Notes on the Preface to the Second Edition of Lyrical Ballads

advertisement
Notes on the Preface to the Second Edition of Lyrical Ballads
Crisis of authority / Poetry / Science / Ways of Knowing / Mirrors / Objectivity /
Transparency
The first paragraph states that Lyrical Ballads was published as, “an experiment, which, I
hoped, might be of some use to ascertain, how far, by fitting to metrical arrangement a
selection of the real language of men in a state of vivid sensation, that sort of pleasure
and that quantity of pleasure may be imparted, which a Poet may rationally endeavour to
impart.” There are a couple of things to notice here. First, the use of the word,
“experiment,” announces a comparison of the work of the poet to the work of the
scientist,” which Wordsworth recurs to at some length on page 488. Poetry and science
are both ways of getting at truth. The truth of science is a truth about particular things and
their relation to other things. The truth of poetry, says Wordsworth, is the “is the breath
and finer spirit of all knowledge; it is the impassioned expression which is in the
countenance of all Science.” (page 487) He goes on to say, “Poetry is the first and last of
all knowledge—it is as immortal as the heart of man. If the labours of Men of science
should ever create any material revolution, direct or indirect, in our condition, and in the
impressions which we habitually receive, the Poet will sleep then no more than at
present; he will be ready to follow the steps of the Man of science, not only in those
general indirect effects, but he will be at his side, carrying sensation into the midst of
the objects of the science itself.” In other words, science can (and did) make an atomic
bomb by studying the relations between atoms on the atomic level. However, poetry can
attempt to describe how we think and feel about the atomic bomb—what the atomic
bomb means, which science does not do. Our textbook notes in a footnote on the bottom
of page 488 that this contrasting of poetry and science expresses “an anxiety about
poetry’s cultural position” that occupied criticism “until the middle of the twentieth
century.” I would argue that this anxiety still occupies people’s attention and is a partial
explanation for why people don’t read poetry. They don’t value the truth that poetry tells.
Next, in the first paragraph, we note that Wordsworth describes the experiment, “how far,
by fitting to metrical arrangement a selection of the real language of men in a state of
vivid sensation, that sort of pleasure and that quantity of pleasure may be imparted,
which a Poet may rationally endeavour to impart.” The key here is the boldfaced section
above, the idea that if you put something called the “real language of men in a state of
vivid sensation,” you will create in the reader a the sort of pleasure that a poet can
reasonably (rationally) hope to create. In short, you have a sort of formula, almost like a
chemical reaction.
(“real language of men” + vivid sensation + metrical arrangement) = poetic pleasure.
He then goes on to say that he understands that people have certain expectations
regarding poems and poetry. People expect of a poet that “he will gratify certain known
habits of association; that he not only thus apprises the Reader that certain classes of
ideas and expressions will be found in his book, but that others will be carefully
excluded.” Wordsworth then says, that he will likely disappoint people who think his
poems are going to look and feel like the popular poetry of the day, whose language he
finds “gaudy” and “inane.” (p. 483). In other words, Wordsworth is announcing, and
explaining, his “difference.”
Wordsworth’s explanation (page 483)
1. I chose incidents and situations from common life
2. I used the “language really used by men” to describe and relate those situations.
3. At the same time, I “threw” a “certain coloring of the imagination” over them
3.1. thereby, “ordinary things should be presented to the mind in an unusual aspect”
3.2. And I made them interesting by tracing the “primary laws of our nature”
3.2.1. “chiefly, as regards the manner in which associate ideas in a state of
excitement..”
4. Humble and rustic life was chosen
4.1. “essential matters of the human heart find a better soil there” to attain “maturity”
4.2. “are less under restraint”
4.3. “speak a plainer and more emphatic language”
4.3.1. because in country people “elementary feelings coexist in a state of
greater simplicity.”
4.3.1.1.therefore they “may be more accurately contemplated”
4.3.1.2.And “more forcibly communicated.”
4.3.1.2.1. because rural life “germinates” manners from more
“elementary feelings.”
4.3.1.2.2. because the “necessary character of rural occupations” are
“more easily comprehended.”
4.3.1.2.3. and they are “more durable.”
