early 18
th
century, the rise of the
"ourgeoisie the new an eerged, self>confident* self>relia"le* curious* positivistic* his "ac&ground is of
no iportance (R. Crusoe).
!n the late 11
th
century there was a tendency in literature towards familiari+ation as a result of new interest
in a new entality* in iediate reality. /phasis was placed on personal e0perience* gossip* interest in
the 7now8 and 7here8. The Glorious Revolution pushed the coon people to the front line. 2riters of the
late 11
th
century contri"uted to the rise of the novel without &nowing it. The genre they wrote in was the
"iography uniaginative writing* diaries* and character s&etch. These prose narratives played an
iportant role for the developent of the /nglish novel they focused the attention in the historical and not
the epic thee$ tie was descri"ed fro the pris of the ordinary individual.
!n the early 18
th
century the /nglish literature was regarded as a ship satire and poetry were the high>dec&*
while paphlets and the literature of rogues (coes fro the picares@ue novel ( picaro 3 rogue( usually a
servant* with no "ac&ground* a rolling>stone* he's alienated o"server of society) > the low dec&. The novel
today rese"les the picares@ue novel.
9n /nglish soil* this picares@ue novel too& the for of criminal fiction. !t was not ade to teach no oral
essage. The criinal is a violator of social laws and conventions. ;e is a new* fascinating figure "ecause
he re"elled against different patterns.
Criinal ,i'ti)n e0tended in various forats,
0 casual paphlet (criinalistic -ournalis) of B>5 pages. The title contained the whole story. There
is no otive sought* the ephasis is on the act rather than on the perforer$
0 longer* 8>16 pages otives* conse@uences* "iography are included* et only in the act$ the act is a
testiony to the character of the criinal. There is a certain essage.
.nother genre was the 9i)gra-hie(. +efoe &new and read criinal "iographies "efore he wrote his wor&s.
They are ore detailed$ there is no fusion "etween realistic fiction and the oral generali4ation. The
oralistic view is separate. Dor instance ;. Dielding often interferes when giving his view. !n the odern
5
novel we have an indirect coent* it is inserted in a su"tle way. !n +efoe's novels* we have a certain
integration "etween purely allegorical and realistic "ut it is not enough.
The :;h)re 9i)gra-hy8, e.g. (oll Flanders
The e0ploration of the coic which consists of the attepts of the whore to rise in the world of en. The
pattern spiritual ruin and aterial enrichent. The whore is not descri"ed negatively although she strives
for pleasure and power alone. There is an a"undance of social types in this type of "iography.
2hore "iographies e0plore the hidden instinct of the reader towards su"version. The life of the average
reader is a routine E the need to escape fro reality and routine. Readers often identify theselves with
theselves and get soe satisfaction.
5))+( a9)*t -irate(/ the pirate (3criinal) is the violator at sea. ;e has power and is an e"odient of
freedo. ;e is full of sensation.
Chea- tra3el literat*re/ central sy"olic figure the 18
th
century traveler. ;e is a etaphor of odern
possi"ilities* he contains the ethos of con@uest. Stories were told that never happened.
Robinson ,rusoe and Gulliver are two opposites. Gulliver is a caricature of the traveler* the aristocracy and
the pragatic an* while R.C. is no irony or parody. ;e is genuine in search of con@uest and change. Swift
"elongs to the part* a conservative. ;e does not "elieve that a Crusoe can do all those things.
N5/ The older eaning of travel is the etaphor of the soul's -ourney to God. !n conventional literature*
travel is an allegory of life. !n the 18
th
century literature* the travel pattern is always sy"olic. %ut the
sy"olis in pirate stories is not conventional at all. The pirate's wonderings at sea are not necessarily
related to the -ourney to God. :irate's sy"olis is (e'*lar the pirate defies static e0istence of society
and sy"oli4es the new set of values, "ourgeois* ur"an v(s edieval values* according to which an is a
toy in God's hands. +efoe's ,aptain #ingleton coes closest to loo&s a"out pirates. ,olonel -ac.ue is ore
li&ely a criinal "iography.
Stage( ), the Engli(h n)3el/
1
(t
(tage/ De,)e an. S;i,t/
0 no plot* -ust a succession of events* which are not casually connected$
0 no dialogue$
0 no selection aong events and details$
0 the characters are F9T li&e puppets on a string.
<
n.
(tage/ Fiel.ing an. Ri'har.()n/
0 in the preface of -oseph $ndrews Dielding tries to define the novel and elevate it as a genre. ;e
introduces the 7coic approach8 as opposed to the epic approach and thus iplies closeness
(teporal and special) and failiarity.
0 Dielding is representative of Rationalis and Richardson stic&s to the ideas of !perialis.
0 Richardson uses the odel of domestic drama. ;e's the father of the sentimental novel)
=
r.
(tage/ intere.iate ), tren.( an. hy9ri.i>ati)n ), genre(? i1e. 'a(e(/ Oli3er 7)l.(ith@ Aane
A*(ten@ the 7)thi' n)3el6
The 18
th
'ent*ry n)3el(/ they constitute the early and tiely forative phase of the novel as a genre. !n the
18
th
c. there is a large variety of approaches to the pro"le of fictional story telling. Fo clear division is
ade "etween fact and fiction* "(n everyday world of fact and the fictional or even fantastic real.
6
The novel* as a narrative institution* is an outgrowth of the nors of the /nlightenent (its strict
esta"lishent of a categorical difference "(n fictional and factual).
The history of the /nglish novel is the story of eergence of a new &ind of @uite distinct fictional narrative*
which defines itself "y the process of re/ection, modification and transformation of previous fors or
practices in storytelling that are seen insufficiently attentive to a narrow event of what constitutes truth and
reality. The novel see&s to "anish or triviali4e the older and anifestly unrealistic genres of epic and
roance. The ordinary and the concretely e0periental (?everyday language) coe into the world of the
novel.
Reali( an. the n)3el ,)r/
Reali( ! the defining characteristic* which differentiates the wor& 18
th
c. novelist fro previous fiction.
N5/ The 7realis8 of the novel involves portraying all the varieties of huan e0perience and not erely
those suited to one particular literary perspective. The novel's realis does not reside in the &ind of life it
presents "ut in the way it presents it.
+efoe and Richardson were the first who did not ta&e their plots fro ythology* history* legend or
previous literature.
A(-e't( ), i-)rtan'e in the n)3el/
0 individuali4ation of its characters$
0 detailed presentation of the characters' environent$
0 the plot the use of particular e0perience as the cause of present action (cause G effect)$
0 eployent of uch ore inutely discriinated tie>scale that in previous narratives.
THE NO8EL/ 1#%$ ! 1##$
N5/ The great literary achieveent of the 18
th
century was the novel the prose story of soe length and
organi4ed cople0ity* dealing with ordinary people in failiar surroundings.
This definition serves to e0clude the -i'are(B*e n)3el* characteri4ed "y lac& of organi4ation and
cople0ity* the her)i' r)an'e* which though cople0 enough* deals with elevated persons in unfailiar
and often a"stract surroundings* and the 9i)gra-hi'al n)3el* esp. of +efoe* "ecause of it's insufficient
organi4ation.
Rea()n( ,)r the a--earan'e ), thi( -arti'*lar genre at that -arti'*lar tie/
0 increase of the reading pu"lic (largely iddle class) ? hostility towards the lies of fiction$
0 increasing leisure aong the woen fol&$
0 the whole cliate of rationalis and coon sense$
0 spread of eoirs and "iographies.
The last two ade the e0traordinary situations* the coincidences and conventional conflicts of the heroic
roances appear artificial and silly.
Richardson* for instance* did ta&e love and its conflicts as his actual thee* "ut this was not the heroic love
of the heroic roances.
!t too& writers a long tie to reali4e that ere variety of incident (as in the picares@ue novel)* if it does not
centre on soe doinant thee* "ecoes wearisoe and leaves little ipression "ehind Richardson's
rear&a"le e0aple of a single draatic conflict shaping the whole.
6
!n the opening chapters of Robinson ,rusoe +efoe points to one of the difficulties in the path or realis
that the iddle path of life was also the less eventful. .fter +efoe's auto"iographical novels* what reained
to "e descri"ed was that no great variety of events was needed to lend interest even to long stretches of
narrative$ that in fact psychological and eotional ela"oration* if treated ore convincingly could sustain
the interest even "etter than heroic roances$ and that the conflicts and tensions even of the iddle wal& of
life could provide and adira"le "asis to wor& on. 9nce these discoveries were ade the path of
developent was free and the odern novel esta"lished itself.
The ,)r ), the n)3el/ the for that a&es least deand on its readers and is ost easily assiilated.
S*9Ce't atter ! the novel treats the particular rather than the universal giving the very te0ture of life.
N5/ Hnrestricted in its length* the novel was a"le to ta&e in as uch of the cople0ities of odern life as
its thee deanded and encouraged a fuller treatent of the setting the ain figures cae to "e ore
and ore firly anchored in a wide social conte0t, seen first as e"ers of a faily* then of a wider social
structure* till finally it "ecae possi"le to envisage the as products of their environent* which is not the
case with heroic roances and picares@ue novels.
!n Richardson and Dielding's novels huan personal relationships are uch ore thoroughly e0plored than
in +efoe's wor&s.
Phil)()-hy ), the 18
th
'ent*ry an. it( i-a't )n literat*re/
Roantic poetry is "ound with philosophy "ecause it is a synthetic product of thought* eotions and
feelings.
Rationalis, dualis divides the world into two su"stances e0ternal reality v(s internal reality 3 nature
v(s ind. %oth are a"solutely autonoous.
0 e0ternal reality considered inferior* the ind iposes it's ideas on it.
0 The individual should @uestion all &nowledge thin&ing is a superior activity* no place for
intuition.
0 The aesthetics of Few classicis split of for and content preoccupation with for poetic
diction the identity of the poet is lost
0 Rationalis inii4es the role of e0perience and iediate perception everything ! ready in the
ind.
A6 L)'+e/ his philosophy is /piricis* Sensualis he directs the attention to senses* e0perience and
perceptions. The in. is seen as tabula rasa, the e0ternal reality iposes ideas on the ind through the
senses (v(s Rationalis where this is vice versa). Thus the role of individual e0perience was stressed
further.
!nfluence on literature in the novel of the 18
th
c. and early 1=c. influ0 of individual e0perience in the
novel. !n the 18
th
c. novel ain thee "ecae the relationship "(n an and environent.
#oc&e classified properties into,
0 priary ass* nu"er* distance$
0 secondary colour* sound (in Robinson ,rusoe there is no ention of colours* or sound* only
priary properties are displayed)
The agnostic eleent that the world is un&nowa"le coes fro %er&ley's philosophy agn)(ti'i( the
world in our senses is the only one.
The influence of %er&ley's s&epticis on Roantic poetry hit Shelly ,arpe %iem "sei+e the day)
1
Da3i. H*e 0 neither science* nor religion are a"le of o"-ective truth. There is no o"-ective &nowledge.
This s&epticis "rings iagination into the picture and underines the echanistic view of nature. ;is
philosophy was a ta&e>off point for Iant.
Dant ! the echanis of ac@uiring &nowledge (episteology ain concern of ost philosophers). ;e tries
to unite Rationalis and /piricis. ;e sees &nowledge as 3 a unified process of perception* intuition*
iagination and understanding (reason) reason 3 Roantic iagination. ;e distinguishes "(n
a--earan'e (the phenoenal world) and reality ! the thing itself. Rea()n 0 the superior a"ility to guess
a"out the e0istence of reality.
2ordsworth and Coleridge inde"ted to Iant. Ieats and Shelley to Iant and #oc&e.
THE RISE OF THE NO8EL/ Daniel De,)e "122$01#=1&
Such a"itious de"ates on society and huan nature ran parallel with the e0plorations of a literary for
finding new popularity with a large audience* the novel. +efoe* for e0aple* fascinated "y any intellectual
wrangling* was always willing (aid a career of unwearying activity) to pu"lish his own views on the
atter currently in @uestion* "e it econoic* etaphysical* educational* or legal. ;is lasting distinction*
though earned in other fields of writing than the disputative* is constantly underpinned "y the generous
range of his curiosity. 9nly soeone of his catholic interests could have sustained* for instance* the super"
!our !hro0 the Whole &sland of 1reat 2ritain (11A5>A1)* a vivid* county>"y>county review and cele"ration
of the state of the nation. ;e "rought the sae diversity of enthusiass into play in writing his novels. The
first of these* Robinson ,rusoe (111=)* an iediate success at hoe and on the Continent* is a uni@ue
fictional "lending of the traditions of :uritan spiritual auto"iography with an insistent scrutiny of the nature
of an as social creature and an e0traordinary a"ility to invent a sustaining odern yth. $ -ournal of the
Plague 3ear (11AA) displays enticing powers of self>pro-ection into a situation of which +efoe can only
have had e0perience through the narrations of others* and "oth (oll Flanders (11AA) and Ro4ana (11A5)
lure the reader into pu44ling relationships with narrators the degree of whose own self>awareness is
repeatedly and provocatively placed in dou"t. !he shortest Way with %issenters is a satire* advancing an
ipossi"le reedy in order to "ring out the ills of the situation. !he !rue Relation of the $pparition of one
(rs) 5eal " a factual account of a supposedly shortly visitation$ the ghost coonplace and lac&ing in any
&ind of supernatural aura.
Robinson ,rusoe " although a wor& of the iagination it was pu"lished as the true account of a an's life
written "y hiself. !t is only the first part* not the se@uels* that really captures the reader's iagination. !t is
a sort of epic of an's cultural achieveents$ a &ind of ode to the idea of self>help and progress* of all that
is "ut in the "ourgeois ideals of the tie "ut this idea is never stated in so any words* coplete
siplicity with which it is given* a"sence of self>consciousness the idea wor&s all the ore strongly.
Ro"inson represents the ercantile spirit of the "ourgeoisie of that tie. The novel is the first of a series of
fa&ed auto"iographies followed "y ,aptain #ingleton and -ournal of the Plague 3ear)
(oll Flanders, Ro4ana, and ,olonel -ac.ues come nearest to the odern novel in su"-ect* if not in for.
They not only treat ordinary people "ut also place the in failiar surroundings. Those two "elong to the
picares@ue tradition (loose* episodic structure* the hero is free of all faily ties).
N5/ The purpose of the picares@ue novel, to ta&e the hero on a sort of spiritual -ourney through different
places* classes and social strata* thus unfolding a satirical picture of society. The hero assues the role of a
coentator and catalyst* not acting* through his own personality. Hnli&e this ethod* +efoe's ethod is
ore strictly "iographical$ his changes of ilieu are uch slighter and if there is such a change* it is used
to e0hi"it the hero fro another angle than to "roaden the picture of society.
There is an attept to organi4e the aterial into ore coplicated patterns when people fro an earlier
stage of the story appear once ore.
8
+efoe's treatent of inner life of his characters, this inner life is given largely in the for of orali4ing
reflections "ut often +efoe shows considera"le su"tlety and psychological insight.
e.g. Ro0ana (she has no heart at all) and )oll (though she sin&s lower in the social scale she has a certain
fundaental honesty and &indliness), "oth are aoral.
0 a clear picture of the #ondon underworld is given "ut without any sense of social protest. +efoe
shows no sypathy. ;is purpose in descri"ing that life is partly oralistic is to show the ugliness
of vice and that it does not pay.
+efoe is a"sor"ed with concrete detail of every &ind.
