Sonnet 78
Paul Crowley
that the second quatrain of this sonnet is about the
other great glory of the Elizabethan age -- its music.
I said I'd check the libraries, and I have now found
a few more items of interest. My earlier comments
on the second quatrain were over several posts,
so I'll bring them all together here.
No one expressed criticism of my exegesis before,
and I doubt if anyone will now. It is indisputably
correct in substance. It proves, beyond doubt,
that the addressee was the Queen, that the poet
was Oxford, and that sonnet was written between
1575 and 1585.
1. So oft have I invoked thee for my Muse,
2. And found such fair assistance in my verse
3. As every <it>Alien</it> pen hath got my use
4. And under thee their poesy disperse.
5. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
6. And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
7. Have added feathers to the learned's wing
8. And given grace a double Majesty.
9. Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
10. Whose influence is thine, and born of thee:
11. In others' works thou dost but mend the style,
12. And Arts with thy sweet graces graced be;
13. But thou art all my art, and dost advance
14. As high as learning, my rude ignorance
The music was principally represented in the persons
of Thomas Tallis (1505-1585) and his pupil, William
Byrd (1543-1623).
"The music in the queen's own chapel was superb, not
least because two of her organists, Thomas Tallis and
William Byrd, were among the greatest composers of
sacred music England has ever known. Both were crypto-
Catholics, but in recognition of their genius Elizabeth kept
them in her service and protected them from the full rigour
of the recusancy laws." (Anne Somerset, page 370)
Tallis had been an organist at Waltham Abbey
and joined the Chapel Royal around 1540 on the
dissolution of the abbeys. Byrd was appointed as
joint-organist by Elizabeth in 1572
5. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
'Thine eyes' in this line almost certainly puns on
the appearance of printed music notes. These
were 'thine' in the sense that the Queen had
the power to decide who did the printing (and
later she gave a monopoly to Tallis and Byrd).
'Thine eyes' also probably puns on "thine 'Ay's "
and "thine 'I's ". The Queen had set out a liberal
policy towards music from the first days of her
reign. The 'Quene Majesties Injunctions' of
1559 had allowed:
"for the comforting of such that delight in music, it may
be permitted that in the beginning, or in the end of
common prayers, eyther at mornyng or evevyng, there
may be sung an hymne, or such like songue, to the
praise of almighty God, in the best sort of melody and
musicke that may be conveniently devised, havyng
respect that the sentence of the Hymne be
understanded and perceyved. "
The Queen had also agreed to petitions by the
composers for their appointments, the printing
monopoly, and (when that turned out to be
unprofitable) their continued support.
'Thine eyes' would also have had a direct sense,
in that the Queen had a passionate interest in
music and her expression (at, say, a bad note)
would have had a powerful effect.
5 . . . . . . . . .taught the dumb on high to sing
Tallis was known for his quietness (his epitaph
records: "As he did lyve, so also did he dy,
In mild and quyet sort "). Hence the 'dumb on
high' (organs being mounted high).
However, there is a wider sense, in that early in her
reign, the Puritans silenced (and often destroyed)
church organs. They were 'dumb' in that sense.
However, she did what she could to resist the
Puritans, especially as regards her own chapel.
Also, in another sense, Tallis's work shows a
dramatic improvement late in his career. Oxford
seemingly attributes that to the Queen or, at least,
to the inspiration she provided.
http://utopia.knoware.nl/~jsmeets/cgi-bin/ccd.cgi?comp=tallis
"The motets by Tallis published in the "Cantiones sacrae"
of 1575 show a marked advance in style compared with the
work of the pre-Elisabethan composers. In this collection
Tallis exhibited those qualities which have made his name
so famous; and some of these same motets, for instance
the "Miserere nostri", and constructed with that marvellous
cantrapuntal skill in which both he and Byrd were supreme."
6. And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
The phrase 'heavy ignorance' is difficult. It seems
most likely that the poet is referring to the new
popular fashions in church music that had become
established from the late 1560s.
The question of what should be sung in church
and in what manner was of crucial ideological
significance. "In a wave of Puritan feeling in late
1560s, most surviving parochial choirs were swept
away, organs were pulled down, plainsong and
chanting were condemned in sermons, and
metrical psalms became the only form of music
generally used in church." (Groves Dict. Music
Vol 15, page 358)
This 'metrical singing' of the psalms was, I
suggest, the 'heavy ignorance'. Words and music
for all the psalms were printed -- in a heavy gothic
style -- in a volume by Thomas Sternhold and
John Hopkins (1569) which was often bound up
with the Bible or Prayer Book. The music was
simple and linked to the words on a note-per-
syllable basis. The tunes were, it seems, based
on popular ballads of the time, and were
condemned by the Queen and others as
'Geneva jigs'.
The poet was also probably referring to Calvin's
dictum about religious singing: "Poids et majeste,
modere et moedeste", where I take 'poids' to be
'weighty'. See:
http://spindleworks.com/music/rmj/sweelinck.htm
' In 1561 the complete Psalter appeared in print. The
melodies were skilfully composed by the cantors Louis
Bourgeois and a certain "Maistre Pierre". Simple, but
grand tunes they were, worthy to be sung "in the
presence of God and His angels." Many of the melodies
had Gregorian precursors, but some of them were
originally secular tunes. Revamped they conformed to
Calvin's dictum: "Poids et majeste, modere et
moedeste." . . . '
However, in the Queen's private chapel her crypto-
catholic organists maintained and developed their
highly sophisticated polyphonic traditions.
6. . . . heavy ignorance ALOFT to fly,
The 'aloft' refers to the position of the organ, but
also there is, highly probably, a pun on 'Tallis' in
'tallet' or 'tallat' meaning 'loft' (see OED).
6. . . . . . . . . . aloft TO FLY,
The 'to fly' is a complex pun with at least four clear
senses: (a) the greater vivacity and complexity of
the music of the Chapel Royal after about 1570;
(b) the attachment to Tallis of Byrd (as 'bird').
(c) 'To fly' also has a highly relevant sense in printing:
OED 2 (of verb) "to do the office of . . . a printer's
devil: a person who takes sheets from the press,
the 'taker-off' . " This is a reference to the grant by
Elizabeth on Jan. 22, 1575 to Tallis and Byrd of an
exclusive licence by letters-patent giving them the
sole right for printing sheet music and music
paper in England.
(d) ' fly ' = ' fugue '
http://www.stmartins.org/music/music101_forms_weddings.htm
" Fugue . : Literally "to fly". A polyphonic procedure that
depends heavily on the imitation and reappearance
of a short melodic theme (the "subject"). In addition
to repetition and contrast in the melodic material,
the fugue involves considerable modulation of keys.
Returns to original key at the end. Steps to the fully
developed Baroque fugal form: In the Renaissance,
imitation. In the Middle Ages, canon. . . "
7. Have added feathers to the learned's wing
Puns on the co-appointment of Byrd (as 'bird')
are too tempting for this poet, so they are
extended in Line 7 with 'added feathers'.
An important sense here may be that Byrd
encouraged Tallis to produce more written
compositions, with 'feathers' meaning quill-
pens.
Also feathers were commonly a decoration,
or an honour, and Byrd could be said to have
honoured and decorated the reputation and
work of Tallis. Further, feathers often make
things lighter; and that was the trend in the
music of the time.
Another possible reference here could be the
stamping by Elizabeth of her emblem -- a
crowned and sceptered falcon -- on the covers
of all her books. (The covers can be seen as
the 'wings' of a book.)
7. . . . . . . to the learned's wing
'To the learned's wing' is another pun on 'Tallis':
'talisman' -- a turk learned in divinity or law, a
mullah; (see OED).
'Wing' also probably refers to the location and/or
the role of second organ (or keyboard). Tallis,
as the senior, would, initially at least, have taken
the principal organ and Byrd the secondary one.
8. And given grace a double Majesty.
The major reference to 'grace' is to that of Her
Majesty -- who was usually addressed as 'Your
Grace'. The 'double majesty' of 'grace' is that of
the monarch; to which Elizabeth added another
layer, with her encouragement of the music.
A minor reference here would be to 'grace
notes' which are common in music. (The OED's
first record is 1657, but the term had probably
long been in use.)
The principal senses of 'double' are to the
co-appointment of Byrd to make two great
'majestic' organists to the Chapel Royal and,
I suggest, to the installation of a 'double organ'
(one with two keyboards) in the Chapel Royal
at about this time. No record for such an
installation seems to exist, however double
organs were common on the Continent at this
time, and one would seem highly likely in the
Chapel Royal for the two great organists.
(There is a record indicating that a double
organ was installed in Barking in 1519, and
one is known in Worcester Cathedral in 1613.)
Byrd is known to have had close associations
with aristocrats, and both his music and his
Catholicism are likely to have been congenial
to Oxford, who was high in the Queen's favour
prior to, and at the time of, his appointment.
"From his first years in the chapel and on through the
next two decades, Byrd is found in association with
important persons. Powerful Elizabethan lords figure
among the dedicatees of his various publications
and are known to have interceded him a number of
occasions. The Earl of Worcester and. the Petre
family were to become his special patrons. In 1579
the Earl of Northumberland mentioned that Byrd was
teaching his daughter. Around 1573 or 1574 he
obtained the lease of Battails Hall in Stapleford Abbot,
Essex, from the Earl of Oxford, the poet; this was the
first of several properties that plunged Byrd into
endless litigation. Among his song texts are poems
by Oxford, Sidney, Thomas Watson and Sir Edward
Dyer, including some which he could only have come
by as a result of direct contact with the advanced poets
of the l570s and 1580s. The same is true of certain
anonymous song texts with a decided 'literary' flavour."
(Groves Dictionary of Music)
- - - - - - - - - - -
On another issue in this sonnet, I have a further
suggestion about the meaning of the italicised
word 'Alien' (also with a capital 'A') in Line 3.
3. As every <it>Alien</it> pen hath got my use
Previously I have proposed that it could have
been a reference to the foreigners in the
employment of Ralegh (especially French
Huguenots, but there were others, including
Portuguese, Irish and Welsh). However, there
is another sense in which Ralegh's work
could be said to be 'alien'. In July 1585, he
was appointed Lord Warden of the Stannaries
which gave him a role as a kind of quasi-
monarch of a 'foreign state'.
"Ralegh took his duties seriously. He appointed his elder
brother Carew as Vice-Warden, to deal with routine matters
in his own absence. He drew up regulations and standards
for the mines, which lasted long after his lifetime. He stoutly
defended the miners interests against pressure from the
Crown and other authorities. He made it clear that decisions
on the miners' welfare and responsibilities were his, as Lord
Warden, and his alone. For example, on 15th February 1592
he was writing from Durham House to his 'very loving friends
the Justices of the Peace of the County of Devon', who had
rashly suggested that the miners should contribute towards
the cost of repairing a bridge at Okehampton. Ralegh
disagreed and said that if the Justices persisted he would
take the case to the Privy Council. Only then, if their Lordships
judged that the miners should pay, would Ralegh cause the
miners to yield. And even then, Ralegh added a pointed
postscript: 'I will myself give order that the tinners shall
contribute unto the bridge if upon examination I find cause
to urge thereunto, but not by any foreign authority.' . . "
(Ralegh, John Winton, page 62)
The use of 'Alien' in the sonnet would have
referred to this 'alien state' and been something
of an ironic joke by the poet. (This is still IMO
not enough to justify the italicisation, which
usually indicates a name. I feel that there is
something more which, of course, we may
never identify.)
However, if my suggestion is correct here, it
would date the composition to between July
and November of 1585. Ralegh became Lord
Warden in July and Thomas Tallis died on 23
November -- the sonnet seems to imply he is
alive at the time of writing.
Paul.
--
Email: pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)
Robert Stonehouse
...
>No one expressed criticism of my exegesis before,
>and I doubt if anyone will now. It is indisputably
>correct in substance. It proves, beyond doubt,
>that the addressee was the Queen, that the poet
>was Oxford, and that sonnet was written between
>1575 and 1585.
First, I did respond to Paul Crowley at the time in two postings, by
the end of which it was getting tedious.
Secondly, I protest at the use of such expressions as "indisputably
correct" and "beyond doubt" in a matter of personal speculation.
No-one who reads the poem need be abashed at failing to find any
reference to the Queen, Raleigh or Tallis and Byrd in it.
Controversies on Usenet soon become bitter, dull and unproductive
and it would be a pity to start one of those. But there is a danger
that the public may be misled or put off. People are not unworthy to
read the Sonnets just because they can't think up far-fetched
interpretations like this. The contrary, in fact.
ew...@bcs.org.uk
Paul Crowley
> "Paul Crowley" <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> wrote:
> ...
> >No one expressed criticism of my exegesis before,
> >and I doubt if anyone will now. It is indisputably
> >correct in substance. It proves, beyond doubt,
> >that the addressee was the Queen, that the poet
> >was Oxford, and that sonnet was written between
> >1575 and 1585.
> ...
> First, I did respond to Paul Crowley at the time in two postings, by
> the end of which it was getting tedious.
Firstly, only one posting reached my server (and
reached Google's). You are probably adding in
your original analysis, which had nothing to do
with mine. This is the record of the thread from
Google:
1 bookburn 21 Dec 2001
|-2 Robert Stonehouse 22 Dec 2001
\-3 Paul Crowley 22 Dec 2001
\-4 Robert Stonehouse 23 Dec 2001
|-5 Paul Crowley 24 Dec 2001
\-6 Paul Crowley 24 Dec 2001
\-7 Paul Crowley 26 Dec 2001
Secondly, it was not at all tedious, since I worked
out my interpretation over the course of several
postings; my first one did little more than indicate
phrases which needed further investigation, and
it was _that_ to which you 'responded' in that
single post of yours.
Thirdly, you "responded" in much the same manner
as you do here -- with a complete absence of
criticism of my exegesis -- except in the most
general of terms . . . ."no one should even think of
working along these lines . . . ".
> Secondly, I protest at the use of such expressions as "indisputably
> correct" and "beyond doubt" in a matter of personal speculation.
That is, of course, my opinion. You are free to show
where I have gone wrong. If I am mistaken, it should
be extremely easy to prove. First negatively: you could
demonstrate how the words would have been quite
inappropriate to the scenario I present for the period
1575-85. Or alternatively, it should be easy to apply
the words of the sonnet to some other period. Why
not, for example, indicate how the poet's phrases
could just as well fit the period and the actions of
Queen Anne and the work of Orlando Gibbons
around 1605?
> No-one who reads the poem need be abashed at failing to find any
> reference to the Queen, Raleigh or Tallis and Byrd in it.
They should abashed if the references are
clear -- as they are.
> Controversies on Usenet soon become bitter, dull and unproductive
> and it would be a pity to start one of those.
But it is very wrong to refuse to discuss new ideas
merely because an argument might ensue. In any
case, there is little danger of anything "bitter, dull
and unproductive" here. We are concerned with
purely factual issues. Do the words of this sonnet
match the scenario I propose or don't they? OR are
they so vague that they could readily match another?
Are those questions hard?
> But there is a danger
> that the public may be misled or put off. People are not unworthy to
> read the Sonnets just because they can't think up far-fetched
> interpretations like this. The contrary, in fact.
If I have posted anything far-fetched on Sonnet
78, then I want to know about it.
Somehow, I am fairly sure that you won't get
around to telling me -- except in terms that are
as general and as vague as possible. And
nor will any other Strat.
KQKnave
<pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
> Why
>not, for example, indicate how the poet's phrases
>could just as well fit the period and the actions of
>Queen Anne and the work of Orlando Gibbons
>around 1605?
>
The sonnets up through 126 were not written to the Queen or
even a woman, but to a man. This has been pointed out
repeatedly to Crowley, but his fantasies continue to overwhelm
him. That the sonnets were written to a young man is
obvious from the sonnets themselves, which makes Crowley's
thesis so obviously insane:
Sonnet 3:
"For where is she so fair whose uneared womb/
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?"; Sonnet
9: "Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye/ That thou consum'st
thyself in single life?"; Sonnet 16: "And many maiden
gardens yet unset,/ With virtuous wish would bear your
living flowers."; Sonnet 20:
A woman's face with nature's own hand painted,
Hast thou the master mistress of my passion,
A woman's gentle heart but not acquainted
With shifting change as is false women's fashion,
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling:
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth,
A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created,
Till nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure,
Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
Sonnet 32:
"O then vouchsafe me but this loving thought,
'Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age,
A dearer birth than this his love had brought
To march in ranks of better equipage:
But since he died and poets better prove,
Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love'.";
Sonnet 33: "Even so my sun one early morn did shine,
With all triumphant splendour on my brow,
But out alack, he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud hath masked him from me now.
Yet him for this, my love no whit disdaineth,";
Sonnet 41: "Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed.
And when a woman woos, what woman's son,
Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed?
Ay me, but yet thou mightst my seat forbear,
And chide thy beauty, and thy straying youth,
Who lead thee in their riot even there
Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth:
Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,";
Sonnet 42: "That thou hast her it is not all my grief,
And yet it may be said I loved her dearly,
That she hath thee is of my wailing chief,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye,
Thou dost love her, because thou know'st I love her,";
Sonnet 54: "And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,";
Sonnet 126: "O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy pow'r/
Dost hold time's fickle glass."
See for yourself that the Droeshout portrait is not unusual at all!
http://hometown.aol.com/kqknave/shakenbake.html
Agent Jim
Robert Stonehouse
and 26th. It is not important, except that your statement that
nobody disagrees with you should be amended.
>
>Secondly, it was not at all tedious, since I worked
>out my interpretation over the course of several
>postings; my first one did little more than indicate
>phrases which needed further investigation, and
>it was _that_ to which you 'responded' in that
>single post of yours.
between us was getting tedious.
>
>Thirdly, you "responded" in much the same manner
>as you do here -- with a complete absence of
>criticism of my exegesis -- except in the most
>general of terms . . . ."no one should even think of
>working along these lines . . . ".
principles.
>
>> Secondly, I protest at the use of such expressions as "indisputably
>> correct" and "beyond doubt" in a matter of personal speculation.
>
>That is, of course, my opinion. You are free to show
>where I have gone wrong. If I am mistaken, it should
>be extremely easy to prove. First negatively: you could
>demonstrate how the words would have been quite
>inappropriate to the scenario I present for the period
>1575-85. Or alternatively, it should be easy to apply
>the words of the sonnet to some other period. Why
>not, for example, indicate how the poet's phrases
>could just as well fit the period and the actions of
>Queen Anne and the work of Orlando Gibbons
>around 1605?
us to composers of music - why not try Inigo Jones, or Nicholas
Hilliard? There is probably no situation we can invent for which
there are not multiple instances in real life.
>
>> No-one who reads the poem need be abashed at failing to find any
>> reference to the Queen, Raleigh or Tallis and Byrd in it.
>
>They should abashed if the references are
>clear -- as they are.
These people are not in the poem and they are not needed in order to
understand it. You are striving to solve a problem that does not
exist.
>
>> Controversies on Usenet soon become bitter, dull and unproductive
>> and it would be a pity to start one of those.
>
>But it is very wrong to refuse to discuss new ideas
>merely because an argument might ensue. In any
>case, there is little danger of anything "bitter, dull
>and unproductive" here. We are concerned with
>purely factual issues. Do the words of this sonnet
>match the scenario I propose or don't they? OR are
>they so vague that they could readily match another?
>
>Are those questions hard?
>
>> But there is a danger
>> that the public may be misled or put off. People are not unworthy to
>> read the Sonnets just because they can't think up far-fetched
>> interpretations like this. The contrary, in fact.
>
>If I have posted anything far-fetched on Sonnet
>78, then I want to know about it.
>
>Somehow, I am fairly sure that you won't get
>around to telling me -- except in terms that are
>as general and as vague as possible. And
>nor will any other Strat.
fit a political situation involving various famous people. There is
no point in doing it. None of these people are identified in the
poem, or in any of the sonnets.
These poems were kept unpublished for a while, but it was not the
intention that they should never be published. They were to be read
by posterity. If they cannot be understood without a political key,
which it has taken until now to discover, then they are bad poems.
They do not fulfil their purpose.
There were poems that required a political key, for example
Skelton's Parrot and Drayton's Owl. But both those make it plain
from the start that they are talking in riddles. Shakespeare's
sonnets are difficult, and they include small riddles: he loves to
say something in a way that looks as if it meant A, and then
surprise us in the next line by making it mean B instead. But there
is no indication of a political type of riddle. If we solve the
small riddles, we can understand the poem. There is no need for
politics, except in a very few cases like "the mortal moon".
Political interpretations fall under Occam's Razor.
ew...@bcs.org.uk
Paul Crowley
> "Paul Crowley" <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> wrote:
> >> >No one expressed criticism of my exegesis before,
> >> >and I doubt if anyone will now. It is indisputably
> >> >correct in substance. It proves, beyond doubt,
> >> >that the addressee was the Queen, that the poet
> >> >was Oxford, and that sonnet was written between
> >> >1575 and 1585.
> >> ...
> >> First, I did respond to Paul Crowley at the time in two postings, by
> >> the end of which it was getting tedious.
> >
> >Firstly, only one posting reached my server (and
> >reached Google's). You are probably adding in
> >your original analysis, which had nothing to do
> >with mine. This is the record of the thread from
> >Google:
> >
> >1 bookburn 21 Dec 2001
> >|-2 Robert Stonehouse 22 Dec 2001
> >\-3 Paul Crowley 22 Dec 2001
> > \-4 Robert Stonehouse 23 Dec 2001
> > |-5 Paul Crowley 24 Dec 2001
> > \-6 Paul Crowley 24 Dec 2001
> > \-7 Paul Crowley 26 Dec 2001
> The dates I have for my postings are 18th (first paraphrase) 19th
> and 26th.
You had the date on your computer set wrongly for
a while. (Since Bookburn started the thread on 21st,
you could not have posted on 19th). But if you made
three posts to this thread, it seems that no one else
has seen your last post (for _your_ 26th).
> It is not important, except that your statement that
> nobody disagrees with you should be amended.
People express disagreement . . but I'm looking for
criticism. There is a difference. KQKnave spouts
off like a geyser, but that's just a routine back-
ground noise to which no one pays any
attention.
> >Thirdly, you "responded" in much the same manner
> >as you do here -- with a complete absence of
> >criticism of my exegesis -- except in the most
> >general of terms . . . ."no one should even think of
> >working along these lines . . . ".
> I did not use those words. But I do think you start from wrong
> principles.
Sorry, I should have said I was paraphrasing.
> >> Secondly, I protest at the use of such expressions as "indisputably
> >> correct" and "beyond doubt" in a matter of personal speculation.
> >
> >That is, of course, my opinion. You are free to show
> >where I have gone wrong. If I am mistaken, it should
> >be extremely easy to prove. First negatively: you could
> >demonstrate how the words would have been quite
> >inappropriate to the scenario I present for the period
> >1575-85. Or alternatively, it should be easy to apply
> >the words of the sonnet to some other period. Why
> >not, for example, indicate how the poet's phrases
> >could just as well fit the period and the actions of
> >Queen Anne and the work of Orlando Gibbons
> >around 1605?
> Yes, why not? Except that there is nothing in the poem to confine
> us to composers of music -
There is plenty indicating music: 'thine eyes',
'to sing', 'aloft to fly', 'grace . . . Majesty'.
5. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
6. And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
7. Have added feathers to the learned's wing
8. And given grace a double Majesty.
> why not try Inigo Jones, or Nicholas
> Hilliard? There is probably no situation we can invent for which
> there are not multiple instances in real life.
I can fit numerous words and phrases to Tallis
and Byrd in the period 1575-85. What can you
fit to Inigo Jones or to Hilliard? You don't
attempt it, because your know that the results
would be manifestly absurd. You would
scarcely find a word or phrase to match their
time and situation. I (or anyone else) could
easily pull it to pieces. But you _don't_ and
you _can't_ begin to do that with mine.
> >They should abashed if the references are
> >clear -- as they are.
> In a sense perhaps - they are transparent, we can see through them.
> These people are not in the poem and they are not needed in order to
> understand it. You are striving to solve a problem that does not
> exist.
There is a world of a difference between the
sense you extract and that of mine. Mine is
far richer and more complex. (Of course you
will think it wrong, but you make not a single
effort to prove your case.)
> >If I have posted anything far-fetched on Sonnet
> >78, then I want to know about it.
> >
> >Somehow, I am fairly sure that you won't get
> >around to telling me -- except in terms that are
> >as general and as vague as possible. And
> >nor will any other Strat.
>
> What you have done, now and before, is to strain the poem to make it
> fit a political situation involving various famous people.
Show the strain. If it's there, it should
scream out.
> There is
> no point in doing it. None of these people are identified in the
> poem, or in any of the sonnets.
They are not explicitly identified. If they were,
we'd not be having this discussion. But then
the sonnets would never have been published
either.
> These poems were kept unpublished for a while, but it was not the
> intention that they should never be published. They were to be read
> by posterity. If they cannot be understood without a political key,
> which it has taken until now to discover, then they are bad poems.
> They do not fulfil their purpose.
That does not follow. Their complexity and much
of their beauty can be seen without knowing their
reference. In fact, their obscurity lends some
attraction -- they become quite mysterious. The
words are astonishing, even inexplicable. Yet we
sense that they are 'right' although we don't know
why. We are like small children loving the words
of a nursery rhyme, with very little comprehension
of its meaning. When their sense is pointed out,
then much of the mystery goes. We DO lose
something (of course, we gain far more -- but in
a completely different direction.) Perhaps it
would be nice to remain children all our lives.
> There were poems that required a political key, for example
> Skelton's Parrot and Drayton's Owl. But both those make it plain
> from the start that they are talking in riddles. Shakespeare's
> sonnets are difficult, and they include small riddles: he loves to
> say something in a way that looks as if it meant A, and then
> surprise us in the next line by making it mean B instead.
You seem completely assured that he was only
writing for US. While I think he was writing partly
for us, I am certain that he had another audience
in mind. That is why they are so obscure. He
could not allow their meaning to be clear. They
would never have been published if the identity
of the poet and the addressee had been obvious
to educated persons of the day.
