Angus Calder, Glen Murray and Alan Riach, 3 volumes Manchester: Carcanet, 1996, 1997 and 1998 Morgan, Edwin, 'Who will Publish Scottish Poetry? It is not merely fanciful projection, but it certainly represents aspects of Morgan's life as well as Hopkins's. That is the secret of its song. Although Inversnaid itself is a small village on Loch Lomond, the focus of the poem is on a mountain stream rushing down the hillside and emptying itself into the lake. Yet the poem as a whole is more concerned to sing the praises of the young woman's natural beauty and Wordsworth's own feelings of rapture at having encountered her, than with the wilderness beyond the domestic setting that frames her in his vision. Hopkins describes it mainly from the bottom upwards, which is how he would have experienced it, having arrived on the lakeside, either by road or, more probably, by ferry. This is not the author's fault- -it is the fault of time and space.
Eliot and Ezra Pound both expatriates to Europe ; only one, Yeats, Irish; and with the exception of these three, and of Gerard Manley Hopkins and Charles Doughty, the rest of the English ones are of relatively very 'small beer', while all the major figures belong to other Euripoean literatures. Degged with dew, dappled with dew Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through, Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern, And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn. Hopkins describes the different parts of a highland stream, using word-painting to bring out its wildness, hoping that that wildness might never be destroyed. Nay, what we had lighthanded left in surly the mere mould Will have waked and have waxed and have walked with the wind what while we slept, This side, that side hurling a heavyheaded hundredfold What while we, while we slumbered. Dark tough tight-belted drunken Fenian poor ex-Ulstermen crouched round a brazier like a burning bush and lurched into his soul with such a push that British angels blanched in mid-amen to see their soldier stumble like a Red. His use of language is robust, energetic and, at times, defiantly experimental. Many poets have written about evening turning slowly into night, but none had done it quite the way Hopkins does here.
However, an event that occurred in late 1875 convinced him to take up his pen again. Do but tell us where kept, where. But he simultaneously was a voracious reader and contagiously enthusiastic teacher of modern American poetry, especially the poets of the Beat, Black Mountain and San Francisco movements. For Kenner, the Hopkins lines are full of 'phantom verbs'. The stream is first described as looking like the back of a horse with its mane streaming out as it gallops down a road. MacDiarmid deserves credit for seeing how proleptic of Modernist requirements both Doughty and Hopkins were, in their different ways.
Thank you for your lovely article highlighting his remarkable range. All the time, Hopkins is trying to paint detailed pictures of each part of the stream. Glasgow came as a relief after his last posting to Liverpool, which he found deeply depressing: 'Liverpool is of all places the most museless. Autoplay next video This darksome burn, horseback brown, His rollrock highroad roaring down, In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam Flutes and low to the lake falls home. When it came to editing, I read the poem, for recording first, and the pictures fitted, because I had the relevant lines in mind at the time of shooting; and I think I had to insert only one pause in the pre-recorded track.
A windpuff-bonnet of fawn-froth Turns and twindles over the broth Of a pool so pitchblack, fell-frowning, It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning. Gardner Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1953; repr. Let them be left, O let them be left, wildness and wet; Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet. Hard to say what it is. In this regard, MacDiarmid linked him with the monumental poet Charles Montagu Doughty 1843-1926 , whose twenty-four book epic The Dawn in Britain 1906 , poem-dramas like The Cliffs 1909 and book-length poems like Mansoul, or, The Riddle of the World 1920 , as well as his magnum opus in prose, Travels in Arabia Deserta 1888 , would seem to place him at the furthest remove from the sharp, highly-coloured dexterity of Hopkins's poems. O why are we so haggard at the heart, so care-coiled, care-killed, so fagged, so fashed, so cogged, so cumbered, When the thing we freely forfeit is kept with fonder a care, Fonder a care kept than we could have kept it, kept Far with fonder a care and we, we should have lost it finer, fonder A care kept. Wordsworth's perception in these poems is mainly of a domesticated or cultivated landscape, or farmed fields, a context that presents young womanhood to good advantage.
About Gerard Manley Hopkins Hopkins was a remarkably inventive and experimental Victorian poet. To do this work of cleansing he had to throw away the old worn moulds of language, and mint words and images as if they were being used for the first time. It begins with the poet alone, lying down on the stones of the raised beach, contemplating an island world empty of trees, flowing rivers, fecundity of any kind, simply populated by the bare stones: Nothing has stirred Since I lay down this morning an eternity ago But one bird. George Mackay Brown lived almost all his life in Stromness, on the main island of Orkney. Worth reading for the last four words alone.
Yet comes back the golden echo from the grayness of the lamentation having once existed they can never pass away; beauty is gathered and stored in granaries beyond corruption. It only takes a few minutes to learn by heart. And he applauds Hopkins's humility in refusing to seek fame in his lifetime, while in this church a hundred years after his death, 'his spirit is everywhere'. No there's none, there's none, O no there's none, Nor can you long be, what you are now, called fair, Do what you may do, what, do what you may, And wisdom is early to despair: Be beginning; since, no, nothing can be done To keep at bay Age and age's evils, hoar hair, Ruck and wrinkle, drooping, dying, death's worst, winding sheets, tombs and worms and tumbling to decay; So be beginning, be beginning to despair. Morgan's Sonnets were one of a number of important works in all the literary genres and an impressive quantity of archival research into Scotland's literature, music, painting and other forms of cultural production by numerous writers, critics and scholars, that appeared in the 1980s and 1990s.
The poem ends with the river rushing forward beyond vision, and the poet, with the wagtail and robin, left behind: Once, with my boy's body little I knew But her furious thresh on my flesh; But now I can know her through and through And, light like, her tide enmesh. What would the world be, once bereftOf wet and of wildness? None of them demonstrate the specific influence of Hopkins but in their astonishing variety they demonstrate the virtuosity of a writer who matches his own description of Hopkins: 'a man who was a poet to his finger-tips'. But you would also find a radical challenge to nineteenth-century conventions of versification and poetic form, especially if you were used to Tennyson and the familiar beat of the late Victorian metronome. In poetry, something else happens. In his twenties, he converted to Roman Catholicism and trained as a Jesuit priest, abandoning thoughts of continuing to write.