Robinson Crusoe: In.i3i.*ali( an. the N)3el
0 R. Crusoe illustration of homo economicus6
0 +efoe's characters either have no faily ()oll* Jac@ue* Capt. Singleton) or leave it at an early
age never to return (Ro0ana* R. Crusoe).
Ro"inson C. leaves his faily for the classical reason of homo economicus to "etter his econoic
condition. #eaving hoe* iproving in the lot a vital feature of the individualistic pattern of life. Crusoe
is not "ound "y sentiental ties neither to his faily* not to his country. The privacy of and the econoic
advantage has tended to diinish the iportance of personal and group relationships.
N5/ Robinson ,rusoe is the first novel in the sense that it is the first fictional narrative in which an ordinary
person's daily activities are the centre of continuous literary attention. The :uritan conception of dignity
and la"our the individual daily life is of sufficient iportance to "e the proper su"-ect of literature.
N5/ Robinson ,rusoe e0plores that aspect of the novel's treatent of e0perience* which rivals the
confessional auto"iography and outdoes other literary fors in "ringing us close to the inward oral "eing
of the individual. !t achieves this closeness to the inner life "y using as foral "asis the auto"iographical
eoir (1
st
person narrative).
The ost significant aspect of Crusoe's spiritual life is his tendency to rigour oral and religious self>
e0aination. The :uritans tended to see every ite in his personal e0perience as potentially rich in oral
and spiritual eaning as does Crusoe.
N5/ +efoe's characters never thin& of glory or honour* they have their "eing in the oral plane of day>to>
day living. Ro"inson Crusoe is +efoe's ost heroic character there is nothing unusual a"out his
personality or the way he faces his strange e0periences.
The wor&s of +efoe are the supree illustration in the novel of the connection "etween the deocratic
individualis of :uritanis and the o"-ective representation of the world of everyday reality and all those
who inha"it it.
The relative iportance of religion in +efoe's novels suggests the profound seculari4ation of his outloo&*
the ost iportant cause for it "eing econoic and social progress.
+efoe's iportance in the history of the novel is directly connected with the way his narrative structure
e"odied the struggle "etween :uritanis and the tendency to seculari4ation* which was rooted in aterial
progress.
N5/ The contri"ution of :uritanis to the rise of the novel, it was through it that +efoe "rought into the
novel a treatment of the individual psychological concerns a treendous advance.
=
N5/ the island offers the fullest opportunity for Ro"inson to reali4e a"solute econoic* social and
intellectual freedo tendencies of odern civili4ation.
N5/ +efoe disregards the fact of the actual psychological effects of solitude, Ro"inson turns his forsa&en
estate into a triuph. Through hi +efoe shows that isolation can "e ade the arduous prelude to the fuller
reali4ation of every individual's potentialis. Robinson ,rusoe presents the oentary iage of the
ultiate conse@uences of a"solute individualis.
Robinson ,rusoe is perhaps not a novel in the usual sense* "ecause it deals so little with personal
relationships. %ut the tradition of the novel should "egin with a wor& that annihilated the relationship of the
traditional social order and then drew attitude to the opportunity and need of "uilding up a networ& of
personal relationships on a new and conscious pattern. The ters of the pro"le of the novel and of odern
thought were esta"lished when the old order of oral and social relationships was shipwrec&ed* with
Robinson ,rusoe, "y the rising tide of individualis.
Robinson ,rusoe is not -ust a travel story* "ut also* in intention at least* a sincere attept to use fiction to
the purposes of religion and orality. Crusoe's story deonstrates how God's :rovidence saves an outcast
who has sinned against the divine will* "y leaving his faily and forgetting his religious training (out of a
7secret burning hest of ambition for great things8) Ro"inson is a successful sinner.
+efoe tends to identify hiself with his protagonists ost fully with R. Crusoe his own life* too* had
"een one of solitary and heroic achieveent against great odds.
Robinson ,rusoe is one of the great yths of odern civili4ation. The story cele"rates 2estern
civili4ation's aterial triuph and the strength of its rational will to con@uer the environent. The novel is
too little concerned with personal relationships and has too restricted an eotional scope.
+ifferent interpretations of Robinson ,rusoe as,
0 an allegory of +efoe's own life$
0 illustration of homo economicus and the rise of econoic individualis$
0 adventure story, suspense* individual resourcefulness* threatening disasters* eventual triuph.
N5/ Ro"inson is not initially driven to leave /ngland "y econoic iperatives (!an 2alt) "ut "y a
reali4ation of a deep restlessness of sprit. !n "rea&ing his father's will Crusoe coits an act of original sin
the first step towards loveliness "ut also towards self>reali4ation. +efoe's God rewards the challenger* not
the stay>at>hoe.
Ro"inson recreates on the island the social world which he had re-ected as insufficient (tools* clothes* even
oney). 2hen Driday appears the start of Crusoe's patriarchal colony and the reali4ation of a drea of
epire. 2hen Driday's father and a Spanish sailor are rescued fro the canni"als* Ro"inson "ecoes
responsi"le for a society which unites a"solute power with a"solute freedo of conscience and religion as
opposed to +efoe's own society.
There are two se@uels to Robinson ,rusoe, Farther $dventures of Robinson ,rusoe and #erious
Reflections.
De,)e a( n)3eli(t/ Moll Flanders
(oll Flanders " a characteristic product of odern individual she owes it to herself to achieve the highest
econoic and social rewards.
N5/ ;er cries (li&e Ro"inson's travels) are rooted in the dynaics of econoic individualis )oll is
essentially different fro the protagonists of the picares@ue novel. +efoe presents his whores* pirates* and
1<
highwayen etc. as ordinary people who are noral products of their environent* victis of
circustances. There is coplete sypathy and identification.
The essence of +efoe's fictional world is that its pain and its pleasure are as solid as those of the real world.
.cceptance of the ais of econoic individualis a new attitude to society and its laws$ the individual's
orientation to life is deterined not "y his acceptance of the positive standards of the counity* "ut "y his
own personal ais.
!n +efoe's writing there are inconsistencies in atter of detail* lac& of a coherent initial plan. +efoe's
voca"ulary is that of the 7artisan and countryan8.
The siple and positive @ualities of +efoe's prose e"ody the new values of the scientific and rational
outloo& of late 11
th
century. +efoe's prose is very close to 7vulgar dialect8. Than&s to his early years as a
-ournalist is the verisiilitude of his novels and his reada"ility.
N5/ +efoe's novels landar&s in the history of fiction "ecause they are the first considera"le narratives
to e"ody all the eleents of foral realis (particular characters* particular e0perience* particular tie
and place G personal use of language).
The degree of continuity "ased on the relationships "etween the heroine* her other* half>"rother* hus"and
and child* gives (oll Flanders a degree of structural coherence siilar to that in Ro4ana. !n neither of the
novels* however* does +efoe show any clear intention of "inding up his plot with any sense of
copleteness or finality inconclusive endings) The plot of (oll Flanders is closer to authentic "iography
that to sei>fictional rogue "iography.
(oll Flanders is a novel of character* "ut +efoe odes not so uch portray her character as assues its
reality in every action. )oll shares with ost of +efoe's characters any of characteristic traits that are
usually regarded as iddle class, o"sessed with gentility and &eeping up appearances* she is in her heart a
renter* interested in oney* her ost positive @ualities restless* aoral* strenuous individualis (3
Ro"inson Crusoe).
.nother thing coon in +efoe's novels is the tran(iti)n ,r) (entient t) a'ti)nEEE
N5/ The novel is considered esta"lished (it was Richardson who too& those further steps) only when,
0 realistic narrative is organi4ed into a plot$
0 focus on character and personal relationships as essential eleents on the total structure (not erely
as eleents for furthering the verisiilitude of the action)$
0 the a"ove related to a controlling oral intuition and thee.
(oll Flanders (v(s R),)) is richer in range of feeling$
0 full of +efoe's "est written episodes +efoe's force is in the "rilliantly written episodes
(iediate* draatic and precise)$
0 )oll is perhaps +efoe's ost successful character$
0 the thee is not a fight against nature "ut the individual struggle against society (soething ore
typical of the novel)$
0 the plot* though ra"ling and confused* is "ased on a pattern of personal relationships which is
finally rounded out with a degree of unity "y the restoration of )oll to her hus"and and child$
0 (oll Flanders has ore conscious craftsanship than R),) and its orientation to the social world
"rings it uch closer to the novel.
)oll is "orn in the Fewgate prison* 1A years a whore* arried 6 ties (once to her "rother)* 1A years a
thief* 8 years a felon in Kirginia* at last rich* honest and penitent.
11
N5/ The dilea forced "y all of +efoe's criinal "iographies, 7ne'e((ity8 > fro the choice of starvation
or crie* self>preservation deands the latter. %ut none of +efoe's criinals retires fro crie* though at
soe point they have ceased to "e in a state of necessity. 7Rea()n8 the survival ethic has "een
transfored into professional s&ill* the ac@uisition of wealth and social position.
N5/ +efoe never -ustified prostitution as a social necessity* "ut the novel suggests that )oll operates in a
world entirely defined "y aterialis and that the functioning of a oral conscience is afforda"le only "y
those who have a full stoach and a roof over their heads. +efoe is interested in the econoic and oral
dilea of woen in conteporary society. (oll Flanders poses several @uestions,
0 the relationship "etween character and otive$
0 the relationship "etween "ody and spirit$
0 the relationship "etween society and individual.
Ro4ana " i-r)3i(ati)n ), an e1ternal@ ()'ially ')n.iti)ne. )rality *-)n an. inner (el,0;r)*ght an.
rig)r)*(ly ,eini(t -er(-e'ti3e n the B*e(ti)n( ), -er()nal i.entity6
Ro0ana &nows herself "etter than any other of +efoe's characters. The prospect of rearrying offers her a
rare freedo fro such "ondage. She only offers a se0ual contract for financial satisfaction and is always
se0ually passive. Ro0ana's views on arriage 3 feale eancipation. She has risen fro the dreaded state
of poverty "y her own efforts "ut at the cost of social and psychological alleviation.
N5/ /0tree individualis and proud econoic feinis are to "e cut down "y huan iperatives which
can "e concealed for a tie "ut never fully denied, Ro0ana's Feesis is personified "y her daughter
Ro0ana has con@uered the pu"lic world of se0 and trade "ut she is to "e rac&ed "y filial clais on her (the
daughter is seared for the identity of her other).
N5/ Hnli&e the other of +efoe's novels* in Ro4ana the narrating character is left in a state of guilt. The
novel ends without the coonplace repentance and prosperity thee a 3i(i)n ), a ')ntin*)*( -ri3ate
hell6
N5/ The lure of upward social o"ility ! irresisti"le for +efoe's heroines. !t is the source of that tension
"etween a dynaic individualis and a static social hierarchy. )oll's and Ro0ana's independence is at
odds with conventional feale roles (virgin* other* whore). They refuse to "e arginal or repressed in a
hierarchical* patriarchal society.
Ro4ana is +efoe's ost careful study of the tension "etween feale individualis circuscri"ed "y a
patriarchal social syste. Ro4ana allowed the radical individualis to transcend the sin>repentance>
forgiveness pattern of (oll Flanders) +efoe shows the psychological turoil in an individual whose vast
social a"ition has led to the urder of her daughter and the severing of all iportant huan ties.
Captain Singleton 9:;<=) is +efoe's second novel. The protagonist's retrospective auto"iography descri"es
a state of guilt founded not only on filial diso"edience (3 R.C.)* "ut on life of crie 7a state of 9riginal
2ic&edness8.
Singleton has no faily connections. ;e is the classic e0aple* -ust li&e )oll* of the aoral individual who
accuulates great wealth at the price of spiritual and huan desolation.
The second half of the "oo& deals with Singleton's adventures as a pirate deepens the cycle of orally
challenged ac@uisition of wealth. +efoe reinforces the platitude that the love of oney is the root of all
evils.
Colonel Jacque 9:;<<):

0 +efoe's sense of society as a syste of disguises$
1A
0 . first>person* retrospective auto"iography the ethod of narration$
0 The urge towards upward social o"ility (as in (oll Flanders and Ro4ana)$
0 #i&e )oll and Ro0ana* Jac@ue involves 7necessity8 "oth to account for and e0cuse his cries$
0 Repentance utterly unconvincing.
N5/ !n the preface +efoe at least recogni4es the distinction of fiction and truth and declines to adopt his
usual techni@ue of stressing the transparency of the narrative process.
#ed into a criinal life as a child* Jac@ue survives in an aoral state and "ecoes an e0pert thief. #ater on
he is transported to Kirginia Jac@ue's Few 2orld regeneration as plantation owner prosperity "rings
with it a retrospective guilt at past cries (3 )oll). Then J. returns to /ngland* arries (not successfully)
then "ecoes soldier in Drance where he is soon prooted as lieutenant and conse@uently as colonel. .fter
a series of events he falls prisoner of war in !taly* arries again* returns to /ngland. %ut a retired and
private life is insuffera"le for hi* so he chooses to return to Kirginia.
De,)e a( an inn)3at)r ), ,i'ti)nal ,)r/
+efoe's discovery of a particular way of writing prose fiction and his e0ploration of a variety of fors. ;e
devised certain techni@ue fro already e0isting traditions.
Robinson ,rusoe " internali>ati)n ), e1-erien'e6 .ccounts of en cast on unpopulated islands were
hardly new* "ut in esta"lishing a "alance "etween aterial that easily lent itself to allegory and a world of
real e0perience* +efoe gave the novel a peculiar identity that it has retained ever since. R) ,) is a wor& of
prose fiction that lends itself to ultilayer analysis, the variety of structures, auto"iography* traveler's
narrative* do>it>yourself utopia* political and econoic allegory* fuse into a unity under the realist surface of
the narrative "ut provide a te0t that offers several possi"le readership.
+efoe argued that this wor& was 7true8* a for of history* real and factually accurate while "eing 7allegory8
and a 7satire8 a type of fiction that functioned on "oth a realistic and a sy"olic level. .lso* this is a
&ind a fiction @uite different fro the roance 3 n)3eli>ati)n ), e1-erien'e "5a+htin&6
,aptain #ingleton " sets the scene for an iaginary .frica with fertile plains and vast deserts (the tre&
across .frica) and although +efoe did not e0ploit his scenery as fully as .nn Radcliff did (Gothic novel)*
he does render an iaginary .frican landscape in a convincing anner. +efoe developed the possi"ility of
7adventure novel8.
(oll Flanders " +efoe's treatent of a woan's attept to survive and thrive under difficult conditions
shoved his a"ility to transfor previous fors (picares@ue novel) into fictions that were uni@ue. +efoe did
not a"andon his ethod of creative archetypal figures "ut he succeeded in deepening the character of the
protagonist the split "etween the e0perienced feale narrator and the young )oll.
$ -ournal of the Plague 3ear " ay "e regarded as one of the earliest historical novels.
,olonel -ac.ue " fits the foral pattern outlined "y %a&htin as the n)3el ), eergen'e* a su"genre with
the 2ildungsroman)
Ro4ana " +efoe's negative capa"ility the draatist's a"ility to suspend -udgent a"out his characters and
their e0periences.
De,)eF( n)3el(/
N5/ 2hat disappeared after Ro4ana was the interest in creating cople0 characters and seeing the world
through their eyes. The purely fictive ipulse in +efoe to create independent characters who tell their
stories as eanations of their character and e0periences ended with Ro4ana. Representation of characters
1B
e0periencing a vividly reali4ed world (interaction "etween characters and their environent) this gives
the power of +efoe's narratives.
;is own preferences see to have "een for ore factual and e0pository fors. +efoe infored his fiction
with so uch of his own personality and outloo& that it "ecae soething @uite different fro anything
that the world had seen "efore.