> But there
> is no indication of a political type of riddle.
As you admit, there is a clear indication of a
'political' type of riddle in Sonnet 107. Why
can't you admit the possibility elsewhere as
well -- perhaps where the poet did not want
to make the riddling too obvious.
> If we solve the
> small riddles, we can understand the poem.
That statement is entirely at odds with the facts.
There is no consensus whatever about what
the sonnets mean.
> There is no need for
> politics, except in a very few cases like "the mortal moon".
That may be what you want to believe. But there
is no reason why it should be true. You give no
real reasons to justify your argument.
> Political interpretations fall under Occam's Razor.
That might be true IF you had clear interpretations
of more than a fraction of the sonnets. You
manifestly don't. You can find a hundred different
interpretations of Sonnet 78. Only one is firmly
tied to the culture of the times.
KQKnave
<pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
>You can find a hundred different
>interpretations of Sonnet 78. Only one is firmly
>tied to the culture of the times.
>
Nonsense. The sonnets are primarily fiction,
and there need be no correspondence at all
to the times, unless some true believer wants
to see something.
Robert Stonehouse
>Robert Stonehouse <ew...@bcs.org.uk> wrote in message news:3c5d083e...@news.demon.co.uk...
>> "Paul Crowley" <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> wrote:
>> What you have done, now and before, is to strain the poem to make it
>> fit a political situation involving various famous people.
>
>Show the strain. If it's there, it should
>scream out.
that your basic premise is impossible - the Sonnets as a whole
cannot possibly have been addressed to the Queen. I do not need to
add to what he has said.
...
>> If we solve the
>> small riddles, we can understand the poem.
>
>That statement is entirely at odds with the facts.
>There is no consensus whatever about what
>the sonnets mean.
every word. But among people who examine the words and avoid wild
speculation, the differences are not enormous. I use four
commentaries and have no great difficulty with them, though one
disagrees with another from time to time and every now and then I
think they have all missed a point. These are manageable
differences.
The farther we get away from the words, the more we get involved
with things outside the poems, the greater the differences become.
Some people think they were addressed to the Queen by the Earl of
Oxford, some think he wrote them, but to someone else, some think
Bacon wrote them, or Marlowe or various others. And in each case,
who wrote them is fundamentally tied in to what they mean. They turn
into political or religious comment or propaganda, in totally
different directions. These differences are out of control.
That points to one of the principles that I would recommend. We must
keep our attempts at interpretation under control. With such
abstract poems, we face a constant temptation to add details out of
our own imaginations. Now, some of that, to some extent, is
(probably) what the poet expects of us. He wants to stimulate our
imaginations. But it imposes the duty on us to be constantly aware
of what we are doing, of where each bit comes from (is this him or
is it me?) and to restrain ourselves within the bounds of reason, to
shy off when we find ourselves getting near the edge.
...
>> Political interpretations fall under Occam's Razor.
>
>That might be true IF you had clear interpretations
>of more than a fraction of the sonnets. You
>manifestly don't. You can find a hundred different
>interpretations of Sonnet 78. Only one is firmly
>tied to the culture of the times.
As I see it, I have clear interpretations of the great majority of
the sonnets. Major problems are rather rare - like "thou dost common
grow" at the end of sonnet 69. But I mean by interpretation
something less than you, perhaps, would want it to be. I am not
saying "this is what the poet really meant, if only he could have
got round to saying it". I try to clear up the problems that make
the words difficult to follow in our age - the obsolete words, the
unfamiliar syntax, the different approach to the world. Then the
poet can speak for himself. John Locke says "it is ambition enough
to be employed as an under-labourer in clearing the ground a little,
and removing some of the rubbish that lies in the way to knowledge"
(Essay concering Human Understanding, the Epistle to the Reader).
ew...@bcs.org.uk
Paul Crowley
> >> What you have done, now and before, is to strain the poem to make it
> >> fit a political situation involving various famous people.
> >
> >Show the strain. If it's there, it should
> >scream out.
> It does. KQKnave has shown comprehensively enough, more than once,
> that your basic premise is impossible - the Sonnets as a whole
> cannot possibly have been addressed to the Queen.
I appreciate that this is a 'religious' question for you;
i.e. one of faith, not of judgement. But you ought not
to be so categorical about it.
> I do not need to add to what he has said.
I don't bother to respond to KQKnave's 'spamming'
anymore. He never replies to any response I make.
Perhaps he thinks that's effective propaganda.
It seems to work with you -- but then you are already
fixed in the opinion he is pushing. But, just to show
you, I'll respond again to his posts, and we'll see
the non-existent reply (or the non-answers in any
reply he might make).
> ...
> >> If we solve the
> >> small riddles, we can understand the poem.
> >
> >That statement is entirely at odds with the facts.
> >There is no consensus whatever about what
> >the sonnets mean.
> Perhaps there are no two people who hold exactly the same view about
> every word. But among people who examine the words and avoid wild
> speculation, the differences are not enormous. I use four
> commentaries and have no great difficulty with them, though one
> disagrees with another from time to time and every now and then I
> think they have all missed a point. These are manageable
> differences.
But they say nothing -- or next to nothing. So it is
no wonder that you find little 'difference. My topic
in this thread is the second quatrain of Sonnet 78.
Read what the commentators say on _that_. It's
rock-bottom stuff on 'feathers' being a metaphor
from falconry, and the like; they are groping in the
dark for something to say -- anything. You can
see that as well as me. They have no idea what
the quatrain is about, let alone the whole sonnet.
> The farther we get away from the words,
We must never get away from the words.
I trust I never do.
> the more we get involved
> with things outside the poems, the greater the differences become.
> Some people think they were addressed to the Queen by the Earl of
> Oxford, some think he wrote them, but to someone else, some think
> Bacon wrote them, or Marlowe or various others. And in each case,
> who wrote them is fundamentally tied in to what they mean. They turn
> into political or religious comment or propaganda, in totally
> different directions. These differences are out of control.
You would have a point here IF you could show
detailed interpretations of the sonnets _that_
_were_faithful_to_the_words_ under Baconian,
Marlite or other scenarios. But there aren't any.
We get the occasional 'pulling-right-out-of-context'
of a particular words and phrases (à la KQKnave)
and that's it. In fact this whole area of sonnet
interpretation is left remarkably clear by all of that
lot. And what a relief ! Can you see Streitz or
Baker or Weir making a regular contribution to the
sonnet threads? Of course, they don't -- because
they can't. It's too damned hard. They'd have to
either stick to the inane nothingnesses of the
traditional Stratfordian commentators, or rapidly
make themselves look ridiculous.
> That points to one of the principles that I would recommend. We must
> keep our attempts at interpretation under control.
If I've 'gone out of control' at any point, I want to
know. IF I have, it would be _very_easy_ to show.
I don't spare others when they go out of control.
Peter Farey has some Marlite nonsense on
Sonnet 112; (he takes one line from the whole
of the sonnets -- interprets it in an exceedingly
dubious manner -- and says that proves Marlowe
was the author of all of them -- and Peter is
easily the sanest of the Marlites).
It was a simple task to tear Peter's stuff to bits.
The same applies to "hate away" = "Hathaway"
nonsense in Sonnet 145. Propagandists
invariably have to twist the words of the poem
to mean something quite different from their
natural sense. Have I ever done that?
> With such
> abstract poems, we face a constant temptation to add details out of
> our own imaginations. Now, some of that, to some extent, is
> (probably) what the poet expects of us. He wants to stimulate our
> imaginations. But it imposes the duty on us to be constantly aware
> of what we are doing, of where each bit comes from (is this him or
> is it me?) and to restrain ourselves within the bounds of reason, to
> shy off when we find ourselves getting near the edge.
Why don't you address my interpretation -- and
show when I've gone 'near the edge' or over the
'bounds of reason' ? Why are your responses
to me so content-free, and nothing but vague
generalisations?
> ...
> >> Political interpretations fall under Occam's Razor.
> >
> >That might be true IF you had clear interpretations
> >of more than a fraction of the sonnets. You
> >manifestly don't. You can find a hundred different
> >interpretations of Sonnet 78. Only one is firmly
> >tied to the culture of the times.
> As I see it, I have clear interpretations of the great majority of
> the sonnets.
You most certainly do not. You respect the grammar
and the words, and you often make good points. BUT
how often do we finish reading your commentaries
saying -- "Ah now, I feel I understand what this sonnet
was about, and why the poet wrote it?". I'm not
criticising you, because you are in the same league as
Kerrigan, Duncan-Jones, Vendler, et al. (Bookburn's
commentator is marginally better, IMHO.) How often
do we read any of them and say: "That has really
clarified things for me" . . . ?
> Major problems are rather rare - like "thou dost common
> grow" at the end of sonnet 69. But I mean by interpretation
> something less than you, perhaps, would want it to be.
It's not what _I_ would want it to be -- it's what
_everyone_ wants it to be and, quite properly,
initially expects it to be. It's what they routinely
get from commentaries on other poets. There
is no other set of poetic works that leaves the
reader so bemused. There is clearly a great
poet at work -- but what on earth is he writing
about?
> I am not
> saying "this is what the poet really meant, if only he could have
> got round to saying it". I try to clear up the problems that make
> the words difficult to follow in our age - the obsolete words, the
> unfamiliar syntax, the different approach to the world. Then the
> poet can speak for himself. John Locke says "it is ambition enough
> to be employed as an under-labourer in clearing the ground a little,
> and removing some of the rubbish that lies in the way to knowledge"
> (Essay concering Human Understanding, the Epistle to the Reader).
That is not a bad ambition -- but are you
actually achieving anything? I suggest that you
are doing no more than shifting the rubbish
around. You are working hard, in the same
way as many before you, but leaving the place
almost exactly as you found it -- as far as
anyone can tell.
I'm posting separately a 'listed exegesis' on
quatrain 2 or Sonnet 78. Please tear it to
bits -- if you can.
Paul Crowley
> "Paul Crowley" <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> wrote:
> >Show the strain. If it's there, it should
> >scream out.
> It does. KQKnave has shown comprehensively enough, more than once,
> that your basic premise is impossible - the Sonnets as a whole
> cannot possibly have been addressed to the Queen.
I answer KQKnave ignorant junk elsewhere -- yet again.
> I do not need to add to what he has said.
Yes, you do. If I am straining meaning, then it
should be child's play to point it out.
I maintain that I made a significant discovery over
Christmas about Sonnet 78 -- in the course of
some postings to this NG -- that the second
quatrain is about the other great glory of the
Elizabethan age -- its music.
Stratfordians will not, of course, want to see any
discovery here. Neither will a fair number of anti-
Strats (including many Oxfordians -- they are too
firmly wedded to beliefs at odds with it; nearly all
have adopted the {ridiculous} 'Fair Youth' theory,
and some have built upon it in even more far-
fetched ways).
Is there any possible rational basis for making
an objective decision on this issue? Is there a
discovery or isn't there? I maintain there is.
I say that I have found the key to the lock, and
not merely does it fit into it perfectly, it actually
turns the bolt, smoothly and silently.
How is such a claim to be tested?
First, let me say that testing is hardly necessary
for those whose minds are open. Read the
quatrain. The words mean little on their own;
yet we can sense that they are packed with
meaning. They have been carefully chosen, and
we can see that each phrase needs a reference
and a context. We know that the five words
emphasised in the iambic feet of Line 5 each
has a meaning external to the sonnet: 'eyes',
'taught', 'dumb', 'high', and 'sing'; and similarly
for the words and phrases of the following lines.
But without a context, no meaning can come to
mind. That context readily becomes apparent
from the years of Oxford's early maturity.
> 5. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
> 6. And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
> 7. Have added feathers to the learned's wing
> 8. And given grace a double Majesty.
But to return to the question, are there any
objective tests that could determine the issue?
The quality of an analysis, or exegesis, of a literary
text can be assessed quite easily. Does it provide
an explanation of a high proportion of the words
and phrases? Are the meanings it extracts logical,
coherent, reasonable and consistent? Are the
words carefully respected? And not twisted from
their natural context? Is the grammar scrupulously
observed? And are there often surprising senses,
and illuminations of grammar, never seen before
in the text?
Do they fit the known pattern of the author's ways
of thinking? In the case of Shakespeare, are
they full of puns, both simple and elaborate (and
often bawdy)?
I suggest that the relevance of the meanings and
the puns I have extracted from the text is _so_
powerful that there is no possible doubt about
their veracity. You could question what I make of,
say, about one half of one line. But when I reach
two-thirds, or complete the whole line it becomes
more than probably correct. Two whole lines could
not, without the most astonishing co-incidences
(say, 1,000 to one) have been written for another
situation. So for the whole quatrain, we can have
no doubt at all (1,000 x 1,000). Only a fanatic (of
a religious nature) can deny its meaning.
> 5. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
'Thine eyes' =
(a) printed music notes,
(b) "thine Ay's"
(c) "thine 'I's"
(d) thine eyes (of the Queen)
that taught =
(a) as from notes,
(b) as consenting to petitions,
(c) as giving injunctions,
(d) as guiding by looks
the dumb =
(a) Tallis (known to be quiet),
(b) choirs not accompanying organ music
(a practice strongly disapproved by Puritans)
(c) organs silenced by Puritans
on high =
(a) choirs,
(b) organs,
(c) organists
to sing =
(a) as in all of above,
(b) to produce glorious music of the highest calibre.
> 6. And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
heavy ignorance =
(a) the Puritanical syllable-per-note sung music
out of Geneva -- with Calvin's dictum of
'poids et majeste' (weighty and majestic)
(b) the Puritanical silencing of the organs
(c) the Puritan hymn books in heavy Gothic print.
aloft =
(a) repeat of 'on high' as for organs and choirs,
(b) 'Tallet' or 'tallat' (pun on 'Tallis') meaning 'loft'
to fly =
(a) greater vivacity and complexity of
the music of the day,
(b) with 'Bird' (Byrd)
(c) office of printer's devil -- from grant of a monopoly
of the printing of music to Tallis and Byrd in 1575
(d) 'Fly' = 'Fugue' (literally)
> 7. Have added feathers to the learned's wing
added feathers =
(a) appointed Byrd (as 'bird') as co-organist of
the Chapel Royal from 1572
(b) and so helped Tallis 'to fly' in producing great
music from 1572;
(c) helped Tallis to produce more compositions
(as with a quill pen),
(d) made his music lighter
(e) added her emblem, the falcon, to the covers
of all her books
learned's =
(a) 'Talisman' = a turk learned in divinity or law,
(b) as a cleric in the church
wing =
(a) Bird (Byrd)
(b) role and location of second organ,
(c) role of second organist,
(d) cover as wing of book
> 8. And given grace a double Majesty.
given grace =
(a) Grace as 'your Grace',
(b) grace in music
(c) grace as in 'grace' notes,
(d) as in the 'Graces' of the Arts -- referred to later
in the sonnets
double Majesty =
(a) as in 'Your majesty'
(b) the majesty of music
(c) doubling of the organists of the Chapel Royal
(d) installation of double organ in the Chapel
Royal (not recorded but suggested as probable).
Bob Grumman
> should be child's play to point it out.
It is. What is not child's play is getting you to accept
your misinterpretations as what they are.
> I maintain that I made a significant discovery over
> Christmas about Sonnet 78 -- in the course of
> some postings to this NG -- that the second
> quatrain is about the other great glory of the
> Elizabethan age -- its music.
If the quatrain is about Elizabethan music, it is about it
in no poetically valuable or significant way.
snip
> Is there any possible rational basis for making
> an objective decision on this issue? Is there a
> discovery or isn't there? I maintain there is.
> I say that I have found the key to the lock, and
> not merely does it fit into it perfectly, it actually
> turns the bolt, smoothly and silently.
>
> How is such a claim to be tested?
If your interpretation works for others, fine. If it does not
work for the majority of other intelligent readers, it is
probably wrong. However, if you yourself had ever given evidence
of an talent for literary criticism--for instance, by writing a
few essays that others found useful on any poetry besides
Shakespeare and Shakespeare-related poetry--there would be
grounds for giving your interpretations more respect. On
another thread, I tried to figure out how one could tell
one was not a crackpot. What I said is applicable to
figuring out whether one's poetry analysis is of value or
not. I'm close to being considered a crank for the high
rating I give such forms of burstnorm poetry as visual poetry;
but I've written on Robert Duncan for an academic magazine, and
do regular reviews of haiku collections for the leading haiku
magazine in the US so can have SOME confidence, I believe, in
my ability to analize the Sonnets (though, frankly, I don't have
as much confidence that I can get my OWN poems right as you
have that you can get Shakespeare's right). What can you say
about yourself that would suggest that your babble about the
sonnets may be of any value, that would suggest that I who
have read what you've said should not have dismissed it?
--Bob G.
--
Posted via Mailgate.ORG Server - http://www.Mailgate.ORG
KQKnave
<pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
>Is there any possible rational basis for making
>an objective decision on this issue? Is there a
>discovery or isn't there? I maintain there is.
>I say that I have found the key to the lock, and
>not merely does it fit into it perfectly, it actually
>turns the bolt, smoothly and silently.
The only bolt you've found is the one to your cell.
KQKnave
<pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
>It was a simple task to tear Peter's stuff to bits.
>The same applies to "hate away" = "Hathaway"
>nonsense in Sonnet 145.
Why is it nonsense? Shakespeare's wife was Ann
Hathaway, so the pun is apt.
>Propagandists
>invariably have to twist the words of the poem
>to mean something quite different from their
>natural sense. Have I ever done that?
Yes, all the time, and you're insistence that you don't
is quite mad. The first 126 sonnets were not written to man.
The sonnets make themselves quite clear on
that. You claim that I am "spamming", but all I'm doing
is presenting the clear evidence from the sonnets
themselves that the first 126 were not written to a woman.
You can continue to claim that "he" means "she" all
you want, but it's nothing but insanity.
KQKnave
<pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
>We must never get away from the words.
>I trust I never do.
>
Hilarious. Then why do you ignore sonnet 20 among
other things?
Sonnet 20:
A woman's face with nature's own hand painted,
Hast thou the master mistress of my passion,
A woman's gentle heart but not acquainted
With shifting change as is false women's fashion,
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling:
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth,
A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created,
Till nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure,
Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
KQKnave
<pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
>First, let me say that testing is hardly necessary
>for those whose minds are open. Read the
>quatrain. The words mean little on their own;
>yet we can sense that they are packed with
>meaning. They have been carefully chosen, and
>we can see that each phrase needs a reference
>and a context. We know that the five words
>emphasised in the iambic feet of Line 5 each
>has a meaning external to the sonnet: 'eyes',
>'taught', 'dumb', 'high', and 'sing'; and similarly
>for the words and phrases of the following lines.
>But without a context, no meaning can come to
>mind. That context readily becomes apparent
>from the years of Oxford's early maturity.
>
>> 5. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
>> 6. And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
>> 7. Have added feathers to the learned's wing
>> 8. And given grace a double Majesty.
>
Barking mad.
The context is that the sonneteer is writing a love
sonnet to his beloved.
1. So oft have I invoked thee for my muse,
2. And found such fair assistance in my verse,
3. As every alien pen hath got my use,
4. And under thee their poesy disperse.
5. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing,
6. And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
7. Have added feathers to the learned's wing,
8. And given grace a double majesty.
So in these first eight lines the poet says that he
was inspired by the beloved, that others have used
his verse to write their own imitations, and that the
beloved's eyes have ornamented the poetry of
the ignorant, the learned and the graced.
9. Yet be most proud of that which I compile,
10. Whose influence is thine, and born of thee,
11. In others' works thou dost but mend the style,
12. And arts with thy sweet graces graced be.
The poet then wishes that the beloved be most proud
of his poems, and that the beloved's presence in
others poems merely corrects the mistakes in style,
and that the arts in general are graced with his presence.
13. But thou art all my art, and dost advance
14. As high as learning, my rude ignorance.
And finally the poet compliments the beloved by
saying that he is the sole subject of his art, and
inspires him as high as learning (implying that he,
the poet, is not learned.)
KQKnave
<pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
>> It does. KQKnave has shown comprehensively enough, more than once,
>> that your basic premise is impossible - the Sonnets as a whole
>> cannot possibly have been addressed to the Queen.
>
>I appreciate that this is a 'religious' question for you;
>i.e. one of faith, not of judgement. But you ought not
>to be so categorical about it.
>
>> I do not need to add to what he has said.
>
>I don't bother to respond to KQKnave's 'spamming'
>anymore. He never replies to any response I make.
>Perhaps he thinks that's effective propaganda.
>It seems to work with you -- but then you are already
>fixed in the opinion he is pushing. But, just to show
>you, I'll respond again to his posts, and we'll see
>the non-existent reply (or the non-answers in any
>reply he might make).
>
>
A few years ago I wrote a Shakespearean-style sonnet
and posted it here under a pseudonym, claiming that
it was a long-lost poem by Shakespeare. Crowley bought
it hook line and sinker, and even though I wrote the poem
to no one, he still claimed that not only was it by
Shakespeare, but that it was addressed to the Queen!
***************************************************************************
On Mon, 14 Dec 1998 23:54:31 GMT, crow...@hxtmail.cxm (Paul
Crowley) wrote:
>>If beauty's time were brief, then he that knowest
>>Full well thy feeble life (with sports well crammed,
>>Disdaining love which cradles beauty best)
>>Would stand the hazard of thy rage inflamed,
>>And shout as though a cryer in the streets,
>>Descanting upon war or brawls abroad,
>>That Time will cram thee hard between his sheets,
>>As all dead beauties, bodies all, are awed.
>>But thy face summers in its campaign still,
>>Vanity in thine ears crams all the world
>>And stops the words who pleaseth not thy will,
>>A fort against which gunstones black are hurled.
>>Mark! No heir will fight for thee in hell,
>>If time, in war, destroys thy beauty's spell.
>This is not De Vere, nor is it Elizabethan. It's a long, long
>way from that. In fact, by Elizabethan standards, it's crap.
On reading it again, I'm completely withdrawing my previous
comments, and reversing my conclusions. I was much too hasty in
assuming tha it was someone like Jack Vancho doing an Elizabethan
pastiche. One reason I was suspicious is that the theme is so
Shakespearean. However, it's far too distinctively Elizabethan,
and the more I read it the more I like it. (Read it quickly and
out loud -- it flows beautifully.) It is very densely packed,
and full of complex imagery. The author shows a willingness to
break rules (like putting in all those "cram's" words, and
rhyming 'crammed' with 'inflamed'). In this case it's addressed
to a dominating and rather fear-inspiring woman -- although the
author is not afraid to say what he thinks about her in the poem.
If it is Oxford's (as I am now fairly sure) the only likely
candidate would be Elizabeth, and that would have been the reason
for excluding it from the Canon.
*****************************************************************************
Crowley also said later:
*****************************************************************************
"But now
I don't think it's the least 'unlearned'. It's too good. It
shows too great a degree of familiarity with the Elizabethan
world for it to be a hoax. Its author has too much sympathy
with, and understanding of, the Oxfordian cause. I have to
conclude that it really is Oxford's."
******************************************************************************
As you can see, Crowley is barking mad.
KQKnave
<pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
>You most certainly do not. You respect the grammar
>and the words, and you often make good points. BUT
>how often do we finish reading your commentaries
>saying -- "Ah now, I feel I understand what this sonnet
>was about, and why the poet wrote it?". I'm not
>criticising you, because you are in the same league as
>Kerrigan, Duncan-Jones, Vendler, et al. (Bookburn's
>commentator is marginally better, IMHO.) How often
>do we read any of them and say: "That has really
>clarified things for me" . . . ?
>
All the time. You, however, create an alternate universe
which has nothing to do with reality. Here are the examples
again which demonstrate ON THEIR OWN, with no
commentary neccessary, that the first 126 sonnets were
written to a man:
Sonnet 3:
"For where is she so fair whose uneared womb/
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?"; Sonnet
9: "Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye/ That thou consum'st
thyself in single life?"; Sonnet 16: "And many maiden
gardens yet unset,/ With virtuous wish would bear your
living flowers."; Sonnet 20:
A woman's face with nature's own hand painted,
Hast thou the master mistress of my passion,
A woman's gentle heart but not acquainted
With shifting change as is false women's fashion,
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling:
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth,
A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created,
Till nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure,
Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
Sonnet 32:
Dr Peter Groves
news:20020205142417...@mb-fn.aol.com...
Apart from anything else, his failure to notice the grotesque solecism "he
that knowest" (let alone the rhyme with "best") would brand him a farcically
incompetent reader of Early Modern English.
Peter G.
Paul Crowley
> In article <n1h78.33238$8s4.1...@news.indigo.ie>, "Paul Crowley"
> <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
>
> >You can find a hundred different
> >interpretations of Sonnet 78. Only one is firmly
> >tied to the culture of the times.
>
> Nonsense. The sonnets are primarily fiction,
> and there need be no correspondence at all
> to the times, unless some true believer wants
> to see something.
Thanks for the detailed criticisms of my
exegesis of THIS sonnet, Jim (#78 in case
you can't see the title). I knew you were up to it.
Elizabethan men and women lead quite different
kinds of lives. Not one woman was employed in
an official capacity, either by the Queen (in the
central government) nor by local boroughs. Not
one teacher, doctor, lawyer, judge, court clerk,
soldier, sailor, miner, member of Parliament,
bailiff, cleric, carter, cooper, etc., was a woman.
So it is usually very easy to tell when a letter or
a note is addressed to a man or a woman of
that time. Men and women did very different
things, wore different clothes, had different
aims, ambitions and interests; they talked
about different things, they spoke in a different
manner, and so on.
Yet in the sonnets up to #126, we have 1763
lines of intensely-written verse, mostly of a
closely personal nature -- and scarcely a single
indication of the gender of the addressee. He/
she does not wear distinctive clothes (as far
as we can tell); s/he is not in a profession and
has no professional ambitions; s/he does not
practise the martial arts; s/he has not travelled
overseas, and has no interest or intention in
that area; s/he does not take part in games or
tournaments; s/he is not a student in one of
the universities or in the Inns of Court; s/he
appears to know legal terms but apparently has
no personal ambitions or interest in a such a
career .
