Sir Walter Ralegh's "Methought I saw the grave where Laura lay"

No need to break this poem apart (although it is pretty cool that the book happened to fall on a poem about the Fairy Queen):

"Methought I saw the grave where Laura lay,

Within that temple of vestel flame

Was wont to burn; and passing by that way

To see that buried dust of living fame,

Whose tomb fair love and fairer virtue kept,

All suddenly I saw the Fairy Queen;

At whose approach the soul of Petrarch wept,

And from thenceforth those graces were not seen,

For they this Queen; in whose stead

Oblivion laid him down on Laura's Hearse.

Hereat the hardest stones were seen to bleed,

And groans of buried ghosts the heavens did pierce;

Where Homer's sprite did tremble for grief,

And cursed th' access of that celestial thief."

To be honest, I don't like this sonnet; it doesn't seem that well-crafted . . . and Spenser never finsihed his epic . . . I wonder if Ralegh would have still written this if he would have known that

. . . Did Petrarch write epics (I don't know . . . I assume he did since there is that comparsion)

Took me awhile to get the title . . . but I get and it's a great jab . . . Petrarch is dead . . . welcome the new and the better: Spenser!

Homer is better than Spenser in my belief, but I won't fault Ralegh for that . . . at least Ralegh admits to what Spenser is: a mimic.

I also find it odd that Ralegh didn't use the Spenser's spelling for the Fairy Queen. How can you praise something and not at least spell it the same way the author does (I remember Tolkein had a fit when the publishers tried to change his plural spellings for dwarves and elves (which are now the accepted way) . . . I would take Ralegh more seriousily if he mentioned something about the cantos (or at least used some of Spenser's archiac spellings)

Edward Hyde's From The History of the Rebellion

Best comic strip ever by the way (at least since Calvin and Hobbes and Peanuts)

and look at me look at me ("i can ride a bike with no handlebars" - anyone who can tell me who sings that (without cheating) gets a free drink at Hemingway's!)

and to relate this to the material . . . Oliver Cromwell is not as lucky as Lio . . .

I found this a very interesting read . . . especially since the author was an opponent of Cromwell. It seems as if this a very praiseworthy piece; but at the same time, it's not . . . it seemed like the author tried to be fair . . .

Latin shit (and Italian?) that I like with a translation . . .

ne inimici quidem possunt, nisi ut simul laudent (Whom not even his enemies could curse without praising him)

Ausum eum quae nemo auderet bonus, perfecisse quae a nullo nist a nullo nisi fortissimo perfici possunt (He dared undertake what no good man would have tried, and triumphed where only the strongest men could have succeeded)

And the author uses the word wick so often I can't tell if he means it in a good or bad way . . .

But it was cool to find out that England's enemies feared him.

And Cromwell was a smart man . . . the commonwealth is what matters and how dare judges and lawyors opposse him on principles sence they serve with his blessing . . . a very fearful autocratic idea . . . (that's still used today . . . I personally prefer freedom over security . . . )

I really like the last line:

"In a word, as he had all the wicednessess against which damnation is denounced and for which hellfire is prepared, so he had some virtues which have caused the memory of some men in all ages to be celebrated, and he will be looked opon posterity as a brave, bad man."

Like that . . . mizture of revulsion and respect which you really do not see to often especially when one man is the enemy of the other . . .

Ben Johnson's "Epitaph on S.P., a Child of Queen's Elizabeth's Chapel"

i'll divide this into fours for better analyzation . . .

"Weep with me, all you that read

This little story

And know for whom a tear you shed,

Death's self is sorry."

So . . . this child (who acted in Ben Johnson's troupe for three seasons) died . . . and not only is he upset, but the readers should be upset and even Death is upset.

"'Twas a child that so did thrive

In grace and feature,

as Heaven and Nature seemed to strive

which owned the creature."

Ok . . . the child was so wonderful that Heaven and Nature (even though they "owned" him) sought to emulate him.

"Years he numbered scarce thirteen

When fates turned cruel,

Yet three filled zodiacs had he been

The stage's jewel;"

The death of a child is horrible and evenmoreso in this case because he was the star (or at least Ben Johnson says he was)

"And did act (what now we moan)

Old men so duly,

As, sooth the Parcae thought him one,

He played so truly."

The child was the envy of those even with more experience . . . and this envy even transcending the mortal world because even the Fates were impressed.

"So, by error, to his fate

They all consented;

But viewing him since (alas, too late)

They have repented"

The Fates made a mistake, but since the the child was so "everything" they wanted to keep him.

"And have sought (to give new birth)

In baths to steep him;

But, being so much too good for earth,

Heaven vows to keep him."

The boy is just too perfect for this earth . . .

I really liked this poem . . . I think Ben Jonson did this boy a great service. My only question is why did Jonson use initials instead of the boy's full name? What is the style of epitaphs back then? the fact that Ben Jonson used initials is really my only problem with the poem. It makes me think that he didn't know the boy's name . . .

John Donne's "The Undertaking"

For this . . .
I'm going to interpret this poem, stanza by stanza . . .

"I have done one braver thing

Than all the Worthies did,

And yet a braver thence doth spring,

Which is, to keep that hid."

So . . . the narrator has done something greater than the the nine heroes of old and from that something even greater than that happened . . .

"It were but madness now t'impart

The skill of specular stone,

When he which can have learned the art

To cut it, can fine none."

The narrator knows a lost secret, but it's pretty pointless because it doesn't work anymore . . .

"So, if I now should utter this,

Others (because no more

Such stuff to work upon, there is)

Would love but as before."