N5/ ;is narratives were a for of prose narrative which if not @uite the novel in our sense* was in any
respects uch closer to the novel than what had "een written "efore in /nglish literature.
De,)e a( n)3eli(t/
+efoe's audience was the plain iddle>class fol&* asserting their cultural and political independence at that
tie. +efoe's ost iportant innovation in fiction was his unprecedented ')-lete narrati3e reali(
springing out of his long practice as a -ournalist.
+efoe never aditted that he wrote fiction. !n the preface of Robinson ,rusoe he states that he 7"elieves the
thing to "e a -ust history of fact* neither is there in it any appearance of fiction. This clai to historical truth
if false the story and the character are largely +efoe's invention. %ut the narrative is presented with so
uch circustantial detail tat the reader does not thin& of the "oo& as fiction. The ain ai of R.C. is to
&eep as close as possi"le to the ind of the narrator.
+efoe's style he concentrates his attention on the priary @ualities of o"-ects (#oc&e). ;e uses siple
language* his sentences are long* ra"ling* without a strong pause within the and yet* this gives the
narrative soe authenticity. +efoe's natural prose style is closer to the vernacular of the ordinary person
than any previous writer's style adira"ly adapted to the language of Ro"inson* )oll etc.
+efoe's novels coonly "egin with an act of self>assertion* of re"ellion* or e0clusion deterinistic
necessity in ost of the cases (R.C.* ).D.). There is no foral division (chapters) in +efoe's novels. They
are far ore copletely lac&ing in eaningful patterns "ut the central organi4ing principle is the life of an
individual presented in retrospect and in 1
st
person.
N5/ +efoe insists (esp. in the preface of ,olonel -ac.ue) that his literary fiction is literal truth* a self>
effacing transparent ediu. ;e sees to su"-ect art to an overriding didactic function "ut his novels also
have aesthetic energies that ste fro an e0traordinary fictional iagination.
N5/ +efoe's prose fiction sprang fro his e0perients in other literary fors, the poleic paphlet* the
"iography* the history* the travel>"oo&. ;is novels include eleents of all those fors.
N5/ +efoe opened up new paths for the novel "oth "y shifting a part of the ephasis away fro ere
events and on to the character of his hero and their effect on hi and "y ta&ing the whole life of that hero as
a pattern of events wor&ing towards soe sort of goal* "e it only old age or repentance.
THE RISE OF THE NO8EL/ A)nathan S;i,t
Jonathan Swift was "orn on Fove"er B<* 1661 in +u"lin* !reland* the son of :rotestant .nglo>!rish
parents, his ancestors had "een Royalists* and all his life he would "e a ;igh>Churchan. ;is father* also
Jonathan* died a few onths "efore he was "orn* upon which his other* ."igail* returned to /ngland*
leaving her son "ehind* in the care of relatives. !n 161B* at the age of si0* Swift "egan his education at
Iil&enny Graar School* which was* at the tie* the "est in !reland. %etween 168A and 1686 he attended*
and graduated fro* Trinity College in +u"lin* though he was not* apparently* an e0eplary student.
!n 1688 2illia of 9range invaded /ngland* initiating the Glorious Revolution, with +u"lin in political
turoil* Trinity College was closed* and an a"itious Swift too& the opportunity to go to /ngland* where
15
he hoped to gain preferent in the .nglican Church. !n /ngland* in 168=* he "ecae secretary to Sir
2illia Teple* a diploat and an of letters* at )oor :ar& in Surrey. There Swift read e0tensively in his
patronLs li"rary* and et /sther Johnson* who would "ecoe his MStella*M and it was there* too* that he
"egan to suffer fro )eniereLs +isease* a distur"ance of the inner ear which produces nausea and vertigo*
and which was little understood in SwiftLs day. !n 16=<* at the advice of his doctors* Swift returned to
!reland* "ut the following year he was "ac& with Teple in /ngland. ;e visited 90ford in 16=1, in 16=A*
with TepleLs assistance* he received an ). .. degree fro that Hniversity* and pu"lished his first poe,
on reading it* John +ryden* a distant relation* is said to have rear&ed MCousin Swift* you will never "e a
poet.M
!n 16=5* still an0ious to advance hiself within the Church of /ngland* he left TepleLs household and
returned to !reland to ta&e holy orders. !n 16=6 he was ordained as a priest in the Church of !reland* the
!rish "ranch of the .nglican Church* and the following year he returned to Teple and )oor :ar&.
%etween 16=6 and 16== Swift coposed ost of his first great wor&* A Tale ), a T*9* a prose satire on the
religious e0trees represented "y Roan Catholicis and Calvinis* and in 16=1 he wrote The 5attle ),
the 5))+(* a satire defending TepleLs conservative "ut "esieged position in the conteporary literary
controversy as to whether the wor&s of the M.ncientsM >> the great authors of classical anti@uity >> were to "e
preferred to those of the M)oderns.M !n 16== Teple died* and Swift travelled to !reland as chaplain and
secretary to the /arl of %er&eley.
!n 11<< he was instituted Kicar of #aracor >> provided* that is* with what was &nown as a M#ivingM >> and
given a pre"end in St. :atric&Ls Cathedral* +u"lin. These appointents were a "itter disappointent for a
an who had longed to reain in /ngland. !n 11<1 Swift was awarded a +. +. fro +u"lin Hniversity* and
pu"lished his first political paphlet* supporting the 2higs against the Tories. 11<5 saw the anonyous
pu"lication of A Tale ), a T*9* The 5attle ), the 5))+(@ and The Me'hani'al O-erati)n ), the S-irit.
!n 11<1 Swift was sent to #ondon as eissary of !rish clergy see&ing reission of ta0 on !rish clerical
incoes. ;is re@uests were re-ected* however* "y the 2hig governent and "y Nueen .nne* who suspected
hi of "eing irreligious. 2hile in #ondon he et /sther Kanhorigh* who would "ecoe his MKanessa.M
+uring the ne0t few years he went "ac& and forth "etween !reland and /ngland* where he was involved>>
largely as an o"server rather than a participant>>in the highest /nglish political circles.
!n 11<8 Swift et .ddison and Steele* and pu"lished his 5i'+er(ta,, Pa-er(* satirical attac&s upon an
astrologer* John :artridge* and a series of ironical paphlets on church @uestions* including An Arg*ent
Again(t A9)li(hing Chri(tianity.
!n 111<* which saw the pu"lication of M. +escription of a City Shower*M Swift* disgusted with their alliance
with the +issenters* fell out with 2higs* allied hiself with the Tories* and "ecae the editor of the Tory
newspaper The E1ainer. %etween 111< and 111B he also wrote the faous series of letters to /sther
Johnson which would eventually "e pu"lished as The Journal to Stella. !n 111B Swift was installed as +ean
of St. :atric&Ls Cathedral in +u"lin >> a prootion which was* again* a disappointent.
The Scri"lerus Clu"* whose e"ers included Swift* :ope* Congreve* Gay* and .r"uthnot* was founded in
1115. !n the sae year* uch ore unhappily for Swift* Nueen .nne died* and George ! too& the throne.
2ith his accession the Tories fell fro power* and SwiftLs hopes for preferent in /ngland cae to an end,
he returned to !reland Mto die*M as he says* Mli&e a poisoned rat in a hole.M !n 1116 Swift ay or ay not
have arried /sther Johnson. . period of literary silence and personal depression ensued* "ut "eginning in
1118* he "ro&e the silence* and "egan to pu"lish a series of powerful tracts on !rish pro"les.
!n 11A< he "egan wor& upon 7*lli3erG( Tra3el(* intended* as he says in a letter to :ope* Mto ve0 the world*
not to divert it.M 11A5>A6 saw the pu"lication of The Dra-ier Letter(* which gained Swift enorous
popularity in !reland* and the copletion of GulliverLs Travels. The progressive dar&ness of the latter wor&
is an indication of the e0tent to which his isanthropic tendencies "ecae ore and ore ar&edly
16
anifest* had ta&en greater and greater hold upon his ind. !n 11A6 he visited /ngland once again* and
stayed with :ope at Twic&enha, in the sae year 7*lli3erG( Tra3el( was pu"lished.
SwiftLs final trip to /ngland too& place in 11A1. %etween 11A1 and 11B6 pu"lication of five volues of
Swift>:ope Mi('ellanie(. MStellaM died in 11A8. !n the following year . )odest :roposal was pu"lished.
11B1 saw the pu"lication of SwiftLs ghastly M. %eautiful Ooung Fyph Going to %ed.M
%y 11B6* when a collected edition of his 2or&s was pu"lished in +u"lin* his )eniereLs +isease "ecae
ore acute* resulting in periods of di44iness and nausea, at the sae tie* preaturely* his eory was
"eginning to deteriorate. +uring 11B8 he slipped gradually into senility* and finally suffered a paralytic
stro&e, in 115A guardians were officially appointed to care for his affairs.
Swift died on 9cto"er 1=* 1156.
Religi)*( 9elie,(/
Swift was a clergyan* a e"er of the Church of !reland* the !rish "ranch of the .nglican Church$ and as
such he was a ilitant defender of his church (and his own career prospects) in the face of the threats to its
continued e0istence posed "y Roan Catholicis at hoe in !reland (which was overwhelingly Catholic)
and in /ngland* where Swift and his peers saw the Catholics (and* at the other religious and political
e0tree* the +issenters) as threatening not only the .nglican Church "ut the /nglish Constitution.
Swift was ostensi"ly a conservative "y nature, he instinctively sought sta"ility in religion as in politics* "ut
sta"ility* which insured personal freedos. !ndeed* so far as he was concerned* religion* orality* and
politics were insepara"le, he consistently attac&ed theological attepts (even within .nglicanis itself) to
define and liit orthodo0y>>attepts which* he felt* led ultiately to anarchic dissent. The divisive
tendencies of )an&ind had* he "elieved* over the centuries* prooted the general decay of Christianity
itself* which had lost its original clarity* siplicity* and coherence. The Truth had "een ishandled*
corrupted* "y en who had "ehaved li&e Oahoos. ;e adhered to the tenets of the .nglican Church "ecause
he had "een "rought up to respect the* "ecause the Church of !reland was the church of his social class*
and "ecause his own a"itions were involved in its success* "ut also "ecause he saw the Church as a force
for rationality and oderation$ as occupying a perilous iddle ground "etween the opposing adherents of
Roe and Geneva.
Hnderlying all of SwiftLs religious concerns* underlying his apparent conservatis* which was really a for
of radicalis* was his "elief that in )an God had created an anial which was not inherently rational "ut
only capa"le* on occasion* of "ehaving reasona"ly, only* as he put it* rationis capa4. !t is our tendency to
disappoint* in this respect* that he rages against, his wor&s e"ody his attepts to aintain order and
reason in a world which tended toward chaos and disorder* and he concerned hiself ore with the
concrete social* political* and oral aspects of huan nature than with the a"stractions of philosophy*
theology* and etaphysics.
5))+(/
$ !ale of a !ub " a satire directed against religious "igotry and intolerance. !t contains any vivid and
well>o"served pictures of daily life that anticipate the ethod of the novel. %ut it is also full of high>spirited
e0aggeration.
$ -ournal to #tella " a series of letters that give a picture of #ondon and of the political aneuvers "ehind
the scene. The letters were never intended for pu"lication. The letters show that the "rutal for of Swift's
satire was the outer shell of an e0treely tender soul. . tone of intiate affection* large part of the is
written in a pure "a"y tal&.
16
$ (odest Proposal " the ost devastating of his tracts. !n it arguent gives place to the "itterest satire.
Fot Swift's isauthority the savagery of the attac& is the reaction of a sensitive ind to the lethargy and
inhuanity a"out hi.
1ulliver>s !ravels " this is Swift's greatest satire,
0 Swift's irony$ his iagination$ the atter>of>fact way in which the details of a situation* ipossi"le
in itself are wor&ed out.
N5/ %oth Swift and +efoe had a gift for realistic detail.
The ethod of satire here is belittlement. !n part !* the court of the #illiputians is very siilar to that of
/ngland the sae factions* intrigues* -ealousness* a"itions$ the sae ridiculous cereonies* the sae
pretensions. Gulliver is aused to find that the tiny creatures ta&e theselves so seriously. !n the ne0t
"oo&* part !!* Gulliver is placed aong the gigantic %ro"oliguagians the process is reversed, Gulliver feels
very sall over the ridiculousness of his own pretensions. %oo& !!! is a satire against scientists and scholars
the people of #aputa are a"sor"ed in a"stract speculations and do not have the words for 7iagination8*
7fancy8 and 7invention8 this is an open attac& against Rationalis. !n the final "oo&* the wise no"le
horses are the lords of creation* while an (the yahoos) is least of the field. The Oahoos again reflect the
situation in /ngland.
. part of the satire, Gulliver li&es to descri"e the institutions of his country to his new asters* all the tie
eeting with isapprehension fro a people living in Htopian siplicity (they cannot even conceive the
idea of a lie). These creatures &now neither disease* a"ition nor rapacity and cannot iagine the inhuan
and ioral situation* which sees so noral to Gulliver. 2hen Gulliver returns to his hoe country*
longing for the ideal land of the fourth "oo&* an&ind has already "ecoe hateful to hi.
N5/ 9ne of the greatest achieveents of Swift is that he ade prose a eans of literary e0pression* a
vehicle for iaginative writing.
Gullivers Travels an. the ')ntra't( ), ,i'ti)n
1ulliver>s !ravels is an attac& on the political and cultural institutions* as well as intellectual life of the 18
th
century %ritain.
Swift distrusted everything represented in the early novel of the century, its individualistic psychology* its
"rief for class o"ility* its ad-usta"le ethics and orality etc.
This was another way of reading the narrative as a parody of the middling fictional sub/ect as well not
Gulliver's rendition of his civili4ation* "ut rather Gulliver as a representative of his civili4ation. Gulliver
acts "oth as a critic of this civili4ation and as the priary product on display of this civili4ation. Dor
instance* the first things the #illiputians discover in Gulliver's poc&ets are a watch* a silver coin and gold
time and money 3 the odern /nglishan's credo.
Gulliver is a odern figure at the "eginning of his voyage. !n the land of the giants Gulliver* the
a0ialist* "ecoes Gulliver the inialist. %y the end of his travels he is not even sure what it is to "e
huan.
Gulliver is the e0pert whose &nowledge turns out to "e liited. ;e is an /nglish surgeon who rises to "e
ship's captain* he's well educated* proud of his national origins and well infored "oth professionally and
politically and yet he has liitations.
!n each of the four "oo&s* Gulliver is faced with the e0traordinary. The first two voyages deal with physical
disproportion* the third with largely mental imbalance* and the fourth replays thees of physical and
ental disorder and deands a rendering of Gulliver's preconceptions. Swift's isanthropy is "ased on a
"eauty love for individual as distinguished fro a general hatred for 7that anial called an8.
11
Gullivers Travels a( a (atire/
The "oo& is an e0aple of a (ennipean satire a genre traced "ac& to the .nti@uity. The )ennipean
satire's features are,
0 holds an eleent of adventure and fantasy$ the character goes to the s&ies and descends
underground$
0 the pilgriage tests the truth of an ideology$
0 eleent of social utopia* iages of perfect societies dreas* voyages* non>e0istent worlds v(s
our own there is a tension "etween the$ the rhetorical instruent to e0plore that tension is ir)ny
to refer to one thing "ut ean another.