So why all the obscurity? Today, there is little
discrimination between the genders, yet could
you write 1763 full of dense meanings and
expressions of personal regard to, say, a son
or a daughter at college and _never_ give the
least indication of that person's gender -- to
someone who casually happened to read
them?
Imagine you were a detective investigating a
case like this. He finds over 100 separate
poems, mostly of a most personal nature,
addressed by an older person to, say, a student.
He wants to establish the addressee's gender.
How long would you expect it to take him?
> The sonnets up through 126 were not written to the Queen or
> even a woman, but to a man.
It must be comforting to be so stupid -- and
so confident in your stupidity.
> This has been pointed out
> repeatedly to Crowley, but his fantasies continue to overwhelm
> him. That the sonnets were written to a young man is
> obvious from the sonnets themselves, which makes Crowley's
> thesis so obviously insane:
It is, of course, going to look nuts to a convinced
Stratfordian . . . . who has the entirely rational
belief that the sonnets were written by an obscure
homosexual hack poet from a tiny provincial town
to the young homosexual heir of a great noble
house -- whose family paid the gay poet to send
him poems expressing the most ardent
homosexual love . . in order to persuade him to
marry (some unknown and unmentionable female)
so that he could, in turn, leave an heir.
Why should anyone want to question a belief as
sensible and rational as that?
Well, as it happens, the sonnets fit almost
perfectly into the pattern of a very large corpus
of 'courtier poetry'. Elizabethan courtiers were,
in effect, required to address their sovereign in
terms of ardent love and adoration. They were,
in effect, paid for this activity; they received
royal favour, if on a peculiarly haphazard and
uncertain basis. The fact that masses of detail
proves many of them belong to the early 1580s
will, of course, mean nothing to you.
It is quite easy to apply objective tests to my
thesis. If the Stratfordian hypothesis were true
and the addressee were male, how would it
have been possible to avoid ALL the activities
in which males indulged at the time, to the
near-complete exclusion of females? Did
the 'fair youth' have no martial ambitions
whatsoever? How could that be conceivable
for an Elizabethan youth? Did he never wear
any kind of clothes (male or female) -- but wait,
he seems to have worn a carcanet . . and
massive amounts of jewels . . and a chastity
belt. He seems to have had 'a treasure'. Nearly
all the bawdy puns are on female sexual organs.
But perhaps he was hermaphroditic. Perhaps
that explains why he never does anything that
a normal youth of the day would have done.
It seems that he didn't sail to Cadiz or to Calais
with all the other noble youths of the day. It
seems he never wore a sword, nor fired a pistol,
nor practised at the tilts, nor wore a jerkin, nor a
codpiece, nor worked on his fencing, nor
travelled overseas, nor ventured on to a ship . .
nor ever had any kind of ambitions in any
direction of that nature. But he liked face paint,
and looked a lot into mirrors and thought about
his impending death . . .
> Sonnet 3:
> "For where is she so fair whose uneared womb/
> Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?";
A joke when addressed to a woman who is
a manager of men -- on 'husbandry' (Get it?)
> Sonnet
> 9: "Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye/ That thou consum'st
> thyself in single life?";
A reference to the tears that twice-widdowed
Mary Queen of Scots would shed on hearing
of Elizabeth's pregnancy.
> Sonnet 16: "And many maiden
> gardens yet unset,/ With virtuous wish would bear your
> living flowers.";
A joking pun -- and a reference to future
generations of Tudors.
Sonnet 20:
>
> A woman's face with nature's own hand painted,
You think someone could address THAT line to
an Elizabethan male?
> Hast thou the Master Mistress of my passion,
You think someone could address THAT line to
an Elizabethan male?
> A woman's gentle heart but not acquainted
You think someone could address THAT line to
an Elizabethan male? (And do you get the pun
in 'quaint'? = 'cunt')
> With shifting change as is false women's fashion,
You think someone could address THAT line to
an Elizabethan male?
> An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling:
In the Quarto it's 'rowling' -- a pointer to a sailor
called 'Rawlee'.
> Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth,
That's what she did to the 'object' on whom she
gazed -- the hated rival.
> A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
The 'object' was a man who wore amazing clothes.
> Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
He stole pearls (men's eyes); he liked to discuss
the nature of 'souls'; he amazed the soles of a
famous woman with his cloak.
> And for a woman wert thou first created,
You think someone could address THAT line to
an Elizabethan male?
> Till nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
> And by addition me of thee defeated,
> By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
A crown
> But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure,
A crown
> Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
>
> Sonnet 32:
> "O then vouchsafe me but this loving thought,
> 'Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age,
> A dearer birth than this his love had brought
> To march in ranks of better equipage:
> But since he died and poets better prove,
> Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love'.";
Note that this passage is IN QUOTES. It is what
the poet hopes people will say about HIM after
he is dead.
> Sonnet 33: "Even so my sun one early morn did shine,
> With all triumphant splendour on my brow,
> But out alack, he was but one hour mine,
> The region cloud hath masked him from me now.
> Yet him for this, my love no whit disdaineth,";
The poet is talking about THE SUN -- a masculine
personage.
> Sonnet 41:
You omitted the lines before
1. Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits,
2. When I am sometime absent from thy heart,
3. Thy beauty, and thy years full well befits,
You think someone could address THAT line to
an Elizabethan male?
4. For still temptation follows where thou art.
You think someone could address THAT line to
an Elizabethan male?
5. Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won,
You think someone could address THAT line to
an Elizabethan male?
"Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed.
You think someone could address THAT line to
an Elizabethan male?
> And when a woman woos, what woman's son,
> Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed?
> Ay me, but yet thou mightst my seat forbear,
You think someone could address THAT line to
an Elizabethan male?
> And chide thy beauty, and thy straying youth,
You think someone could address THAT line to
an Elizabethan male?
> Who lead thee in their riot even there
> Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth:
> Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,";
> Sonnet 42: "That thou hast her it is not all my grief,
> And yet it may be said I loved her dearly,
> That she hath thee is of my wailing chief,
> A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
> Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye,
> Thou dost love her, because thou know'st I love her,";
Sonnets 40-41-42 are difficult and obscure.
But there is almost nothing in them suggesting
that the addressee is male and a great deal
suggesting that she isn't.
> Sonnet 54: "And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,";
You think someone could address THAT line to
an Elizabethan male?
> Sonnet 126: "O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy pow'r/
> Dost hold time's fickle glass."
Addressed to the infant figure of Time.
> See for yourself that the Droeshout portrait is not unusual at all!
> http://hometown.aol.com/kqknave/shakenbake.html
Where you have trawled through Elizabethan and Jacobean
portraiture for something as freakish as the Folio portrait
and FAILED hopelessly.
Where you selected
(a) a picture of Bacon that turned out to show the opposite of
what you thought it did.
(b) a picture of a poor statue in some memorial of Bacon
(c) a contrived, weird cartoon of Donne
(d) a miniature of Donne
(e) a cartoon of Nashe
- - - - - claiming that all make good comparisons
with the Stratman's one authoritative portrait.
True -- they ALL show him up as a utter freak.
See how the Folio portrait was designed to show
a monster -- a person who never existed and
who could never have existed:
http://www.crosswinds.net/~crowleyp/
KQKnave
<Monti...@bigpond.com> writes:
>Apart from anything else, his failure to notice the grotesque solecism "he
>that knowest" (let alone the rhyme with "best") would brand him a farcically
>incompetent reader of Early Modern English.
>
"he that knowest" is indeed wrong, but the rhyme is not any different
from "temperate" and "date" in sonnet 18. In any case, if it really
were by Shakespeare, there would have to be a reason why it was not
included in the 1609 edition!
Dr Peter Groves
> In article <X9Z78.88467$HW3.1...@newsfeeds.bigpond.com>, "Dr Peter
Groves"
> <Monti...@bigpond.com> writes:
>
> >Apart from anything else, his failure to notice the grotesque solecism
"he
> >that knowest" (let alone the rhyme with "best") would brand him a
farcically
> >incompetent reader of Early Modern English.
> >
>
> "he that knowest" is indeed wrong, but the rhyme is not any different
> from "temperate" and "date" in sonnet 18.
Well, not exactly. This goes back to our earlier discussion about feminine
endings: "temperate" and "date" is a weak masculine rhyme (the last syllable
of "temperate" carries the final beat of the line even though it's
unstressed), and "knowest/glowest" would be a feminine rhyme, but
"knowest/best" attempts to rhyme masculine with feminine, which is a
solecism you find only in less competent verse and folk-poetry (or in
experimental verse, like Wyatt's).
Peter G.
Paul Crowley
> In article <mqT78.33792$8s4.1...@news.indigo.ie>, "Paul Crowley"
> <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
>
> >Is there any possible rational basis for making
> >an objective decision on this issue? Is there a
> >discovery or isn't there? I maintain there is.
> >I say that I have found the key to the lock, and
> >not merely does it fit into it perfectly, it actually
> >turns the bolt, smoothly and silently.
>
> The only bolt you've found is the one to your cell.
Thank you for your detailed criticism of my
exegesis. I was most impressed by how
you pointed out all the alternative possible
sense of 'feathers', 'wing' and 'to fly' and
how they need not have applied to Byrd
or Tallis.
But you wrote so much, and it was so
thoughtful and so much to the point, that
you'll have to give me time to consider it all.
Paul Crowley
> In article <mqT78.33792$8s4.1...@news.indigo.ie>, "Paul Crowley"
> <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
>
> >First, let me say that testing is hardly necessary
> >for those whose minds are open. Read the
> >quatrain. The words mean little on their own;
> >yet we can sense that they are packed with
> >meaning. They have been carefully chosen, and
> >we can see that each phrase needs a reference
> >and a context. We know that the five words
> >emphasised in the iambic feet of Line 5 each
> >has a meaning external to the sonnet: 'eyes',
> >'taught', 'dumb', 'high', and 'sing'; and similarly
> >for the words and phrases of the following lines.
> >But without a context, no meaning can come to
> >mind. That context readily becomes apparent
> >from the years of Oxford's early maturity.
> >
> >> 5. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
> >> 6. And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
> >> 7. Have added feathers to the learned's wing
> >> 8. And given grace a double Majesty.
> >
>
> Barking mad.
Thank you for your detailed criticism of my
exegesis. I was most impressed by how
you pointed out all the alternative possible
sense of 'feathers', 'wing' and 'to fly' and
how they need not have applied to Byrd
or Tallis.
But you wrote so much, and it was so
thoughtful and so much to the point, that
you'll have to give me time to consider it all.
Paul.
--
Email: pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)
>
Paul Crowley
> > Yes, you do. If I am straining meaning, then it
> > should be child's play to point it out.
>
>
> It is. What is not child's play is getting you to accept
> your misinterpretations as what they are.
Thank you for your detailed criticism of my
exegesis. I was most impressed by how
you pointed out all the alternative possible
sense of 'feathers', 'wing' and 'to fly' and
how they need not have applied to Byrd
or Tallis.
But you wrote so much, and it was so
thoughtful and so much to the point, that
you'll have to give me time to consider it all.
Paul.
--
Email: pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)
>
Robert Stonehouse
>Robert Stonehouse <ew...@bcs.org.uk> wrote in message news:3c5f7e4...@news.demon.co.uk...
>> "Paul Crowley" <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> wrote:
>First, let me say that testing is hardly necessary
>for those whose minds are open. Read the
>quatrain. The words mean little on their own;
>yet we can sense that they are packed with
>meaning. They have been carefully chosen, and
>we can see that each phrase needs a reference
>and a context. We know that the five words
>emphasised in the iambic feet of Line 5 each
>has a meaning external to the sonnet: 'eyes',
>'taught', 'dumb', 'high', and 'sing'; and similarly
>for the words and phrases of the following lines.
sonnet" and so I do not understand how "we know" that.
>But without a context, no meaning can come to
>mind. That context readily becomes apparent
>from the years of Oxford's early maturity.
I do not accept that nobody but you has elicited a meaning from this
sonnet. It's difficult, true, but not meaningless, unless we limit
the meaning of "meaning" to the assignment of a political context.
There is no reason that I can see to impose that limit.
I do not understand what you think the line means. Here we have five
phrases and you assign 4, 4, 3, 3, and 2 meanings to them. Does that
mean the line has a total number of meanings that is the product of
these numbers, that is, 288 different meanings, and they are all
valid? It seems wildly unlikely. But if not, then why is one valid
and another not? What does the line mean? How does the above
explicate it? To me, at least, not successfully up to now.
I have exactly the same problem with all the rest and so I snip it
for the moment - we can come back to it when I understand the
intention.
ew...@bcs.org.uk
Bob Grumman
< < < Yes, you do. If I am straining meaning, then it
< < < should be child's play to point it out.
< <
< <
< < It is. What is not child's play is getting you to accept
< < your misinterpretations as what they are.
<
< Thank you for your detailed criticism of my
< exegesis.
Jim, Robert, I and others have given detailed criticisms
of your previous strainings. Why should we take the
trouble to continue to point out your foolishness when
it is obvious that you won't accept our reasoning?
< I was most impressed by how
< you pointed out all the alternative possible
< sense of 'feathers', 'wing' and 'to fly' and
< how they need not have applied to Byrd
< or Tallis.
A poet who wanted to praise Byrd or Tallis would
have done so openly. Why bring either into a poem
like this for oblique praise?
or, as I previously said in response to:
< < < I maintain that I made a significant discovery over
< < < Christmas about Sonnet 78 -- in the course of
< < < some postings to this NG -- that the second
< < < quatrain is about the other great glory of the
< < < Elizabethan age -- its music.
< <
< < If the quatrain is about Elizabethan music, it is about it
< < in no poetically valuable or significant way.
Show why I am wrong.
< <
< < < Is there any possible rational basis for making
< < < an objective decision on this issue? Is there a
< < < discovery or isn't there? I maintain there is.
< < < I say that I have found the key to the lock, and
< < < not merely does it fit into it perfectly, it actually
< < < turns the bolt, smoothly and silently.
< < <
< < < How is such a claim to be tested?
Here you ask a question and I attempt to answer, with some
empathy for you as a beleaguered proponent of a minority view--
though I also clearly make known my low opinion of your view.
You refuse to respond to my answer, naturally. Here it is again,
anyway:
< < If your interpretation works for others, fine. If it does not
< < work for the majority of other intelligent readers, it is
< < probably wrong. However, if you yourself had ever given evidence
< < of an talent for literary criticism--for instance, by writing a
< < few essays that others found useful on any poetry besides
< < Shakespeare and Shakespeare-related poetry--there would be
< < grounds for giving your interpretations more respect. On
< < another thread, I tried to figure out how one could tell
< < one was not a crackpot. What I said is applicable to
< < figuring out whether one's poetry analysis is of value or
< < not. I'm close to being considered a crank for the high
< < rating I give such forms of burstnorm poetry as visual poetry;
< < but I've written on Robert Duncan for an academic magazine, and
< < do regular reviews of haiku collections for the leading haiku
< < magazine in the US so can have SOME confidence, I believe, in
< < my ability to analize the Sonnets (though, frankly, I don't have
< < as much confidence that I can get my OWN poems right as you
< < have that you can get Shakespeare's right). What can you say
< < about yourself that would suggest that your babble about the
< < sonnets may be of any value, that would suggest that I who
< < have read what you've said should not have dismissed it?
--Bob G.
John Harrington
<snip>
> 6. . . . . . . . . . aloft TO FLY,
>
> The 'to fly' is a complex pun with at least four clear
> senses: <snip>....
> (d) ' fly ' = ' fugue '
>
> http://www.stmartins.org/music/music101_forms_weddings.htm
> " Fugue . : Literally "to fly". A polyphonic procedure that
> depends heavily on the imitation and reappearance
> of a short melodic theme (the "subject"). In addition
> to repetition and contrast in the melodic material,
> the fugue involves considerable modulation of keys.
> Returns to original key at the end. Steps to the fully
> developed Baroque fugal form: In the Renaissance,
> imitation. In the Middle Ages, canon. . . "
Paul,
Was "fugue" a word known to Byrd or Tallis? I don't think that word
was ever used by Byrd or Tallis to describe any of their compositions,
and, before Shakespeare's death, I'd be surprised if it was known at
all in England.
Sorry if someone else mentioned this. I didn't bother to read the
whole thread.
John
Paul Crowley
> >The words mean little on their own;
> >yet we can sense that they are packed with
> >meaning. They have been carefully chosen, and
> >we can see that each phrase needs a reference
> >and a context. We know that the five words
> >emphasised in the iambic feet of Line 5 each
> >has a meaning external to the sonnet: 'eyes',
> >'taught', 'dumb', 'high', and 'sing'; and similarly
> >for the words and phrases of the following lines.
> I am not clear exactly what kind of meaning is "external to the
> sonnet" and so I do not understand how "we know" that.
I was referring to something you said earlier (which I
quoted in the parallel posting):
> > > The farther we get away from the words, the more we
> > > get involved with things outside the poems,
So, the distinction between what's 'inside the
poem' and what's 'outside' is yours! Although
I think I get your sense. Obviously all words
have a normal meaning, and we can use them
in fairly banal statement to our lovers in sonnets.
So we know what "starlight shines in your eyes
of blue" means, and we know it does not mean
much, but a good poet can put such words
together and create beauty. This Shakespeare
certainly did, at times. And (I understand) _this_
is what you think he nearly always did. In your
exegeses, you mostly try to clarify the words and
the grammar to get at some fairly banal sense.
Or it might be about some aspect of life or death
or illness which is not banal -- but it is a general
statement, and does NOT -- as you see it -- refer
to any immediate aspect of their environment,
which would be likely to be obscure to an
outsider.
I, on the other hand, see the poet referring to
aspects of his life with his addressee which
were complex, active, and often quite public.
> >But without a context, no meaning can come to
> >mind. That context readily becomes apparent
> >from the years of Oxford's early maturity.
> I do not accept that nobody but you has elicited a meaning from this
> sonnet.
I just happen to be the first to realise that it was
written in the early 1580s. Without that, I suggest
there is no possibility of grasping the meaning.
> It's difficult, true, but not meaningless, unless we limit
> the meaning of "meaning" to the assignment of a political context.
> There is no reason that I can see to impose that limit.
There is no reason to 'impose' any such limit.
But if that is what the poet meant, then we must
accept it.
> >> 5. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
> >> 6. And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
> >> 7. Have added feathers to the learned's wing
> >> 8. And given grace a double Majesty.
I have a fair bit of duplication, as of course,
did the poet. 'Thine eyes that taught' is really
all one phrase with, as I see them, four
principal (and overlapping) meanings.
The phrase 'the dumb on high' is one with
three principal meanings (as I see them):
(a) Tallis, (b) choirs accompanying music,
(c) organ-playing itself (all in the context of
Elizabeth's contentions with the prevailing
Puritanism of the country).
The meanings of the final phrase 'to sing'
could be expressed in an enormous number
of ways. Above all, it is the expression of joy
at the glories of the reign, especially of its
music.
The whole point of this poet is that he could
say a great deal in a few words. What I am
doing is seeking to extract the main strands
of his meanings -- and, almost certainly, not
doing him, nor them, justice.
> But if not, then why is one valid
> and another not? What does the line mean?
It does not mean any _one_ thing. It has a
whole variety of meanings, all at once. Think
of it as being something like great music but
with, perhaps, a stronger or more immediate
connection to the world. You could ask much
the same of any of Hamlet's soliloquies. Here
its complexities of meaning are akin to those
of a polyphonic composition by Byrd or Tallis.
Robert Stonehouse
First used in 1597, according to the Shorter Oxford. That is too
late for Paul Crowley's date, but not for most other people's.
ew...@bcs.org.uk
Robert Stonehouse
sounds less extravagant than 288 meanings. But either of them
exceeds human capacity to comprehend more than one thing at a time,
which I would estimate at two. So it is not really a solution.
>
>The meanings of the final phrase 'to sing'
>could be expressed in an enormous number
>of ways. Above all, it is the expression of joy
>at the glories of the reign, especially of its
>music.
>
>The whole point of this poet is that he could
>say a great deal in a few words. What I am
>doing is seeking to extract the main strands
>of his meanings -- and, almost certainly, not
>doing him, nor them, justice.
>
>> But if not, then why is one valid
>> and another not? What does the line mean?
>
>It does not mean any _one_ thing. It has a
>whole variety of meanings, all at once. Think
>of it as being something like great music but
>with, perhaps, a stronger or more immediate
>connection to the world. You could ask much
>the same of any of Hamlet's soliloquies. Here
>its complexities of meaning are akin to those
>of a polyphonic composition by Byrd or Tallis.
exactly the proposition I deny. I am entitled to deny it, because I
am prepared to undertake to extract the one thing that each sonnet
means and set it out in reasonably plain words.
That does not mean that I think every sonnet (or any sonnet) can be
_reduced_ to its "propositional content" (Helen Vendler, page 40).
That is not the whole story, or the reason why the poem exists. But
there always is a propositional content, and if we do not grasp that
for a start then we are off track.
This may not apply to every poem, but it applies to Shakespeare's
sonnets. Blake can write "What dread hand? And what dread feet?" and
we are not to enquire too closely into what the feet are doing
there. Shakespeare does not do that kind of thing. Every sonnet has
a coherent argument flowing through it, and I can tell you what that
argument is. (I am not unique in this, of course: I say it just to
establish my own good faith.)
Now, it seems you are denying the possibility of what I actually do
once a week. "Since these sciences actually exist, it is quite
proper to ask _how_ they are possible, for that they must be
possible is proved by the fact that they exist" (Kant, Critique of
Pure Reason, Introduction: in Norman Kemp Smith's translation). And
my weekly efforts are not mere fantasy. It is possible to ask and
answer detailed questions about them, as they themselves consist
partly in detailed discussion of the commentators whose work I
possess.
So I am saying that if every phrase has the number of meanings you
suggest, and no choice is to be made between them, then there is no
"propositional content" in the sonnets. Propositionally, they are
unintelligible. But they are not unintelligible. Therefore, choices
must be possible.
All which does nothing to stop us concluding "He has said this, but
in such a way as to remind us of that".
ew...@bcs.org.uk
Alan Jones
> jbay...@my-deja.com (John Harrington) wrote:
> >"Paul Crowley" <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> wrote in message
news:<zyb68.32304$8s4.1...@news.indigo.ie>...
> ><snip>
> >> 6. . . . . . . . . . aloft TO FLY,
> >>
> >> The 'to fly' is a complex pun with at least four clear
> >> senses: <snip>....
> >> (d) ' fly ' = ' fugue '
> >>
> >> http://www.stmartins.org/music/music101_forms_weddings.htm
> >
> >Paul,
> >
> >Was "fugue" a word known to Byrd or Tallis? I don't think that word
> >was ever used by Byrd or Tallis to describe any of their compositions,
> >and, before Shakespeare's death, I'd be surprised if it was known at
> >all in England.
> >
> >Sorry if someone else mentioned this. I didn't bother to read the
> >whole thread.
>
> First used in 1597, according to the Shorter Oxford. That is too
> late for Paul Crowley's date, but not for most other people's.
The Italian word "fuga" (verb "fuggire") means flight/fly in the "flee,
escape" sense, not what birds do ("volare" etc).
OED2 has no example of "fugue", noun or verb, as meaning "flee or "flight",
until the psychiatric sense c.1900. The 1597 citation is from Morley, and
describes brief points of imitation rather than anything systematic enough
to be termed a "fugue". Similarly, a "fuguing" hymn tune is one with brief
phrases imitated between upper and lower voices, as in one of the old tunes
for "While shpeherds watched". The first OED citation that could be
describing what is usually called a fugue is from Milton, 1667:
...His volant touch
Instinct through all proportions low and high
Fled and pursu'd transverse the resonant fugue.
This does connect the idea of fleeing and flying ("volant" with "fled",
"pursued") as the organist's fingers chase the fugal subject "transverse"
(along the lines of the score, I assume). Milton was himself an organist,
though by 1667 he could no longer see the score except in his mind's eye.
Whether this is relevant to Sonnet 78 I rather doubt, of course. The "fly"
there seems simply the "bird" or "angel" sense with no implication of
fleeing.
Alan Jones
Paul Crowley
> <snip>
> > 6. . . . . . . . . . aloft TO FLY,
> >
> > The 'to fly' is a complex pun with at least four clear
> > senses: <snip>....
> > (d) ' fly ' = ' fugue '
> >
> > http://www.stmartins.org/music/music101_forms_weddings.htm
> > " Fugue . : Literally "to fly". A polyphonic procedure that
> > depends heavily on the imitation and reappearance
> > of a short melodic theme (the "subject"). In addition
> > to repetition and contrast in the melodic material,
> > the fugue involves considerable modulation of keys.
> > Returns to original key at the end. Steps to the fully
> > developed Baroque fugal form: In the Renaissance,
> > imitation. In the Middle Ages, canon. . . "
> Was "fugue" a word known to Byrd or Tallis?
The OED reports it in Morley's 'Introduction to Music'
of 1597 "We call that a Fuge, when one part
beginneth and the other singeth the same, for
some number of notes (which the first did sing)."
We'd hardly expect to find the first record of a
technical term in music much earlier.
Groves Dictionary of Music describes the form as
having been in existence for about two centuries
before that date. (Sorry, I don't have the text to
hand.) But it's fairly basic polyphony.
> I don't think that word
> was ever used by Byrd or Tallis to describe any of their compositions,
It was an intrinsic part of their compositions.
and they certainly knew the term. I don't think
it was applied to whole works for about
another century -- not perhaps until Bach.
John Harrington
pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz apply ROT13 wrote on 2/6/02 5:52 PM:
Okay, as Morley defined it, yes. But there are, in fact, no fugues as you
defined them in your essay in Byrd's or Tallis' music. I know this because
what you describe is not idiomatic to music of the time.