I think this is about just admiring craftmanship or pretty things and it doesn't matter if can't be done anymore. The "others" aren't concerned with the process; they're just concerned with the finished product.

"But he who loveliness within

Hath found, all outward loathes,

For he who color loves, and skin,

Loves but the oldest clothes."

To carry the conceit further . . . men should not be concerned with the trappings of women (or the process) which makes them beautiful because the real beauty is in the color and the skin . . . and at least with the oldest clothes (because they're probably a bit tattered and whatnot) one can still glimpse what lies beneath.

"If, as I have, you also do

Virtue attired in woman see,

And dare love that, and say so too,

And forget the He and She;"

The point of this is respect. Women are virtuous, so don't break that . . . don't ruin that (for if you love what lies beneath then you're a bit forced to love the outer (with the conceit, you can admire the finished product; but at the same time, you're forced to admire what makes it so)).

"And if this love, though placed so,

From profane men you hide,

Which will no faith on this bestow,

Or, if they do, deride;"

What's the point of sharing this new thing with the players and the pimps and the one-night stand kind of guys. They don't get it . . . they don't understand . . . so what's the point?

"Then you have done a braver thing

Than all the Worthies did;

And a braver thing will spring,

which is to keep it hid."

A gentlemen doesn't kiss and tell and I think that's the point of this poem, but I like the fact of how Donne explains it. You love something so much, you just want to spread it to the world (every detail). but . . . love requires you to not do that and it's hard sometimes . . . but . . . it's a braver thing than all the worthies did . . . to give into love . . . and still have respect for your love a the same time . . .

Lucy Hutchinson's :" From Memoirs if Colonel Hutchinson"

Since I am so far behind in my blog posts . . .
and wanted to look at new things . . .
I have decided to treat my textbook like my pastor told me to treat the Bible.
When you have problems trying to read it . . . just drop and read where it lands . . .
I found this really interesting . . .
look at this line: "My lord, hearing that there was some question concerning the county's powder, I am come to kiss your lordship's hands, and to beseech you that I may know your desires and intents are concerning it?"
This whole thing astounds and confounds me . . .
The Puritans are being harassed and they are about to be defenseless; yet, their leader is so polite and formal. It blows my mind. I mean this is taken from a diary so it's gotta be at at least somewhat factual. It almost came to blows . . . but the Colonel and the Lord acted like gentlemen the whole time.
I like this because it takes me back to the stuff I read about the South in the 19th century. The shit is hitting the fan, but they still act like gentlemen.
This colonel reminds me of the Hemingway hero: "Grace under pressure".
This passage almost seems more tense because it's so formal and polite . . .
And I also find it really interesting that (because of politics) this book wasn't published until the early 1800s. What little I know of the Puritan Revolution, I know it was bad (sorta like an early less extreme (more right then left) French Revolution), but I would have thought that old wounds would heal a little quicker than that.

in defense

ok . . . my skit did not go as well as I thought it would . . .

but i swear, I sold the idea to many friends and family and they all liked it (with the exception of mother (should of listen to her . . . )

but listen . . .

Shakespeare's plays were like the adult swim or south park

they were naughty . . .

they were bad . . .

I tried to have the same effect but amping it up . . .

people use to drink and throw things and make fun of the actors and get into fights (it was like a viewing of the Rocky Horror Show)

the only difference between my jokes and Shakespeare's is the fact (outside Shakespeare's genius) that most people don't get the penis or sex jokes or anything else because it's 400 years old . . .

I was trying to have fun . . .

and I felt like I was in high school again with people looking at me in disbelief . . .

but listen to this:

"These gatherings had been the ocassions of frays and quarrels, evil practices of incontinency in great inns; the playes published uncomely and unshamefast speeches and doings, withdrew the Queen's subjects from divine service on Sunday's and Holidays, wasted the money of the poor and fond persons, gave opportunity to pick pockets, utter busy and seditious matters, and injured and maimed people by falling of their scaffolds and by weapons and powders used in plays" what the Common Council thought of plays (taken from the general introduction of the Complete Works of Shakespeare, editor David Bevington 5ed)

I had all that in mind when I did my skit . . .

wasn't trying to be a smartass or jackass

everything had purpose

just trying to mimic what Shakespeare would have been like in the Renaissance era

well at least I took a risk, had a bit of fun and went down in flames

after a long haitus . . .

I'm going to discuss Lanyer's "The Description of Cooke-ham . . .
I didn't really get this poem until the very end of class . . .
I didn't see how the Lanyer stole the kiss from the tree (until Dr. Kilgore pointed it out). Cooke-ham was dying, but a kiss from"that grace where perfect grace remained" (who "walk, with Christ and his apostles there to talk") would've save Cooke-ham. Lanier (according to the introduction) had a very hard life after she left Cooke-ham. An illegitimate child. No patrons. Poor. And come to think of it, she didn't really live up to the ideal she expoused either. It's no wonder she looked back at Cooke-ham favorably.
Look at the last lines . . . (after the stolen kiss I see something a bit different)
"Whose virtues lodge in my unworthy breast,
And ever shall, so long as life remains,
Tying my life to her by there rich chains"
The footnote says that the chains mean virtues, but I disagree.
Point 1- the lady of Cooke-ham showed, but did not deliver the good life to Lanyer so she is ever longing, ever-seeking, trying to get above her station (i.e. bound by rich chains).
or point 2- the stolen kiss doomed her life and now she must reap the conquences (i.e. still bound by rich chains.)