The satire in 1ulliver>s !ravels is "ased on the concept of difference, spatial, mental and moral opposition)
!n "oo& !K there is focused on a temporal difference " in ters of tie(evolution* the perspective of an
"eing superior to the anials is reversed.
!he 2attle of the 2oos " an e0aple of etaphysical art of arguing through iages$ the @uarrel "etween
the %ee and the Spider serves as the e"odient of the dispute "(n .ncients and )oderns.
THE EN7LISH NO8EL/ Sa*el Ri'har.()n "128$ ! 1#21&
The enthusias propted "y +efoeLs "est novels deonstrated the growing readership for innovative prose
narrative. Sauel Richardson* a prosperous #ondon printer* was the ne0t a-or author to respond to the
challenge. ;is Pamela: or, 5irtue Rewarded (115<* with a less happy se@uel in 1151)* using (li&e all
RichardsonLs novels) the epistolary for* tells a story of an eployerLs attepted seduction of a young
servant woan* her su"se@uent victii4ation* and her eventual reward in virtuous arriage with the
penitent e0ploiter. !ts oral tone is self>consciously rigorous and proved highly controversial. !ts ain
strength lies in the resourceful* soeties coically vivid iagining of the oent>"y>oent
fluctuations of the heroineLs consciousness as she faces her ordeal. :aela herself is the sole letter writer*
and the technical liitations are strongly felt* though RichardsonLs ingenuity wor&s hard to itigate the.
%ut :aelaLs fran& spea&ing a"out the a"uses of asculine and gentry power sounds the s&eptical note
ore radically developed in RichardsonLs asterpiece* ,larissa: or, the 'istory of a 3oung Lady (1151>58)*
which has a -ust clai to "eing considered the ost rever"erant and oving tragic fiction in the /nglish
novel tradition. ,larissa uses ultiple narrators and develops a profoundly suggestive interplay of opposed
voices. .t its centre is the ta0ing soul de"ate and eventually ortal co"at "etween the aggressive*
"rilliantly iprovisatorial li"ertine #ovelace and the "eleaguered Clarissa* altreated and a"andoned "y her
faily "ut a"iding sternly loyal to her own inner sense of pro"ity. The tragic consuation that grows
fro this involves an astonishingly ruthless testing of the psychological natures of the two leading
characters. .fter such intensities* RichardsonLs final novel* !he 'istory of #ir ,harles 1randison (116B>
65)* is perhaps inevita"ly a less a"itious* cooler wor&* "ut its "lending of serious oral discussion and a
coic ending ensured it an influence on his successors* especially Jane .usten.
.fter +efoe's fictitious auto"iographies* the ne0t great advance cae again fro the lower iddle class,
Sauel Richardson. ;e had "een as&ed to copile a anual of letter>writing for the use of the sei>literate
and he had the "right idea that the saple letters could "e used to convey a oral essage and the result
was the writing and pu"lishing of Pamela 9:;?:). The purpose "ehind this is the sae oral didacticis as
with +efoe "ut didacticis "uilt on e)ti)n(6
Pamela " the plot is siple* li&e draa a young educated servant girl attracts the son of the house$ he
wants to a&e her his istress* "ut she re-ects hi* so he tries different eans of persuasion "ut when he
sees that nothing else will ove her* he arries her 3 :aela's virtue is rewarded.
The for, the story is told at very great length and with an iense aount of detail* in epistolary for
(letters)* written "y :aela to her parents* with occasional coents fro the parents in their replies.
18
N5/ The fiction is &ept up that the author is pu"lishing a collection of letters that have fallen into his hands
"y chance. %ut as no one in real life could write such lengthy screeds as :aela's* no one can "e ta&en in
"y this deception (as they can with +efoe's) the "oo& clearly presents itself as fiction.
N5/ Richardson's attepts to otivate the writing (e.g. how coe that a servant girl can write* how she
anages to procure pen and paper while iprisoned* etc.) show the difficulties the first creators of the novel
la"oured under. They had the feeling that in this unaccustoed for dealing with everyday life* the author
ust present soe sort of credentials for his &nowledge of the facts. .nd while in the old roances the
ore ipro"a"le events were retold without any e0planation how they were to "e &nown to the author*
here* where the facts were so close to life* soething was needed to underline or -ustify the realis.
Richardson's uni@ue insight into the cople0ities of the feale heart he anages to suggest very cleverly
that his heroine* without reali4ing it herself* is actually in love with her pursuer.
The lesson Richardson sees to "e teaching is the not the beauty of virtue for its own sae, but rather the
idea that it pays to be virtuous)
N5/ Richardson's contri"ution to the novel as a literary for was the focus on the doestic draa rather
than any for of prose narrative,
1. The story is "uilt round a definite conflict "etween two people and Richardson developed that
conflict with a rising tension up to a point of clia0* fro which it stic&s to its resolution
copact for. /verything is su"ordinated to the central conflict$ all the episodes are related to it.
A. .s a result of the concentration of a central conflict the cast of characters is coparatively sall.
Richardson does not try to give a whole picture of society "ut to concentrate on depths depth of
picture is lac&ing in +efoe.
B. The characters are isolated "ut it is not as in the picares@ue novel* rather in order to &eep strictly to
the "asic conflict. Though the characters are isolated* it is only a teporary isolation* and they all
have their roots soewhere with it$ )r. % has a sister* though she does not appear until the action
is over* and the eory of his other is &ept constantly "efore us the faily has entered the
novel giving it a structural sta"ility.
5. The developent of the whole through the .ial)g*e another point of contact with the draa. .
lot of 7said he8 and 7said !8 which are oitted in later novels. Though physical action plays a
coparatively sall part in the whole* there is enough of it to aintain e0citeent.
,larissa (1151>8), a greater achieveent than Pamela. This tie Richardson gave a picture of virtue
unawarded* ending in tragedy. The story is uch the sae as :aela's e0cept for the ending.
Clarissa is even a greater odel of virtue than :aela* held up "y everyone as a odel to the whole
neigh"ouhood. She coes fro a well>to>do faily$ her pursuer is a young li"ertine.
The -l)t, Clarissa's faily try to force a hateful arriage on her to save her fro the clutches of the
dreaded #ovelace. She resists that arriage ("ecause it is without love) and runs away. She has no one to
turn to e0cept #ovelace he esta"lishes her in a "rothel where she is &ept prisoner (li&e :aela). 2hen all
other easures fail* #ovelace rapes her. .fter this clia0* in the iddle of the narrative* there is nothing
left for Clarissa e0cept to die fro a "ro&en heart. Clarissa's "rother ortally wounds #ovelace in a duel.
Fo eotion is spared us for it is in the e0plication of the eotions roused "y his draatic conflicts that
Richardson's power lays. ;ere these eotional effects have "een increased "y the uch ore cople0
te0ture of the novel.
The ,)r/ the story is again told through letters "ut not only the heroine's account is given. #ovelace's
letters to a friend are given side "y side with Clarissa's to her friend. The events are descri"ed in a sort of
double perspective* seen fro the angle of each participant in turn. )oreover* we are given the answers of
the two friends with their coents and advice 3 multiple points of view. 2e are &ept oving "ac&wards
1=
and forewords in tie. . further coplication coes fro the secondary plot Clarissa's friend and the
story of her love serves as a contrast to the ain plot.
Clarissa is standing out against the cruelty and -ealousy of her relatives* fighting desperately for her oral
ideal. She has all the @ualities of a tragic heroine and the effect of the catastrophe is truly oving.
Clarissa is the first feale :rotestant in fiction. She dies a Christian death* having rediscovered the eaning
of her sufferings.
N5/ .n iportant side of Richardson's wor&, he showed that the eotions of ordinary people could "e as
oving as those of the great tragic heroes of roance. !n fact* Richardson owes not a little to the good old
roances.
#ir ,harles 1randison (116B>5), its principal shortening lies in the character of the protagonist$ its strength,
the relatively fast oveent and the occasionally successful social coedy.
This is Richardson's last novel. !t was intended as a &ind of corrective to ,larissa* in which the figure of
the li"ertine #ovelace proved too attractive to soe readers.
Grandison intended as a picture of anly perfection* held up as a odel to the upper classes to show that
a an could "e "rave and attractive without "eing a ra&e or a drun&ard. %ut Richardson was uch less
successful at portraying en than woen and his hero is a sadly unconvincing prig. For has his situation
the draatic force of his earlier novels he is placed "etween an !talian and /nglish girl* "oth hopelessly in
love with hi. There is a certain conflict, he is in love with the /nglish girl* "ut feels hiself attracted in a
way to the !talian girl* whose religion however stands on the way of arriage with hi.
The ,)r/ epistolary novel. The story is told ainly through the /nglish girl's letters (;arriet) and her
hopes and fears are vividly given.
N5/ The novel is interesting as an attept at a ore coplicated structure with its triangular plot and the
use of "ac& histories and ysteries one is &ept in suspense over the actual relations with Cleentina.
There is the further coplication of inor plots, there is another insolent suitor for ;arriet's hand and sir
Charles's sister is at the center of another inor plot.
N5/ .n attept at ore cople0 portraiture* though it is at the e0pense of the depths and concentration of
earlier novels. The co"ination of the letter and the didactic oral intention is characteristic of
Richardson's fiction.
!t was pro"a"ly fro +efoe that Richardson inherited his grasp of realistic detail (realis ? didacticis).
%ut Richardson was uch ore interested in analy4ing feelings and ental processes than +efoe. Pamela
the e0actness and thoroughness with which :aela's fluctuating feelings and states of ind are descri"ed*
this psychological insight is shown into the reactions of the frightened and fascinated victi.
Richardson's influence, in /ngland (J. .usten* G. /liot)* Drance and Gerany. ;is wor&s fundaentally
altered and shaped the course of the developent of fiction.
The novels of Richardson and Dielding for what Richardson hiself called a new species of writing. They
do not so uch re-ect the auto"iographical odel esta"lished "y +efoe and finally supersede it.
N5/ Pamela was not the first epistolary novel "ut it pro"ed the ost influential. Hnli&e the pu"lic and
retrospectively instructive eoirs of +efoe's heroes* :aela's letters are private and iediate and their
reader "ecoes soething of an intruder into her confessions.
Richardson is a pioneer in odern fiction and in finding ways of giving an ipression that a character is
developing and changing fro within. .ll of Richardson's personages are what the 1=
th
century caller
characters " they persuade us that they have inner depths and irrationalities.
A<
The revolutionary image of Pamela, 7;ow cae ! to "e his :ropertyP8 (in her arguent with )rs Jew&es).
N5/ .fter Paradise lost this is the first great /nlightenent consideration of se0ual relations. The @uestions
are as&ed "y :aela and answered "y the other characters* which have different answers fro the heroine*
and fro each other Pamela* li&e all /nlightenent wor&s* is a body of controversies.
!n ,larissa* we have again the discussions of doestic life. Richardson returns to the a-or conflict of se0
and class, #ovelace a tie aristocrat* Clarissa "ourgeois.
N5/ The /nlightenent is attached to dialogue and epistolary forms in wor&s of arguent and persuasion.
The dialogue is an iportant vehicle of philosophy* the letter for allows for personal o"servation that is
su"-ect to change. The novel parta&es least of the /nlightenent optiis Clarissa's rape and death*
#ovelace's death. Richardson claied that his novel was of the 7!ragic @ind8 and argued against the
narrow application of poetic /ustice to wor&s of iagination.
!n ,larissa, ore cople0ly than in Pamela* Richardson created a literary structure in which narrative
ode* plot* characters and oral thee were organi4ed into a unified whole. Richardson's use of the letter
for is "etter adapted to the presentation of personal relationships in ,larissa 9the e0pression of the
characters "y writing a letter* not "y spea&ing is entirely in &eeping with the inward and su"-ective nature of
the draatic conflict) than in Pamela (only one conscience :aela's* no direct presentation of )r. %'s
point of view$ our picture of :aela is one>sided).
N5/ Hnli&e +efoe* Richardson avoided an episodic plot "y "asing his novels on a single action courtship.
F%, Hhat i( .i(tin'ti3e a9)*t Ri'har.()nF( n)3el( i( n)t the +in. )r a)*nt ), e)ti)n@ 9*t rather
the authenticity ), the -re(entati)n ), e)ti)n6 It i( the reorientation o narrative perspective
;hi'h gi3e( Ri'har.()n hi( -la'e in the tra.iti)n ), the n)3el ! thi( (*9Ce'ti3e an. in;ar.
.ire'ti)n "in ')ntra(t t) Fiel.ing&6
THE EN7LISH NO8EL/ Henry Fiel.ing "1#$# ! 1#I%&
;enry Dielding turned to novel writing after a successful period as a draatist* during which his ost
popular wor& had "een in "urles@ue fors. ;is entry into prose fiction was also in that ode. $n $pology
for the Life of (rs) #hamela $ndrews (1151)* a travesty of RichardsonLs Pamela, transfors the latterLs
heroine into a predatory fortune hunter who cold>"loodedly lures her "oo"y aster into atriony.
Dielding continued his @uarrel with Richardson in !he 'istory of the $dventures of -oseph $ndrews (115A)*
which also uses Pamela as a starting point "ut which* developing a oentu of its own* soon outgrows
any narrow parodic intent. ;is hostility to RichardsonLs se0ual ethic notwithstanding* Dielding was happy to
"uild* with a cal and siling sophistication* on the growing respect for the novel to which his antagonist
had so su"stantially contri"uted. !n -oseph $ndrews and !he 'istory of !om -ones, a Foundling (115=)
Dielding openly "rought to "ear upon his chosen for a "attery of devices fro ore traditionally reputa"le
odes (including epic poetry* painting* and the draa). This is accopanied "y a fla"oyant developent
of authorial presence. Dielding the narrator "uttonholes the reader repeatedly* airs critical and ethical
@uestions for the readerLs delectation* and ur"anely discusses the artifice upon which his fiction depends. !n
the deeply original !om -ones especially* this assists in developing a distinctive atosphere of self>
confident agnaniity and candid optiis. ;is fiction* however* can also cope with a dar&er range of
e0perience. !he Life of (r) -onathan Wild the 1reat (115B)* for instance* uses a oc&>heroic idio to
e0plore a derisive parallel "etween the criinal underworld and /nglandLs political elite* and $melia (1161)
pro"es with so"re precision iages of captivity and situations of ta0ing oral parado0.
Dor Dielding* Richardson was an e0aple of what not to do. ;is whole approach* ethod of wor& and
outloo& on life and oral draatically opposed to Richardson's,
A1
Ri'har.()n "ourgeois v(s Fiel.ing country gentry
0 "elonged to e)ti)nal ('h))l > "elonged to the rati)nali(t ('h))l
0 lit. odel draa > lit. odel Cervantes and ;oer
> "efore his first novel he was a
successful playwright
A)(e-h An.re;(/ "egan as a "urles@ue$ its connection with Pamela in the opening chapters Joseph* li&e his
sister* resists the teptations of his istress and her aid* deterined to reain true to the choice of his
heart his neigh"our Danny. !n the closing chapters :aela appears herself and o"-ects to their arriage.
The ain thee of the wor&, represents Joseph's adventures on the road fro #ondon to his hoe after he
has "een disissed "y his istress in the old tradition of a loosely episodic series of encounters owes
uch to %on Aui4ote.
N5/ the very fact that there is an opening and a close* and that Joseph has a hoe and faily awaiting hi
and that the +ulcinea of the story is not a figent "ut the pivot of the whole action gives the novel a
definite shape and unity. This unity is further stressed fro the une0pected revelation of Joseph's "irth at
the end.