They both of course used contrapuntal techniques. But polyphony is not
necessarily fugue-writing, not even the kind Morley describes, and you
should be careful to make it clear that you are using the word in the older
sense, rather than giving a contemporary definition.
> and they certainly knew the term.
"Certainly" seems a strong word. But I grant your citation makes it seem
very likely (the fact that this is an introduction to music and Morley says
"we"). But it is more relevant whether the composer of the sonnet knew the
word.
> I don't think
> it was applied to whole works for about
> another century -- not perhaps until Bach.
Composers at least of the generation before Bach (Pachelbel, Buxtehude,
etc.) used the word to describe whole compositions.
John
John W. Kennedy
> Was "fugue" a word known to Byrd or Tallis? I don't think that word
> was ever used by Byrd or Tallis to describe any of their compositions,
> and, before Shakespeare's death, I'd be surprised if it was known at
> all in England.
They would have known Italian "fuga", at any rate. It had been in use
to denote a simple canon at least since the mid-15th century.
--
John W. Kennedy
Read the remains of Shakespeare's lost play, now annotated!
http://pws.prserv.net/jwkennedy/Double%20Falshood.html
Paul Crowley
> The Italian word "fuga" (verb "fuggire") means flight/fly in the "flee,
> escape" sense, not what birds do ("volare" etc).
>
> OED2 has no example of "fugue", noun or verb, as meaning "flee or "flight",
> until the psychiatric sense c.1900. The 1597 citation is from Morley, and
> describes brief points of imitation rather than anything systematic enough
> to be termed a "fugue". Similarly, a "fuguing" hymn tune is one with brief
> phrases imitated between upper and lower voices, as in one of the old tunes
> for "While shpeherds watched". The first OED citation that could be
> describing what is usually called a fugue is from Milton, 1667:
>
> ...His volant touch
> Instinct through all proportions low and high
> Fled and pursu'd transverse the resonant fugue.
>
> This does connect the idea of fleeing and flying ("volant" with "fled",
> "pursued") as the organist's fingers chase the fugal subject "transverse"
> (along the lines of the score, I assume). Milton was himself an organist,
> though by 1667 he could no longer see the score except in his mind's eye.
>
> Whether this is relevant to Sonnet 78 I rather doubt, of course. The "fly"
> there seems simply the "bird" or "angel" sense with no implication of
> fleeing.
The poet was not writing a police report nor
the results of a scientific experiment. He was
having fun with words -- in a sonnet. He was
making up p u n s -- to amuse himself, his
addressee, and us. 'Fugue' = 'Fly' is a pun,
even if (or perhaps, especially if) 'fugue'
is derived from the Italian 'to flee'.
5. Thine eyes, that taught the dumb on high to sing
6. And heavy ignorance aloft to fly,
The principal senses here involve music and
birds (punning on 'Byrd'). Birds sing, music
can be said to sing; birds fly, music can be
said to fly; both can be said to soar aloft. The
fugal compositions of Tallis and Byrd could
especially be said to sing, to fly and to soar
aloft. The question here is (given the scenario)
did the poet have 'fugue' ='fly' in his mind as
well? I would say that he definitely did (and
that he was fully aware of its derivation -- and
their dubiety in a 'strict' sense). IMO it's
remotely (i.e. theoretically) possible that he
didn't; the puns on all the other senses work
well in any case.
Paul Crowley
> >I have a fair bit of duplication, as of course,
> >did the poet. 'Thine eyes that taught' is really
> >all one phrase with, as I see them, four
> >principal (and overlapping) meanings.
> >The phrase 'the dumb on high' is one with
> >three principal meanings (as I see them):
> >(a) Tallis, (b) choirs accompanying music,
> >(c) organ-playing itself (all in the context of
> >Elizabeth's contentions with the prevailing
> >Puritanism of the country).
> So 4 times 3 gives us 12 meanings so far? On the face of it, that
> sounds less extravagant than 288 meanings. But either of them
> exceeds human capacity to comprehend more than one thing at a time,
> which I would estimate at two.
That is an extraordinary statement. You are out-
Kerriganing Kerrigan, and taking reductionism to
extremes. It is not the way language works at all,
even in the most ordinary of exchanges between
two people -- let alone in the sonnets of a great
poet. The first words your wife says to you in the
morning will often convey an enormous amount
of meaning (and as a simple male, you will be
doing well to understand more than a third of it !).
Much may come from the tone and manner, but
there is often a great deal in the words
themselves.
> . .comprehend more than one thing at a time,
> which I would estimate at two.
The word should be 'sense' not 'comprehend'.
Anyone who claims to comprehend, say, all
of Sonnet 116 is no more than a fool.
> >The meanings of the final phrase 'to sing'
> >could be expressed in an enormous number
> >of ways. Above all, it is the expression of joy
> >at the glories of the reign, especially of its
> >music.
> And now we have twelve times an enormous number.
And that is not (or should not be) a problem.
We sense meanings. We would find it
impossible to articulate more than a fraction
of them -- or perhaps, sometimes, any of them.
We react emotively. We like or dislike what we
hear; and our reasons may be hidden,
especially from ourselves.
> >It does not mean any _one_ thing. It has a
> >whole variety of meanings, all at once. Think
> >of it as being something like great music but
> >with, perhaps, a stronger or more immediate
> >connection to the world. You could ask much
> >the same of any of Hamlet's soliloquies. Here
> >its complexities of meaning are akin to those
> >of a polyphonic composition by Byrd or Tallis.
> This is the nub of the matter. "It does not mean any _one_ thing" is
> exactly the proposition I deny. I am entitled to deny it, because I
> am prepared to undertake to extract the one thing that each sonnet
> means and set it out in reasonably plain words.
You may (sometimes quite legitimately) set out
to extract a single meaning, but I am sure that
you would not claim to have exhausted the
entire meaning of every phrase and word.
> That does not mean that I think every sonnet (or any sonnet) can be
> _reduced_ to its "propositional content" (Helen Vendler, page 40).
> That is not the whole story, or the reason why the poem exists. But
> there always is a propositional content, and if we do not grasp that
> for a start then we are off track.
Why can't there be N number of 'propositions'?
You may well set out to extract what you consider
the principal (or even sole) meaning. But you
will rarely IMO be able to cover more than a
small fraction.
> This may not apply to every poem, but it applies to Shakespeare's
> sonnets. Blake can write "What dread hand? And what dread feet?" and
> we are not to enquire too closely into what the feet are doing
> there. Shakespeare does not do that kind of thing.
How do you know this?
> Every sonnet has a coherent argument flowing through it,
How do you know this?
> and I can tell you what that
> argument is. (I am not unique in this, of course: I say it just to
> establish my own good faith.)
Anyone who makes such a claim is simply mistaken.
In many cases, the 'argument' you extract is banal
beyond words -- as is the case for most
commentaries by the traditional commentators.
Also, you have regularly changed your mind.
Vendler admits that " . . some [of the sonnets]
still elude me . ." (page xiv). I know for a fact
(irrespective of Oxfordianism) that she has gone
completely wrong on several.
> Now, it seems you are denying the possibility of what I actually do
> once a week.
I have often found what you set out to do quite
puzzling. Possibly, this is why. One principal
theme or argument _may_ be extractable, but
IMO it is often quite wrong to seek one or set out
to state it. It's like expecting a simple melody in
a work of a great composer. To find one (or to
claim to do so) is often to provide a strong
indication that you have missed the purpose
and the meaning of the work.
It may be a useful exercise -- a way of focussing
on, say, the grammar. But it is no more than an
exercise.
> "Since these sciences actually exist, it is quite
> proper to ask _how_ they are possible, for that they must be
> possible is proved by the fact that they exist" (Kant, Critique of
> Pure Reason, Introduction: in Norman Kemp Smith's translation).
I've no idea what Kant is talking about here.
Does it involve reductionism? That often has
a useful place in the scheme of things -- but
rarely in any interpretation of literature or
history.
> And
> my weekly efforts are not mere fantasy. It is possible to ask and
> answer detailed questions about them, as they themselves consist
> partly in detailed discussion of the commentators whose work I
> possess.
>
> So I am saying that if every phrase has the number of meanings you
> suggest, and no choice is to be made between them, then there is no
> "propositional content" in the sonnets.
You sound as though you're denying that
Shake-speare ever made puns -- or perhaps
you are asserting that they can be ignored.
It is most puzzling. You can make what choice
you like, between alternative meanings. Each
of them has a 'propositional content'.
> Propositionally, they are
> unintelligible. But they are not unintelligible. Therefore, choices
> must be possible.
Of course, choices are possible. I really fail to
see your problem here. How many things was
Hamlet saying in his 'To be or not to be' speech?
How many essays have been written on that
topic? Many of them were good, and arrived at
insightful judgements. But many of those were
utterly different. Some, indeed, were contradictory.
Paul Crowley
> in article ixt88.34305$8s4.1...@news.indigo.ie, Paul Crowley at
> pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz apply ROT13 wrote on 2/6/02 5:52 PM:
> >>> 6. . . . . . . . . . aloft TO FLY,
> >>>
> >>> The 'to fly' is a complex pun with at least four clear
> >>> senses: <snip>....
> >>> (d) ' fly ' = ' fugue '
> >>>
> >>> http://www.stmartins.org/music/music101_forms_weddings.htm
> >>> " Fugue . : Literally "to fly". A polyphonic procedure that
> >>> depends heavily on the imitation and reappearance
> >>> of a short melodic theme (the "subject"). In addition
> >>> to repetition and contrast in the melodic material,
> >>> the fugue involves considerable modulation of keys.
> >>> Returns to original key at the end. Steps to the fully
> >>> developed Baroque fugal form: In the Renaissance,
> >>> imitation. In the Middle Ages, canon. . . "
> Okay, as Morley defined it, yes. But there are, in fact, no fugues as you
> defined them in your essay in Byrd's or Tallis' music. I know this because
> what you describe is not idiomatic to music of the time.
I did this work over Christmas when the libraries
were closed, so I was relying on sources on the
web. I found the chunk quoted above which, as
you imply, was not about Elizabethan music, as
such. Although I cannot see what is inappropriate
about its description of the term 'Fugue' -- but
that's probably due entirely to my ignorance of
music.
> They both of course used contrapuntal techniques. But polyphony is not
> necessarily fugue-writing, not even the kind Morley describes, and you
> should be careful to make it clear that you are using the word in the older
> sense, rather than giving a contemporary definition.
>
> > and they certainly knew the term.
>
> "Certainly" seems a strong word. But I grant your citation makes it seem
> very likely (the fact that this is an introduction to music and Morley says
> "we"). But it is more relevant whether the composer of the sonnet knew the
> word.
We can all agree that he knew music well,
and loved it. It constantly features in the plays.
Knowing what a 'fugue' was would, I think,
fit our conception of the author of those famous
passages on music (as in The Merchant of
Venice)
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins;
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But what opportunity did those outside aristocratic
circles get to listen to the great music of the age --
as we now know it?
Any ideas?
Paul Crowley
> Paul Crowley wrote:
> < < < Yes, you do. If I am straining meaning, then it
> < < < should be child's play to point it out.
> < <
> < < It is.
Except you don't. Why not? The child's play
is a teeny bit too difficult?
> > >What is not child's play is getting you to accept
> < < your misinterpretations as what they are.
Except that you simply don't discuss my
'misinterpretations'. You carefully ignore
every single one.
> < Thank you for your detailed criticism of my
> < exegesis.
>
> Jim, Robert, I and others have given detailed criticisms
> of your previous strainings.
Robert is holding fire, while clarifying some
preliminary points. Jim is indulging in his
usual mindless spamming. You are being
your usual stupid and evasive self.
> Why should we take the
> trouble to continue to point out your foolishness when
> it is obvious that you won't accept our reasoning?
That's a real good excuse for saying nothing.
But why do you bother posting it?
> < I was most impressed by how
> < you pointed out all the alternative possible
> < sense of 'feathers', 'wing' and 'to fly' and
> < how they need not have applied to Byrd
> < or Tallis.
>
> A poet who wanted to praise Byrd or Tallis would
> have done so openly. Why bring either into a poem
> like this for oblique praise?
At last, a reasonable question -- and it's one
that applies, in a broad sense, to the much
of the canon, but especially to the Sonnets.
Why is there NO context whatsover? Why is
there nothing on the Armada, or Cadiz, of the
Essex rebellion, of the death of the Queen, or
the succession of James, or the Guy Fawkes
plot, etc., etc.? Why are we left scrabbling
for the most occasional and obscure of
references, such as:
" . . there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases,
that cry out on the top of question, and are most
tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the
fashion, and so berattle the common stages . ."
The answer can only be that the poet did not
want topical references, because his attitude
to them . . and, by implication, that of his
addressee . . . would facilitate both his and
her identification.
> or, as I previously said in response to:
>
> < < < I maintain that I made a significant discovery over
> < < < Christmas about Sonnet 78 -- in the course of
> < < < some postings to this NG -- that the second
> < < < quatrain is about the other great glory of the
> < < < Elizabethan age -- its music.
> < <
> < < If the quatrain is about Elizabethan music, it is about it
> < < in no poetically valuable or significant way.
>
> Show why I am wrong.
I have not the slightest idea what you are saying.
How come one cannot write a sonnet referring to
the great glories of the age? Were all the poems
referring to the World War I bad? Is every poem
that refers to (or has implications for) any roughly
contemporary events (or things in the real world)
necessarily bad? The Charge of the Light Brigade?
Kubla Khan? Comus? Paradise Lost? Childe
Harold? The Ballad of Reading Gaol?
> < < < Is there any possible rational basis for making
> < < < an objective decision on this issue? Is there a
> < < < discovery or isn't there? I maintain there is.
> < < < I say that I have found the key to the lock, and
> < < < not merely does it fit into it perfectly, it actually
> < < < turns the bolt, smoothly and silently.
> < < <
> < < < How is such a claim to be tested?
>
> Here you ask a question and I attempt to answer, with some
> empathy for you as a beleaguered proponent of a minority view--
Beleaguered? BS. Do you think I expected
anything better from Strats? (Or from anti-
Strats for that matter?)
> though I also clearly make known my low opinion of your view.
> You refuse to respond to my answer, naturally. Here it is again,
> anyway:
>
> < < If your interpretation works for others, fine. If it does not
> < < work for the majority of other intelligent readers, it is
> < < probably wrong.
What an unbelievably stupid thing to say.
No. I'll take that back. It's just Grumman again.
Quite believable -- if completely stupid. So
anyone who ever finds out a new fact must
obviously be wrong. After all, no one could
agree with her or him. That wipes out the
whole of science. Let's forget the wheel and
all that technical nonsense.
> < < However, if you yourself had ever given evidence
> < < of an talent for literary criticism--for instance, by writing a
> < < few essays that others found useful on any poetry besides
> < < Shakespeare and Shakespeare-related poetry--there would be
> < < grounds for giving your interpretations more respect.
More BS.
> < < On
> < < another thread, I tried to figure out how one could tell
> < < one was not a crackpot. What I said is applicable to
> < < figuring out whether one's poetry analysis is of value or
> < < not. I'm close to being considered a crank for the high
> < < rating I give such forms of burstnorm poetry as visual poetry;
> < < but I've written on Robert Duncan for an academic magazine, and
> < < do regular reviews of haiku collections for the leading haiku
> < < magazine in the US so can have SOME confidence, I believe, in
> < < my ability to analize the Sonnets (though, frankly, I don't have
> < < as much confidence that I can get my OWN poems right as you
> < < have that you can get Shakespeare's right). What can you say
> < < about yourself that would suggest that your babble about the
> < < sonnets may be of any value, that would suggest that I who
> < < have read what you've said should not have dismissed it?
You will have noticed (sorry, take that back) --
you will NOT have noticed that you have
sedulously AVOIDED dealing with my
exegesis of Sonnet 78. The "child's play"
somehow always turns out to be something
you just never get around to coping with.
Bob Grumman
interpretations of Sonnet 78, something I lack the inclination
to do because I know in advance that he won't accept anything
I say.
> Except that you simply don't discuss my
> 'misinterpretations'. You carefully ignore
> every single one. --Paul
Right--I've never dared tell you that your interpretation of
"he" as "she" is wrong, knowing that your refutation of my
claim would make me look silly.
snip
> > Why should we take the
> > trouble to continue to point out your foolishness when
> > it is obvious that you won't accept our reasoning?
>
> That's a real good excuse for saying nothing.
> But why do you bother posting it?
To let you know why I don't make any effort to argue with
you about your latest misinterpretations in a post in which
I say other things.
> > < I was most impressed by how
> > < you pointed out all the alternative possible
> > < sense of 'feathers', 'wing' and 'to fly' and
> > < how they need not have applied to Byrd
> > < or Tallis.
No poet brings so many extra senses of words into a poem in
order to so vaguely compliment some unnamed person who has
nothing to do with the fore-burden of the poem (which is
close to what Vendler probably means by "propositional
statement"). You would know this if you had ever seriously
analyzed a poem for any reason other than to support your
rigidniplex about who wrote Shakespeare or knew, first-hand,
the slightest thing about writing poetry.
> > A poet who wanted to praise Byrd or Tallis would
> > have done so openly. Why bring either into a poem
> > like this for oblique praise?
>
> At last, a reasonable question -- and it's one
> that applies, in a broad sense, to the much
> of the canon, but especially to the Sonnets.
> Why is there NO context whatsover?
It's called, "art," Paul--more exactly, "artistic classicism,"
or the universalization of experience by separating it from
its trivial details.
> Why is
> there nothing on the Armada, or Cadiz, of the
> Essex rebellion, of the death of the Queen, or
> the succession of James, or the Guy Fawkes
> plot, etc., etc.? Why are we left scrabbling
> for the most occasional and obscure of
> references, such as:
>
> " . . there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases,
> that cry out on the top of question, and are most
> tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the
> fashion, and so berattle the common stages . ."
>
> The answer can only be that the poet did not
> want topical references, because his attitude
> to them . . and, by implication, that of his
> addressee . . . would facilitate both his and
> her identification.
No, Paul. The most probable but not only answer is that
the poet was more interested in his stories or theses
than in the kind of moronic details of his autobiography
you think he was. I might add that it is only biographers
who scrabble for these kind of details, not lovers of
poetry and the drama.
> > or, as I previously said in response to:
> >
> > < < < I maintain that I made a significant discovery over
> > < < < Christmas about Sonnet 78 -- in the course of
> > < < < some postings to this NG -- that the second
> > < < < quatrain is about the other great glory of the
> > < < < Elizabethan age -- its music.
> > < <
> > < < If the quatrain is about Elizabethan music, it is about it
> > < < in no poetically valuable or significant way.
> >
> > Show why I am wrong.
All I can say is that it says nothing poetically illuminating about
Elizabethan music except that the poet (if you are correct) irrelevantly
liked it. What do you think it said about it that is of any poetic
value?
> I have not the slightest idea what you are saying.
> How come one cannot write a sonnet referring to
> the great glories of the age?
I'm saying that if one were sane and wanted to do that,
one would do so, either with a poem whose subject was those
glories, or some specific reference to some such glory. Keats,
for isntance, celebrates Balboa's discovery of the Pacific
(incorrectly) by directly speaking of it, not with some
vague reference to a "vastness blueness," say, that only
you have correctly interpreted.
> Were all the poems referring to the World War I bad?
What kind of idiotic jump is this? I say that oblique
references to Byrd, etc., are not the kind of things real
poets do, so I must mean that no real poet would make any
reference to anything in history?
> > < < < Is there any possible rational basis for making
> > < < < an objective decision on this issue? Is there a
> > < < < discovery or isn't there? I maintain there is.
> > < < < I say that I have found the key to the lock, and
> > < < < not merely does it fit into it perfectly, it actually
> > < < < turns the bolt, smoothly and silently.
> > < < <
> > < < < How is such a claim to be tested?
> >
> > Here you ask a question and I attempt to answer, with some
> > empathy for you as a beleaguered proponent of a minority view--
>
> Beleaguered? BS. Do you think I expected
> anything better from Strats? (Or from anti-
> Strats for that matter?)
You should expect that SOMEone would see the logic of your
interpretation.
> > < < If your interpretation works for others, fine. If it does not
> > < < work for the majority of other intelligent readers, it is
> > < < probably wrong.
>
> What an unbelievably stupid thing to say.
> No. I'll take that back. It's just Grumman again.
> Quite believable -- if completely stupid. So
> anyone who ever finds out a new fact must
> obviously be wrong.
Ooops, yes, that DOES follow, doesn't it.
> After all, no one could
> agree with her or him. That wipes out the
> whole of science. Let's forget the wheel and
> all that technical nonsense.
> > < < However, if you yourself had ever given evidence
> > < < of an talent for literary criticism--for instance, by writing a
> > < < few essays that others found useful on any poetry besides
> > < < Shakespeare and Shakespeare-related poetry--there would be
> > < < grounds for giving your interpretations more respect.
>
> More BS.
Why? You are sure you're right, but can't claim expertise as
either a literary critic or poet, and can't get anyone to accept
your interpretations. Why, other than bull-headed certainty that
you're right and everyone else wrong, makes you think anyone should
bother with your interpretations? Oh, and ingenuity in always
being able to answer arguments, regardless of the idiocy of your
answers. But anyone can answer arguments, Paul: the problem is
always to get others EVENTUALLY to agree with you.
> > < < On
> > < < another thread, I tried to figure out how one could tell
> > < < one was not a crackpot. What I said is applicable to
> > < < figuring out whether one's poetry analysis is of value or
> > < < not. I'm close to being considered a crank for the high
> > < < rating I give such forms of burstnorm poetry as visual poetry;
> > < < but I've written on Robert Duncan for an academic magazine, and
> > < < do regular reviews of haiku collections for the leading haiku
> > < < magazine in the US so can have SOME confidence, I believe, in
> > < < my ability to analize the Sonnets (though, frankly, I don't have
> > < < as much confidence that I can get my OWN poems right as you
> > < < have that you can get Shakespeare's right). What can you say
> > < < about yourself that would suggest that your babble about the
> > < < sonnets may be of any value, that would suggest that I who
> > < < have read what you've said should not have dismissed it?
>
> You will have noticed (sorry, take that back) --
> you will NOT have noticed that you have
> sedulously AVOIDED dealing with my
> exegesis of Sonnet 78. The "child's play"
> somehow always turns out to be something
> you just never get around to coping with.
Right, keep reassuring yourself that you aren't a crank, Paul.
But apparently you don't know anything about cranks, although
you're one yourself: they ALWAYS end outlasting their opponents
(except for the cranks among their opponents, if any, which is
unlikely, since cranks spend too much of their time defending their
own rigidniplexes to deal much with others').
John Harrington
I believe the inappropriate part is the idea of a fugue as a separate
work involving the repetition of a short subject, modulating through
keys and returning to the tonic at the end. Morley uses fugue to
describe a technique of polyphony, not separate works. And the
subjects of such Elizabethan polyphony were quite often not short, and
certainly not necessarily short.
The first few words of the definition are really the only ones that
apply to Morley's time: A polyphonic procedure that depends heavily on
.... imitation".
> > They both of course used contrapuntal techniques. But polyphony is not
> > necessarily fugue-writing, not even the kind Morley describes, and you
> > should be careful to make it clear that you are using the word in the older
> > sense, rather than giving a contemporary definition.
> >
> > > and they certainly knew the term.
> >
> > "Certainly" seems a strong word. But I grant your citation makes it seem
> > very likely (the fact that this is an introduction to music and Morley says
> > "we"). But it is more relevant whether the composer of the sonnet knew the
> > word.
>
> We can all agree that he knew music well,
> and loved it. It constantly features in the plays.
> Knowing what a 'fugue' was would, I think,
> fit our conception of the author of those famous
> passages on music (as in The Merchant of
> Venice)
>
> There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st
> But in his motion like an angel sings,
> Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins;
> Such harmony is in immortal souls;
Yes, the plays mention music and the elements of music such as melody
and harmony, but though the description is deep in the sense of being
often impeccably poetic, I wouldn't say it evinces a deep *knowledge*
of anything beyond catches, songs, lute tunes and perhaps the
occasional madrigal.
> But what opportunity did those outside aristocratic
> circles get to listen to the great music of the age --
> as we now know it?
>
> Any ideas?
Depends on what you mean by great music. Madrigals were popular, and
I imagine that church-going Elizabethans heard church music in their
services. In fact, now that I think about it, I can't think of a
category of music of that time that would have been mostly limited to
aristocratic circles.
John
Robert Stonehouse
...
>That is an extraordinary statement. You are out-
>Kerriganing Kerrigan, and taking reductionism to
>extremes.
...
>> . .comprehend more than one thing at a time,
>> which I would estimate at two.
>
>The word should be 'sense' not 'comprehend'.
>Anyone who claims to comprehend, say, all
>of Sonnet 116 is no more than a fool.
has an argument that we can comprehend, as well as a wide penumbra
of suggestions, reminders etc. that we are intended to sense (or
something of the kind).
poem. I aim to say the _first_ thing that can be said, the
propositional content.
>> That does not mean that I think every sonnet (or any sonnet) can be
>> _reduced_ to its "propositional content" (Helen Vendler, page 40).
>> That is not the whole story, or the reason why the poem exists. But
>> there always is a propositional content, and if we do not grasp that
>> for a start then we are off track.
>
>Why can't there be N number of 'propositions'?
propositions at once. And that is what we do with propositions, as
opposed to hints, suggestions, and the rest. And because a sonnet is
too long, at 14 lines, to have N number of coherent arguments
flowing through it, from line 1 to line 14.
>You may well set out to extract what you consider
>the principal (or even sole) meaning. But you
>will rarely IMO be able to cover more than a
>small fraction.
>
>> This may not apply to every poem, but it applies to Shakespeare's
>> sonnets. Blake can write "What dread hand? And what dread feet?" and
>> we are not to enquire too closely into what the feet are doing
>> there. Shakespeare does not do that kind of thing.
>
>How do you know this?
