Uncovering Writing

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I originally acquired this collection of three of Lord Byron’s closet dramas for “Cain”. He did not disappoint. I loved it. It reminded me of Milton’s Paradise Lost. One of my favorite lines was: “Cain: Where dost thou lead me? / Lucifer: To what was before thee! The phantasm of the world; of which thy world is but the wreck.” (Cain, Act II, Scene 1). I’d rate Cain a solid 5 stars and can see returning to it often.

I also really enjoyed Sardanapolus, though it started out a little slow and I almost started skimming. But, it took off and I’d rate it a solid 4. I didn’t enjoy the Two Foscari, but I still skimmed it to the end, and would give it 2-3 stars.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

An enjoyable read, especially his Alpine Journal from September 1816. Through the course of these entries, I liked when he referenced specific pieces he was working on, e.g. Mazeppa, Childe Harold, Don Juan, Cain (pp. 280-2), and Lara (p. 357). I loved that he was working on Sardanapalus after having perused Seneca’s tragedies (p. 246). [I just finished reading six of his plays, translated by Emily Wilson.] I liked his comments on various people, especially Shelley, Keats and Wordsworth. The section entitled “Anthology of Memorable Passages in Byron’s Letters and Journals” is absolutely invaluable (pp. 325-36).

Some special highlights include his letters to Coleridge re: the Christabel poem (pp. 114-5); to Murray on the famous Ghost story competition at Diodati (pp. 195-7); and his letter to Goethe (p. 294). Also, I was touched by his writing about a fan letter he received from a dying woman who said that Byron’s works had contributed to her pleasure and she simply wanted to let him know. Byron wrote to Thomas Moore that he could not burn the letter as she had requested since “I look upon such a letter, in such circumstances, as better than a diploma from Gottingen” (p. 255).

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

What a fun and educational read. The dedication to Southey and other first generation Romantics who turned their backs on liberalism and embraced Tory causes reminded me of Byron’s great romp in English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. For epic tear-downs, Byron’s got it.

Canto 1 was awesome. The story of Juan’s parent’s marriage was great and I loved his description of his affair with Donna Julia. Canto 2 has a wonderful quote: “H/e fell upon whate’er was offer’d, like / A priest, a shark, an alderman, or pike.” (Stanza CLXII). The third canto wasn’t as good, more rambling, but still full of barbs. Canto V notes how everyone wants to write a book recounting their travel experiences in order to win praise. Canto’s VI, IX, XIII and XIV were also really good.

Overall, Don Juan was a fun melding of satire, political commentary, storytelling, and reflections on societal mores. If we isolated just the Don Juan segments, it’d be an amazing story on its own, but adding in everything else makes it so much better.

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

An interesting, if possibly unreliable, diary of Dr. John Polidori, who was for a short time Lord Byron's doctor and traveling companion. Polidori's sister transcribed the diary and admitted editing out some unsavory pieces. She then destroyed the original manuscript. His nephew then edited and published his aunt's transcript.

Having said that, it was fun to read his entries that coincided with Byron working on Childe Harold and Mary Wollstonecraft working on Frankenstein.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

After reading an excerpt of Byron’s Manfred in a collection of his poetry, I knew I had to read the full closet drama. It is a fascinating work that develops ideas of spirits, power originating from oneself instead of from gods or nature, dying on your own terms, trying to forget past sins, living a life without the need for a final redemption. The Poetry Foundation’s biography of Byron says its main theme is defiant humanism, and I find those words perfect. Many have speculated that Manfred’s horrible, unnamed sin regards a forbidden love with his half-sister Augusta. This is developed in the play when Manfred and an evil spirit conjure up Astarte who remains speechless except for uttering a prophecy of his impending death (Act II, scene IV).

My copy of Manfred also included Byron’s Lament of Tasso and the poem Beppo. I didn’t really get much from Tasso, a short poem that never really caught my ear or mind. But, my first thought on starting Beppo was “Wow”. It is a stunning satire, which includes nice “burns” of other poets, an attack on paying off one’s sins with contributions, and a comparison of morals between Italians and some self-righteous English folk. Beppo reminded me a bit of Byron’s English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, from the pacing, biting wit and frequent use of asides to the reader.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Byron’s The Siege of Corinth and Parisina were published in 1816. They show his developing style that is fast, fluid and full of information. It’s like he’s writing prose in verse form. Both poems read so fast and grab your attention from the first word and hang on to you until the last breath.