4.3.1.2.4. finally, “in that condition [rural] the “passions of men are
incorporated with the beautiful and permanent forms of nature.”
4.3.1.2.5. the language has been “purified”
4.3.1.2.5.1.because the “men hourly communicate with the best
objects from which language is originally derived”
4.3.1.2.5.2.and because of the “sameness and narrow circle” of their
social life, they are “less under the influence of social
vanity”
4.3.1.2.5.2.1. they convey their “notions in simple and
unelaborated expressions.”
4.3.1.2.5.2.2. which because it arises “out of repeated
experience and regular feelings, is a more permanent,
and a far more philosophical language, than that
which is frequently substituted for it by Poets, who
think that they are conferring honour upon themselves
and their art, in proportion as they separate themselves
from the sympathies of men, and indulge in arbitrary
and capricious habits of expression, in order to furnish
food for fickle tastes, and fickle appetites, of their own
creation.”
In other words, Wordsworth proposes a theory: that people in rural life speak a purified
language because of their closeness to nature (best objects from which language was
originally derived) and because they live in small communities they are not exposed to
the “social vanity” that people in big cities must put up with, and because their language
arises from the repeated experience of rural life (the rhythms, I guess, of farming) and not
from the discontinuous experience of city life (where anything can happen and often
does), their language is more permanent and more philosophical language than the fancy
words used by poets who are trying to impress others and themselves with their
vocabulary.
In yet other words: Wordsworth is proposing that the language of rural life and the
experience of rural life allow for a more transparent, more immediate, and more
philosophic (deeper) way of expressing poetic truth and poetic pleasure.
So: Transparency, nature (both as in wildness, but also as in rural human life) purity, and
elementary or primary feelings and thoughts are valued.
Wordsworth says at the bottom of 483 that his poems have a purpose. However, he says
he does always begin to write with a distinct purpose, but that, “Not that I always began
to write with a distinct purpose formerly conceived; but habits of meditation have, I trust,
so prompted and regulated my feelings, that my descriptions of such objects as strongly
excite those feelings, will be found to carry along with them a purpose.” In other words,
whatever purpose a poem has is unconsciously discovered through “habits of
meditation.”
He goes on, “For all good poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings:
and though this be true, Poems to which any value can be attached were never
produced on any variety of subjects but by a man who, being possessed of more than
usual organic sensibility, had also thought long and deeply.
For our continued influxes of feeling are modified and directed by our thoughts,
which are indeed the representatives of all our past feelings; and, as by
contemplating the relation of these general representatives to each other, we
discover what is really important to men, so, by the repetition and continuance of
this act, our feelings will be connected with important subjects, till at length, if we be
originally possessed of much sensibility, such habits of mind will be produced, that, by
obeying blindly and mechanically the impulses of those habits, we shall describe
objects, and utter sentiments, of such a nature, and in such connexion with each other,
that the understanding of the Reader must necessarily be in some degree
enlightened, and his affections strengthened and purified.”
Poetry = spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings. In other words, poetry is something
that happens almost on its own, almost (note I am saying almost) a kind of possession or
inspiration. Poetry is somehow if not irrational then a-rational—beyond reason.
However, to achieve this spontaneous overflow you have to:
1) have more than usual organic sensibility (poetic sensitivity or talent)
2) have thought long and deeply
3) thoughts modify our feelings
a) thoughts are themselves the representatives of past feelings.
b) A representative of something is not the thing itself. For example, your
representative in congress is not you but (in theory) represents your interests.
Likewise, thoughts, to Wordsworth, are not past feelings, but represent past
feelings. Perhaps like an accumulation of feeling on a particular topic?
c) The poet relates these representative feelings to each other and, so, becomes
aware of what is important to men
d) The poet does this over and over so that making these connections becomes
almost instinctive
e) Then, when, the poetic moment happens (spontaneous overflow of powerful
feelings) by obeying blindly and mechanically the impulses of those habits, we
shall describe objects, and utter sentiments, of such a nature, and in such
connexion with each other,
f) that the understanding of the Reader must necessarily be in some degree
enlightened, and his affections strengthened and purified.”