The a-ority of odern novels have a clear "eginning and or end and center around a section of the hero's
life (as in Richardson's and Dielding's novels).Pamela and -oseph $ndrews* though in different ways*
esta"lished the ain lines of the novel.
The l)3e thee (the thee is not new what is new is the adaptation of the thee to the new for) also
characteristic to the a-ority of odern novels,
0 Ri'har.()n ! the love interest was drawn chiefly fro heroic roance and fro tragedy$
0 Fiel.ing ! the struggles of two young people to coe together in the face of opposition are in the
tradition of coedy$
2hat attracted Dielding was not Richardson's sentiental stress on pathos and eotions* "ut the richness
and variety of life* not the depths of the soul* "ut the soul's surface* as it appears to others. ;e did not
appropriate Richardson's letter form which is ideal for self>pro"ing and coent* "ut not for o"-ective
narrative. Oet* Dielding's narrative (B
rd
person narrative) ethod is not e0actly o"-ective in the ordinary
sense of the word* for he is all the tie acting as author* coentator and guide.
9n the other hand* it is not su"-ective either > his characters are so uch outside "ias* so vividly conceived
as still o"serva"le* that he feels the need to e0plain the hiself and give his opinion a"out the ight
"e tered *ltra0)9Ce'ti3ity6 This ethod distances the characters fro the readers* diinishes the
authenticity.
-oseph $ndrews " a large cast of characters (larger than in Pamela* though the later is uch longer) who
are uch ore sharply individuali4ed than in Pamela.
Paela A)(e-h an. Fanny
> though we &now everything a"out her eotions*
she does not stand out clearly as an individual$
> presented in such variety of situations and in
relation to so any other characters that we &now
the "etter than we &now :aela$
N5/ Hnli&e Dielding* Richardson places hiself in the position of his characters* e0periencing their
eotions hiself (*9Ce'ti3ity6
2e &now :aela fro the inside* whereas we &now Joseph ainly fro the outside Dielding's e1ternal
eth). offers the clearer portrait.
AA
;owever* a young and ideali4ed pair offers little scope for portraiture and Joseph and his love affair serve
rather to "ring us into a touch with a fellory of ore sharply drawn characters, one of the is :arson
.das* Joseph's copanion on the road. The relations "etween the two characters are li&e those "etween
+on Nui0ote (.das) and Sancho :an4a (Joseph). They eet with a variety of people on the road and there
is a great deal of (atire alost all the people they eet have their wea&nesses and are help up to ridicule,
the vices that Dielding holds up to scorn are heartle((ne((@ (el,i(hne((@ gree.6 :arson .das* though he
carries the story's oral essage* is also "eing ade ridiculous he is ridiculously wrong in inor atters*
"ut so devastatingly right in what is really iportant.
!n the preface to -oseph $ndrews Dielding announces that he is presenting a literary type that is new for
/ngland the comic epic in prose, as he called it. !t is fro %on Aui4ote (ridiculing chivalric roances)
that he too& the ideas of burles.uing the heroic style (of heroic roances).
2hat Dielding owned to Richardson is the idea of ta&ing for his central figures a footan and a servant girl*
putting their love to trials and the trials it undergoes is the center of his coposition and descri"ing a short
period of their lives. Oet all this is crossed with the traditions of coedy.
!om -ones (115=): the general structure is the sae as of -oseph $ndrews introductory section* dealing
with To's youth* up to the point when he is turned out of his hoe for "ad conduct* a final section in
which all the characters are "rought together again in #ondon and ysteries are revealed. The iddle part
consists of adventures on the road.
The copanion of To on the road is :artridge* a figure again odeled on Sancho :an4a.
To is not a odel of virtue li&e Joseph* "ut a young an of strong anial instincts* which are the chief
cause of all the scrapes he fells into* yet he copensates for everything "y his goodness of heart* generosity
and fran&ness co"ination "(n anial spirits and &indliness.
The genre is reali(ti' ')e.y ! (-oseph $ndrews a farce)
.t the center of the novel is the otif of the young hot>head learning fro his e0perience and tested in the
school of life.
Chara'ter .ra;ing,
0 To, in spite of the co"ination of anial instincts and &indliness* he is not a cople0 character
this co"ination leads to no internal conflicts (e0cept for Sophia)* yet* he is copletely convincing
and vivid.
0 Fot all the characters are e@ually successful, any of the inor figures are odeled on the old
huour tradition of a single oddity of character. %ut there are plenty of ore successful portraits to
"elieve the.
The t)ne of the novel is )-tii(ti' and the structure conveys a sense of sta"ility.
$melia " Dielding's last novel. !t lac&s the overflowing richness and vitality of the coic prose epics.
Character drawing, its hero* a sort of To Jones grown older lac&s the attraction of Dielding's ro"ust hero.
.elia's portrait is overBsentimental.
N5/ Though Richardson and Dielding represent two ain types of organi4ation of the novel* no novel is
only the one or the other* i.e. draatic (centering on a conflict "(n two individuals ,larissa) or epic
(drawing a wider picture of society !om -ones).
N5/ Dielding's art is one that reflects on itself (awareness of "eing a "oo& reflection on the "usiness of
writing and reading it). Dielding's narrative processes and iage of hiself as a narrator. ;e ade the selfB
conscious novel accessi"le to the /nglish tradition (with the pu"lication of -oseph $ndrews). ;e
AB
aintained that his for* comic epic in prose, will allow "oth for truth to nature and for the e0posure of
affectation and vanity to ridicule.
Dielding derives his ethod fro the tradition of mocBheroic whose essential @uality is that the narrator
preserves his separate status as draatic presenter and anipulates his aterial for coical effect. %ut
-oseph $ndrews is not a mocBepic "ut a comic epic.
The Preface of -oseph $ndrews: he states that he's attepting soething 7novel8* he defines his genre
comic epic in prose "oth soething new and soething old. The coic approach (ridiculing) iplies
closeness and failiarity.
Tragi' has reached through the ancients
Dielding's comic epic in prose C E-i'
C)i' ! lost* failed to reach us
0 e-i' ! poetic genre dealing with the pu"lic deeds of historical or legendary persons engaged in a
collective rather than individual enterprise.
!n !om -ones the epic @uality of the action consists in its preservation of a sweeping panoraa of a whole
society (as offered to Richardson's picture of a very sall social group).
.ccording to the edieval theory of action the epic was characteri4ed "y two eleents, 3eri(iilit*.e and
the ar3el)*(. Dielding prescri"es a greater ephasis on verisiilitude for the new genre than that in
current epic or roance.
Dielding transposed the characteristic features of the epic into a coic conte0t in two ways, "y his use of
surprise and his introduction of oc&>heroic "attles. 2hat he eans "y the surprising is the series of
coincidences. Dielding valued such devices* "ecause they ade it possi"le to weave the whole narrative into
a neat and entertaining foral structure. ;is stress on the coic was related to the place of the ridiculous in
art, the true ridiculous has a source in huan affectation proceeding fro vanity or hypocrisy.
So* Dielding too& the wide range of character* incident* diction and reference fro the epic and reodeled
this aterial according to the 7coic8 rather than the 7serious8 principles. The epic and the coic are
further interpolated within a single te0t.
!n the preface of -oseph $ndrews Dielding distinguishes "etween his wor& and the "urles@ue (a distortion of
reality) and ephasi4es the need for 7e0actest copying8 of reality. Though his wor& contains oc&>heroic
features* it is not a pure parody.
QQQ 5*rle(B*e J deviation fro nature v(s ')e.y J iitation of nature
!n his coic epic in prose* "urles@ue is allowed only in its diction.
Dielding, 7& describe not man, but manners, not an individual but a species.8 Joseph chaste v(s To
en-oying freedo ("oth of the are ty-e(* representatives of their se0).
N5/ Richardson provides a odel for the psychological novelists to follow. Dielding on the other hand
provides a odel for the social and coic writers.
THE EN7LISH NO8EL/ La;ren'e Sterne "1#1= ! 1#28&
.n e0perient of a radical and seinal &ind is #aurence SterneLs !ristram #handy (116=>61)* which*
drawing on a tradition of learned wit fro /rasus and Ra"elais to %urton and Swift* provides a "rilliant
coic criti@ue of the progress of the /nglish novel to date. The focus of attention is shifted fro the
fortunes of the hero hiself to the nature of his faily* environent* and heredity* and dealings within that
A5
faily offer repeated iages of huan unrelatedness and disconnection. Tristra* the narrator* is isolated
in his own privacy and dou"ts how uch* if anything* he can &now certainly even a"out hiself. Sterne is
e0plicit a"out the influence of #oc&ean psychology on his writing* and the "oo&* fascinated with the fictive
energies of the iagination* is filled with characters reinventing or ythologi4ing the conditions of their
own lives. !t also draws 4estful stiulus fro a concern with the liitations of language* "oth ver"al and
visual* and teases an intricate draa out of TristraLs iagining of* and playing to* the readerLs li&ely
responses. SterneLs #entimental -ourney !hrough France and &taly (1168) siilarly defies conventional
e0pectations of what a travel "oo& ight "e. .n apparently rando collection of scattered e0periences* it
ingles affecting vignettes with episodes in a heartier* coic ode* "ut coherence of iagination is
secured "y the delicate insistence with which Sterne ponders how the ipulses of sentiental and erotic
feeling are psychologically interdependent.

!ristram #handy = volues* scarcely any plot* the only sort of structural line that can "e followed is the
line of free associations " a ethod that was attepted again in the days of Kirginia 2olf and :roust.
Sterne had "een attracted to #oc&e's !heory of association and "y the wor& of ;artley* the founder of the
associationist school of psychology,
0 free association is the deterining factor in the conversations each spea&er lives in his own world
and is constantly pulling the conversation in his own direction so that every"ody tends to spea& at
cross>purposes* only half attending to what the others ay say$
0 every "it of action is developed with the inutest account of gesture and facial e0pression*
e0ceeding even Richardson's detailed stage directions* and suggesting not erely and eotional*
"ut a coplicated play of worrying eotions (usually a"out ost trivial events)$
0 each character is given a few "asic features or actions stereotypical reactions in certain situation
(adopted fro coedy)* "ut the circustances in which they occur are so well contrasted that they
coe to suggest a whole world of varied eotions.
The centre of the structure, the contrast "etween the two "rothers )r. Shandy (Tristra's father) and Hncle
To"y "oth of the cran&s in their own way* "oth of the sensitive souls* each full of adiration for the
other's good @ualities.
0 )r. Shandy encyclopedic type* reading ridiculous theories an attac& against rationalism.
0 Hncle To"y war>hearted* sensi"le* and childish " reflects the superiority of eotions over
reason.
!ristram #handy is an e0tree anifestation of the cult of the heart "rings out the "eauty of siple
&indliness.
Sterne's ethod, (*9Ce'ti3e 1
st
person narrative$ interest in the ind* in response. #i&e Dielding* he &eeps
hiself constantly "efore the reader's ind as presenter and coentator of the action* though he gives
hiself an assued character the supposed auto"iographer. Hnli&e Dielding* however* who is the
interpreter of o"-ective events* Sterne's interest lies chiefly in his own reaction to events it is his own ind
that is the real su"-ect of the "oo&.
Synta1 ! his sentence structure is as inconscopcentral as that of the "oo& itself$ a lot of parenthetical and
long sentences are used.
P*n't*ati)n ! his favourite punctuation ar&, the dash denoting a sudden change of direction$ also too
any e0claation ar&s.
Styli(ti' le3el 0 constant shifting fro the collo@uial language to the utost level of #atinity.
8)'a9*lary #atiniss* artificial forations are present. .s a product of the .ge of Reason* and age that
"elieve in rules and canons* Sterne's conscious straining after the "i4arre* his deli"erate e0hi"ition of
idiosyncrasy sees an alost ipossi"le anachronis.
A6
$ #entimental -ourney through France and &taly can hardly "e called a novel. There is even less plot than in
!ristram #handy. !t is a highly su"-ective sort of travel "oo&* and yet it does not give an account of towns
and landscape* "ut and account of personal incidents and eotions a su"-ective -ourney of eotional
responses. .nd if Sterne did not e0actly create the cult of sensibility* he did uch to a&e it fashiona"le.
Sterne an. Reali(/ Sterne found a way of reconciling Richardson's realis of presentation with
Dielding's realis of assessent and showed that there was no necessary antagonis "etween their
respective internal and e0ternal approaches to characters.
Sterne's narrative ode gives very careful attitude to all the various aspects of foral realis, to the
participation of tie* place and person$ to a natural and life>li&e se@uence of action$ to the creation of a
literary style which gives the ost e0act ver"al and rhythical e@uivalent possi"le of the o"-ect descri"ed.
!ristram #handy an unprecedented e0perient with for. !ts organi4ation lies in the consciousness of the
narrator. The "oo& suggests that all interpretation is relative* and the very act of reading it draws the reader
into a participation in the creative process. Sterne achieved the unifying of the two streas in the tradition
of the /nglish novel, rationalism 9Fielding) and emotionalism 9Richardson))
!ristram #handy "rea&s all the rules* even of language and punctuation and deli"erately e0cludes all
suggestions of a fact, despite of the considera"le length of the "oo& no"ody gets anywhere* nothing
happens* and the hero does not succeed even in getting hiself "orn until half way through. Just when we
thin& a story is a"out to develop* Sterne introduces an incredi"le digression a long piece of #atin (with
translation on the opposite page)* a page with a ar"led design on it* a collection of aptery0es anything to
o"struct or ystify. ;is characters are patches of sentientality* often saved* -ust in true* fro "ecoing
aw&ish "y an ironical stro&e 3 a grotes@ue episode.
SterneF( e1-erient ;ith the n)3el/
+efoe* Richardson* and Dielding, after the the tradition of the novel "ent itself to su"versive
e0perientation.
Rationalis (18
th
century) new fors of huour* e0pression of eotion* e0tension of the liits of
iagination* awareness of language this is the first age of e0perient in fiction,
0 upsets notions of tie* place* action$
0 e0tends the "oundaries of what was not possi"le in the novel$
0 no longer -ust the o"servatory of huan action with oral overtones* "ut a diversity of the genre
fro now on.
Chara'teri(ti'( ), SterneF( ;riting/ originality and wit,
0 the originator of what cae to "e the A<
th
century stream of consciousness$
0 his novel parodies the conventions of the novel as a genre at that tie* "y pointing out the
a"surdities and ipossi"ilities of relating tie* space* reality and relationships in a linear for$
0 the plot of the novel in the early 18
th
century followed the natural order of things, "eginning* iddle
and end. %ut Sterne was the first to eploy there 7not necessarily in that order8 T. Shandy is
conceived at the "eginning of the novel* "orn in vol. !!!* "ut the story ends four years "efore his
"irth.
0 Sterne's faous use of graphological effect Tristra* as narrator* displays the difficulty of
&eeping to one single line in his story$
0 2hat passes in a an's own ind, Sterne's ain concern. ;e owes a great deal to #oc&e's Essay
on 'uman *nderstanding B it has influenced any .ugustans* "ut Sterne was the first to ta&e
#oc&e's ideas on the relativity of time, on random association, on the nature of sensation* and
thus he "ro&e the newly set rules of novel writing and escaped fro the oral restrictions of the
genre$
A6
0 .ssociation of language and thought, unli&e Dielding or Richardson* Sterne's narrator uses no
fictional interediary device ("etween hiself and the reader) and fre@uently addresses the reader
directly. ;is thoughts ra"le forwards* "ac&wards* and sideways where they will no
consistency or coherence.