The Siege of Corinth tells the story of a man who left Corinth, converted from Christianity to Islam and then helped the Turks siege and destroy that city. There are bits of ghost story, nervousness before battle, fighting, religion, morality and how mothers grieve for their children. It includes thoughts on hearing the Muslim call to prayer (lines 221-228), something I felt and wrote similarly about when I was in Morocco (lines 221-228):

As rose the Muezzin's voice in air In midnight call to wonted prayer; It rose, that chaunted mournful strain, Like some lone spirit's o'er the plan: 'Twas musical, but sadly sweet, Such as when winds and harp-strings meet, And take a long unmeasured tone, To mortal minstrelsy unknown.

Also, Stanza XVIII (lines 450-461) really reminded me of Percy Shelley’s poem Ozymandias in its discussing a temple ruin. Shelley’s poem was written during the Christmas season of 1817-1818, over a year after The Siege of Corinth came out. While it has a different focus, I wonder if Shelley had Byron’s piece, which he most certainly would have read, in the back of his mind:

There is a temple in ruin stands, Fashion'd by long forgotten hands; Two or three columns, and many a stone, Marble and granite, with grass o'ergrown ! Out upon Time ! it will leave no more Of the things to come than the things before ! Out upon Time ! who for ever will leave But enough of the past for the future to grieve O'er that which hath been, and o'er that which must be: What we have seen, our sons shall see; Remnants of things that have pass'd away, Fragments of stone rear'd by creatures of clay !

Parisina, like the Siege of Corinth, is based on true events, though some license has been taken. Like the other poem, it flows rapidly and in just 585 lines, it tells a gripping and story around three central characters (a marquis, his wife and his son by a different woman).

Well worth the time to engage with these two poems.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I really enjoyed Byron’s Lara, especially the first canto. The passion and drive of youth and the reflection, sadness and loss of age. This work still sheds light today with this item from Canto 2, VIII (lines 867-8): “Religion–Freedom–Vengeance–what you will,/A word’s enough to raise mankind to kill”.

I have to say that I really enjoy such storytelling in verse. Byron does it so well. Today, some authors try to craft the perfect prose but forsake their story or plot. They craft beautiful structures but nothing adorns these empty shells. I think we’ve lost much with the passing of epic storytelling in verse.

My edition also included Jacqueline, a poem by Samuel Rogers. Not the best story, but some very nice verse. That’s something he was known for, especially with his most famous piece, The Pleasures of Memory (1792).

Thoroughly enjoyed The Corsair. Much better story and development than I found in The Bride of Abydos. The meter worked so well that I only sensed it just below the surface. I simply read the story but the structure was there throughout, guiding and accentuating.

It’s been fun working through Byron from his early to later works. You can see his talent develop and his various experiments with form as he gets more under his belt. Still more to read!

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The second of the Turkish tales wasn’t as good as the first (The Giaour). The story felt rushed, especially in the concluding canto. But, I enjoyed it, hence the 3 stars. I was especially fond of the XII stanza of the 1st canto. Fast pacing, lovely verse. The first few lines are:

He lived — he breathed — he moved — he felt; He raised the maid from where she knelt; His trance was gone — his keen eye shone With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt; With thoughts that burn — in rays that melt.

I enjoyed the first of the so-called Turkish tales that Byron wrote. Good storytelling and pacing. I also enjoyed reading a note of his about the Muslim call to prayer. He writes that it is “solemn and beautiful beyond all the bells of Christendom” (p. 21). I felt the same way when I heard it in Morocco.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

As soon as I finished reading this, I gave it 4 stars. Having let it sit in my mind for a bit and now as I sit down to write this review, I’m going to change it to 5. The poetry itself (in four cantos) is very good and I’d rate Byron’s work a solid 4. However the notes in the edition I read were spectacular and pushed my rating up. The almost 100 pages of notes include history, social issues, and contemporary commentary. They are written in English, Latin, classical Greek and Italian, and cite present and classical authors in their native tongues. So very cool and even further accelerate my desire to learn Latin.