In other words, the poet trains himself through meditation and “deep thinking” to
make connections between various feelings and thoughts, almost weaving an internal
network of feelings and thoughts. Then, when the poetic moment happens (the
spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings), this network is activated so that
whatever powerful feelings the poet has will connect with the appropriate feelings
and thoughts from his past meditations. The reader’s understanding (his mind, spirit,
soul) will be in some degree enlightened and his own feelings “strengthened and
purified.”
This process is somewhat reminiscent Matthew Arnold’s process in re: reading and
society. We will see a slightly different version of this process later.
Feeling and action and importance
Page 484
Another circumstance must be mentioned which distinguishes these Poems from the
popular Poetry of the day; it is this, that the feeling therein developed gives
importance to the action and situation, and not the action and situation to the feeling.
Here Wordsworth is saying that a seemingly small or humble event or thing or place
or person can have deep resonance if endowed by the poet with feeling. In other
words, a poet need not focus on heroic figures and heroic actions, but can endow or
“ordinary life” or ruins (like Tintern Abbey) or nature and with a large importance.
What matters is how the poet feels, the connections the poet makes. This section also
reminds me a bit (albeit in reverse) of Marx’s idea that life forms consciousness, not
consciousness, life.
On the other hand, both Wordsworth and Marx believe in demystification, i.e.
transparency. For Marx it is making the class struggle transparent to workers (so they
will wake up and lose their chains). For Wordsworth, this transparency is directed
inward toward one’s thoughts and outward toward “nature” or, later, God. The truth
contained in poetry creates a way for the reader to become “enlightened” and
“purified.” To see things as they really are. For Marx, it is communist thought or
philosophy (or art) that enlightens the worker so that they can see their true relation to
capitalists, i.e. understand the mechanisms of oppression and the means of liberation
(struggle).
Page 484
The subject [the relation between the feeling and action] is indeed important! For the
human mind is capable of being excited without the application of gross and violent
stimulants; and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who
does not know this, and who does not further know, that one being is elevated above
another, in proportion as he possesses this capability. It has therefore appeared to
me, that to endeavour to produce or enlarge this capability is one of the best services
in which, at any period, a Writer can be engaged; but this service, excellent at all
times, is especially so at the present day.
In other words exposure to poetry enlarges people’s sensitivity and their ability to
make connections.
He then decries the multitude of causes, unknown to former times, are now acting
with a combined force to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind, and, unfitting it
for all voluntary exertion, to reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor.
He blames the increasing accumulation of men in cities, where the uniformity of their
occupations produces a craving for extraordinary incident, which the rapid
communication of intelligence hourly gratifies. to this tendency of life and manners
the literature and theatrical exhibitions of the country have conformed themselves.
And a degrading thirst after outrageous stimulation
Doesn’t this remind you of many of the arguments against our own popular culture?
Page 484 /485 More About Language and Transparency
On page 485 Wordsworth talks more about language, “Without being culpably
particular, I do not know how to give my Reader a more exact notion of the style
in which it was my wish and intention to write, than by informing him that I have
at all times endeavoured to look steadily at my subject; consequently, there is I
hope in these Poems little falsehood of description, and my ideas are expressed in
language fitted to their respective importance.”
Note the idea here of “looking steadily,” i.e. of seeing clearly. If you see whatever it
is you are describing clearly, your descriptions of that thing in poetry will be more
truthful. That is, if the thing you are looking at is more transparent to you, your
descriptions will become more truthful. The trick is learning how to see. Not
simply to look at something or someone, but to see them clearly, freshly, without
stereotypes.
Next Wordsworth discusses the way he uses language in poetry, attempting to prove
that ordinary language is suited to the best poetry. He uses a poem by Thomas
Gray to prove his point, showing how the most powerful part of Gray’s poem is
that part written in the simplest language. He then discusses the difference
between the language of good poetry and good prose and says that there is none.
This threatens to collapse the difference between poetry and prose. However,
Wordsworth notes that the language of poetry is set to meter and made with “true
taste and feeling.”
Another important point Wordsworth is implicitly making: that poetry ought to be
accessible to people. If it is written in their language, they will read it. If it is not,
they will not.