By reading the sonnets, twice through, at the rate of one a week.
>
>> Every sonnet has a coherent argument flowing through it,
>How do you know this?
By extracting one from each sonnet, at the rate of one a week.
>
>> and I can tell you what that
>> argument is. (I am not unique in this, of course: I say it just to
>> establish my own good faith.)
>
>Anyone who makes such a claim is simply mistaken.
>In many cases, the 'argument' you extract is banal
>beyond words -- as is the case for most
>commentaries by the traditional commentators.
>Also, you have regularly changed your mind.
One person's "banal beyond words" differs from another's. It seems
to me that, by forcing the sonnets into the context of particular
events at court, you degrade and vulgarise them. "The mind, which
has feasted on the luxurious wonders of fiction, has no taste of the
insipidity of truth" (Sam Johnson's Preface).
I change my mind, not regularly, but when it seems to be needed.
There is nothing discreditable in admitting you were wrong - or at
least, refusing to do so is worse.
When you see something actually being done, there is no point in
asking whether it is possible. That is what I quote him for.
...
>You sound as though you're denying that
>Shake-speare ever made puns -- or perhaps
>you are asserting that they can be ignored.
>It is most puzzling. You can make what choice
>you like, between alternative meanings. Each
>of them has a 'propositional content'.
Yes, but not on level terms. There is the argument of the poem and
there are by-plays.
I think the way Shakespeare plays with words amounts to much more
than that he makes puns, for which he has been so much criticized:
"A quibble is to Shakespeare, what luminous vapours are to the
traveller; he follows it at all adventures; it is sure to lead him
out of his way, and sure to engulf him in the mire" (Sam Johnson's
Preface). I find fewer straight puns in the Sonnets than I had
expected, but far more ingenious, complex plays for which the word
"pun" is not adequate. There is room for a study here.
...
ew...@bcs.org.uk
Dr Peter Groves
<Macbeth> is full of references to the latter.
>>Why are we left scrabbling
> > for the most occasional and obscure of
> > references, such as:
> >
> > " . . there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases,
> > that cry out on the top of question, and are most
> > tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the
> > fashion, and so berattle the common stages . ."
> >
> > The answer can only be that the poet did not
> > want topical references, because his attitude
> > to them . . and, by implication, that of his
> > addressee . . . would facilitate both his and
> > her identification.
>
The mayor and all his brethren in best sort,
Like to the senators of the antique Rome,
With the plebeians swarming at their heels,
Go forth and fetch their conquering Caesar in:
As, by a lower but loving likelihood,
Were now the general of our gracious empress [i.e. Essex],
As in good time he may, from Ireland coming,
Bringing rebellion broached on his sword,
How many would the peaceful city quit,
To welcome him! (Henry V, Act V, chorus)
Bob Grumman
DID insert topicalities. My claim was that this kind of thing
was very secondary for him. I think he, like any writer,
referred to such things when he could without muddling his
story or thesis, but that by far his primary purpose was
his central narrative, or the equivalent for lyric poetry.
Of course, the entire topic is complex. My somewhat simplistic
arguments were directed at Paul's notion of not only huge numbers
of vaguely hinted-at topicalities but their importance.
Robert Stonehouse
>Peter presents valid evidence that Shakespeare, on occasion,
>DID insert topicalities. My claim was that this kind of thing
>was very secondary for him. I think he, like any writer,
>referred to such things when he could without muddling his
>story or thesis, but that by far his primary purpose was
>his central narrative, or the equivalent for lyric poetry.
>
>Of course, the entire topic is complex. My somewhat simplistic
>arguments were directed at Paul's notion of not only huge numbers
>of vaguely hinted-at topicalities but their importance.
In the sonnets, which are the subject of this thread, references are
very rare, and Paul Crowley is right to point it out. The sonnets
are written at an extraordinarily high level of abstraction and it
does call for comment - if we have a reason to suggest for it.
So far, I suspect that the poet wanted to give these poems the
widest possible applicability; they were his hope of immortality, he
wanted them to be useful to as many people as possible. But this is
only the germ of an idea - it may never germinate.
ew...@bcs.org.uk
Paul Crowley
> "Paul Crowley" <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> wrote:
> >Robert Stonehouse <ew...@bcs.org.uk> wrote in message news:3c62274c...@news.demon.co.uk...
> (We ar in danger of losing the information about who said what.)
?? Count the arrows. In this post, I'm the
even numbers and you are the odd ones.
In any case, I usually write in short lines
and you use long ones.
> >> That does not mean that I think every sonnet (or any sonnet) can be
> >> _reduced_ to its "propositional content" (Helen Vendler, page 40).
> >> That is not the whole story, or the reason why the poem exists. But
> >> there always is a propositional content, and if we do not grasp that
> >> for a start then we are off track.
> >
> >Why can't there be N number of 'propositions'?
> Because the human mind cannot express or comprehend N number of
> propositions at once.
This argument might have real weight as regards
the plays, but it breaks down there as well. We
are simply incapable of absorbing the levels of
meaning in most of the canonical plays during
their performance. Many passages have to be read
carefully to come anyway near their full meaning.
Most sonnets require several readings -- even
assuming an extremely high level of comprehension
each time. In many there are complex layers of
meaning, and we can only gasp in wonder at the
poet's ability to combine them all. (This week's
sonnet 85 is one such, but it is one on which I am
going to say no more for the present.)
> And that is what we do with propositions, as
> opposed to hints, suggestions, and the rest.
I don't think you can properly draw such a fine
distinction -- except in terms of themes that run
throughout the sonnet, as against those
expressed within a few lines.
> And because a sonnet is
> too long, at 14 lines, to have N number of coherent arguments
> flowing through it, from line 1 to line 14.
OK, there may not be many with more than two
themes running through the whole of the 14
lines. I would say that many (most?) have two,
and a few have three -- and that is just the
_main_ themes (although third one 'main theme'
is likely to be in a minor key -- possibly not much
more than a layer of bawdiness). IMO he often
goes off into a minor theme for a quatrain or so.
> >> Blake can write "What dread hand? And what dread feet?" and
> >> we are not to enquire too closely into what the feet are doing
> >> there. Shakespeare does not do that kind of thing.
> >
> >How do you know this?
> By reading the sonnets, twice through, at the rate of one a week.
That is a basis for opinion, not knowledge.
> >> Every sonnet has a coherent argument flowing through it,
> >How do you know this?
> By extracting one from each sonnet, at the rate of one a week.
You are presuming success _every_ week.
-- A very big presumption.
> >> and I can tell you what that
> >> argument is. (I am not unique in this, of course: I say it just to
> >> establish my own good faith.)
> >
> >Anyone who makes such a claim is simply mistaken.
> >In many cases, the 'argument' you extract is banal
> >beyond words -- as is the case for most
> >commentaries by the traditional commentators.
> >Also, you have regularly changed your mind.
>
> One person's "banal beyond words" differs from another's. It seems
> to me that, by forcing the sonnets into the context of particular
> events at court, you degrade and vulgarise them. "The mind, which
> has feasted on the luxurious wonders of fiction, has no taste of the
> insipidity of truth" (Sam Johnson's Preface).
The truth of Shakespeare's world was enthralling
-- even to us, on the basis of our very limited
knowledge of it -- especially the early and middle
years of Elizabeth's reign. In this thread, I am
pointing out that the second quatrain of Sonnet
78 is about the glories of the music of the reign
under Tallis and Byrd. You may think such an
interpretation is false, and that I am fantasising,
but _if_it_is_possibly_true_ you could not
conceivably suggest that I was 'degrading and
vulgarising' the poem. Or if you did, the only
basis would be your own tin ear for the music of
the day.
No poet could have experienced that music and
failed to remark upon it in the best of his sonnets,
especially if he shared the experience with his
addressee.
> I change my mind, not regularly, but when it seems to be needed.
> There is nothing discreditable in admitting you were wrong
Not at all. But earlier you appeared to be claiming
something close to certain knowledge on the
basis of your readings.
[..]
> >You sound as though you're denying that
> >Shake-speare ever made puns -- or perhaps
> >you are asserting that they can be ignored.
> >It is most puzzling. You can make what choice
> >you like, between alternative meanings. Each
> >of them has a 'propositional content'.
>
> Yes, but not on level terms. There is the argument of the poem and
> there are by-plays.
I would not accept that at all -- as a general rule.
Even if it is the case in particular instances. It
is often very hard to say what (or which) is the
'argument of the poem'.
> I think the way Shakespeare plays with words amounts to much more
> than that he makes puns, for which he has been so much criticized:
> "A quibble is to Shakespeare, what luminous vapours are to the
> traveller; he follows it at all adventures; it is sure to lead him
> out of his way, and sure to engulf him in the mire" (Sam Johnson's
> Preface). I find fewer straight puns in the Sonnets than I had
> expected, but far more ingenious, complex plays for which the word
> "pun" is not adequate. There is room for a study here.
I agree with that. To reduce his meaning to mere
'puns' is to demean it. Partly it is the result of the
exercise of having to point out the range of possible
meanings he attaches to words. To explain what
he 'truly' means in each case one might have to
write out the 288 'propositions' (or whatever the
number was) -- but, of course, that would defeat
the purpose utterly. The ideal reader would see all
those main and subsidiary meanings and need
nothing pointed out.
Paul Crowley
> snip of Paul challenging me to point out his strained
> interpretations of Sonnet 78, something I lack the inclination
> to do because I know in advance that he won't accept anything
> I say.
Whether or not the proposer (of the original idea
or theory) accepts sound criticism is rarely a
consideration in forums of this nature. When
did it last happen in this newsgroup? You know,
(as does everyone else around here) that you are
making up an excuse for ducking the challenge --
and one that is not in the least bit credible.
Of course, much the same goes for the other
Strats around here. They either keep their lips
buttoned, or they shout meaningless abuse --
after the fashion of KQKnave.
< snip of Grumman's waffle>
> > You will have noticed (sorry, take that back) --
> > you will NOT have noticed that you have
> > sedulously AVOIDED dealing with my
> > exegesis of Sonnet 78. The "child's play"
> > somehow always turns out to be something
> > you just never get around to coping with.
>
> Right, keep reassuring yourself that you aren't a crank, Paul.
> But apparently you don't know anything about cranks, although
> you're one yourself: they ALWAYS end outlasting their opponents
> (except for the cranks among their opponents, if any, which is
> unlikely, since cranks spend too much of their time defending their
> own rigidniplexes to deal much with others').
There are plenty of cranks around here, and they
seem to get a lot of attention. It rather surprises
me that they should, and I rarely read the threads
in which they are apparently endlessly abused for
the absurdity of their ideas. Although sometimes
such an activity can be the basis of a useful
discussion, in that you can clarify your own ideas
while attacking theirs. But I am still waiting for
ANYONE to attack the exegesis I posted at the start
of this thread, with something more than the
vaguest of general abuse. It should be, as you
have said, child's play. But no one seems up to it.
KQKnave
<pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
>Most sonnets require several readings -- even
>assuming an extremely high level of comprehension
>each time. In many there are complex layers of
>meaning, and we can only gasp in wonder at the
>poet's ability to combine them all.
The fact that the sonnets contain phrases that are
not clear does not mean that ALL of the phrases
are not clear and should be interpreted as such.
Especially, we should not weave fantasies into
the sonnets, particularly those which involve
the first 126 being written to the Queen, supposedly.
Shakespeare is quite clear on this: they are written
to a young man:
That the sonnets were written to a young man is
obvious from the sonnets themselves, which makes Crowley's
thesis so obviously insane:
Sonnet 3:
"For where is she so fair whose uneared womb/
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?"; Sonnet
9: "Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye/ That thou consum'st
thyself in single life?"; Sonnet 16: "And many maiden
gardens yet unset,/ With virtuous wish would bear your
living flowers."; Sonnet 20:
A woman's face with nature's own hand painted,
Hast thou the master mistress of my passion,
A woman's gentle heart but not acquainted
With shifting change as is false women's fashion,
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling:
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth,
A man in hue all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created,
Till nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated,
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.
But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure,
Mine be thy love and thy love's use their treasure.
Sonnet 32:
"O then vouchsafe me but this loving thought,
'Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age,
A dearer birth than this his love had brought
To march in ranks of better equipage:
But since he died and poets better prove,
Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love'.";
Sonnet 33: "Even so my sun one early morn did shine,
With all triumphant splendour on my brow,
But out alack, he was but one hour mine,
The region cloud hath masked him from me now.
Yet him for this, my love no whit disdaineth,";
Sonnet 41: "Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed.
And when a woman woos, what woman's son,
Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed?
Ay me, but yet thou mightst my seat forbear,
And chide thy beauty, and thy straying youth,
Who lead thee in their riot even there
Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth:
Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,";
Sonnet 42: "That thou hast her it is not all my grief,
And yet it may be said I loved her dearly,
That she hath thee is of my wailing chief,
A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye,
Thou dost love her, because thou know'st I love her,";
Sonnet 54: "And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,";
Sonnet 126: "O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy pow'r/
Dost hold time's fickle glass."
Robert Stonehouse
>Robert Stonehouse <ew...@bcs.org.uk> wrote in message news:3c63844e...@news.demon.co.uk...
>> "Paul Crowley" <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> wrote:
>> >Robert Stonehouse <ew...@bcs.org.uk> wrote in message news:3c62274c...@news.demon.co.uk...
>> And that is what we do with propositions, as
>> opposed to hints, suggestions, and the rest.
>I don't think you can properly draw such a fine
>distinction -- except in terms of themes that run
>throughout the sonnet, as against those
>expressed within a few lines.
the things I am saying is this. What is said in each line must
contribute to what is being said in the poem as a whole, and that
governs how we are to understand each line. The poet uses this. Very
many of his opening lines are deceptive or unintelligible on their
own. Nearly every time, we need to read on before we can get line 1
straight.
...
>> >> Blake can write "What dread hand? And what dread feet?" and
>> >> we are not to enquire too closely into what the feet are doing
>> >> there. Shakespeare does not do that kind of thing.
>> >How do you know this?
>> By reading the sonnets, twice through, at the rate of one a week.
>That is a basis for opinion, not knowledge.
magic way to understand the sonnets without reading them? If reading
them can only produce opinion, not knowledge, then there is no point
in this discussion or any other about them. But in fact it is
possible to discuss things about them and arrive at conclusions,
though only be careful attention to the words and not by free
imagination.
...
>You are presuming success _every_ week.
>-- A very big presumption.
success is enough to support general statements. So I can say "This
is what Shakespeare does" and at the same time "In this particular
poem I can't make out what he is doing". Or I can say "I was wrong
about that poem, but the general thesis stands".
Note that I do not propound a Universal General Theory of Everything
in the Sonnets. But by now I can make a few general statements about
them.
...
>No poet could have experienced that music and
>failed to remark upon it in the best of his sonnets,
>especially if he shared the experience with his
>addressee.
What no poet could have failed to do is not an argument. Read the
poems. What did this poet in fact do? He mentions music (sonnet 8,
73.4, 128) but names no musicians any more than he names anyone
else. (He is no musical expert. Sonnet 128 is wrong about the
functions of parts of the harpsichord.)
We need to explain why there are no references to known persons, as
we need to explain the generally high level of abstraction at which
the sonnets are written. At the moment I am only struggling towards
an explanation, thinking that perhaps he was writing "not for an
age, but for all time" and so avoided tying himself down to
particulars. Or maybe not.
...
ew...@bcs.org.uk
Paul Crowley
> "Bob Grumman" <bobgr...@nut-n-but.net> wrote:
>
> >Peter presents valid evidence that Shakespeare, on occasion,
> >DID insert topicalities.
That passage in Henry V is generally agreed to be
a late insertion. It does not sound in the least
authorial to me -- not in its subject matter, not in its
tone, not in its verse.
> My claim was that this kind of thing
> >was very secondary for him. I think he, like any writer,
> >referred to such things when he could without muddling his
> >story or thesis, but that by far his primary purpose was
> >his central narrative, or the equivalent for lyric poetry.
> >
> >Of course, the entire topic is complex. My somewhat simplistic
> >arguments were directed at Paul's notion of not only huge numbers
> >of vaguely hinted-at topicalities but their importance.
>
> In the sonnets, which are the subject of this thread, references are
> very rare, and Paul Crowley is right to point it out. The sonnets
> are written at an extraordinarily high level of abstraction and it
> does call for comment - if we have a reason to suggest for it.
They are NOT written at a high level of abstraction
-- in the sense in which we'd normally understand
those words. The poet rarely writes of 'poetical
concepts' and leaves it at that -- a poem to a
daffodil, or to sunrise, or the seasons -- the kind
of thing that attracts great flocks of amateurs. He
clearly disdains that approach to poetry.
The great majority of the sonnets were written by
one person to another on a particular occasion --
often the occasion is fairly clearly indicated: e.g.
a parting and a journey by horse. But what is
astonishing, is that no identifiable external events
(nor even theoretically identifiable events) in their
lives are allowed to intrude. The relationship
clearly lasted many years, during which both their
lives would have been affected by all kinds of
national and personal matters -- yet there is not
a word about them. Think of any letters you have
sent (or might have sent had you been writing)
to someone very close to you over the last three
or four years. How, for example, could you not
have referred to September 11 and all that arose
from it over the last five months? How could you
have avoided all the personal issues in each of
your lives over those years -- the illnesses or
deaths of relatives? -- the marriages and births?
the dangers faced in various actions or
contemplated actions?
Pick up any anthology of poetry and see the
difference between any random selection you
care to make, and the Sonnets. You can't miss it.
It is inconceivable that he wrote those sonnets, in
such a manner as to exclude all such references,
without very conscious deliberation. Any serious
attempt to understand what the poet is saying must
incorporate possible reasons or scenarios for this
pervasive and dominating element.
But how many do?
> So far, I suspect that the poet wanted to give these poems the
> widest possible applicability; they were his hope of immortality, he
> wanted them to be useful to as many people as possible.
If that had been his aim, then he went about it in a
most peculiar manner. Why make so many of the
poems so _personal_? Why make so many of
them so obscure?
Bob Grumman
> have referred to September 11 and all that arose
> from it over the last five months? How could you
> have avoided all the personal issues in each of
> your lives over those years -- the illnesses or
> deaths of relatives? -- the marriages and births?
> the dangers faced in various actions or
> contemplated actions?
Paul, some poets write about these trivial kinds of
topicalities; few in Shakespeare's time did. Shakespeare
did not. I do not in my poetry.
Here's an example:
Her Willingnesses
Half a chorus below noon
Poem pterumbled through
the splurged willingnesses
she'd uncandled on the steps
of his ...ctatio...
An aria lower, he fused with
long-abandoned blueberry guesses
in a shadowy field
piss-colored cottages had exhaled
somewhere in Massachusetts.
Nuns on black bicycles were everywhere.
(Note: "Poem" is the name of this and many of
my poems' persona.)
This, take my word for it, was inspired by a break-up.
She was Catholic, and I hold some of our problems due
to her Catholic morality--hence (I guess) the nuns.
We went strawberry picking once, but blueberries worked
better in this mood and scene (for me). I'm sure if I
really worked at it, I could figure out five or ten other
specific references. Few of them, by the way, to the
central event, the break-up, but most to the relationship,
though a few not, but to unhappinesses like the one the
break-up caused me, etc. I would never expect a reader to be
able, or to care, to figure out these references. One
thing I would hope a poem of mine would do would be to
connect in some way to one reading it--which it would have
more chance of doing if shorn of topicalities. (Generally.)
My poem is very personal but will seem obscure to people
like you. I have no reason to believe Shakespeare was
not similar to me in the kind of use he made of biographical
particulars. I don't work to exclude particulars, but do so
automatically, not being interested in them.
snip
> It is inconceivable that he wrote those sonnets, in
> such a manner as to exclude all such references,
> without very conscious deliberation.
inconceivable?
All such references? He put what he needed of such
references into his poems to set up their scenes, and
he needed little; he certainly didn't need enough to
allow poetry-lovers to identify and be distracted by
trivial topical details.
> Any serious
> attempt to understand what the poet is saying must
> incorporate possible reasons or scenarios for this
> pervasive and dominating element.
All do: the fact that he was a poet uninterested in journalistically
satisfying Philistines.
> But how many do?
>
> > So far, I suspect that the poet wanted to give these poems the
> > widest possible applicability; they were his hope of immortality, he
> > wanted them to be useful to as many people as possible.
>
> If that had been his aim, then he went about it in a
> most peculiar manner. Why make so many of the
> poems so _personal_?
They aren't, anymore than mine is/isn't--or Wordsworth's poem
about the daffodils is obscure because we have no idea (I don't
think) as to where he saw his daffodils, and exactly how many
of them there were, and what day he saw them on, and what
his sovreign was doing at the time.
> Why make so many of them so obscure?
He didn't make them obscure. He wrote poetry, which is enriched
language, which is almost always difficult, and he wrote four hundred
years ago.
We're into an old argument between us, Paul, so I probably won't
continue in it. You can claim I dropped out because you were too
intimidatingly brilliant an opponent, if you want to, though.
Paul Crowley
> > How, for example, could you not
> > have referred to September 11 and all that arose
> > from it over the last five months? How could you
> > have avoided all the personal issues in each of
> > your lives over those years -- the illnesses or
> > deaths of relatives? -- the marriages and births?
> > the dangers faced in various actions or
> > contemplated actions?
>
> Paul, some poets write about these trivial kinds of
> topicalities; few in Shakespeare's time did. Shakespeare
> did not. I do not in my poetry.
But Shakespeare DOES include 'topicalities'.
There are so many that it is invidious to pick one,
but here's one:
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your sweet semblance to some other give.
He is talking about the addressee's forthcoming
death (at some point) and the need for an heir.
Check the standard commentaries to see that
most people think he refers to many 'topicalities'.
many of a much more pedestrian nature.
> Her Willingnesses
>
> Half a chorus below noon
> Poem pterumbled through
> the splurged willingnesses
> she'd uncandled on the steps
> of his ...ctatio...
>
> An aria lower, he fused with
> long-abandoned blueberry guesses
> in a shadowy field
> piss-colored cottages had exhaled
> somewhere in Massachusetts.
> Nuns on black bicycles were everywhere.
That is unintelligible garbage, and a world away
from Shakespeare's poetry. No one would expect
to find sense in there; it is not your intention to
provide it. But Shakespeare did intend sense.
He could never have written a word of the kind of
modern meaninglessness you (and so many
others) churn out. Yet he removes most of the
usual anchors. He quite deliberately obscures the
gender of the addressee (although we can readily
establish it by seeing how all male activities,
clothing, etc., are excluded).
> > It is inconceivable that he wrote those sonnets, in
> > such a manner as to exclude all such references,
> > without very conscious deliberation.
>
> inconceivable?
>
> All such references? He put what he needed of such
> references into his poems to set up their scenes, and
> he needed little; he certainly didn't need enough to
> allow poetry-lovers to identify and be distracted by
> trivial topical details.
He put in masses of 'topical details' -- and most
of them do 'distract' the commentators. But, since
they've little or nothing of value to say in any case,
it matters not a whit.
Paul Crowley
> Yes, the plays mention music and the elements of music such as melody
> and harmony, but though the description is deep in the sense of being
> often impeccably poetic, I wouldn't say it evinces a deep *knowledge*
> of anything beyond catches, songs, lute tunes and perhaps the
> occasional madrigal.
The love for music that the playwright evinces seems to
me speak of a knowledge and a familiarity that goes far
beyond " . . catches, songs, lute tunes and perhaps the
occasional madrigal".
> > But what opportunity did those outside aristocratic
> > circles get to listen to the great music of the age --
> > as we now know it?
> >
> > Any ideas?
>
> Depends on what you mean by great music. Madrigals were popular,
They needed good (and I think highly-trained) singers.
I don't see them in many taverns, or even in the
playhouses. They seem to me to be exactly the sort
of artists that would be called up on by the aristocracy
for their entertainment, but who would find it hard to
earn much outside the houses of the grand.
> and
> I imagine that church-going Elizabethans heard church music in their
> services.
After the Puritan 'revolution' of the 1560s there was
little in churches to stimulate a deep love of music.
> In fact, now that I think about it, I can't think of a
> category of music of that time that would have been mostly limited to
> aristocratic circles.
I'm sure that I have an over-simplified view of the
historical situation, but it does seem to me that
if you could not hear the performances of the
great music of Tallis and Byrd you would miss
much of it. And the principal way you were likely
to hear those would be at the Chapel Royal itself.
Tallis's Spem in Alium (for 40 voices) could hardly
be heard elsewhere. Byrd's compositions in
Latin likewise were unlikely to be heard outside
of it.
This is from Paul Johson's Elizabeth (pages 204/5)
Foreigners were particularly impressed by the excellence
of the music and singing in the chapel royal. Henry Remelius,
ambassador from Denmark in 1584, heard the Office at
Greenwich 'so melodiously sung and said... as a man half-
dead might thereby have been quickened'. A French
ambassador, Champagny, said of the service at Eltham,
'in all my travels in France, Italy and Spain, I never heard the
like.., a concert of music so excellent and sweet as cannot be
expressed'.
The standards of the chapel royal, and indeed of English
music in general, were not maintained without great difficulty,
and against strenuous opposition. Indeed, Elizabeth may be
said to have saved English music, which had been
internationally famous since the early fifteenth century, from
Puritan destruction. The Reformers objected to elaborate
polyphonic music, in which the words were drowned in a
multitude of notes; as Cranmer said to Henry VIII, there
ought to be, 'for every syllable a note, so that it may be sung
distinctly and devoutly'. They preferred instead the simple
settings for the metrical psalms, which could be sung by
massed congregations: Bishop Jewell told Peter Martyr in
1560 that 'sometimes at St Paul's Cross there will be
6,000 people singing together' - rather like Welsh rugby
crowds today. It was all part of the Puritan demand for
participation, as opposed to a hieratic performance, in
religious ceremonies. Elizabeth did not dislike the psalm-
singing, indeed she translated some of the psalms herself.
But she was determined to keep up the polyphony. . .