Byron wrote the first two cantos and published them. These are interesting and good, but I think he’s still feeling out where he’s going with it. By the third canto, I began to see the Byron of later works turn from seedling to blossom. He’s mastering speed, pacing and content and you can almost see him reflecting and growing as a poet. By the fourth canto, he is in his own, filling my heart and mind with each stanza.

Like in his Curse of Minerva, published the same year as the first two cantos of Childe Harold, Byron calls out those who have looted and stolen Greek treasures (such as the Elgin Marbles):

Dull is the eye that will not weep to see Thy walls defaced, thy mouldering shrines removed By British hands, which it had best behoved To guard those relics ne'er to be restored. Curst be the hour when from their isle they roved, And once again thy hapless bosom gored, And snatch'd thy shrinking Gods to northern climes abhorr'd! Canto II: XV

As I’m starting to look into Horace’s works, it was fun to run across this oft cited stanza:

Then farewell, Horace; whom I hated so, Not for thy faults, but mine; it is a curse To understand, not feel thy lyric flow, To comprehend, but never love thy verse, Although no deeper Moralist rehearse Our little life, nor Bard prescribe his art, Nor livelier Satirist the conscience pierce, Awakening without wounding the touch'd heart, Yet fare thee well–upon Soracte's ridge we part. Canto IV: LXXVII

One thought I had continually as I read through Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage was that Byron’s poetry (and most poetry) should be read aloud. The cadences that develop as you speak it add another depth to the work. It’s almost like listening to classical music. You can hear it on one level and appreciate it, but sometimes, there’s something else just underneath perception that swells or crushes your heart. I get this with Mozart and I get it with many selections from Byron (e.g. this poem, Mazeppa, and parts of Manfred). Byron was a fan of Coleridge’s Christabel and Kubla Khan, and I can see why as those poems also carry beautiful imagery and pacing within them.

This first volume of Byron’s Miscellanies (1853 edition) contains “Hours of Idleness” (his first, official published collection), English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, The Curse of Minerva, Hints from Horace, The Waltz, Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte, Hebrew Melodies, Domestic Pieces, Monody on the Death of Sheridan and The Dream. I’ve written a bit already about some of these works, so this review will touch on those I haven’t covered.

I picked up this book primarily to get a copy of the Curse of Minerva. This is Byron’s piece attacking Lord Elgin for stripping the Parthenon in Athens of many friezes and metope panels, which came to be called the Elgin Marbles. I stand with Byron then and Greece today in demanding that the British Museum return these stolen antiquities to Greece. The introduction by the editor of these volumes seems to echo the then contemporary, and still today, line that the Marbles were “saved” and would have been destroyed if left there. This ignored the fact that these items had been fine in situ for more than 2,200 years. As for the poem itself, I thoroughly enjoyed it, especially as Minerva (Athena) actively interacts with the narrator.

Hints from Horace was good, a kind of sequel to English Bards, with Byron still going after Robert Southey. The Waltz wasn’t that great, and I’ve read that Byron tried to say someone else wrote it and used his name after the poem was so ill-received. I thought Hebrew Melodies was weaker than his other works, lacking bite and wit. But, there was one that I liked, “The Destruction of Senneacherib (p. 319). For me, it foreshadows the horse ride in Mazeppa, echoing the gallop, rhythm and flow. In Domestic Pieces, I liked “Fare Thee Well” (p. 328) and Epistle to Augusta. In the latter, I was moved by the line “Even for its own sake, do we purchase pain” (p. 336).

Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte was an interesting piece. Per the editor’s notes, only the first 11 stanzas were part of the original poem. The publisher asked for more stanzas to avoid a stamp duty for publishing only a single sheet. The original stanzas were powerful and moving, while the ones added afterward were awful. The final 3 weren’t even published in Byron’s lifetime.