I answer that the language of such Poetry as is here recommended is, as far as is
possible, a selection of the language really spoken by men; that this selection,
wherever it is made with true taste and feeling, will of itself form a distinction far
greater than would at first be imagined, and will entirely separate the
composition from the vulgarity and meanness of ordinary life; and, if metre be
superadded thereto, I believe that a dissimilitude will be produced altogether
sufficient for the gratification of a rational mind.
On page 486, Wordsworth then goes on to define a poet:
What is a Poet? to whom does he address himself? and what language is to be
expected from him?—He is a man speaking to men: a man, it is true, endowed
with more lively sensibility, more enthusiasm and tenderness, who has a greater
knowledge of human nature, and a more comprehensive soul, than are
supposed to be common among mankind; a man pleased with his own passions
and volitions, and who rejoices more than other men in the spirit of life that is
in him; delighting to contemplate similar volitions and passions as manifested
in the goings-on of the Universe, and habitually impelled to create them where
he does not find them. to these qualities he has added a disposition to be affected
more than other men by absent things as if they were present; an ability of
conjuring up in himself passions, which are indeed far from being the same as
those produced by real events, yet (especially in those parts of the general
sympathy which are pleasing and delightful) do more nearly resemble the
passions produced by real events, than anything which, from the motions of their
own minds merely, other men are accustomed to feel in themselves:— whence,
and from practice, he has acquired a greater readiness and power in expressing
what he thinks and feels, and especially those thoughts and feelings which, by
his own choice, or from the structure of his own mind, arise in him without
immediate external excitement.
Later, on page 488 he adds:
Among the qualities there enumerated as principally conducing to form a
Poet, is implied nothing differing in kind from other men, but only in degree.
The sum of what was said is, that the Poet is chiefly distinguished from other
men by a greater promptness to think and feel without immediate external
excitement, and a greater power in expressing such thoughts and feelings as
are produced in him in that manner. But these passions and thoughts and
feelings are the general passions and thoughts and feelings of men. and with what
are they connected? Undoubtedly with our moral sentiments and animal
sensations, and with the causes which excite these; with the operations of the
elements, and the appearances of the visible universe; with storm and sunshine,
with the revolutions of the seasons, with cold and heat, with loss of friends and
kindred, with injuries and resentments, gratitude and hope, with fear and sorrow.
These, and the like, are the sensations and objects which the Poet describes, as
they are the sensations of other men, and the objects which interest them. The
Poet thinks and feels in the spirit of human passions. How, then, can his
language differ in any material degree from that of all other men who feel
vividly and see clearly? It might be proved that it is impossible. But supposing
that this were not the case, the Poet might then be allowed to use a peculiar
language when expressing his feelings for his own gratification, or that of men
like himself. But Poets do not write for Poets alone, but for men. Unless
therefore we are advocates for that admiration which subsists upon ignorance, and
that pleasure which arises from hearing what we do not understand, the Poet must
descend from this supposed height; and, in order to excite rational sympathy, he
must express himself as other men express themselves. to this it may be added,
that while he is only selecting from the real language of men, or, which amounts
to the same thing, composing accurately in the spirit of such selection, he is
treading upon safe ground, and we know what we are to expect from him.
Much as he does with language (and at the same time), Wordsworth makes an
argument that poets do not differ from other men in essentials, but only in the
degree of their ability to think and feel. In other words, they are the same as other
guys, but not quite. That being the case, the poet will use the language of ordinary
people, but he will use it selectively and imaginatively. But, again, the language
used will be an accessible one. Poetry is not something reserved for the educated
classes. All (literate) men and women can enjoy it.
Pleasure
Wordsworth has a theory of the relation of pleasure (and pain) to poetry. He states
(below) that the only necessity that poetry operates under is that of giving
pleasure. He then states that, except for giving pleasure, there is no “object”
standing between the Poet and the image of things—whereas for a biographer or
historian or scientist, etc. there are many object. For example, a historian must not
only give pleasure but be historically accurate—whereas this is not a necessity for
the poet. He then goes on to point out that even science is based in pleasure—the
pleasure in knowing things. He then compares the activity of the poet
(contemplating nature and coming back with pleasurable knowledge) and that of
the scientist (contemplating nature and coming back with pleasurable knowledge.)
What the two do when they contemplate may be different, but they both produce
valuable and pleasurable knowledge.