THE ROMANTIC PERIOD "1#K8 ! 18=<&
+uring the 18
th
century Rationalis practically doinated the scene* especially in the opening years* "ut
there was also the inevita"le reaction against it* which "ro&e through a various ways and at various points,
sentientalis* Spenserian revival* the feeling for nature* edievalis* orientalis* the cult of the "allad.
. last* in the final years of the century this reaction swells into a conscious oveent of opposition* which
goes "y the nae of Roanticis.
The /nglish Roanticis is not a hoogenous oveent. !t falls into two distinct periods,
0 1
(t
generati)n ! the La+e -)et(, 2ordsworth* Coleridge closely associated* they have any
iportant views in coon.
0 <
n.
generati)n > %yron* Shelley* Ieats differed in their views on poetry* though they had uch
in coon.
N5/ !n poetry at least* Roanticis did not end with the Roantic era* "ut continued throughout the
Kictorian age (Tennyson* )orris* Swin"urne* %rowning) down to the neo>Georgian sy"olis.
The concept of Roanticis, due to this diversity aong the roantic poets it is "est to "e regarded as a
co"ination of eleents* "ut no roanticist would co"ine all the eleents in hiself,
16 Intr)3er(i)n ! the roantic poets are preoccupied with their personal eotions* as opposed to the
general e0troversion of the preceding age$
<6 %elief that poetry a"ove all is in(-irati)n* and writes itself. .s 2ordsworth puts it, 7$ll good
poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings)8 Ieats, 7&f poetry comes not as naturally
as the leaves to the tree, it had better not come at all)8$
=6 ReCe'ti)n of all rules and canons* all theories of iitation or of genres the poet was a"solutely
free to evolve his own for$
%6 N) (en(e ), ,)r > typical for ost of the roantics. They -ust eander on as the spirit oves
the no Roanticis in architecture$)
I6 :Flight ,r) realityL ! this is not an escape* "ut rather a routine* search for "eauty. Still* this is not
a very happy ter. The ters 7roantic8 and 7realistic8 are not necessarily utually e0clusive* e.g.
2ordsworth treated his pictures of nature and of village with coplete fidelity to 7realis8. 2hat
the roantics actually did was to avoid the "rutality of everyday life* to reveal 7the charm of
novelty to things of everyday8B 2ordsworth's prograe. The roantics were see&ing to enrich
e0perience not to escape fro it li&e the later decadents* and to preserve values that were iportant.
!t was not so uch a flight fro reality as rather a passionate search for "eauty. .ll of the were
inspired "y an ideal of "eauty of soe &ind everyone had his vision* heterogeneity due to
introversion. The roantics re-ected reality* li&e the writers at any other tie* "ut the for of their
re-ection was roantic. Their avoidance of the thees of everyday was a protest against this reality.
26 The '*lt ), 5ea*ty
#6 The Rena('en'e ), H)n.er ! 7wonder8 in a "road sense, wonder at the "eauties that surround us*
wonder at the cople0ities of life* a sense of ystery in things* the wonder of a child at a world
whose wor&ings he can only guess* etc.
86 Panthei( ("elief that God is in everything and everything is God$ worship of all gods) ! appears
partly as a revolt against religious dogatis and a step towards atheis. !t is also an e0pression of
the awe "efore the "eauty and the arvels of the world. +uring the 18
th
c. +eis (natural religion)
is a sort of pantheis "ut the eotional pantheis of the roantics is soewhat different.
A1
K6 Lang*age ), (*gge(ti)n( an. hal,0t)ne( as opposed to the .ugustan ideal that relied on sy"ols
and analogies* on associations and ultiple eanings* not the a"straction of poetic diction "ut the
7real language8 of en (3 %en Johnson).
N5/ The sense of wonder (1* 8) is* at "otto* the recognition that the 18
th
century type of rationalis as a
philosophical syste was dead (to the roanticists the world was ununderstanda"le). The philosophy of
;ue, for he feels this eant a new world of dily perceived* not fully e0perienced ideas* a world of
relations too tenuous to "e e0pressed directly* for which a new language was needed. 2e only feel
deterination and connection "etween things no o"-ective ground. !ntuition is accepted as a valua"le
instruent of &nowledge. Roanticis coes as a reaction against the spirit of rationalis and echanical
aterialis and against the rules and canons it had enforced.
N5/ Fone of the roantics tered theselves 7roantics8 or "elonging to a roantic school of poetry
(only %yron was called 7roantic8).
The Drench Revolution, only the 1
st
generation had a firsthand e0perience of it. 2ith the Reign of Terror
they "ecae disillusioned with the ideas of the Revolution. The Revolution had an e0ultating and li"erating
effect "ut even without it Roanticis would have to coe. The ain influence is the idea of liberty,
e.uality, brotherhood and it is iportant for the roantics as an indication of the political* social and
poetical freedo.
R)anti'i( ae(theti'(/
Roanticis aesthetics is "ound with roantic philosophy that is idealistic. The latter a&es the distinction
"etween i.eal (the place where a"solute categories e0ist) v(s real (the split coes fro :lato)$
0 the cult of art and "eauty the ephasis on the coes fro the distinction ideal v(s real art is
a"out the ideal.
0 %elief in creativity art is a creative* not a ietic activity. The creativity of God is a odel
the artist should ai at getting closest to the creativity of God God's creativity 3 the poet's
creativity. Creativity for all the roantics is the fusion of the idea and the image* the real is a
vehicle of the ideal$ the real has no real e0istence everything is sy"olic.
0 /phasis on the spirit of Fature, 2ordsworth says that there is eaning "ehind natural o"-ects$
"eauty of Fature e0presses the spirit of Fature. Fature is a living organis* an organic process.
0 :oetry and truth, poetry reveals the highest truth* &nowledge of the highest order. Thus it produces
delight. .s Shelley puts it, 7$ poem is the very image of truth)8
0 The status of the poet, the highest in the hierarchy "ecause of the e0traordinary role of poetry. The
poet is li&e a god he has enorous capacity* he is li&e a prophet* a seer* a teacher* a creator of the
divine order. The roantic poet creates a parallel world "y eans of iagination* the poet is the
ediator "etween the two worlds (Coleridge new sy"olis).
0 :oetry and "eauty, the transforing power of poetry it consists in a&ing things a part of a larger
unity* whatever is ugly is transfored into ideal* also oral iproveent is included.
0 The concept of iagination, the poet creates through iagination it is a divine a"ility. :oetry is
the product of iagination. !t a&es possi"le the fusion of ideal and real.
C)leri.ge, iaginati)n 3M( ,an'y. !agination 3 superior power of unity* a"ility to create iages$ it
parta&es of the creative activity of God. Dancy is inferior to iagination* it involves association of ideas.
The roantics elevated the concept of spontaneity and inspiration. They thought that it is e0actly
iagination* which ade the poets.
Deat(, he accepted the wor&s of iagination as having a relation to ultiate reality through the light* which
they shed on it. Through the iagination he sought an a"solute reality revealed through his appreciation of
"eauty through the senses. Sight* touch and sell evo&e iagination.
A8
18
th
'6 ')n'e-t(6/
1. an as a social anial$
A. ephasis on those features that en have in coon$
B. literature 3 counicational activity$
5. nature 3 soething to "e seen and iitated.
R)anti'i(/
1. the roantics saw an eventually in his solitary state* self>counicating$
A. ephasis on the special @ualities of each individual's ind. The roantics e0alted the atypical*
even when "i4arre$
B. literature 3 a solitary activity* or at the ost the counication "etween two sypathetic souls$
5. nature 3 soething to "e &nown* an inspiration for the poets. !t is in counication with nature*
the natural universe that an can e0ercise the ost valua"le of faculties iagination$
6. the roantics re-ected the correctness and perspicuity of the .ugustans (poetic diction).
2ith Roanticis the portrayal of the general and universal in huan nature gave way to the e0pression of
individual and personal feelings.
A*g*(tan age R)anti'i(
0 reason* order* intellect* the head$
0 the child to "ecoe adult* to "e civili4ed$
0 focus on society$
0 logic and rational$
0 poetic diction
0 feelings* intuition* the heart$
0 the child its pro0iity to God which
will "e corrupted "y civili4ation$
0 focus on the poet's soul and on the life
of the iagination$
0 ystical and supernatural$
0 7the language of en8 cele"rated the
uni@ueness and freedo of the
individual.
ROMANTIC POETRY/ Hillia H)r.(;)rth "1##$ ! 18I$&
2ordsworth spends nearly all his life in the #a&e +istrict the forative influence of the landscape.
!he Prelude, or 1rowth of a Poet>s (ind is written in "oo&. !t is an auto"iographical poe dealing with his
stay in Drance* his trip to !taly* the .lps. !t is less an e0position of the real growth of his ind than an
illustration of the philosophy he had evolved hiself.
0 2ordsworth loo&ed at hiself as a prophet* a an singled out "y Fature for her purposes to "e her
poet$
0 Dor hi Fature does not wor& alone* an hiself possesses the power of augenting what he ta&es
fro outside through his feelings. This power is strongest in the little child and life itself tends to
destroy it. ;e was happy in retaining this childish faculty of creative eotion or iagination* well
into his later youth$
0 The union with Fature a sense of union with a living soul$
N5/ The very essence of 2ordsworth's roanticis was the "rea& with rationalis, truth lies in a power of
spea&ing through nature and not to "e apprehended through the rational faculties* what is apprehended "y
the senses dissolves into the pure eotion. 2hat is iportant is not the o"-ective picture of nature* "ut the
su"-ective refle0ion of nature in the ind (perception) this is 2ordsworth's ain thee. This is also the
path of Transcendentalis and idealis ta&en since Iant. Dor i.eali(ti' -hil)()-hy the )9Ce't is only the
perception of an idea* e0isting in the ind of the (*9Ce't Roantic poetry stresses the su"-ect or the
percipient ideas which 2ordsworth had "een i"i"ing fro Coleridge.
A=
Phaedins B the :latonic idea of the pre>e0istence of the soul (used also "y Coleridge) our soul e0ists
soewhere "efore it too& a huan for. The true hoe of the soul is the world of ideas and at the sight of
"eauty the soul is reinded of its forer state and it flies up towards the spiritual hoe. This eory of a
forer state is strongest in childhood.
!he Preface to Lyrical 2allads " although 2ordsworth was the poet of Fature* he was interested in
an&ind as well. ;e wished to study huan nature and "elieved that it is "est to "e studied aong siple
country fol&.
N5/ 2ordsworth's theory of the power of Fature to heal* encourage and inspire, the soul is superior to the
senses. !t is the sense of an ecstasy* while in counion with Fature that transcends the senses* the losing
of oneself in nature till one pierces through the conception of the powers that lin& everything together* and
that is the source of 2ordsworth's inspiration. Dor hi* poetry is 7emotion recollected in tran.uillity8
this eant the sin&ing in oneself in eory until this ystic state of ecstasy is achieved.
Dor 2ordsworth iaginati)n was the reali4ation of the ystic lin&s connecting and vivifying reality.
2ordsworth wrote only one poe in which he feels soething of a passion (a poe a"out the love of a
an and a woan)* yet* the ain thee of the poe is despair and isery of the young an* prevented "y
his aristocratic father fro arrying the girl he loves. There is not a hint of se0uality or any for of "odily
passion.
%escriptive #etches and !he Evening Wal are volues of poetry$ yet* there is nothing roantic a"out
these early poes. They are written in the heroic couplets and in the poetic diction of the age$ there is the
su"-ect is still the o"-ective description of nature.
Lines ,omposed above !intern $bbey > in this poe 2ordsworth copares his state of ind five years
"efore* when he first saw the valley and now* when the soul of nature is pushing through his own and they
are "oth part of a ystic harony.
Dro now on* the ain thee of his poetry was to "e the inspiration and power to "e a"sor"ed through
counion with nature. ;owever* in spite of the e0traordinary power he ascri"es to Fature* he had reali4ed
that an has a power superior to Fature and he odifies what he a"sor"s.
+uring their copanionship as neigh"ours* 2ordsworth and Coleridge decided to pu"lish together a "oo&
of verse illustrating their poetical theories, Lyrical ballads) .s Coleridge e0plained in his 2iographia
Literaria there are two sorts of poes in it,
1. concerning persons and incidents supernatural* or at least roantic written "y Coleridge$
A. su"-ects* characters and incidents fro ordinary life written "y 2ordsworth wanted to give the
char of novelty to things of everyday life and to direct the ind's attention to the loveliness and
wonder of the world "efore us. ;is interest is not only in rustic life* uneducated people and
children* "ut also even in idiots (the "i4arre).
!n the Preface of the Lyrical 2allads what is iportant for 2ordsworth is the 7colouring of the
imagination, whereby ordinary things should be presented to the mind in unusual aspect8. Coleridge
succeeded in persuading 2ordsworth that it was his ission to produce a philosophical epic 1
st
part of
the Prelude and part of the E4cursion) /ven ore iportant for 2ordsworth is the revolt against poetic
diction of the 18
th
century which he ade the central thee of the Preface)
The Lyrical 2allads consist of,
0 oral tales (anecdotes)$
0 two lyrical onologues, 'er eyes are wild and !he ,omplaint of an &ndian Woman "oth
e0ploring the thee of the deserted woan$
0 true "allads (pure lyrics) show 2ordsworth at his "est.
B<
!he E4cursion (181A) disappointed Coleridge "ecause it was very different fro the wor& they had planned
together.
.fter 2ordsworth settled as a arried an* he lost his old enthusias* his revolutionary ardour and "ecae
an opponent of all change and refor. %ut 2ordsworth never a"andoned his huanitarian ideas.
2ordsworth's greatest fault as a poet was that having adopted the role of a teacher (what he considered a
poet's ission to "e) he was so uch preoccupied with hiself that he could not lose hiself in the
personalities he descri"ed (e.g. his villagers) and he always reained as the interpreter "etween the reader
and his su"-ect. That could "e regarded as a refle0ion of the general su"-ectivis, the su"-ect is not his own
eotion* "ut is outside hiself.
(ichael " is a lyrical poetry fro !he Prelude. 2ordsworth assues the role of the noter of ipressions
and the feelings they inspire. ;is power of o"servation is e0traordinary &een* he would notice the ost
vivid details. ;ere 2ordsworth a"andoned the affected siplicity of the "allad style.
Dight Piece is less vivid* less poetic. 2ordsworth does not descri"e the scene and let it wor& on the
iagination freely. ;e had to introduce hiself and tell the effect it produced on hi* not as an eotion
given directly* "ut rather as a "ald stateent.
N5/ 2ordsworth's greatest wor&s are those* in which nature is given not in the for of a description* clear
cut and detailed* "ut as a ood or eotion* where the ood is inherent ! the description* not
superiposed with a didactic or reflective coentary.
/.g., *pon Westminster 2ridge and Evening on ,alais 2each are sonnets. 2ordsworth used a sy"olic
iagery that suggest far ore than it states* "ased not on a single pair of clearly ar&ed @ualities* "ut a
cople0 of vaguely sensed affinities* the recovery of which* after the clear* rational* sharply defined siiles
of the classicists* was one of the greatest achieveents of the roantics. Roantic poetry is the -)etry ),
(*gge(ti)n6
2ordsworth wrote in two distinct styles the elevated )iltonic style ("lan& verse)of his ore
philosophical poetry* influenced ore "y the spirit of )iltonic verse rather than "y its anneris (e0c,
inversion* dou"le negation* the use of verse paragraphs* long* rolling periods with heavy en-a"ents) and
the "allad style (e.g. %affodils)
!he Prelude:
0 philosophical passages that illustrate 2ordsworth's ideas$
0 descriptive passages, illustrate the interaction "etween the feelings of the "eholder and the scene*
which is the "asis of the roantic attitude towards nature* the colouring of the iagination that was
central to 2ordsworth's theories$
0 aong these there are passages that are ore ipressionistic and less so.