She probably regarded the music composed for her chapel
royal as a greater glory of her realm than the poetry and
plays of her age. In addition to Tallis and Byrd, she employed
John Bull, Thomas Morley and the great organist Christopher
Tye . . . At her accession, she inherited 32 adult chapel
singers, 12 boys, and 41 instrumentalists, about half of them
from famous North Italian musical families. These families,
such as the Bassanos and Laniers, continued in her employ
throughout her reign (there were six Bassanos and six Laniers
still at court in 1603), but she also sent her agents to all
provincial cathedrals and collegiate churches, to recruit
singers, especially boys. Elizabeth's love of music undoubtedly
influenced her religious policy, for all the foreign musicians
and composers, and a great many of the native ones, were
Catholics. One reason why she liked the Earl of Worcester,
whom she eventually made Master of the Horse, despite the
fact that he was (as she put it) a 'stiff papist', was that he was
devoted to music, and Byrd's best patron. She drew the line at
Dowland, because of his publicly-known Catholicism, and
refused to employ him; but she protected most Catholic
musicians, and even allowed Byrd to compose in Latin as well
as English.
The appearance, no less than the voices, of Elizabeth's chapel
boys incensed Puritans; they were part of 'the enormities of the
Queen's closet'. The Puritans drew the connection between the
chapel royal and the theatre. . . ."
Bob Grumman
> There are so many that it is invidious to pick one,
> but here's one:
> Against this coming end you should prepare,
> And your sweet semblance to some other give.
>
> He is talking about the addressee's forthcoming
> death (at some point) and the need for an heir.
I fail to understand your point. The gist of the poem's
foreburden is that the addressee will die eventually, so
should leave behind a replica of himself. Simple universal
theme requiring no specific actors, the addressee being
Anyman (who happens to be considered attractive).
> Check the standard commentaries to see that
> most people think he refers to many 'topicalities'.
> many of a much more pedestrian nature.
There are topicalities, I suppose, but they are of little
AESTHETIC relevance to the poem. Because people are naturally
ALSO interested in Shakespeare, they are curious about these
possible topicalities, anyway. Another factor is that the
Sonnets have long been scholardized to near-death, leaving
academics eager to make a mark little but topicalities to
work over. There is also the fact that some passages have
become obscure over time, and might be clarified if certain
otherwise very minor topicalities could be identified. But
for full reasonable appreciation of the sonnets, one need know
very little about those.
>
> > Her Willingnesses
> >
> > Half a chorus below noon
> > Poem pterumbled through
> > the splurged willingnesses
> > she'd uncandled on the steps
> > of his ...ctatio...
> >
> > An aria lower, he fused with
> > long-abandoned blueberry guesses
> > in a shadowy field
> > piss-colored cottages had exhaled
> > somewhere in Massachusetts.
> > Nuns on black bicycles were everywhere.
>
> That is unintelligible garbage, and a world away
> from Shakespeare's poetry.
Right. As you doubtlessly were aware, I put it out
into cyber-space to get you to prove yourself, once
again, a total Philistine--as all rigidniks are. Not
for disliking the poem, but for refusing to make
any attempt to appreciate it--and, of course, for
desparaging it without identifying what is wrong with
it. For what it's worth, I consider it one of my best
conventional poems. Oh, and though it may be garbage, it
is definitely intelligible--though about something you
would consider banal--a woman's capturing a man with
her willingnesses, then turning off (uncandling) the latter,
making him Not Happy. It is entirely of no account who the
woman is, or exactly what happened; what is significant
aesthetically is what's sensually there due to the mix
of imagery, the size of the diction, etc. This may prove to
be nothing, but you haven't the knowledge of poetry to
determine whether it is or not.
> No one would expect
> to find sense in there; it is not your intention to
> provide it.
Only a rigidnik would claim to know the mind of another so well,
or be able to generalize with such arrogant certainty about a
whole class of other people, in this case, those poets not
writing poetry in the manner of Shakespeare.
> But Shakespeare did intend sense.
Probably, since all poets intend sense of one kind or another,
including the only kind you are able to consider. But you
can't speak for him any more than you can speak for me.
> He could never have written a word of the kind of
> modern meaninglessness you (and so many
> others) churn out.
I rather suspect that he could--and would delight in doing
so.
> Yet he removes most of the
> usual anchors. He quite deliberately obscures the
> gender of the addressee (although we can readily
> establish it by seeing how all male activities,
> clothing, etc., are excluded).
No, Paul, we can readily establish it by observing something
called pronouns--as in my poem.
> > > It is inconceivable that he wrote those sonnets, in
> > > such a manner as to exclude all such references,
> > > without very conscious deliberation.
> >
> > inconceivable?
> >
> > All such references? He put what he needed of such
> > references into his poems to set up their scenes, and
> > he needed little; he certainly didn't need enough to
> > allow poetry-lovers to identify and be distracted by
> > trivial topical details.
>
> He put in masses of 'topical details' -- and most
> of them do 'distract' the commentators. But, since
> they've little or nothing of value to say in any case,
> it matters not a whit.
I would agree that most of them have little of FURTHER value
to say, since all the valuable things that could be said about
the sonnets have pretty much been said. But academics like
Vendler have to cling to them to avoid venturing (to any
significant extent) into the more sophisticated poetry of
our own time. Yes, Paul, just as our physics, biology,
painting, etc., are more sophisticated than that of
Shakespeare's time, our poetry has made technical advances.
KQKnave
Grumman" <bobgr...@nut-n-but.net> writes:
>Only a rigidnik would claim to know the mind of another so well,
>or be able to generalize with such arrogant certainty about a
>whole class of other people, in this case, those poets not
>writing poetry in the manner of Shakespeare.
>
Well, this is the guy, after all, who thought that I wrote a
poem to Queen Elizabeth!
Dr Peter Groves
> > But Shakespeare DOES include 'topicalities'.
> > There are so many that it is invidious to pick one,
> > but here's one:
>
> > Against this coming end you should prepare,
> > And your sweet semblance to some other give.
> >
> > He is talking about the addressee's forthcoming
> > death (at some point) and the need for an heir.
>
> I fail to understand your point. The gist of the poem's
> foreburden is that the addressee will die eventually, so
> should leave behind a replica of himself. Simple universal
> theme requiring no specific actors, the addressee being
> Anyman (who happens to be considered attractive).
>
> > Check the standard commentaries to see that
> > most people think he refers to many 'topicalities'.
> > many of a much more pedestrian nature.
>
> There are topicalities, I suppose, but they are of little
> AESTHETIC relevance to the poem. Because people are naturally
> ALSO interested in Shakespeare, they are curious about these
> possible topicalities, anyway. Another factor is that the
> Sonnets have long been scholardized to near-death, leaving
> academics eager to make a mark little but topicalities to
> work over.
By no means -- Vendler's book, to take just one example, is called <The Art
of Shakespeare's Sonnets>, and that's what it's about.
Indeed. Most gender references in the first 126 sonnets are ambiguous (i.e.
androgynous) precisely because (1) the youth himself is androgynous, and
because (2) Shakespeare is playing with the genre (as so often) by
addressing a young man through the courtly love tradition instead of a woman
(this is why they are free from incongruous references to exclusively
masculine pursuits such as hawking):
Thou art thy mothers glasse and she in thee Son. 3.9
Calls backe the louely Aprill of her prime, Son. 3.10
No resaon why a man with rather feminine good looks shouldn't bear some
resemblance to his mother when younger.
However, where the gender references are *un*ambiguous, they are
unambiguously masculine:
For where is she so faire whose vn-eard wombe Son. 3.5
Disdaines the tillage of thy husbandry? Son. 3.6
But I forbid thee one most hainous crime, Son. 19.8
O carue not with thy howers my loues faire brow, Son. 19.9
Nor draw noe lines there with thine antique pen, Son. 19.10
*Him* in thy course vntainted doe allow, Son. 19.11
For beauties patterne to succeding *men*. Son. 19.12; (emphasis mine.)
The youth has a feminine beauty, but not "false woman's" traditional
fickleness; he was created a woman, but Nature thwarted the process by
carelessly adding a prick "for womens pleasure". Not too difficult to
follow, surely?
A Womans face with natures owne hand painted, Son. 20.1
Haste thou the Master Mistris of my passion, Son. 20.2
A womans gentle hart but not acquainted Son. 20.3
With shifting change as is false womens fashion, Son. 20.4
An eye more bright then theirs,lesse false in rowling: Son. 20.5
Gilding the obiect where-vpon it gazeth, Son. 20.6
A man in hew all Hews in his controwling, Son. 20.7
Which steales mens eyes and womens soules amaseth. Son. 20.8
And for a woman wert thou first created, Son. 20.9
Till nature as she wrought thee fell a dotinge, Son. 20.10
And by addition me of thee defeated, Son. 20.11
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing. Son. 20.12
But since she prickt thee out for womens pleasure, Son. 20.13
Mine be thy loue and thy loues vse their treasure. Son. 20.14
Now there's no doubt that "treasure" can be a reference to female sexuality;
it is unambiguously so when he says to the Dark lady "<Will>, will fulfill
the treasure of thy loue," Son. 136.5, the pun on his own name underscored
by the italics. Incidentally, the poem ends
Make but my name thy loue,and loue that still, Son. 136.13
And then thou louest me for my name is <Will>. Son. 136.14
(note to Crowley: <Will>, not <Ed>)
It is also used sexually when he is enjoining the youth to marry, but here
it represents the sperm that will "Make sweet some viall", and also the baby
that will result, which will hoard his beauty's treasure for future years:
THen let not winters wragged hand deface, Son. 6.1
In thee thy summer ere thou be distil'd: Son. 6.2
Make sweet some viall;treasure thou some place, Son. 6.3
With beautits treasure ere it be selfe kil'd: Son. 6.4
But there's no suggestion that he has a vagina.
> > > > It is inconceivable that he wrote those sonnets, in
> > > > such a manner as to exclude all such references,
> > > > without very conscious deliberation.
See above.
> > >
> > > inconceivable?
> > >
> > > All such references? He put what he needed of such
> > > references into his poems to set up their scenes, and
> > > he needed little; he certainly didn't need enough to
> > > allow poetry-lovers to identify and be distracted by
> > > trivial topical details.
> >
> > He put in masses of 'topical details' -- and most
> > of them do 'distract' the commentators. But, since
> > they've little or nothing of value to say in any case,
> > it matters not a whit.
>
> I would agree that most of them have little of FURTHER value
> to say, since all the valuable things that could be said about
> the sonnets have pretty much been said.
See above
> But academics like
> Vendler have to cling to them to avoid venturing (to any
> significant extent) into the more sophisticated poetry of
> our own time.
With respect, this is a little silly. Do you really suppose sophisticated
critics like Stephen Greenblatt or Jonathan Dollimore or Frank Kermode (or
etc. etc. etc.) write about Renaissance poetry because they are hiding from
the task of complex analysis or exegesis? Vendler's main work,
incidentally, has been on modern poetry.
> Yes, Paul, just as our physics, biology,
> painting, etc., are more sophisticated than that of
> Shakespeare's time, our poetry has made technical advances.
>
It's a false analogy. Scientists acheive more complex and sophisticated
understandings by (in part) building on the work of their predecessors --
"standing on the shoulders of giants". Artists too can learn from their
predecessors but they can't assimilate and transcend them. As for technical
advances, if anything we've gone backwards: writing rhythmically interesting
verse without the techniques of metre is something only a few can do well.
In any case the instrument (the English language) hasn't changed radically
(nor, indeed, has the complexity of human interaction); degrees of
sophistication are in the performance, not the instrument
Peter G.
Bob Grumman
> > AESTHETIC relevance to the poem. Because people are naturally
> > ALSO interested in Shakespeare, they are curious about these
> > possible topicalities, anyway. Another factor is that the
> > Sonnets have long been scholardized to near-death, leaving
> > academics eager to make a mark little but topicalities to
> > work over.
>
> By no means -- Vendler's book, to take just one example, is called <The Art
> of Shakespeare's Sonnets>, and that's what it's about.
Right. Actually what most academics writing about the sonnets do
is re-discuss their art without adding much but new terminology,
and quibble over topicalities. I don't know how much topicalitizing
Vendler does (though I've read some of her remarks) but was (probably
wrongly) assuming Paul was right in saying she does it.
snip
> > > He put in masses of 'topical details' -- and most
> > > of them do 'distract' the commentators. But, since
> > > they've little or nothing of value to say in any case,
> > > it matters not a whit.
> >
> > I would agree that most of them have little of FURTHER value
> > to say, since all the valuable things that could be said about
> > the sonnets have pretty much been said.
>
> See above
>
> > But academics like
> > Vendler have to cling to them to avoid venturing (to any
> > significant extent) into the more sophisticated poetry of
> > our own time.
> With respect, this is a little silly.
I agree. Paul got me going. Vendler and the others don't "cling"
to them. I also have my own ax to grind, which is that visible
literary critics prefer to keep going over Shakespeare and other
long-canonized authors rather than deal with contemporary poets.
> Do you really suppose sophisticated
> critics like Stephen Greenblatt or Jonathan Dollimore or Frank Kermode (or
> etc. etc. etc.) write about Renaissance poetry because they are hiding from
> the task of complex analysis or exegesis? Vendler's main work,
> incidentally, has been on modern poetry.
Right--modern, as opposed to contemporary, poetry (meaning poetry
that uses the latest techniques rather than merely poetry composed
by now living).
> > Yes, Paul, just as our physics, biology,
> > painting, etc., are more sophisticated than that of
> > Shakespeare's time, our poetry has made technical advances.
> >
>
> It's a false analogy. Scientists acheive more complex and sophisticated
> understandings by (in part) building on the work of their predecessors --
> "standing on the shoulders of giants". Artists too can learn from their
> predecessors but they can't assimilate and transcend them.
Of course they can. For instance, some painters of today combine
realism equal to that of the old masters with abstract expressionist
devices. And, actually, photographers outdo the old masters in
almost all ways. I know you'll disagree, but consider what they
can photograph now--and animation--and the possibilities for
distortion. Much else. And poets now have not only the forms
Shakespeare had to work with but new forms, and free verse, and all
that's come since free verse though not acknowledged by the Vendlers
of the world--in visual poetry and other forms of what I call burstnorm
poetry. Or take a different literary example: simply compare the
sophistication of what Joyce did in his trilogy with what Homer did
in his Iliad and Odyssey. I'm sure there are a few tricks Homer used
that Joyce didn't (including, of course, the use of verse), and
Homer's work has the advantage over Joyce's that it's been around
much longer and has therefore accreted all kinds of connotations
enriching it (like the Bible) and obscuring its actual primitiveness.
Homer's work to Joyce's is like Archimedes'(huge) work to Newton's,
or Newton's to Einstein's.
> As for technical
> advances, if anything we've gone backwards: writing rhythmically interesting
> verse without the techniques of metre is something only a few can do well.
> In any case the instrument (the English language) hasn't
changed radically
> (nor, indeed, has the complexity of human interaction); degrees of
> sophistication are in the performance, not the instrument.
So a piano is not more sophisticated than a drum? Well, I would claim
that the use of the English language by poets has changed a great
deal over the past century thanks to people like Joyce, even before
Finnegans Wake, and Cummings, and Pound. My simple poem (which you
are too polite to agree with Paul about) is one of my least
burstnorm poems, but still there are four or five devices unknown
to Shakespeare, and important.
Ooops, time to go substitute teach.
--Bob G.
John W. Kennedy
> exclusively
> masculine pursuits such as hawking):
??????
> It's a false analogy. Scientists acheive more complex and sophisticated
> understandings by (in part) building on the work of their predecessors --
> "standing on the shoulders of giants". Artists too can learn from their
> predecessors but they can't assimilate and transcend them.
I don't think I can accept that wholly. Surely a good deal
between-the-wars English poetry rather takes that sort of thing for its
basis.
> As for technical
> advances, if anything we've gone backwards: writing rhythmically interesting
> verse without the techniques of metre is something only a few can do well.
Yes, one does grow tired of the reams of supposed "vers libre" that is
nothing but prose with queer typography.
> In any case the instrument (the English language) hasn't changed radically
I wonder. The records of this sort of thing are so few. When did
silent reading become the norm? I know that it's the norm now, and that
it was almost unheard of in the 4th century, but just when did it come
in?
Paul Crowley
>
> Bob Grumman <bobgr...@nut-n-but.net> wrote in message
> news:8792c58d5e34fe578b5...@mygate.mailgate.org...
> > > But Shakespeare DOES include 'topicalities'.
> > > There are so many that it is invidious to pick one,
> > > but here's one:
> >
> > > Against this coming end you should prepare,
> > > And your sweet semblance to some other give.
> > >
> > > He is talking about the addressee's forthcoming
> > > death (at some point) and the need for an heir.
> >
> > I fail to understand your point. The gist of the poem's
> > foreburden is that the addressee will die eventually, so
> > should leave behind a replica of himself. Simple universal
> > theme requiring no specific actors, the addressee being
> > Anyman (who happens to be considered attractive).
That was from the first 17 sonnets, each of which
contains a desperate and explicit message --
"For God's sake (and for ours) have an heir, and
do so immediately"
> > > Check the standard commentaries to see that
> > > most people think he refers to many 'topicalities'.
> > > many of a much more pedestrian nature.
> >
> > There are topicalities, I suppose, but they are of little
> > AESTHETIC relevance to the poem.
Rubbish. I suppose that you say all the 'topicalities'
of the plays have no aesthetic relevance. Or would
you say that plays have to be judged on totally different
criteria? (Or do you judge tragedies on totally different
criteria from comedies?) Shakespeare, as you ought
to know, disdained ALL of those kinds of distinctions.
He did not put 'poetry' in a special box -- held apart
from the rest of existence. That sort of attitude is the
product of soft thinking by weak brains. So it's probably
something to which you subscribe.
> > Because people are naturally
> > ALSO interested in Shakespeare, they are curious about these
> > possible topicalities, anyway. Another factor is that the
> > Sonnets have long been scholardized to near-death, leaving
> > academics eager to make a mark little but topicalities to
> > work over.
The 'scholars' know next to nothing about the
sonnets -- as can be seen from the briefest
glance at any of the commentaries.
> By no means -- Vendler's book, to take just one example, is called <The Art
> of Shakespeare's Sonnets>, and that's what it's about.
It may be what she claims. And, to give her her
due, she works hard, and occasionally has a
fleeting insight. However, mostly she thrashes
about in the dark as much as any of her
predecessors.
<snip of Grumman's peom (or should that be 'pome' ?
On second thoughts, I prefer 'me-op' )>
> > No, Paul, we can readily establish it by observing something
> > called pronouns--as in my poem.
>
> Indeed. Most gender references in the first 126 sonnets are ambiguous (i.e.
> androgynous) precisely because (1) the youth himself is androgynous,
How do you know? Have you a picture of him/her?
What noble youth of the day was known for his
androgeny? (And aren't you lucky you were
not alive at the time to start making enquiries?)
> and
> because (2) Shakespeare is playing with the genre (as so often) by
> addressing a young man through the courtly love tradition instead of a woman
That's exactly the sort of game noble youths of
the day just loved. (Aren't you lucky you were
not alive at the time to make such suggestions?)
> (this is why they are free from incongruous references
What would be 'incongruous' about them?
> to exclusively
> masculine pursuits such as hawking):
Virtually ALL 'pursuits' of the day were exclusively
male -- or almost exclusively male. Females
rarely did anything outside the home.
Males inherited, and owned property, and left it
in their wills. They took up occupations and
professions; they fought in wars, they sailed on
ships; rich youths went on the continental tour;
older noble males took up important offices or
became ambassadors; they travelled on business
at home and overseas; they practised martial arts;
they fought, went to bear-baiting, cock-gaming, the
theatre, drank, pissed up against walls, whored,
played dice, got drunk, nearly always wore a sword
(if gentlemen), always carried a knife, wore different
clothes, wore armour . . . .etc., etc.
There is not a word of _anything_ like that in any
of the poems.
> Thou art thy mothers glasse and she in thee Son. 3.9
> Calls backe the louely Aprill of her prime, Son. 3.10
>
> No resaon why a man with rather feminine good looks shouldn't bear some
> resemblance to his mother when younger.
Except that you'd better not say it out loud -- or,
at least make sure that your male addressee
is unarmed at the time.
The true situation here, Peter, is that Elizabeth wore
a ring containing a miniature portrait of Anne Boleyn.
That is why the poet could tell her in the opening lines
1. Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
2. Now is the time that face should form another;
Then he implicitly asks her to look at her ring.
> However, where the gender references are *un*ambiguous, they are
> unambiguously masculine:
There are a FEW where the gender has been
changed (e.g. from 'her' to him') and he did play
with gender concepts. -- After all they had the
extraordinary situation that there was not a
single woman employed in the service of the
state -- yet right at the top of all those thousands
of men, there was such a being!
Most of the references you think as "unambiguous"
are, in fact, ambiguous.
> For where is she so faire whose vn-eard wombe Son. 3.5
> Disdaines the tillage of thy husbandry? Son. 3.6
That is a metaphor. Do you know of any women
who run farms or other businesses? Could you
make a joke with them about their 'husbandry'?
> But I forbid thee one most hainous crime, Son. 19.8
> O carue not with thy howers my loues faire brow, Son. 19.9
> Nor draw noe lines there with thine antique pen, Son. 19.10
> *Him* in thy course vntainted doe allow, Son. 19.11
> For beauties patterne to succeding *men*. Son. 19.12; (emphasis mine.)
Men would certainly succeed the Queen. Before 1582,
Oxford ardently (and virtually publicly) urged that they
should be Tudor men. He lost that argument. I read
this sonnet as one of near-despair on realising that it
was too late. All he could do was to pray for more time,
and for his love to be spared as long as possible.
The 'him' in line 11 above was probably originally a 'her'.
But, even if not, that was how he meant her to read it.
> The youth has a feminine beauty, but not "false woman's" traditional
> fickleness; he was created a woman, but Nature thwarted the process by
> carelessly adding a prick "for womens pleasure". Not too difficult to
> follow, surely?
Except that you have totally misread that sonnet.
> A Womans face with natures owne hand painted, Son. 20.1
Do you think ANY Elizabethan male could take
such a line? (And wasn't it especially 'true' of
Elizabeth?)
> Haste thou the Master Mistris of my passion, Son. 20.2
Do you think ANY Elizabethan male could take
such a line? (And wasn't it true as regard Elizabeth?
I see her as the master/mistress of his dedication
to poetry -- his passion in this case.)
> A womans gentle hart but not acquainted Son. 20.3
Do you think ANY Elizabethan male could take
such a line? (And wasn't it true of Elizabeth?
And don't you get the pun on 'quaint'='cunt')
> With shifting change as is false womens fashion, Son. 20.4
The false women were the courtiers, in particular
Ralegh who, around 1583, introduced new fashions
of (a) wearing hair long, and (b) wearing jewellery --
such as his famous pearl earrings. The 'shifting
change' puns on 'shifts' -- female wear. There is
no sense in telling a man that he is unacquainted
with 'shifts'. The reference here is to the Queen's
boasts of 'Semper Idem' -- one to which she did
_not_ stick -- and her desertion of Oxford for this
base fellow of no breeding upset him more than
most.
> An eye more bright then theirs,lesse false in rowling: Son. 20.5
The Queen's eye was 'false in rolling' -- but not as
false as that of Rawlee. There is a rough pun on
his name in 'rowling', and probably a reference to
a sailor's gait and a Devonian accent.
> Gilding the obiect where-vpon it gazeth, Son. 20.6
The Queen eye gilded 'the object' on which it gazed.
(And did it big time -- he got vast revenues and property).
> A man in hew all <it>Hews</it> in his controwling, Son. 20.7
The object (Ralegh) was a mere gentleman (although
knighted early in 1584), whose breaches of the
sumptuary laws were egregious. He wore the most
fantastic and expensive clothes (a 'man in hew').
When elected to Parliament in 1584 he was
immediately put on a committee charged with surveying
and restraining excessively ostentatious dress (a sly
Westminster joke -- and hence 'all hews in his
controwling'). The italicisation of 'Hewes' refers to
his employment of various Hughes, one of whom was
the famous mathematician, Robert Hues. It may also
refer to his close relationship with Huguenots (having
fought in France with them for four years).
> Which steales mens eyes and womens soules amaseth. Son. 20.8
He stole (pirated) pearls ("men's eyes")-- and wore
them as jewels; one of his favourite topics of
conversation was the nature of the 'soul'; the first
estates he got from the Queen were leases of two
estates belonging to All Souls College in Oxford;
(almost certainly partly a joke by the Queen);
he amazed a woman's soles with his cloak
(remember the story? --- and he put a cloak behind
his escuteon for his seal as Governor of Virginia,
as a visual reference).
> And for a woman wert thou first created, Son. 20.9
Do you think ANY Elizabethan male could take
such a line? (And wasn't it true of Elizabeth?
There is a reference here to the intensity of the
disappointment in the country -- and above all to
that of Henry VIII -- when she turned out to be a
mere female.)
> Till nature as she wrought thee fell a dotinge, Son. 20.10
There _may_ be a reference here to the death
(by execution) of her mother when she was three
years old.
> And by addition me of thee defeated, Son. 20.11
The 'addition' here probably refers to the adding
of Elizabeth's name to the will of Henry VIII. His
heir was his son Edward, by Jane Seymour, "and
failing him and his issue, to any children whom he
might have by Katherine Parr or by any future wife;
failing them, to his daughter Mary and her issue, on
condition that she did not marry without the consent
of his executors; and in default of Mary and her issue,
to Elizabeth, subject to the same restraint on marriage".
That whole sequence was quite illogical, since if
Mary was entitled to succeed, then Elizabeth must
be a bastard, and vice versa.
> By adding one thing to my purpose nothing. Son. 20.12
Do you think ANY Elizabethan male could take
such a line? (And wasn't it 'true' of Elizabeth?)