Page 487: The Poet writes under one restriction only, namely, the necessity of
giving immediate pleasure to a human Being possessed of that information
which may be expected from him, not as a lawyer, a physician, a mariner, an
astronomer, or a natural philosopher, but as a Man. Except this one restriction,
there is no object standing between the Poet and the image of things; between
this, and the Biographer and Historian, there are a thousand. 18 Nor let this
necessity of producing immediate pleasure be considered as a degradation of the
Poet’s art. It is far otherwise. It is an acknowledgement of the beauty of the
universe, an acknowledgement the more sincere, because not formal, but indirect;
it is a task light and easy to him who looks at the world in the spirit of love:
further, it is a homage paid to the native and naked dignity of man, to the grand
elementary principle of pleasure, by which he knows, and feels, and lives, and
moves. We have no sympathy but what is propagated by pleasure: I would not be
misunderstood; but wherever we sympathize with pain, it will be found that the
sympathy is produced and carried on by subtle combinations with pleasure. We
have no knowledge, that is, no general principles drawn from the contemplation
of particular facts, but what has been built up by pleasure, and exists in us by
pleasure alone.
Notice the “scientific” way Wordsworth describes the activity of the poet—in
“Arial” typeface below.
Page 487: What then does the Poet? He considers man and the objects that
surround him as acting and re-acting upon each other, so as to produce
an infinite complexity of pain and pleasure; he considers man in his own nature
and in his ordinary life as contemplating this with a certain quantity of immediate
knowledge, with certain convictions, intuitions, and deductions, which from habit
acquire the quality of intuitions; he considers him as looking upon this complex
scene of ideas and sensations, and finding everywhere objects that
immediately excite in him sympathies which, from the necessities of his nature,
are accompanied by an overbalance of enjoyment.
Page 487: He considers man and nature as essentially adapted to each other,
and the mind of man as naturally the mirror of the fairest and most
interesting properties of nature. and thus the Poet, prompted by this feeling of
pleasure, which accompanies him through the whole course of his studies,
converses with general nature, with affections akin to those, which, through
labour and length of time, the Man of science has raised up in himself, by
conversing with those particular parts of nature which are the objects of his
studies.
The notion of comparing poetry (and of literature and art more generally) to a
mirror is the subject of a famous book, M.H. Abrams, “The Mirror and the
Lamp.” In that book Abrams discusses what it means to consider literature as a
mirror. Mirrors do two things: they reflect whatever is placed in front of them
and, by reflecting, create a double. The reflection is not the original—but an
image of it. Moreover, the reflection is not a perfect double, but a reversal and,
therefore, a kind of distortion. Moreover, mirrors can distort by the way the glass
is curved, etc. If “objectivity” is your goal, then you must account for this
distortion to create an “objective” Also, a mirror is always a partial reflection, i.e.
it can only reflect as much as its surface allows.
A lamp, on the other hand, does not pretend to be a copy of anything (think of a
light bulb), but only to illuminate the world around it to a greater or lesser degree.
To say that the “mind of man” “is naturally the mirror of the fairest and most
interesting properties of nature” is to say a couple of things: 1) that the mind of
man is a curious mirror in that it does not reflect the whole of nature but only its
fairest and most interesting parts (Baudelaire would agree, perhaps, that the mind
of man reflects nature—but all of it and more). It also creates a correspondence or
equivalence between man and nature (because they reflect one another) that
allows a poet to speak authoritatively about nature in somewhat the way
science does. That is because one way to think about science is to think of it as a
mirror of reality. E=MC2 is a description (a mirror), an image of reality or a
certain portion of reality (remember mirrors can only reflect what their surface
allows). If you think about science as mirror (and there are other ways to think
about science), then you might say that science is always trying to create more
accurate mirrors (less distortion) and larger mirrors (more general laws). In other
words, by saying that poetry and science are both mirrors, then you are saying that
they can both speak authoritatively on their chosen subjects.
P. 489 Containing the energy unleashed by poetry
If poetry can unleash truth of nature (like science), it can possibly unleash this
truth in an irresponsible way. Wordsworth says that rhythm and rhyme can
contain the energy. This is, perhaps, an attempt to deal with the issue of emotion
in poetry and emotion being traditionally thought of as
Download