!t is not his philosophical poetry* though his philosophy is Roantic* that the roanticis is ost apparent*
"ut rather in the siplicity of the "allad for here 2ordsworth freely follows his ood and the roantic
spirit sei4ed hold of hi ost firly. (yet* soeties this siplicity of the "allad style "etrayed hi).
2hen 2ordsworth is erely giving e0pression* without trying to teach* to what he feels he would fall into
that indistinct longing for soething unattaina"le and indefina"le that is the soul of Roanticis.
Oet in these "allads* the structure clarity and strictness of for* is not truly roantic. There is the clear
sharpness and correctness of the etre (18
th
c). This is not the true "allad any ore which is very fle0i"le
and varied (for that fle0i"ility we ust turn to Coleridge). .s a whole* the structure is architectonic its
one does not associate with the roantics.
B1
Sy9)l(/
Roanticis, "rea& with reason* the enthroning of intuition and eotional thought that perceives things
ine0pressi"le in concrete for this forced the poets towards the creation of sy"ols to represent what
they could not e0press* for sy"olis is the inevita"le result of eotional thought and ysticis* "e it
religious ysticis of the )iddle ages or nature ysticis of the Roantics).
2ordsworth was already on the path that was to lead to the e0tree sy"olis of Shelley and Ieats.
Hltiately* his 7iaginative iagery8 was sy"olical it is in such points that he shows hiself ost
clearly a roantic. Oet* these points do not play an overwheling role in his poetry as a whole.
2ordsworth was not ar&edly roantic in his ethods. ;is use of language reained* in spite of any
typically roantic ipulses* closer to the pre>roantics. Oet* his attac& on poetic diction was to "e of
iense iportance for the roantic oveent.
2ordsworth's early poetry is radical not only "ecause it e"odies revolutionary theory* "ut also "ecause it
attepts to shift a literary perspective away fro what he saw as false sophistication (18
th
c).
2ordsworth's insistence on the orally educative influence of nature and the interrelationship of a love of
huanity and a love of nature pervades !he Prelude. The poe had any revisions. +escriptive "lan&
verse. The poe periodically pauses to ediate* to assess and to a&e conclusions.
Poems in !wo 5olumes* 18<1, &mmortality Ede, & wandered lonely as a cloud* etc* suggest the e0tent to
which 2ordsworth's poetry had oved "eyond the ere loco>description of his predecessors. ;is
representation of nature is dynaic* panoraic* not selective and shot through with the creative energy of
God.
2ordsworth's preference for hu"le and rustic life followed naturally fro the conception associated with
Rousseau's nae. The lesson Fature has to teach us is how to feel* how to "ecoe a renovated spirit* free
fro crippling self>consciousness.
The concept of the noble savage the iplication that en are "etter when closer to their natural state*
uncorrupted "y the artificialities of civili4ation.
2ordsworth is far fro eschewing figurative language* "ut his verse is characteri4ed "y directness of
stateent and coparative freedo fro iagery. ;e e0tracts fro the given situation its own intrinsic
eotional content choosing the language which records ost literally and e0actly the @uality of the
e0perience descri"ed.
!n !intern $bbey nature is to e"race not only in anial* "ut in huan nature as well (in the li&e of 18
th
c
tradition).
The dichotoy "et the ental and the aterial world* which philosophers had increasingly ta&en for
granted since 11
th
c. was to 2ordsworth wholly antipathic and he fre@uently in his verse attepts a general
stateent of the "asis of their unity.
2ordsworth declared -)etry t) 9e the (-)ntane)*( )3er,l); ), -);er,*l ,eeling(? it ta+e( it( )rigin
,r) e)ti)n re')lle'te. in tranB*ility one of the crucial definitions in Roanticis.
Fr) !reace to "yrical #allads:
0 The principal o"-ect which ! proposed to yself in these poes was to a&e the incidents of
coon life interesting "y tracing in the the priary laws of our nature, chiefly as far as regards
the anner in which we associate ideas in a state of e0citeent$
BA
0 Rfor all good poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings* "ut though this "e true*
poes to which only value can "e attached were never produced on any variety of su"-ects "ut "y a
an who "eing possessed of ore than usual organic sensi"ility had also thought long and deeply.
0 9ne other circustance which distinguishes the poes fro the popular poetry of the day is that
the feeling therein developed gives iportance to the action and situation and not the action and the
situation to the feeling.
0 /0cept in a very few instances* the reader of those poes will find no personification of a"stract
ideasRand little of poetic diction. This ! have done for the reason to "ring y language near to the
language of en.
H)r.(;)rthF( 3i(i)n ), nat*re, the iportance of the ipact and influence of nature on the huan ind.
2ordsworth cele"rates the spirit of an living in harony with his natural environent (intrinsic life) and
away fro the corrupt city.
E((en'e in H)r.(;)rthF( -)etry, not the description of nature "ut the developent of the inner ind
which records this world of nature is iportant. 2ordsworth "elieved that only nature could give the
oents of insight and understanding to see into the heart of things.
The 'hil., the single source of wisdo and truth* it is the sy"ol of all that is holy and good* the father of
an.
H)r.(;)rthF( -hil)()-hy ), Nat*re/ he preaches organic fusion "etween an and nature where"y they
for a higher third. Fature for hi was a spiritual hoe (anti>civili4ation attitude). 2ith hi there are two
aspects of unity of nature, (en(*al and tran('en.ental/
1. Fatural "eauty "uilds inner harony* creates love* peace and understanding. This unity is on a
sensual and eotional level (in the line of Rousseau).
A. This unity is "eyond the senses and eotions (trans>sensual). !t see&s fusion with the invisi"le and
transcendental. !nternally* it leads to harony* e0ternally to alienation.
Dor 2ordsworth there are B types of unity with nature,
1. !n childhood, the fusion with Fature is so coplete that he feels it not as e0ternal part fro hi
(!intern $bbey). ;e was una"le to thin& of e0ternal things as having e0ternal e0istence. The "rea&
of natural law achieves unity on a transcendental plain.
A. in the line of #oc&e's e0ternal e0perience (natural piety), natural "eauty "rings a savage>li&e delight
and love. This is the state of adoration of Fature ((y 'eart Leaps up). Fature is seen not only as a
"enevolent power* "ut also as supree reality in the Prelude, 7 Rfostered ali&e "y "eauty and "y
fear8.
B. !n aturity, nature is seen as a sy"ol of a"solute reality after internal conteplation. !n !he
Prelude this reality is called 7!he wisdom and the spirit of the universe8. Hnity with nature is now
a @uasi>religious act with aesthetic and oral effect in it. The tool for this unity is e)ry it
transutes reality and helps unity with nature. The (en(*al .elight i( the (tarting -)int ,)r a
(*9lie ,*(i)n ;ith the (-irit ), Nat*re6
ROMANTIC POETRY/ Sa*el Tayl)r C)leri.ge "1#<< ! 18=%&
H)r.(;)rth C)leri.ge
0 concerned with the ordinary* everyday
world$
0 interested n the ipact of eory on
the present$
0 a sense of the ysterious* supernatural and
e0traordinary world$
BB
0 wanted to e0plore everyday su"-ects
and give the a supernatural colouring.
0 wanted to give the supernatural a feeling of
everyday reality$
Coleridge's "oyhood was the opposite of 2.'s instead of open>air life filled with country sports and
lovely scenery* it was spent in the city where reading and daydreaing were the only alleviations
Coleridge's elancholic teperaent.
.fter leaving school in 11=1* for hi it ay "e said that roanticis was the flight fro reality. ;is B great
poes see to represent Roanticis in its present for and appear as a flight into a drea world of
fantasy. Coleridge was an ardent adherent of the Drench Revolution.
The friendship "(n C. and 2., up to it Coleridge had "een trying to "e a philosophical poet >EReligious
(usings pure thought turned into verse in the anner of the 18
th
century) There is little iaginative strain
in these early wor&s.
N5/ .fter 11=1* 2ordsworth's poetry sees li&e the proper continuation of Coleridge's early wor&* while
Coleridge hiself struc& out in a new direction. The sae happened with poetic diction, Coleridge had
recogni4ed its hollowness long "efore 2. who had not sha&en it off entirely (%escriptive #etches) and
even returned to it once in his later life.
Coleridge inspired 2ordsworth with his pantheistic philosophy "ut e@ually his own pantheis received a
fresh colouring through 2ordsworth's cult of nature.
%efore the Lyrical 2allads,
0 !he Eolian 'arp " written in the first year of his arriage. The descriptive passages are not the
generali4ed sense of other 18
th
c poes* "ut a personal and specific sense* with personal e0perience
placed in the centre. The use of "lan& verse for a coparatively short and lyrical piece is a defiance
of the theory of genre Coleridge is free to follow his ra"ling thoughts* without adapting the
to any fi0ed schee.
0 Frost at (idnight " written during the 1
st
year of his friendship with 2. The scene is even ore
intiate* the eotion is uch deeper* the wild scenery of 2.'s la&es is present. Gradually
Coleridge has learned to o"serve the details of the natural scene.
!n any respects* a part of Coleridge's poetry coincides in its thees* ideas and ais with that of 2. The
difference is in the usic of the verse ease and harony Coleridge is one of the finest usicians of
/nglish poetry. ;e creates not onotonous "ut e0traordinary varied verse.
.nother difference with 2. is that Coleridge gives his pictures with greater iediacy* as though writing at
the very oent of e0perience* while 2.'s poetry is 7eotion recollected in tran@uility8.
The "ody of Coleridge's wor& intensely personal and intiate* yet* his B great poes are in their su"-ects
entirely ipersonal and unrelated to any direct e0perience, tales of wonder and figents of pure
iagination. 7The incidents and agents were to "e* in part at least* supernatural$ and the e0cellence aied at
supposing the real.8 The outcoe of this progra is !he Rime of the $ncient (ariner:
0 for, close to a edieval "allad "allad style$
0 the allegorical and sy"olic power of the poe, lac& of water 3 dryness of spirit* the "ecaled ship
3 the ailess soul of a an who has sinned$
0 oveent fro innocence to e0perience central to a great deal of Roantic writing$
0 the pantheistic idea of Fature e0acting punishent for the infringeent of her law of love and
forcing the sinner to reali4e what he has done$
0 the point in which the poe was in advance of its day, the use of wonder and the supernatural. The
stress on the effect of the horrors on the ariner's ind (psychological aspect) e0ists "ut is not
central serves only to enhance the sense of the arvelous and a&e it ore vivid.
B5
N5/ The use of wonder ar&s a very iportant step in the progress of roanticis the "rea& through of
the purely iaginative in the highest spheres of literature. .ctually* it is not the arvels theselves that are
so characteristics "ut the widening of the ental hori4on to include the whole world of what are now &nown
as para>psychological phenoena.
0 poetical value of the poe, the vividness and clarity of the pictures it "rings. The intense use of
colour the ice is given as eerald* the "loody sun is in a copper s&y etc. The continual use of
contrast* e.g. the freshness aid the tropical heat soe of these contrasts have a suggestive force
that a&es the powerful sy"ols.
;ow these pictures are all caught up into the rapid rash of the story foring an inevita"le part of the action*
in fact those pictures are the action should "e clear and vivid.
The siplicity of the language, soe of the words ay "e anti@uated or unusual* yet* they are a"solutely
concrete and the synta0 is the siplest iagina"le.
Coleridge aied at creating a sense of atosphere of distance and was using the old "allad style and the old
"allad eter siple and -ingling.
@ubla @han an opiu drea* an e0aple of autoatic writingQ
;ere Coleridge e"odies the essence of the poetic iagination the ost powerful of the huan senses*
which is alone capa"le of perceiving the underlying harony of all things and of understanding the truth
a"out the world.
Coleridge presents an e0otic landscape often interpreted as sy"oli4ing the oveent of the creative
iagination.
The poe is a vision seen in a drea it has all the vague irreality of a drea. .ssociations play an even
greater part here than in the $ncient (ariner "ecause there is no fraewor& of plot to organi4e no logical
content* and they follow one another with the inconse@uentiality of a drea. 2hat "inds these together is
Coleridge's sense of usic.
;is tric& of repetition, whole phrases &eep rising to the surface again and again as in a syphony. The
elodies change* ra"ling oveents elt into trochaic or anapestic$ three* four and five "eat passages
replace each other* "ut the recurring thees with the repeated elodies prevent the whole fro falling into
chaos the governing for is not logical "ut usical.
The pictures are uch ore ela"orate than in the $ncient (ariner "ut they have no crystal sharpness and
very few of the ad-ectives have direct appeal to the eye* alost no use of colour. The ad-ectives used are in
fact eotional rather than pictorial.
Contrast, the garden with the pleasure doe v(s the sunless caves. %ut since the pictures are vague and
disconnected* these contrasts dissolve into one another and increase the vagueness* instead of achieving
sharpness.
,ristabel " again a fragent only (3 Iu"la Ihan)
!t stands "etween A e0trees of crystal sharpness (.ncient )ariner) and dreay ist (Iu"la Ihan) though
it wor&s essentially through suggestion rather than stateent.
Rhetorical @uestions that interrupt the narrative and create a sense of ystery are used though Coleridge
does not depart fro the realis of facts. They suggest that "oth reader and narrator are present at the scene
B6
and give a sense of iediacy. The power with which the concrete atosphere of the old castle and the still
oonlit night is given.
)etrically* the for shows Coleridge's yearning after freedo and variety of cadence, the general
oveent is ia"ic* "ut the principle in which the etre rests is not of feet at all "ut of &eeping the four
strong accents for each line and leaving the freedo for the accentuated sylla"les* which can vary in
nu"er it is the ultiate triuph over the foralis of the 18
th
c verse the su"-ect evolves its own
usic with every change of ood.
Dor, the edieval "allad for.
N5/ ,ristabel * far ore than the Lyrical 2allads is the real cornerstone of /nglish roanticis.
The language is siple* so is the eter. The pictures have not the sharpness of outline* nor the vivid
coloring of the $ncient (ariner. ;ere they only serve to give the atosphere and are &ept di and rather
colourless.
The ost rear&a"le fact a"out the poe is that it achieves its effects alost without the use of iagery.
;ere* e0cept for the constant personifications of nature* it is practically the verse usic alone that a&es the
poetry.
.fter going to Gerany to study philosophy Coleridge's career as a poet cae to an end philosophical
wor&s and literary criticis, 2iographia Literaria.
Coleridge's ain wor& was to transfor the echanistic psychology of the 18
th
century and to initiate a
reaction against it. ;e introduced to /ngland the new idealis of Gerany. ;e set out to e0plore the
unconscious wor&ings of the ind. ;e "rought a"out the revolution in literary thought that consists in
regarding the iagination as the sovereign* creative power* e0pressing the growth of a whole personality.
Coleridge asserted that a :oet's heart and !ntellect should "e intiately co"ined with the great
appearances in nature,
0 Gree& poetry all natural o"-ects were considered dead 3 e0aple of ,an'y the law of
associations v(s
0 ;e"rew poetry each thing has a life of its own and yet they are all one life 3 e0aple of
iaginati)n !transcends sensational and aterial.
.fter 18<B Coleridge wor&ed on his cardinal doctrine, freedo and initiative of the oral will* the divine
spar& in each of us 7the ! of every rational %eing8.