Finally, I have to say that I read every set of endnotes and learned something valuable from each of them. Well done to the editor.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

“Fools are my theme, let satire be my song” (line 5). With that, Byron goes on to produce an amazing poetical attack of many contemporary writers. Byron created this work in response to the savage attack by the Edinburgh Review on his first published work of poetry, Hours of Idleness.

Holding up Alexander Pope, John Dryden, John Milton and Homer as the best examples, Byron rages against those whom he considers mediocre or worse. The recipients of his couplets include Robert Southey, William Wordsworth, Samuel T. Coleridge and Walter Scott. With respect to Scott, I think Byron more attacks his poetry, suggesting he keep to writing prose. Byron also aims his razor-sharp wit at many minor Romantic era writers. His rhymed takedowns are memorable, fierce and bold. I laughed out loud at times. When attacking Nathaniel Bloomfield, he writes

Him too the Mania, not the Muse, has seized Not inspiration, but a mind diseased."

For any writer that has feared a critic, this is an encouraging read!

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I enjoyed reading Byron’s first book of published poetry, Hours of Idleness. I’d read a few of these items in a collected works edition, but it was nice to see it all together. I simply love reading Byron’s poetry. Even if I don’t always recall the specific work, the joy I feel when reading is such a treat. A purely visceral treat.

A Fragment is one of my favorite early pieces. It was also included in Fugitive Pieces, his very first collection of poetry that was almost completely destroyed after it was printed. I enjoyed The Tear, though it felt a little like teenage angst poetry. Oscar of Alva (p. 37) was a great story of two brothers and a bride. “Thoughts suggested by a College Examination” (p. 103) was very cool and true. Fact memorization vs understanding and knowledge are two very different things. The “Essay on Newstead Abbey” (p. 128) has a note about Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries, which was so timely given that I just read about that in The English Library before 1700. “Stanzas” (p. 156) had great flow and a nice “sadness” about it. I especially liked the 4th stanza.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Rarely has a book, read in such small doses, given me such pleasure. Matthew Arnold certainly pulled together a wonderful sampling of Byron’s poetry. I’ve carried this tiny volume around the house and throughout Wales and London, sampling a poem here and there as I had time, often before bed. Almost every selection brought me joy and made me think. The samples pulled me out of time and place and let me simply enjoy the words and imagery. Well done, Lord Byron and Mr. Arnold.

Some of the pieces stood out more than the others. The samples from Childe Harold: Solitude (p. 27) and Bereavement (p. 31). The excepts from the Prisoner of Chillon volume were great as well: The Dream (p. 35) and Bonnnivard and His Brothers (p. 119). The poem She Walks in Beauty (p. 46) was sublime. So simple, so short, yet so wonderful. I have a copy of Mazeppa and was happy to revisit “his ride” (p. 159). I’d never read any of Manfred, but after reading Act i, Scene 2 and Act ii, Scene 2, I’ve added it to my list of things to acquire and read. Likewise, Cain was new to me and I thoroughly enjoyed the excerpt “Cain and Adah” (p. 228). A great critique of original sin and how we react when we are burdened by the crimes of our parents. I definitely felt a sense of Milton in this piece, so I look forward to reading it in its entirety some day.

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I enjoyed reading Byron’s first book of poetry, even though it was recalled before being published and all but four copies destroyed. It’s interesting (sad, funny, and hypocritical) that the edition I read was a photo facsimile of the Rev. Becher’s copy of the book. He was the one who told Byron that several poems were too risqué. In response, Byron recalled the print run and destroyed it. But, the Rev. kept his copy to himself and it has survived.

It was fun to read these early poems, which focus mostly on young love, passion, death and how one will be remembered. Some of his poems reminded me of some lines I wrote during college, showing that some of what makes us human has continued to be passed down through the generations.

One poem that caused Rev. Becher distress was called “To Mary” (p 17-19). It was an exciting piece about a former lover, that dwelt on their passionate moments. Somewhat mild by today’s standards in its choice of words, it remains thrilling and exciting. It shows an inkling of the passion, pacing and fire Byron will bring to his later works. It’s always cool to see a writer progress. It think “The Tear” (p. 43-46) also shows hints of the future Byron, using a single tear to show true and sincere emotion and honor, moving beyond empty words or actions.