> But since she prickt thee out for womens pleasure, Son. 20.13
The pricking out -- is a reference to the crown and
to the chance events in the way the succession
eventually fell to Elizabeth (pricking as on a list).
There is, of course, a sly joking reference to a penis,
in much the same tone as to 'husbandry' above.
"Women's pleasure" is a reference to the 'false
women' (the courtiers above)
> Mine be thy loue and thy loues vse their treasure. Son. 20.14
> Now there's no doubt that "treasure" can be a reference to female sexuality;
Agreed, it usually is. But read the line _carefully_.
Pay close attention to the grammar (Shakespeare
always respected the grammar). It does not work
in the way you need it to. It's 'thy love's use THEIR
treasure'. How could a prick become 'their treasure'
if women were using it?
The Queen had a fair bit of the real stuff (of treasure)
and she was being used by the courtiers. Read it
_that_ way and you see the point of the line. The poet
is saying that Ralegh et al., are using the Queen, for
entirely mercenary reasons. Only he (the poet) has
a pure untainted love. (Well, we can take that with a
pinch of salt -- I'm sure she did.) In the sexual sense
the poet is suggesting that they are screwing her.
Her vagina is becoming _their_ treasure.
While we're on the subject of 'treasure', do a search
on it through the sonnets.
Sonnet 2
Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,
Sonnet 6
In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd:
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
With beauty's treasure, ere it be self-kill'd.
That use is not forbidden usury,
Sonnet 52
So am I as the rich, whose blessed key
Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Sonnet 125
Now proud as an enjoyer and anon
Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure,
Now counting best to be with you alone,
Then better'd that the world may see my pleasure;
How many of the above fit a MALE addressee?
> it is unambiguously so when he says to the Dark lady "<Will>, will fulfill
> the treasure of thy loue," Son. 136.5, the pun on his own name underscored
> by the italics. Incidentally, the poem ends
>
> Make but my name thy loue,and loue that still, Son. 136.13
> And then thou louest me for my name is <Will>. Son. 136.14
>
> (note to Crowley: <Will>, not <Ed>)
Yes, we all know that his posy was 'Will' or 'Willy'.
Writers often make jokes on their posies or
pseudonyms. They almost never do on their
given names. Somehow the latter are just not
amusing -- except maybe to others. But the owner
gets rather tired of them after the age of about five.
> It is also used sexually when he is enjoining the youth to marry, but here
> it represents the sperm that will "Make sweet some viall", and also the baby
> that will result, which will hoard his beauty's treasure for future years:
>
> THen let not winters wragged hand deface, Son. 6.1
> In thee thy summer ere thou be distil'd: Son. 6.2
> Make sweet some viall;treasure thou some place, Son. 6.3
> With beautits treasure ere it be selfe kil'd: Son. 6.4
>
> But there's no suggestion that he has a vagina.
Read those lines carefully. SHE is being told that
her beauty (i.e. her fertility) is close to ending.
(This is probably the late 1570s, the whole nation
is desperate for an heir to throne, and fears the dire
consequences without one. The next in line is --
and who could be worse? -- Mary Queen of Scots.)
The "self-killed" refers partly IMO to masturbation,
but the political message dominates.
Such message has no bearing whatsoever to any
foolish 'young man'. What on earth do you think
'ere it be self-killed' means? Is his prick going to
drop off shortly?
> > But academics like
> > Vendler have to cling to them to avoid venturing (to any
> > significant extent) into the more sophisticated poetry of
> > our own time.
>
> With respect, this is a little silly. Do you really suppose sophisticated
> critics like Stephen Greenblatt or Jonathan Dollimore or Frank Kermode (or
> etc. etc. etc.) write about Renaissance poetry because they are hiding from
> the task of complex analysis or exegesis?
The fact that the 'sophisticated critics' haven't a
single clue has some small relevance.
Dr Peter Groves
news:3C6962A3...@attglobal.net...
> Dr Peter Groves wrote:
> > exclusively
> > masculine pursuits such as hawking):
>
> ??????
>
Don't blame me -- I'm just addressing one of Crowley's weird obsessions
here.
> > It's a false analogy. Scientists acheive more complex and sophisticated
> > understandings by (in part) building on the work of their
predecessors --
> > "standing on the shoulders of giants". Artists too can learn from
their
> > predecessors but they can't assimilate and transcend them.
>
> I don't think I can accept that wholly. Surely a good deal
> between-the-wars English poetry rather takes that sort of thing for its
> basis.
>
Eliot put it best, perhaps:
"So here I am, in the middle way, having had twenty years,
Twenty years largely wasted, the years of <l'entre deux guerres>,
Trying to learn to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure,
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate,
With shabby equipment always deteriorating . . ." (East Coker V)
I don't imagine scientists ever feel like that
> > As for technical
> > advances, if anything we've gone backwards: writing rhythmically
interesting
> > verse without the techniques of metre is something only a few can do
well.
>
> Yes, one does grow tired of the reams of supposed "vers libre" that is
> nothing but prose with queer typography.
>
> > In any case the instrument (the English language) hasn't changed
radically
>
> I wonder. The records of this sort of thing are so few. When did
> silent reading become the norm? I know that it's the norm now, and that
> it was almost unheard of in the 4th century, but just when did it come
> in?
>
I *seem* to remember that it was the late Middle Ages -- but you're quite
right, it would have made a profound change in the reception and composition
of verse. Half the problem some people have with verse is that they don't
subvocalize it (still less read it out loud).
Peter G.
Dr Peter Groves
<snip>
>
> > As for technical
> > advances, if anything we've gone backwards: writing rhythmically
interesting
> > verse without the techniques of metre is something only a few can do
well.
> > In any case the instrument (the English language) hasn't
> changed radically
> > (nor, indeed, has the complexity of human interaction); degrees of
> > sophistication are in the performance, not the instrument.
>
> So a piano is not more sophisticated than a drum?
Sorry, I was unclear. My point was precisely that the piano is a more
sophisticated instrument than the clavichord, but that English hasn't
changed that much
> Well, I would claim
> that the use of the English language by poets has changed a great
> deal over the past century thanks to people like Joyce, even before
> Finnegans Wake, and Cummings, and Pound.
True, but it's a different fingering of the same instrument. Incidentally,
it's extraoRdinary how blandly conventional Joyce's poetry was (as opposed
to his prose).
> My simple poem (which you
> are too polite to agree with Paul about)
No -- I liked it, after a couple of readings -- and rhythmically it is
interesting.
> is one of my least
> burstnorm poems, but still there are four or five devices unknown
> to Shakespeare, and important.
>
> Ooops, time to go substitute teach.
>
> --Bob G.
>
>
Bob, why do you leave all this white space in your footer? It's mildly
irritating if you're using the spacebar to move through the posts.
John Harrington
> "John Harrington" <jbay...@my-deja.com> wrote in message news:b97c7d0a.02020...@posting.google.com...
>
> > Yes, the plays mention music and the elements of music such as melody
> > and harmony, but though the description is deep in the sense of being
> > often impeccably poetic, I wouldn't say it evinces a deep *knowledge*
> > of anything beyond catches, songs, lute tunes and perhaps the
> > occasional madrigal.
>
> The love for music that the playwright evinces seems to
> me speak of a knowledge and a familiarity that goes far
> beyond " . . catches, songs, lute tunes and perhaps the
> occasional madrigal".
Since we're dealing in impressions, I should say it really doesn't
seem so to me. Shakespeare appears to me to have liked a good tune
and sweet harmony. Beyond that I see no unusual appreciation of
music.
>
> > > But what opportunity did those outside aristocratic
> > > circles get to listen to the great music of the age --
> > > as we now know it?
> > >
> > > Any ideas?
> >
> > Depends on what you mean by great music. Madrigals were popular,
>
> They needed good (and I think highly-trained) singers.
> I don't see them in many taverns, or even in the
> playhouses. They seem to me to be exactly the sort
> of artists that would be called up on by the aristocracy
> for their entertainment, but who would find it hard to
> earn much outside the houses of the grand.
Madrigals vary in difficulty, but skilled musicians are not
necessarily limited to the aristocracy.
>
> > and
> > I imagine that church-going Elizabethans heard church music in their
> > services.
>
> After the Puritan 'revolution' of the 1560s there was
> little in churches to stimulate a deep love of music.
>
> > In fact, now that I think about it, I can't think of a
> > category of music of that time that would have been mostly limited to
> > aristocratic circles.
>
> I'm sure that I have an over-simplified view of the
> historical situation, but it does seem to me that
> if you could not hear the performances of the
> great music of Tallis and Byrd you would miss
> much of it.
I don't know why you wouldn't be able to hear Tallis and Byrd, but if
you only ever heard John Bull, Giles and Richard Farnaby, Robert
Johnson, Robert Jenkins, Orlando Gibbons, John Dowland and the like,
you would not be too impoverished.
Byrd and Bull had an exclusive contract with the Queen for the right
to publish music in the realm. I don't know why you would publish
music unless you meant it to be heard by a wider audience.
> And the principal way you were likely
> to hear those would be at the Chapel Royal itself.
> Tallis's Spem in Alium (for 40 voices) could hardly
> be heard elsewhere.
This is true, but that anthem is rare among Tallis' works.
> Byrd's compositions in
> Latin likewise were unlikely to be heard outside
> of it.
Why is that? Byrd's masses, e.g., can be sung by just 4 or 5 people.
>
> This is from Paul Johson's Elizabeth (pages 204/5)
Interesting, but unconvincing as evidence of any of the assertions
above.
J
Bob Grumman
> contains a desperate and explicit message --
> "For God's sake (and for ours) have an heir, and
> do so immediately"
quietest desperation I ever read
snip
> > > There are topicalities, I suppose, but they are of little
> > > AESTHETIC relevance to the poem.
>
> Rubbish. I suppose that you say all the 'topicalities'
> of the plays have no aesthetic relevance.
I was speaking of the SHORT LYRIC SONNETS. No time to get
into the scattered topicalities of the plays, some of which
were intended to ring a bell in the minds of spectators, some
of which were no doubt mentioned in passing because the author
felt like it, some to make a good impression on James (in Macbeth),
etc. But none, that I know of, had any great aesthetic or
dramatic relevance.
> Or would
> you say that plays have to be judged on totally different
> criteria? (Or do you judge tragedies on totally different
> criteria from comedies?)
I say plays are different from lyric poems, though not TOTALLY so.
> Shakespeare, as you ought
> to know, disdained ALL of those kinds of distinctions.
> He did not put 'poetry' in a special box -- held apart
> from the rest of existence. That sort of attitude is the
> product of soft thinking by weak brains. So it's probably
> something to which you subscribe.
I have no letters from Shakespeare discussing his feelings on
this matter but suspect that since there ARE differences between
sonnets and plays, he--as a rational human being--would have
believed in them. I do, too--and have written both poems and
plays, which you apparently have not--which hasn't kept you
from assuming you know more about them than anyone who has,
except your demigod. Oh, and no one puts poetry in a box
"held apart from the rest of existence." That's just another
ridiculously exaggerated description of one of your opponents'
views that you like so much to indulge in.
> > > Because people are naturally
> > > ALSO interested in Shakespeare, they are curious about these
> > > possible topicalities, anyway. Another factor is that the
> > > Sonnets have long been scholardized to near-death, leaving
> > > academics eager to make a mark little but topicalities to
> > > work over.
>
> The 'scholars' know next to nothing about the
> sonnets -- as can be seen from the briefest
> glance at any of the commentaries.
I'm sure that if a brilliant poet/critic like you were to
personally tell them this, they would do the decent thing
and stop writing about Shakespeare.
> > By no means -- Vendler's book, to take just one example, is called <The Art
> > of Shakespeare's Sonnets>, and that's what it's about.
>
> It may be what she claims. And, to give her her
> due, she works hard, and occasionally has a
> fleeting insight. However, mostly she thrashes
> about in the dark as much as any of her
> predecessors.
>
> <snip of Grumman's peom (or should that be 'pome' ?
> On second thoughts, I prefer 'me-op' )>
That's the best thing you've ever said. It actually applies in
this case.
> > > No, Paul, we can readily establish it by observing something
> > > called pronouns--as in my poem.
> >
> > Indeed. Most gender references in the first 126 sonnets are ambiguous (i.e.
> > androgynous) precisely because (1) the youth himself is androgynous,
>
> How do you know? Have you a picture of him/her?
Shakespeare tells us this--remember mistress/master?
snip of Paul arguing with Peter that I'll let Peter handle.
--Bob G.
Bob Grumman
# sophisticated instrument than the clavichord, but that English hasn't
# changed that much
#
# # Well, I would claim
# # that the use of the English language by poets has changed a great
# # deal over the past century thanks to people like Joyce, even before
# # Finnegans Wake, and Cummings, and Pound.
#
# True, but it's a different fingering of the same instrument.
Too complicated a subject to go into but I disagree or agree.
To agree, I would point out that the same thing could be said
about science--science remains the same but the pianos it uses
change (to cyclotrons, infra-red telescopes, etc); to disagree,
I would just say that I divide (lyric) poetry into three major
catgories: songmode (or formal), plaintext (or conventional
freeverse) and burstnorm (unconventional freeverse), and that
the latter uses the most techniques, by far--and since much of it
tends to combine the verbal with other modes of expression, like
mathematical, say--it can't be said too accurately to be made on
the same instrument.
# Incidentally, it's extraordinary how blandly conventional
# Joyce's poetry was (as opposed to his prose).
For sure. Which means that someone else wrote--what? His poems or
his novels? (See discussion of Golding as non-author of the
Englished Metamorphoses.)
# # My simple poem (which you
# # are too polite to agree with Paul about)
#
# No -- I liked it, after a couple of readings -- and
# rhythmically it is interesting.
Oops, in that case I'll have to de-categorize you as a Crowley Clone.
# Bob, why do you leave all this white space in your footer? It's
mildly irritating if you're using the spacebar to move through the posts.
I know, and apologize. Here's the story: I usually post from M--lgate,
but M--lgate won't post replies that have less new matter than old,
so for a long time I removed the >'s and put quotation marks around
quoted matter. Tedious and not unconfusing. Then someone told me
I could get around M--lgate by dding white space--lots easier, and
adding no confusion. Now, though, I have a best solution: cut the
whole of the post to which I'm replying and paste it in my word
processer; then do a find and replace on the >'s, converting them
to <'s. Then cut and paste the revision back to HLAS. I should do
this all the time, but adding white space is easier and I'm lazy . . .
--Bob G.
Ha, now M--lgate is refusing to post my revision. I'll try something
else.
--Lots of trouble, so now I'm posting from elsewhere. Really stupid.
Dr Peter Groves
.Bob Grumman <bobgr...@nut-n-but.net> wrote in message
news:4bbb9b19a84d6f6e10d...@mygate.mailgate.org...
If it ever shows up on my server, I will.
Peter G.
Paul Crowley
> "Paul Crowley" <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> wrote in message news:<BlY98.35530$8s4.1...@news.indigo.ie>...
> > The love for music that the playwright evinces seems to
> > me speak of a knowledge and a familiarity that goes far
> > beyond " . . catches, songs, lute tunes and perhaps the
> > occasional madrigal".
>
> Since we're dealing in impressions, I should say it really doesn't
> seem so to me. Shakespeare appears to me to have liked a good tune
> and sweet harmony. Beyond that I see no unusual appreciation of
> music.
Come now! Nearly everybody likes a good tune and
sweet harmony. But few playwrights incorporate so
much music into their plays or talk about it so much
(through their characters). And much the same applies
to the sonnets. Few poets mention music so often.
> Madrigals vary in difficulty, but skilled musicians are not
> necessarily limited to the aristocracy.
How would they have earned a living, except by singing
for the rich (if not necessarily the aristocracy) ?
> > > and
> > > I imagine that church-going Elizabethans heard church music in their
> > > services.
> >
> > After the Puritan 'revolution' of the 1560s there was
> > little in churches to stimulate a deep love of music.
> >
> > > In fact, now that I think about it, I can't think of a
> > > category of music of that time that would have been mostly limited to
> > > aristocratic circles.
> >
> > I'm sure that I have an over-simplified view of the
> > historical situation, but it does seem to me that
> > if you could not hear the performances of the
> > great music of Tallis and Byrd you would miss
> > much of it.
>
> I don't know why you wouldn't be able to hear Tallis and Byrd, but if
> you only ever heard John Bull, Giles and Richard Farnaby, Robert
> Johnson, Robert Jenkins, Orlando Gibbons, John Dowland and the like,
> you would not be too impoverished.
>
> Byrd and Bull had an exclusive contract with the Queen for the right
> to publish music in the realm. I don't know why you would publish
> music unless you meant it to be heard by a wider audience.
It was Byrd and Talls from 1575-85 (I don't think
Bull was involved -- but I may be wrong). The
publication of their 'Cantiones' in 1585 was a
failure and they published nothing for the next
13 years. Their license was AFAIR for the printing
of _all_ music (not just their own) and of blank
sheets of music paper. Byrd and Tallis made no
(or little) money from it. Their minds were
apparently elsewhere. Morley made good money
from it later, handling it on a proper business
basis.
> > And the principal way you were likely
> > to hear those would be at the Chapel Royal itself.
> > Tallis's Spem in Alium (for 40 voices) could hardly
> > be heard elsewhere.
>
> This is true, but that anthem is rare among Tallis' works.
Yes, but that type of music does not seem to
have been performed much outside a few
cathedrals or the private choirs of a few
aristocrats.
> > Byrd's compositions in
> > Latin likewise were unlikely to be heard outside
> > of it.
>
> Why is that? Byrd's masses, e.g., can be sung by just 4 or 5 people.
Masses were illegal for the whole of the period.
Sung masses in Latin were trebly scandalous.
I doubt if much of a religious nature was sung
in Latin outside the Chapel Royal or in private in
the isolated houses of Catholics who didn't mind
taking a risk.
> Interesting, but unconvincing as evidence of any of the assertions
> above.
'Assertions'? I was careful to avoid them.
Peter Groves
"Peter Groves" <Monti...@bigpond.com> wrote in message
news:Qh1a8.212$wG3....@newsfeeds.bigpond.com...
>
> Bob Grumman <bobgr...@nut-n-but.net> wrote in message
> news:8792c58d5e34fe578b5...@mygate.mailgate.org...
> > > But Shakespeare DOES include 'topicalities'.
> > > There are so many that it is invidious to pick one,
> > > but here's one:
> >
> > > Against this coming end you should prepare,
> > > And your sweet semblance to some other give.
> > >
> > > He is talking about the addressee's forthcoming
> > > death (at some point) and the need for an heir.
> >
> > I fail to understand your point. The gist of the poem's
> > foreburden is that the addressee will die eventually, so
> > should leave behind a replica of himself. Simple universal
> > theme requiring no specific actors, the addressee being
> > Anyman (who happens to be considered attractive).
Paul:
That was from the first 17 sonnets, each of which
contains a desperate and explicit message --
"For God's sake (and for ours) have an heir, and
do so immediately"
> > > Check the standard commentaries to see that
> > > most people think he refers to many 'topicalities'.
> > > many of a much more pedestrian nature.
> >
> > There are topicalities, I suppose, but they are of little
> > AESTHETIC relevance to the poem.
Rubbish. I suppose that you say all the 'topicalities'
of the plays have no aesthetic relevance. Or would
you say that plays have to be judged on totally different
criteria? (Or do you judge tragedies on totally different
criteria from comedies?) Shakespeare, as you ought
to know, disdained ALL of those kinds of distinctions.
He did not put 'poetry' in a special box -- held apart
from the rest of existence. That sort of attitude is the
product of soft thinking by weak brains. So it's probably
something to which you subscribe.
> > Because people are naturally
> > ALSO interested in Shakespeare, they are curious about these
> > possible topicalities, anyway. Another factor is that the
> > Sonnets have long been scholardized to near-death, leaving
> > academics eager to make a mark little but topicalities to
> > work over.
The 'scholars' know next to nothing about the
sonnets -- as can be seen from the briefest
glance at any of the commentaries.
> By no means -- Vendler's book, to take just one example, is called <The
Art
> of Shakespeare's Sonnets>, and that's what it's about.
It may be what she claims. And, to give her her
due, she works hard, and occasionally has a
fleeting insight. However, mostly she thrashes
about in the dark as much as any of her
predecessors.
<snip of Grumman's peom (or should that be 'pome' ?
On second thoughts, I prefer 'me-op' )>
> > No, Paul, we can readily establish it by observing something
> > called pronouns--as in my poem.
>
> Indeed. Most gender references in the first 126 sonnets are ambiguous
(i.e.
> androgynous) precisely because (1) the youth himself is androgynous,
Paul:
How do you know? Have you a picture of him/her?
Peter:
Yes: it's Shakespeare's:
Describe Adonis and the counterfet, Son. 53.5
Is poorely immitated after you, Son. 53.6
On Hellens cheeke all art of beautie set, Son. 53.7
And you in Grecian tires are painted new: Son. 53.8 (and much more in the
same vein).
Paul:
What noble youth of the day was known for his
androgeny? (And aren't you lucky you were
not alive at the time to start making enquiries?)
> and
> because (2) Shakespeare is playing with the genre (as so often) by
> addressing a young man through the courtly love tradition instead of a
woman
Paul:
That's exactly the sort of game noble youths of
the day just loved. (Aren't you lucky you were
not alive at the time to make such suggestions?)
Peter:
I really don't understand the point of your remarks here. If the first 126
sonnets had a real-life addressee (and I tend to think they had) he
certainly wasn't too bright, or his vanity outweighed his intelligence.
Sonnet 53, for example, is pure character-assassination, as is 94 (though 53
at least *sounds* like praise).
> (this is why they are free from incongruous references
Paul:
What would be 'incongruous' about them?
Peter:
Fairly obviously they would be incongruous in poems of a kind normally
addressed to women.
> to exclusively
> masculine pursuits such as hawking):
Paul:
Virtually ALL 'pursuits' of the day were exclusively
male -- or almost exclusively male. Females
rarely did anything outside the home.
Males inherited, and owned property, and left it
in their wills. They took up occupations and
professions; they fought in wars, they sailed on
ships; rich youths went on the continental tour;
older noble males took up important offices or
became ambassadors; they travelled on business
at home and overseas; they practised martial arts;
they fought, went to bear-baiting, cock-gaming, the
theatre, drank, pissed up against walls, whored,
played dice, got drunk, nearly always wore a sword
(if gentlemen), always carried a knife, wore different
clothes, wore armour . . . .etc., etc.
There is not a word of _anything_ like that in any
of the poems.
Peter:
Exactly. See above.
Peter:
The joke works only if it's addressed to a man. Was Elizabeth a farmer?
> But I forbid thee one most hainous crime, Son. 19.8
> O carue not with thy howers my loues faire brow, Son. 19.9
> Nor draw noe lines there with thine antique pen, Son. 19.10
> *Him* in thy course vntainted doe allow, Son. 19.11
> For beauties patterne to succeding *men*. Son. 19.12; (emphasis mine.)
Men would certainly succeed the Queen. Before 1582,
Oxford ardently (and virtually publicly) urged that they
should be Tudor men. He lost that argument. I read
this sonnet as one of near-despair on realising that it
was too late. All he could do was to pray for more time,
and for his love to be spared as long as possible.
The 'him' in line 11 above was probably originally a 'her'.
But, even if not, that was how he meant her to read it.
> The youth has a feminine beauty, but not "false woman's" traditional
> fickleness; he was created a woman, but Nature thwarted the process by
> carelessly adding a prick "for womens pleasure". Not too difficult to
> follow, surely?
Except that you have totally misread that sonnet.
> A Womans face with natures owne hand painted, Son. 20.1
Do you think ANY Elizabethan male could take
such a line?
I don't claim to be so certain. Lovers have, after all, a certain
verbal licence with their loved ones.
(And wasn't it especially 'true' of
Elizabeth?)
But isn't it a bit pointless to tell a woman she has a woman's face?
What else would she have?
> Haste thou the Master Mistris of my passion, Son. 20.2
Do you think ANY Elizabethan male could take
such a line? (And wasn't it true as regard Elizabeth?
I see her as the master/mistress of his dedication
to poetry -- his passion in this case.)
> A womans gentle hart but not acquainted Son. 20.3
Do you think ANY Elizabethan male could take
such a line? (And wasn't it true of Elizabeth?
And don't you get the pun on 'quaint'='cunt')
But surelty Eliz. had a cunt? The youth, however, would be "not
a-cunt-ed" (but rather "pricked", line 13)
> With shifting change as is false womens fashion, Son. 20.4
The false women were the courtiers, in particular
Ralegh who, around 1583, introduced new fashions
of (a) wearing hair long, and (b) wearing jewellery --
such as his famous pearl earrings. The 'shifting
change' puns on 'shifts' -- female wear.
Not exclusively so in this period, as the OEd confirms: "10. a. A
body-garment of linen, cotton, or the like; in early use applied
indifferently to men's and women's underclothing; subsequently, a woman's
'smock' or chemise. Now chiefly N. Amer.
In the 17th c. smock began to be displaced by shift as a more 'delicate'
expression; in the 19th c. the latter, from the same motive, gave place to
chemise.
1598 B. Jonson Ev. Man in Hum. i. i, I haue knowne some of them, that
haue..at length bene glad for a shift (though no cleane shift) to lye a
whole winter in halfe a sheete.
1648 Winyard Midsummer-Moon 4 Is the University Pim'd, and therefore must
change shifts, or are men turnd out..for being scabby?
1691 D'Emilianne's Frauds Rom. Monks 96 They are stript stark Naked in
another [room], without suffering them so much as to keep on their Shifts."
I think that question answers itself, doesn't it? It's precious to them
while they're enjoying it ("thy love's use" = "thy sexual activity")
"When thou hast done, thou hast not Donne/For I have more."
Somehow the latter are just not
amusing -- except maybe to others. But the owner
gets rather tired of them after the age of about five.