)any of Coleridge's favourite iages are either iages of ill*inati)n, oonlight* sun* etc* or iages of
nat*ral )ti)n, waterfalls* ship's foa* clouds* the leaves of the tree in the wind* the flight of "irds.
Coleridge too& fro the Geran roantics the idea that poetry should "e independent as opposed to
echanical construction.
R)anti' (y9)li( in C)leri.geF( aC)r -)e(/
Dor Coleridge* as for :lato* physical appearances are the 7shadows of ideas8* pro-ected upon the transient
flu0 of nature. /very poetic landscape for hi is the landscape of the ind 7soething within e8. !n that
sense Coleridge's sy"olis is artificial drawn fro the world of what e0ternally e0ists within the huan
ind.
2ith these concepts in ind and in the line of the roantic tradition of organic fusion with nature is written
!he Rime of the $ncient (ariner)
B6
The )ariner's draa, he is una"le to conceive and appreciate the deep relation "etween the huan and the
natural "oth are products of the sae act of creation and he is una"le to read nature's sy"ols. ;e is
iprisoned "y the echanistic ind of the rationality and epiricis* so* he &ills the al"atross the "ird is
the sy"ol of Fature's two>fold unity, the union within her of the spiritual and the aterial.
The )ariner's spiritual etaorphosis, initiation in the &nowledge of the hidden eanings of things. ;e is
directed in this etaorphosis "y soe super>personal power sy"oli4ed "y the sun and the oon its
two aspects.
Dor Coleridge nature is sy"olic, it stands for an a"solute spirit the lac& of rain and wind* the rolling sea
sy"oli4e soe transcendental presence. 2hen the )ariner reali4es that he is a part of an organic and
natural whole he anages to see the "eauty around.
Sy"ols in @ubla @han:
0 the pleasure>doe, creation of deli"erate huan desire* i.e. of autonoous will* it is an artifice$
0 the cavern* the sea, they "elong to Fature* they are a natural creation (v(s the pleasure doe)$
0 natural creations are agnificent and terrifying walls and towers are "uilt around the doe to
guard it, it is a piece of paradise* which has transcended the liits of tie* it has stepped into
eternity with its perfection$
0 the fountain, stands for the "eginning of tie and for the poet's inspiration which flows vigorously
and energetically$
0 the sacred river, it is the flow of tie into the future into eternity$
0 the doe is not secure nothing aterial will ever last Feoplatonis 3 we live in a world of
shadows, only the reflection of the doe unsta"le* floating on the water.
!he Rime of the $ncient (ariner 3 a world of pure iagination it has the logic of a drea$ a world of
sudden* unotivated succession of iages.
0 1
st
stan4a, the difference "(n the outside logical world (the wedding* the festivities and the an0ieties
of the wedding all fall within the ordinary world of sense and logic) v(s the world of the poe
(the )ariner who has only his drea to offer)
0 !n this world of iagination there are two stages,
1. the participation of all reality living and non>living* real and spiritual* in one organic whole$
A. the constant shifts "(n su"-ect and o"-ect in the phenoena of the iaginative world.
ROMANTIC POETRY/ A)hn Deat( "1#KI ! 18<1&
Deat(F( letter(/ reflections on the nature of poetry and critical precepts for the evaluation of poetry.
.ccording to Ieats we disli&e and distrust poetry which tries overtly to persuade us of the poet's point of
view poetry should "e ore indirect* counicating through the power of its iages.
Early -)e(/ focus on the idyllic and natural world. Ieats @uestioned whether poetry should offer an
iaginative escape to a world "eyond through a networ& of ideali4ed visions.
Later -)e(/ focus on the shifts "etween art (iortal) and poet (ortal)* art and nature* ideal and real.
Main thee in Deat(F( -)etry/ the conflict "(n the everyday world (suffering* death and decay) and
eternity (the tieless "eauty and lasting truth of poetry and the huan iagination).
Earlie(t -)etry/ ainly long poes* soe of the epic in style and concept,
B1
0 Endymion* 1818, written in 5 "oo&s$ derived in style and structure fro Gree& legends and yths.
)ain thee in the poes is the search for an ideal love and happiness "eyond earthly possi"ility.
0 !he Fall of 'yperion, 181=, influenced "y )ilton (inversion* use of ad-ectives as adver"s). The
su"-ect atter of the poe is the downfall of the old gods who are ar&ed "y their strength and
"eauty. The idea that evolution is a constant and inevita"le process 3 a law of nature.
Ieats continued to write long poes* which allowed hi to develop a characteristic feature of the style of
all poes, (en(*)*( iagery$ which supports descriptive detail.
Ieats* -ust li&e Coleridge* was attracted to e0otic settings for his narratives ythic classical "ac&ground
and edieval conte0ts of high Roance.
&sabella, Lania, #aint $gnes Eve, La 2elle %ame #ans (erci narrative poetry* verse tales e0plore the
failiar Roantic thees,
0 relationship "etween eotion and reality$
0 iperanence of huan love$
0 search for an elusive "eauty.
Ieats* along with other roantic poets* was attracted "y the )edieval .ges ( 18
th
c. classicis). This
adiration allows hi to a&e particular use of the "allad for to e0plore aspects of the irrational*
unconscious and supernatural world.
Ieats's odes are rich and sensuous variety of huan e0perience set against the transience of huan life.
They e0plore "asic contradictions,
0 elancholy found in delight$
0 pleasure found in pain$
0 e0citeent found in "oth eotional sensations and intellectual thoughts.
Ieats's contrasts,
> dreas v(s reality$
0 the iagination v(s the actual$
0 the tangi"le v(s the intangi"le.
Ieats cele"rates "eauty "ut at the sae tie he &nows that all things ust fade and die. ;e thought that
great poetry grows fro deep suffering and tragedy (2. sudden influ0 of eotions recollected in
tran@uility).
Ieats is regarded as the aster of the for of the ).e6 ;e develops a poetic language appropriate "oth to
the for of the ode and the nature of the thees.
Deat(F( lang*age/
0 renders e0perience precisely$
0 captures the rhyth and oveent of thought and feelings$
0 registers a full range of sense ipressions$
0 synaesthesia the use of iagery which descri"es sensory ipressions in ters of other senses.
/.g. sunbunt mirth " we see the sun"urnt faces and at the sae tie hear the laughter of those
people* 7a touch of scent8)
Ieats's pursuit of the eternal truth of poetic art and iagination is e0pressed in his Ede to a 1recian *rn)
72eauty is truth, truth beauty " that is all
3ou now on earth, and all ye need to now8)
B8
The Grecian urn 3 the peranence of art$ the urn cele"rates the power of the artist to iortali4e huan
activity (art). The "eauty of art is seeing the real truth of e0istence. The creative process is evolution fro
perception to thought.
Ieats lu0uriated in his sensations. Dor hi "oth love and poetry are a trance of the senses and his iagery is
constantly trudged with an erotic strain. ;e is not &eenly interested in social @uestions.
Ieats felt no need to -ustify his poetry (as other roantics did) he was the forerunner of the doctrine of
$rt for $rt>s #ae. ;e was convinced that the poet ust serve foral "eauty not God of a purpose (as
opposed to 2.'s opinion).
!n his early years Ieats was influenced "y Spenser's poetry his poetic inspiration cae fro poetry itself
the idea of creating "eauty such as Spenser's* his approach to poetry ensured that of an artist and
craftsan* not of a teacher* prophet or reforer (in contrast to 2.'s ideas).
2hat Ieats sought in poetry was "eauty of language* of iagery and description. %ut for hi "eauty was
not the supree good to which all other values ust "e sacrificed (as it was for the later school of $rt for
$rt>s #ae).
Iaginati)n/
7& am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart>s affections and the truth of &magination " what the
&magination sei+es must be truth)8 (Ieats in a letter)
#i&e ost of the roantics* Ieats accepted the idea of the iagination as the essential creative faculty and
an instruent of &nowledge in itself. Dor hi the greatest achieveent was what he called negati3e
'a-a9ility 7when a man is capable of uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching
after fact and reason8 capa"le of a"sor"ing and reflecting everything* foul or fair* ean or elevated*
siply as it was* without twisting it into a syste. 9ne of his ideas of poetry* said in a letter* is that 7Fif
poetry comes not as naturally as the leaves to a tree, it had better not come at all)8 ore or less this is the
typical attitude of the roantics as a whole.
So* we have alost autoatic writing ? craftsanship though they see contradictory they were
reconciled in Ieats's practice.
Ieats did not "elieve that poetry could "e coposed "y rules "ut he did "elieve that a poet could so train
hiself that the rules would "egin to wor& autoatically. ;e hoped to develop his poetry "y developing
hiself* "y going to different places and e0periencing things in nature* not -ust sitting aong "oo&s.
Ieats strained after the principle of beauty in all things, "ut unli&e Shelley* for Ieats* with his sensuous
ind* "eauty was inherent in the o"-ect itself* a definite reality and not therefore unattaina"le. Dor hi
"eauty resided in all things* "oth in pain and in pleasure* and conversely pain was inherent in "eauty the
idea of the Ede to (elancholy)
Deat(F( -)eti' -);er/ his creative use of language, the "oldness with which he invents new fors and new
eanings or uses.
The idea in his poes that Fature is the poet's great inspirer and that her influence can "e felt in the wor&
that results. Dor that reason Ieats undertoo& his tour to the ;ighlands when he returned fro there we
find in his 'yperion a feeling of ountainous grandeur. This is closer to 2ordsworth's pantheis "ut it is
reduced to a ore realistic level does not necessarily include the active participation of Fature in the
process (as with 2.). This is not real pantheis his apostrophes to Fature (e.g. the oon) are only
etaphorical* it is "eauty that he deified 3 the idea of "eauty of Fature.
B=
Endymion written in the !sle of 2ight the need of ore inspiring surroundings (v(s #ondon) nature
as inspiration.
The poe is "ased on an old Gree& yth, for Ieats this yth was a sy"ol of the poet's longing for
"eauty. The search for the ideal leads /ndyion away fro huanity at first (he tries to plunge hiself in
"eautiful things* in nature* then in art) "ut it is when he turns aside fro all this to help Glaucus that his
@uest is said to close Endymion represents a certain revolt against the roantic yearnings for the infinite
in the solution it offers* though not in its su"-ects. (he finally reali4es that his ideal and his "eloved are
one).
Ieats's creed appears rather in his lyrical poetry* not the narrative one* in his sonnets and odes.
Ede to (elancholy: the idea of the close connection "etween pain and "eauty "eauty is "orn out of the
elancholic strain* "eauty for hi is a &ind of ecstatic pain (li&e love).
!t is a"ove all in his iagery that we recogni4e Ieats, return to the classical ythology of the /li4a"ethans
and )ilton which to the #a&e school had "een anathea since it was "oth conventional and unnatural (not
part of the ideal real language of en). Classical ythology appealed to Ieats "ecause of its concreteness
and "ecause it opened the door to a rich world of "eauty. Ieats's poetry is full of sensuous iages (of taste*
sight* touch). Oet* though the sensuous strain is there* it is never the only* or even* the doinant one the
spiritual* ethereal plane is there too and it is present as the ultiate truth. !t is the sensuous strain that lends
vigor to his sense of "eauty and &eeps it close to real e0perience.
!n Ede to (elancholy Ieats ta&es as his sy"ol of "eauty the rich e0u"erance of the peony* not the delicate
flowers of spring "ut that which with its "ig si4e* its opulence and deep glowing colour "est e"odies the
richness of suer.
Ede to a Dightingale " repeats the sae thee, the sadness is lin&ed with "eauty. !t is a pure eotion* not a
direct stateent as in the previous ode,
0 the "eauty of the "ird's song* the very sense of happiness it inspires is transuted to pain$
0 the "ird is the sy"ol of "eauty* of -oy* of roance* of the 7fairy lands forlorn8 of the
iagination$ the poet longs to participate in the "ird's world of "eauty* first through the into0ication
of wine* then on the wings of poetry nut at its very height the ecstasy e""s suddenly away$
0 the whole runs through a variety of eotions rising and sin&ing* and rising again* till each stan4a
sees to have reached the very suit* only to "e out>topped "y the ne0t$
0 the central stan4a the oent of coplete a"sorption into the "eauty of nature "ut it is only a
oent* then the thought of death sets in.
Ieats e0presses his eotional conviction that the "eauty of the "ird's song was incopati"le with the
thought of death such "eauty cannot die. The song is iortal whatever ay happen to the "ird$ the song
3 art.
Ede to a 1recian *rn " the idea of identity and truth and "eauty$ "eauty is the great a"stract principle of
%eauty in all things.
2hat Ieats tries to say is that the urn is so "eautiful and that convinces hi of the actuality of what it
depicts that he is "rought hoe to his a0i, "eauty is truth and is ade to feel that it is the only thing that
atters.
The iportant part of the ode is the reverie, Ieats has sun& hiself so copletely in his reverie around the
figures on the vase that he cannot dis"elief his truth.
+espite the "eauty and the happiness there is soe sorrow present, nothing can ever ar the happiness of
the iaginary lovers (on the vase)* yet* they cannot ever &now the highest ecstasy. The elancholy runs
through ost of the odes.
5<
9f all the roantics it was Ieats who was to have the deepest effect on the ne0t generation of poets
Tennyson* %rowning and the :re>Raphaelists. !t is Ieats* with his ore concrete* sensuous vision who
fors the "ridge "etween roanticis proper and Kictorian roanticis of id and later 1=
th
century.
Reality@ art an. 9ea*ty in Deat(F -)e(
Ieats rarely coes to any conclusions in his poetry soething which is at the heart of his doctrine of
negati3e 'a-a9ility6 This does not ean that his poes are open>ended, they reveal a pattern which is vital
for understanding Ieats.
The -attern/ a procedure of su"-ect eeting o"-ect in this process of eeting the fact (the su"-ect) is
see&ing upon a union with the ideal. The ideal 3 a"sorption of the e4periencing self into the essence through
the intensity of sensory encounter and the grace of iagination the result, the o"-ect* a piece of art (the
urn) or a piece of nature (the nightingale)* reveals an ultiate reality* soe true "eauty.
The dichotoy actual reality E "eauty is well developed in the Ede to a Dightingale and Ede on
(elancholy)
Ede to a Dightingale " a gap "etween the ideal world of the "ird and a gri vision of reality.
0 the poet is una"le to e0clude the real world$
0 in the conte0t of actual decay* the "ird's song stands for soe &ind of "eauty. The "ird's song is
heard all through the centuries* 7by emperors and clowns8 a sense of eternity 3 iortality$
0 the poet is hauled "ac& fro epathy (with the o"-ect* the "ird's song) "y the prison of his own
huanity the poet's ortality doos hi to a world of sorrow.
Ede on (elancholy " reconciling the two worlds, ideal and real* thus showing that they are integrated and
wholly necessary to each other. !n its conclusion* "eauty e0ists and ust "e aspired to.
Ede to a 1recian *rn " again the pattern of epathy with a piece of artistic "eauty.
0 the urn, contains the wisdo of the ages eternity in it$
0 art teaches "eyond the eotions to soething ipersonal and a"solute the tieless* ultiate true
reality is attaina"le through art.
2ith Ieats* truth is another nae for ultimate reality discovered "y the iagination with its insights into
the nature of things. !nstead of discovering of facts through reason we have a discovery of "eauty through
the iagination.
Deat(ean iaginati)n/ an insight so fine that it sees what is concealed fro other en and understands
things in their full 3 it sees the ultiate truth. .rt a&es iortal oents of happiness (e.g. the
trou"adour and his "eloved).
51