beroq
04-10-2009, 04:28 AM
I guess Thomas Chatterton could be considered as the most pathetic and dramatic figure in the history of English poetry -- between Pope and Burns. Here I'd like to share his story with you.
Chatterton was born at Bristol in 1752. For generations his family had held the office of sexton in the church of St. Mary Redcliffe, and during the poet life his uncle occupied the family position. His father, died before his birth, was both a musician and a kind of poet, as well as a student of occultism. Chatterton spent his early childhood wandering about St. Mary's, learning from his uncle the story of the knights and ecclesiastics, spelling out old deeds and manuscripts he found in the muniment room.
He was a lonely boy, writing satires before he was twelve, and living his life in the shadow of the bygone ages of chivalry and color. His persistent study of manuscripts and eerie understanding of medieval England enabled him to write a queer kind of old English.
One quotation from his "The Storie of William Canynge":
Straight was I carried back to times of yore,
Whilst Canynge swathed yet in fleshly bed,
And saw all actions which had been before,
And all the scroll of Fate unravelled;
And when the fate-marked babe acome to sight,
I saw him eager gasping after light.
Now, what is more interesting about him is that he knew that if he admitted that he himself was the author of poems written in an arhaic language, people would disallow them. So he launched one of the most famous of all literature masquerades. He pretented that his poems were the actual work of Thomas Rowley, and that he doscovered the manuscript in a chest in St. Mary Redcliffe. So, in order to get his his manuscript printed, he wrote to Horace Walpole, who was interested in the mediavel romance. At first Walpole was interested; but when Chatterton wrote to ask his help in getting congenial occupation in London, Horace found out that the boy's poetry was really modern and advised the poet to stick to his position in an attorney's office and to postpone the writing of poetry "until he should have made a fortune."
In the spring of 1770 Chatterton came to London, for some months, he contrived to support himself by hack journalism, writing political tirades in the manner of Junius. Payment was really bad, a shilling for each of his articles and less than eighteen pence for his poems. Desperate and disappointed, too proud to accept charity or to go back home, Chatterton poisoned himself with arsenic on August 24, 1770, in his garrett.
He was then seventeen years and nine months old.
Chatterton was born at Bristol in 1752. For generations his family had held the office of sexton in the church of St. Mary Redcliffe, and during the poet life his uncle occupied the family position. His father, died before his birth, was both a musician and a kind of poet, as well as a student of occultism. Chatterton spent his early childhood wandering about St. Mary's, learning from his uncle the story of the knights and ecclesiastics, spelling out old deeds and manuscripts he found in the muniment room.
He was a lonely boy, writing satires before he was twelve, and living his life in the shadow of the bygone ages of chivalry and color. His persistent study of manuscripts and eerie understanding of medieval England enabled him to write a queer kind of old English.
One quotation from his "The Storie of William Canynge":
Straight was I carried back to times of yore,
Whilst Canynge swathed yet in fleshly bed,
And saw all actions which had been before,
And all the scroll of Fate unravelled;
And when the fate-marked babe acome to sight,
I saw him eager gasping after light.
Now, what is more interesting about him is that he knew that if he admitted that he himself was the author of poems written in an arhaic language, people would disallow them. So he launched one of the most famous of all literature masquerades. He pretented that his poems were the actual work of Thomas Rowley, and that he doscovered the manuscript in a chest in St. Mary Redcliffe. So, in order to get his his manuscript printed, he wrote to Horace Walpole, who was interested in the mediavel romance. At first Walpole was interested; but when Chatterton wrote to ask his help in getting congenial occupation in London, Horace found out that the boy's poetry was really modern and advised the poet to stick to his position in an attorney's office and to postpone the writing of poetry "until he should have made a fortune."
In the spring of 1770 Chatterton came to London, for some months, he contrived to support himself by hack journalism, writing political tirades in the manner of Junius. Payment was really bad, a shilling for each of his articles and less than eighteen pence for his poems. Desperate and disappointed, too proud to accept charity or to go back home, Chatterton poisoned himself with arsenic on August 24, 1770, in his garrett.
He was then seventeen years and nine months old.