*Read intro to DQ by Harold Bloom.
Kelsey-critic: Henry James
Master of novel
loneliness, unreliable characters, moral issues, love, perceptions.
Am I gay???
Turn of the Screw
questioned childhood corruptions.
"Don't mind anything told you about anyone else"
I don't like people, though they are interesting
"Be one on whom nothing is lost"
"The madness of art"
Vic-critic: Ernst Cassirer
Philosophy of culture
Philosophy as symbolic form
symbolic animal (domesticated)
spun off of Kant's trancedentialism
Symbolic forms:
- expression
- representative
- Significance
NF pg. 10 and 350
Ben-critic: Walter Benjamin
Born in Berlin in wealth
skipped the draft by simulating a weak heart
lost financial support at age 33
Influential text: Work of art in the mechanical reproduction
aura
ritual tradition
We have lost aura
Kyle-critic: Oscar Wilde
America- barbarism to decadence
Write the best...don't tell the truth
illusion is for pleasure
art is better.
Jailed for telling the truth
"Either that wall paper goes, or I do"
Ode on a Grecian Urn
Keats
| THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness, | |
| Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time, | |
| Sylvan historian, who canst thus express | |
| A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: | |
| What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape | 5 |
| Of deities or mortals, or of both, | |
| In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? | |
| What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? | |
| What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? | |
| What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy? | 10 |
| |
| Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard | |
| Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; | |
| Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, | |
| Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: | |
| Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave | 15 |
| Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; | |
| Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, | |
| Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve; | |
| She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, | |
| For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! | 20 |
| |
| Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed | |
| Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; | |
| And, happy melodist, unwearièd, | |
| For ever piping songs for ever new; | |
| More happy love! more happy, happy love! | 25 |
| For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd, | |
| For ever panting, and for ever young; | |
| All breathing human passion far above, | |
| That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd, | |
| A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. | 30 |
| |
| Who are these coming to the sacrifice? | |
| To what green altar, O mysterious priest, | |
| Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, | |
| And all her silken flanks with garlands drest? | |
| What little town by river or sea-shore, | 35 |
| Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, | |
| Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn? | |
| And, little town, thy streets for evermore | |
| Will silent be; and not a soul, to tell | |
| Why thou art desolate, can e'er return. | 40 |
| |
| O Attic shape! fair attitude! with brede | |
| Of marble men and maidens overwrought, | |
| With forest branches and the trodden weed; | |
| Thou, silent form! dost tease us out of thought | |
| As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! | 45 |
| When old age shall this generation waste, | |
| Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe | |
| Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, | |
| 'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all | |
| Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.' |
| THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness, | |
| Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time, | |
| Sylvan historian, who canst thus express | |
| A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: | |
| What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape | 5 |
| Of deities or mortals, or of both, | |
| In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? | |
| What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? | |
| What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? | |
| What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy? | 10 |
| |
| Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard | |
| Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; | |
| Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, | |
| Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: | |
| Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave | 15 |
| Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; | |
| Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, | |
| Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve; | |
| She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, | |
| For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! | 20 |
| |
| Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed | |
| Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; | |
| And, happy melodist, unwearièd, | |
| For ever piping songs for ever new; | |
| More happy love! more happy, happy love! | 25 |
| For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd, | |
| For ever panting, and for ever young; | |
| All breathing human passion far above, | |
| That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd, | |
| A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. | 30 |
| |
| Who are these coming to the sacrifice? | |
| To what green altar, O mysterious priest, | |
| Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, | |
| And all her silken flanks with garlands drest? | |
| What little town by river or sea-shore, | 35 |
| Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, | |
| Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn? | |
| And, little town, thy streets for evermore | |
| Will silent be; and not a soul, to tell | |
| Why thou art desolate, can e'er return. | 40 |
| |
| O Attic shape! fair attitude! with brede | |
| Of marble men and maidens overwrought, | |
| With forest branches and the trodden weed; | |
| Thou, silent form! dost tease us out of thought | |
| As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! | 45 |
| When old age shall this generation waste, | |
| Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe | |
| Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, | |
| 'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all | |
| Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.' |
Veil of soulmaking
Nagative capability- " when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason-Coleridge, for instance, would let go by a fine isolated verisimilitude caught from the Penetralium of mystery, from being incapable of remaining content with half-knowledge."
Kevin's blog: Pg. 429 DQ
didactic personality is being parodied. (Both in Hamlet and in DQ)
"Art, imitating nature, seems to surpass it" Aesthetic.
"All the arts aspire to the condition of music." Walter Pader - we don't ask what the musician was trying to teach.
Ben wins the prize of memory!!! He has been visited by Mnemosyne.
Incantatory. Rythm
Documentories use "the voice of God"
DQ 556
"Poetry, senior, in my opinion is like an innocent young maiden who is extremely beautiful..."
All other subjects are handmaidens to "the condition of letters"
Other subjects are pawing at her...but she protects her chastity...
"And so the man who uses and treats poetry in the requisite way that I have mentioned shall be famous...this is the key...with poetry you will be made immortal."
*Bring chart on Mon.