> It is also used sexually when he is enjoining the youth to marry, but here
> it represents the sperm that will "Make sweet some viall", and also the
baby
> that will result, which will hoard his beauty's treasure for future years:
>
> THen let not winters wragged hand deface, Son. 6.1
> In thee thy summer ere thou be distil'd: Son. 6.2
> Make sweet some viall;treasure thou some place, Son. 6.3
> With beautits treasure ere it be selfe kil'd: Son. 6.4
>
> But there's no suggestion that he has a vagina.
Read those lines carefully. SHE is being told that
her beauty (i.e. her fertility) is close to ending.
(This is probably the late 1570s, the whole nation
is desperate for an heir to throne, and fears the dire
consequences without one. The next in line is --
and who could be worse? -- Mary Queen of Scots.)
The "self-killed" refers partly IMO to masturbation,
but the political message dominates.
Such message has no bearing whatsoever to any
foolish 'young man'. What on earth do you think
'ere it be self-killed' means? Is his prick going to
drop off shortly?
The simple explanation is that his beauty will effectively commit
suicide if it fails to perpetuate itself
> > But academics like
> > Vendler have to cling to them to avoid venturing (to any
> > significant extent) into the more sophisticated poetry of
> > our own time.
>
> With respect, this is a little silly. Do you really suppose sophisticated
> critics like Stephen Greenblatt or Jonathan Dollimore or Frank Kermode (or
> etc. etc. etc.) write about Renaissance poetry because they are hiding
from
> the task of complex analysis or exegesis?
The fact that the 'sophisticated critics' haven't a
single clue has some small relevance.
Paul.
--
Email: pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)
Your exegesis is certainly highly ingenious, but the ingenuity seems to be
surplus to requirements: at every step you reject the straightforward
meaning for some Byzantine labyrinth of suppositious private encoding, and
the process seeems to require far too much special pleading. Jonson tells
us to distrust those conjectures that require many words to support them.
Peter G.
Peter Groves
Jonson tells
> us to distrust those conjectures that require many words to support them.
>
> Peter G.
>
Sorry, that should be Johnson (Samuel).
KQKnave
<pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> writes:
>Come now! Nearly everybody likes a good tune and
>sweet harmony. But few playwrights incorporate so
>much music into their plays or talk about it so much
>(through their characters). And much the same applies
>to the sonnets. Few poets mention music so often.
>
Wrong again, Crowley. The use of music in sonnet sequences
is another cliche, used for example by Sidney and Spenser.
Here are just a few examples:
Sidney 70
My Muse may well grudge at my heau'nly ioy,
Yf still I force her in sad rimes to creepe:
She oft hath drunk my teares, now hopes to enioy
Nectar of mirth, since I Ioues cup do keepe.
Sonets be not bound Prentice to annoy;
Trebles sing high, so well as bases deepe;
Griefe but Loues winter-liuerie is; the boy
Hath cheekes to smile, so well as eyes to weepe.
Come then, my Muse, shew thou height of delight
In well-raisde notes; my pen, the best it may,
Shall paint out ioy, though in but blacke and white.
Cease, eager Muse; peace, pen, for my sake stay,
I giue you here my hand for truth of this,
Wise silence is best musicke vnto blisse.
Sidney First Song
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes entendeth,
Which now my breast, surcharg'd, to musick lendeth!
To you, to you, all song of praise is due,
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
Third Song
If Orpheus voyce had force to breathe such musickes loue
Through pores of senceles trees, as it could make them moue;
If stones good measure daunc'd, the Theban walles to build
To cadence of the tunes which Amphions lyre did yeeld;
More cause a like effect at least-wise bringeth:
O stones, O trees, learne hearing,--Stella singeth.
Sidney's sequence is full of other musical references, "Where birds
wanton music made" etc; too many to list here. Indeed, the irregular
poems interspersed among the sonnets are called, well, "Songs".
Spenser Amoretti 35:
THE world that cannot deeme of worthy things,
when I doe praise her, say I doe but flatter:
so does the Cuckow, when the Mauis sings,
begin his witlesse note apace to clatter.
Spenser Amoretti 38:
ARION, when through tempests cruel wracke,
He forth was thrown into the greedy seas:
through the sweet musick which his harp did make
allu'rd a Dolphin him from death to ease.
But my rude musick, which was wont to please
some dainty eares, cannot, with any skill,
the dreadfull tempest of her wrath appease,
nor moue the Dolphin from her stubborne will,
But in her pride she dooth persever still,
all carelesse how my life for her decayse:
yet with one word she can it saue or spill.
to spill were pitty, but to saue were prayse.
Chuse rather to be praysd for doing good,
then to be blam'd for spilling guiltlesse blood.
Spenser: Epithalamion
HARKE how the Minstrels gin to shrill aloud,
Their merry Musick that resounds from far,
The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling Croud,
That well agree withouten breach or iar.
But most of all the Damzels doe delite,
When they their tymbrels smyte,
And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet,
That all the sences they doe rauish quite,
The whyles the boyes run vp and downe the street,
Crying aloud with strong confused noyce,
As if it were one voyce.
Hymen io Hymen, Hymen they do shout,
That euen to the heauens theyr shouting shrill
Doth reach, and all the firmament doth fill,
To which the people standing all about,
As in approuance doe thereto applaud
And loud aduaunce her laud,
And euermore they Hymen Hymen sing,
that al the woods them answer and theyr eccho ring.
Paul Crowley
>>news:Qh1a8.212$wG3....@newsfeeds.bigpond.com...
>>> Indeed. Most gender references in the first 126 sonnets are ambiguous
>>>(i.e. androgynous) precisely because (1) the youth himself is androgynous,
>>Paul:
>>How do you know? Have you a picture of him/her?
Peter:
>Yes: it's Shakespeare's:
>
>Describe Adonis and the counterfet, Son. 53.5
>Is poorely immitated after you, Son. 53.6
>On Hellens cheeke all art of beautie set, Son. 53.7
>And you in Grecian tires are painted new: Son. 53.8 (and much more in the
>same vein).
These sonnets have to be read _very_carefully_.
(And you've left out the most interesting lines of
Sonnet 53.) The poet does _not_ say that the
addressee is like Adonis. He says (a) describe
Adonis; (b) 'the counterfeit is poorly imitated
after you'. There is little clear or unambiguous
here, particularly as 'counterfeit' is a 'cunt' word.
However, the poet goes on to be almost explicit
about the comparison with Helen. He says that
"You, dressed as a Greek, would be just like
Helen". That line is not addressable to an
Elizabethan male. The lines about Adonis
would have been quite acceptable to a female,
especially to one who appreciated the necessity
for the poet to cover his tracks.
>>Paul:
>>
>>That's exactly the sort of game noble youths of
>>the day just loved. (Aren't you lucky you were
>>not alive at the time to make such suggestions?)
>
> Peter:
>
>I really don't understand the point of your remarks here. If the first 126
>sonnets had a real-life addressee (and I tend to think they had) he
>certainly wasn't too bright,
S/he was the recipient of 126 sonnets of the
most extraordinary density and complexity.
And s/he loved them
For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,
And so should you, to love things nothing worth.
(Sonnet 72)
S/he could only have been of the highest
intelligence. What other reason can you suggest
as to why these sonnets were written?
> or his vanity outweighed his intelligence.
>Sonnet 53, for example, is pure character-assassination, as is 94 (though 53
>at least *sounds* like praise).
You've got Sonnet 53 quite wrong. (Perhaps I
should re-post my exegesis of it.) The tone of
some of sonnets (and probably parts of 53) is
quite sarcastic. Sonnet 94 is highly critical, and
could hardly be taken in any other way -- no
matter how stupid the addressee.
>>Paul:
>>Virtually ALL 'pursuits' of the day were exclusively
>>male -- or almost exclusively male. Females
>>rarely did anything outside the home.
>>
>>Males inherited, and owned property, and left it
>>in their wills. They took up occupations and
>>professions; they fought in wars, they sailed on
>>ships; rich youths went on the continental tour;
>>older noble males took up important offices or
>>became ambassadors; they travelled on business
>>at home and overseas; they practised martial arts;
>>they fought, went to bear-baiting, cock-gaming, the
>>theatre, drank, pissed up against walls, whored,
>>played dice, got drunk, nearly always wore a sword
>>(if gentlemen), always carried a knife, wore different
>>clothes, wore armour . . . .etc., etc.
>>
>>There is not a word of _anything_ like that in any
>>of the poems.
>
>Peter:
>
>Exactly. See above.
You just say that they are 'incongruous' -- or that the
addressee was androgenous -- as though either
could be a sufficient explanation.
>>> For where is she so faire whose vn-eard wombe Son. 3.5
>>> Disdaines the tillage of thy husbandry? Son. 3.6
>>
>>That is a metaphor. Do you know of any women
>>who run farms or other businesses? Could you
>>make a joke with them about their 'husbandry'?
>
>Peter:
>
>The joke works only if it's addressed to a man. Was Elizabeth a farmer?
Nonsense. There is NO joke addressed to
a man. Let's say that you ran a large estate
(as many Elizabethan nobles did). I could
congratulate you on your 'husbandry'. So
what? Unless you had reason to think I was
being sarcastic, you'd feel complimented.
But let's say your wife did the same. I could
easily make the same comment, but spice
it up a bit (with 'tillage', etc.) to show that I
was making a joking pun.
>>> The youth has a feminine beauty, but not "false woman's" traditional
>>> fickleness; he was created a woman, but Nature thwarted the process by
>>> carelessly adding a prick "for womens pleasure". Not too difficult to
>>> follow, surely?
>
>>Except that you have totally misread that sonnet.
>
>>> A Womans face with natures owne hand painted, Son. 20.1
>
>>Do you think ANY Elizabethan male could take
>>such a line?
>
> I don't claim to be so certain. Lovers have, after all, a certain
>verbal licence with their loved ones.
So you think the Stratman was homosexual?
Do we have the classic Strat theory of a hired
homosexual poet being paid by a noble family
to address the youth in ardent terms in order to
persuade him to marry (some unnameable
female) in order to have an heir as quickly as
possible?
And do you think the rival poets were
homosexual as well?
>>(And wasn't it especially 'true' of
>>Elizabeth?)
>
> But isn't it a bit pointless to tell a woman she has a woman's face?
> What else would she have?
The poet is playing with gender concepts. The
Queen was, after all, the 'master-mistress' of
the nation. She called herself 'a prince' and
occupied a wholly masculine role.
A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;
>>> A womans gentle hart but not acquainted Son. 20.3
>
>>Do you think ANY Elizabethan male could take
>>such a line? (And wasn't it true of Elizabeth?
>>And don't you get the pun on 'quaint'='cunt')
>
> But surelty Eliz. had a cunt? The youth, however, would be "not
>a-cunt-ed" (but rather "pricked", line 13)
The poet says that Elizabeth is not a-cunt-ed
with 'shifting change'. That is not to say she
does not have a cunt. Could I ask of you,
for example, 'Are you a-cunt-ed with Bondai
beach' . .? It makes no sense. But I could
ask of an Australian woman "Are you a-cunt-ed
with Bondai Beach?" -- it's potentially insulting,
etc., and could only be posed under a few
conditions -- but my only point here is that it
does (or could) make some kind of sense.
>>> With shifting change as is false womens fashion, Son. 20.4
>>
>>The false women were the courtiers, in particular
>>Ralegh who, around 1583, introduced new fashions
>>of (a) wearing hair long, and (b) wearing jewellery --
>>such as his famous pearl earrings. The 'shifting
>>change' puns on 'shifts' -- female wear.
>
>Not exclusively so in this period, as the OEd confirms:
Thanks for making me consult the OED on 'shift'.
I had not realised the extent of the force attached
to that word by Elizabethans. There is even a
nautical sense (appropriate to the sonnet).
"10. a. A
>body-garment of linen, cotton, or the like; in early use applied
>indifferently to men's and women's underclothing; subsequently, a woman's
>'smock' or chemise. Now chiefly N. Amer.
I think you're extracting too much from a minor
sense, and missing the fact that its use was
generally tied to the kind of over-garment. Monks,
clerics and academics might wear them, but I
doubt if otherwise any upper or middle class
Elizabethan male would normally be said to
wear a shift -- except possibly at night.
>In the 17th c. smock began to be displaced by shift as a more 'delicate'
>expression; in the 19th c. the latter, from the same motive, gave place to
>chemise.
>1598 B. Jonson Ev. Man in Hum. i. i, I haue knowne some of them, that
>haue..at length bene glad for a shift (though no cleane shift) to lye a
>whole winter in halfe a sheete.
>1648 Winyard Midsummer-Moon 4 Is the University Pim'd, and therefore must
>change shifts, or are men turnd out..for being scabby?
>1691 D'Emilianne's Frauds Rom. Monks 96 They are stript stark Naked in
>another [room], without suffering them so much as to keep on their Shifts."
>>"Women's pleasure" is a reference to the 'false
>>women' (the courtiers above)
>>
>>> Mine be thy loue and thy loues vse their treasure. Son. 20.14
>>
>>> Now there's no doubt that "treasure" can be a reference to female
>>sexuality;
>>
>>Agreed, it usually is. But read the line _carefully_.
>>Pay close attention to the grammar (Shakespeare
>>always respected the grammar). It does not work
>>in the way you need it to. It's 'thy love's use THEIR
>>treasure'. How could a prick become 'their treasure'
>>if women were using it?
>
> I think that question answers itself, doesn't it? It's precious to them
>while they're enjoying it ("thy love's use" = "thy sexual activity")
It could be 'precious to them' -- but it loses the
sense of 'treasure' that (I thought) we agreed
upon as a reference to the female_sexual_organs.
But I now see that you elided that into the vague
'female sexuality'. That is NOT the standard sense.
>>> Make but my name thy loue,and loue that still, Son. 136.13
>>> And then thou louest me for my name is <Will>. Son. 136.14
>>>
>>> (note to Crowley: <Will>, not <Ed>)
>
>>Yes, we all know that his posy was 'Will' or 'Willy'.
>>Writers often make jokes on their posies or
>>pseudonyms. They almost never do on their
>>given names.
>
> "When thou hast done, thou hast not Donne/For I have more."
Is that a genuine quotation? I see that the
better known "John Donne, Anne Donne,
undone" was probably not by him at all.
(R.C. Bolt's biography, p 139)
>>> It is also used sexually when he is enjoining the youth to marry, but here
>>> it represents the sperm that will "Make sweet some viall", and also the
>>baby
>>> that will result, which will hoard his beauty's treasure for future years:
>>>
>>> THen let not winters wragged hand deface, Son. 6.1
>>> In thee thy summer ere thou be distil'd: Son. 6.2
>>> Make sweet some viall;treasure thou some place, Son. 6.3
>>> With beautits treasure ere it be selfe kil'd: Son. 6.4
>>>
>>> But there's no suggestion that he has a vagina.
>>
>>Read those lines carefully. SHE is being told that
>>her beauty (i.e. her fertility) is close to ending.
>>(This is probably the late 1570s, the whole nation
>>is desperate for an heir to throne, and fears the dire
>>consequences without one. The next in line is --
>>and who could be worse? -- Mary Queen of Scots.)
>>The "self-killed" refers partly IMO to masturbation,
>>but the political message dominates.
>>
>>Such message has no bearing whatsoever to any
>>foolish 'young man'. What on earth do you think
>>'ere it be self-killed' means? Is his prick going to
>>drop off shortly?
>
> The simple explanation is that his beauty will effectively commit
>suicide if it fails to perpetuate itself
'Simple explanation'? Bullshit. Such
sentiments have never been expressed
to any young man in any language in
any form in any culture at any time.
>Your exegesis is certainly highly ingenious, but the ingenuity seems to be
>surplus to requirements:
No such 'surplus to requirements' explanation
could be offered -- without being grounded in
the facts. Try doing one yourself. It will be
transparently false.
> at every step you reject the straightforward
>meaning for some Byzantine labyrinth of suppositious private encoding,
BS. Look at your 'simple explanations' or
'straightforward meanings'. They are as
unnatural and as twisted as the lies of
Tricky Dicky.
> and
>the process seeems to require far too much special pleading.
You have not said where the 'special pleading'
comes in. If it was present, it would be easy
to point out.
> Jonson tells
>us to distrust those conjectures that require many words to support them.
We can certainly discard all of Vendler and
Booth on those grounds -- and on a lot of
others. By comparison, my exegesis is a
model of brevity.
Alan Jones
"Paul Crowley" <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> wrote in message
> "John Harrington" <jbay...@my-deja.com> wrote in message
news:b97c7d0a.02021...@posting.google.com...
> > Madrigals vary in difficulty, but skilled musicians are not
> > necessarily limited to the aristocracy.
>
> How would they have earned a living, except by singing
> for the rich (if not necessarily the aristocracy) ?
You are discounting the skill of Elizabethan amateurs, for whom madrigals
and much music for lute and viols were, I think, chiefly composed. These
"skilled musicians" were performing for their own pleasure and that of their
families and friends. Some of the composers were amateurs, too: for
instance, the poet Milton's father.
> > > > and
> > > > I imagine that church-going Elizabethans heard church music in their
> > > > services.
> > > After the Puritan 'revolution' of the 1560s there was
> > > little in churches to stimulate a deep love of music.
I don't know of evidence that anything but psalm tunes were sung in ordinary
churches. Cathedrals, the college chapels and the Chapel Royal in its
various embodiments had choirs.
> > > > In fact, now that I think about it, I can't think of a
> > > > category of music of that time that would have been mostly limited
to
> > > > aristocratic circles.
That seems to be so.
Were there such private choirs, other than the Chapel Royal? I didn't know
that.
> > > Byrd's compositions in
> > > Latin likewise were unlikely to be heard outside
> > > of it.
> >
> > Why is that? Byrd's masses, e.g., can be sung by just 4 or 5 people.
>
> Masses were illegal for the whole of the period.
> Sung masses in Latin were trebly scandalous.
> I doubt if much of a religious nature was sung
> in Latin outside the Chapel Royal or in private in
> the isolated houses of Catholics who didn't mind
> taking a risk.
This needs a little expansion. A "mass" as a musical setting of the Ordinary
has to be distinguished from Mass as a religious service for which it is, or
may be, intended. The Kyrie, Gloria, Credo and Sanctus have always been
part of the Anglican service of Holy Communion, and Byrd's settings could
have been used in that service. The Benedictus and Agnus Dei used not to
be sung, since their biblical words, in their placing within the Mass, can
be (and then were) construed as alluding to the rejected doctrine of
transsubstantiation. I can't see why they could not at any time have been
sung as anthems at Matins or Evensong, when that implication was not
present, though that's not to say that they ever were. Many (but
emphatically not all) of Byrd's Latin motets, including the large
collections of Gradualia and Cantiones Sacrae, could have been used at
Matins or Evensong (where a rubric specifically allows for an anthem) or
at Holy Communion (no specific rubric, admittedly), though that was
celebrated much less often than is now customary. Of course, Byrd and
Tallis wrote plenty of music to the new English texts of the services and
of e.g. the Psalms.
The question of Latin is not entirely relevant, because The Book of
Common Prayer was published in both Latin and English, with some subtle
but perhaps deliberate differences in the Forty-Nine Articles. It was
permissible to use the Latin when it would be "understanded of the people",
which meant certainly in the Oxford and Cambridge colleges and the great
schools as well as Elizabeth's chapels, and perhaps at some services in
cathedrals. Oxford Cathedral even has a "Latin Chapel"; the small cathedral
was once monastic, but Henry VIII made it the episcopal seat of one of his
new dioceses and it also served as the Chapel of his new college, Christ
Church, originally founded by Wolsey a few years earlier as "Cardinal
College". (I do wonder how strictly "Anglican" the Chapel Royal was:
Elizabeth's own collection of private devotions, her "Primer", is quite
"Catholic", and was several times reprinted. If anyone knows of evidence
either way, I'd be interested to learn of it.)
It seems generally to be accepted that Byrd's masses and motets were
probably sung in private recusant homes at covert celebrations of Mass: no
choir needed, since the music is no more difficult than that of contemporary
madrigals and sounds very well with one or two voices to a part. But there
could hardly have been any objections to their private performance simply as
music, outside a religious service, since after all Byrd and his master
Tallis had been granted the monopoly of music publishing and enjoyed the
favour of the Queen. Yet it's true that the most specifically "Catholic" of
Byrd's church compositions were not published until after her death, and
that even then Byrd withdrew them from sale for a few years during the
Gunpowder Plot troubles.
Alan Jones
Paul Crowley
>
> "Paul Crowley" <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> wrote in message
> news:3yYa8.367$W8....@news.indigo.ie...
> > "John Harrington" <jbay...@my-deja.com> wrote in message
> news:b97c7d0a.02021...@posting.google.com...
> [...]
> > > Madrigals vary in difficulty, but skilled musicians are not
> > > necessarily limited to the aristocracy.
> >
> > How would they have earned a living, except by singing
> > for the rich (if not necessarily the aristocracy) ?
>
> You are discounting the skill of Elizabethan amateurs, for whom madrigals
> and much music for lute and viols were, I think, chiefly composed. These
> "skilled musicians" were performing for their own pleasure and that of their
> families and friends.
That does not ring true for me. The Victorians
certainly entertained themselves in that manner,
but Elizabethan society was much more stratified
with a much smaller middle class; and most of
that was quite Puritanical.
My source on this is mostly A.L. Rouse "The
Elizabethan Renaissance -- The Cultural
Achievement (page 98) :
" . . . in this field the influence of Italy was at its highest;
there were signs of its being prepared before the madrigal
burst into fashion at Court and with cultivated musical
circles— for, as a sophisticated art, its vogue was essentially
aristocratic.
> Some of the composers were amateurs, too: for
> instance, the poet Milton's father.
True. Rouse mentions an 'amateur madrigalist'
-- but as though he was a rare beast.
> > > > After the Puritan 'revolution' of the 1560s there was
> > > > little in churches to stimulate a deep love of music.
>
> I don't know of evidence that anything but psalm tunes were sung in ordinary
> churches. Cathedrals, the college chapels and the Chapel Royal in its
> various embodiments had choirs.
Yes. But to return to the underlying topic -- where
would the man from Stratford have heard great
music and acquired the deep love for it that we
see (as I believe) in the plays and poems?
> > . . . that type of music does not seem to
> > have been performed much outside a few
> > cathedrals or the private choirs of a few
> > aristocrats.
>
> Were there such private choirs, other than the Chapel Royal? I didn't know
> that.
From Rouse, page 110:
"We are so apt to think of Robert Cecil as the professional
politician he was and the statesman he became, that we
forget his cultural interests. He claimed that he loved books
more than gold, but he loved music no less. He kept a choir
for his chapel, and one way to the great little Secretary’s
favour was to recruit the best voices for him. Richard
Champernowne of Modbury Castle near Plymouth also kept
a choir: ‘being naturally and often oppressed with melancholy
more than he could wish, he has — though to his own charge
— bought such as he has found whose voices contented him.’
. . . .
"During that winter Cecil was inquiring after a musician of the
soldierly Lord Burgh, another devotee, who was more ready to
oblige. ‘Daniel you shall have; three other boys with him are
mishappened to me: one of them both plays and sings an
excellent treble, but his conditions are not stayed, and one
other hath a voice for a very high mean. The last is Jack, of
whom I think you have taken best notice. The four, with all his
instruments, were all by my worthy companion bequeathed me.’ "
> > > > Byrd's compositions in
> > > > Latin likewise were unlikely to be heard outside
> > > > of it.
> > >
> > > Why is that? Byrd's masses, e.g., can be sung by just 4 or 5 people.
> >
> > Masses were illegal for the whole of the period.
> > Sung masses in Latin were trebly scandalous.
> > I doubt if much of a religious nature was sung
> > in Latin outside the Chapel Royal or in private in
> > the isolated houses of Catholics who didn't mind
> > taking a risk.
>
> This needs a little expansion. A "mass" as a musical setting of the Ordinary
> has to be distinguished from Mass as a religious service for which it is, or
> may be, intended. The Kyrie, Gloria, Credo and Sanctus have always been
> part of the Anglican service of Holy Communion, and Byrd's settings could
> have been used in that service. The Benedictus and Agnus Dei used not to
> be sung, since their biblical words, in their placing within the Mass, can
> be (and then were) construed as alluding to the rejected doctrine of
> transsubstantiation. I can't see why they could not at any time have been
> sung as anthems at Matins or Evensong, when that implication was not
> present, though that's not to say that they ever were.
I think you're missing the force of the
'Protestant revolution' outside of the Court
(and outside the restricted circumstances of
some Cathedrals). The singing of polyphonic
settings of parts of the Ordinary in Latin would
have been regarded as distinctly 'Romish' -- or
'Monkish' and would often have been unpopular
with a large segment of many congregations.
To get back to the question at issue: Where
would the Stratford man have been able to
listen to such glories?
Robert Stonehouse
>"Alan Jones" <a...@blueyonder.co.uk> wrote in message news:O%2d8.3287$AX5.1...@news-binary.blueyonder.co.uk...
>> "Paul Crowley" <pebj...@ubgznvy.pbz (apply ROT13)> wrote in message
>> news:3yYa8.367$W8....@news.indigo.ie...
>> > "John Harrington" <jbay...@my-deja.com> wrote in message
>> news:b97c7d0a.02021...@posting.google.com...
...
>> instance, the poet Milton's father.
>
>True. Rouse mentions an 'amateur madrigalist'
>-- but as though he was a rare beast.
Milton describes him as "a man eminent for his skill in musick, many
of his compositions being still to be found; and his reputation in
his profession was such, that he grew rich, and retired to an
estate." The composition of John Milton senior that we know now is
his contribution to The Triumphs of Oriana. Those contriibutions
were made (it seems) by invitation, and such an invitation would not
be issued to a mere dabbler. He must be taken seriously as a
composer.
Morley's books, I believe, say most about the state of musical
knowledge in his time. I can't quote, though - haven't got any. Of
course, they have to be read with an eye on the fact that he was
selling do-it-yourself musical education. But that mere fact, and
the fact that he did not starve, indicate the widening of culture in
his day.
...
ew...@bcs.org.uk