I really liked a little fragment (1803) he had about how he wanted to be remembered:

Oh! may my shade behold no sculptur'd urns, To mark the spot, where earth to earth returns. No lengthen'd scroll of virtue, and renown, My epitath, shall be my name alone; If that with honour fails to crown my clay, Oh! may no other fame my deeds repay; That, only that, shall single out the shot, By that remember'd, or fore'er forgot.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Having read several books on books in a row, it was nice to get back to some poetry. This was a great volume to choose. The title piece was wonderful. Its rhythm was excellent. Byron used nature to cheer the prisoner, but not in a way that diminished the despair or hopelessness of the situation. It was a moment of beauty that wasn’t over-written. He captures the sadness of the prisoner’s food and the cruelty of his captors:

Our bread was such as captive's tears Have moisten'd many a thousands years Since man first pent his fellow man Like brutes within an iron den (lines 134-137)

I originally bought this volume for 'Darkness', and I wasn't disappointed. It is an apocalyptic tale that was influenced by a real world Indonesian volcanic eruption that affected weather throughout Europe (darkness, cold weather, etc.).

‘The Dream’ is a sad tale of young lovers who went their separate ways yet never could forget each other. As the man reflects while he is getting married, his new bride wasn’t “The Starlight of his Boyhood” (line 148).

Overall, a great read that I will come back to again.

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I have wanted to read Byron and add a book of his to my collection for awhile now. But much of it never grabbed my heart when I browsed through it. Maybe it was my mood, maybe the time, or maybe I simply wasn’t a Byron fan. But, I was always drawn back, partly because of how he lived his life and partly the company he kept. I came to Mazeppa by a roundabout route. It wasn’t the title poem but “A Fragment”, a short piece included when it was first published in 1819. That was my hook. The title poem then exerted its power over me, and the deal was complete with “Ode”, a poem on Venice.

The title poem is a story recounted by a much older Mazeppa, a military commander with a Swedish king, retreating after the Battle of Poltava. He recounts how he learned his horse riding skills during his youth when he was a page in the Polish royal court. At that time, he fell in love with the wife of one of the Counts and they met secretly to make love. They were caught and he was strapped naked to a wild horse and set off into the country, presumably to die. Mazeppa survived the ordeal, but oh the writing as the horse flies through the countryside, forest and water. I felt like I was on the horse, with the language and flow of the meter. A very exciting poem that touches on many Romantic themes. I loved the descriptions of nature, the horse Mazeppa is on as well as a band of wild horses he encounters. Despair, wonder, excitement, passion, loss: all swirl round. Byron was also a vegetarian and his love of animals comes out in one section on the wild horse

With flowing tail, and flying mare, Wide nostrils– never stretched by pain, Mouths bloodless to the bit or rein And feet that iron never shod, And flanks unscarr’d by spur or rod” (lines 679-683)

“Ode” is an ode on Venice, lamenting the decay of Venice, the loss of freedom and the tyranny of rulers in a post Congress of Vienna world One section that stood out to me was:

“Ye men, who pour your blood for kings as water, What have they given your children in return? A heritage of servitude and woes, A blindfold bondage, where your hire is blows” (lines 67-70)

Finally, “A Fragment” is Byron’s contribution to the ghost writing contest from the summer of 1816 on Lake Geneva. The contest, conceived of by Byron, invited Mary and Percy Shelley, John Polidori and himself to write ghost stories to pass the time during a very rainy summer. Byron only wrote a tiny opening, just over 10 pages. The fragment is dated June 17, 1816 and is one of the first vampire stories. It features a narrator and his companion, Augustus Darvell, who are traveling to the East in the 1700s. The story starts off very slowly, but by the time they reach a cemetery in Turkey, it is flying and I was caught. And then, just as quickly, it ends. Byron never developed it afterwards, and intended the fragment to be published in a magazine, not appended to Mazeppa. John Polidori, inspired by Byron’s fragment, published his own vampire novel in 1819, entitled “The Vampyre.” The main character is modeled on Byron. Interestingly, when Polidori’s work was first published, it was erroneously attributed to Lord Byron.