Poetry Reading Group Redux- Nominations

[LitNetIsGreat]

I love that we have eight different conversations going on at once. I'm not being sarcastic, I do like all the posts, but it's a bit much to try to respond to them all. There's the Romanticism/Classicism conversation, the nature/infinite discussion, the translation discussion, the commentary on art discussion, and now the psychological discussion.

Yes, it is quite interesting, there is a lot going off at once, different threads of thought and it is only the first poem – and a small one at that!

Than to Tintern Abbey, which to me is the exact opposite poem.

Neely brought up Tintern Abbey, but I don't think he was trying to equate the two poem's take on nature and the infinite. I think he was just saying that both use their meditations on these issues to find some comfort.

Yes, yes thank you. I almost see this poem as the exact opposite of “Tintern Abbey” when it comes down to the things that really matter, the psychological aspect of the poem and the internal motives of the narrator etc, etc. But where it is similar (for me) is really just in the minor, peripheral aspect of coming to a particular place you have been before in nature. Hence the explicit instance of naming “this lonely hill” “this hedgerow” “that hedge” as in totally emphasising that it is here, this very spot and nowhere else that gives pleasure, but, for totally differing reasons. Wordsworth emphasises the same in “these waters” “these steep and lofty cliffs” “this dark sycamore” and obviously in the naming of the poem so accurately with its full title being: "Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey on revisiting the banks of the Wye during a tour, July 13, 1798.” I mean this is written to such a degree of accuracy, like you would date a wedding anniversary or some momentous event, not the fact that he is sat under some bush, so that it is clear that it is this particular place that really matters to him for whatever reason. That was all really.

For me still, the importance of why in our poem the narrator figure comes to the hill is not because of the hill, rather it could be anything as I think Comedian suggested, but that it happens to help block out his internal struggles even if just for a moment. It offers a temporary respite. I still think that there is something to be taken from Leopardi's comments here:

...at times the spirit...desires a view which is in certain ways restricted and confined... The reason is...the desire for the infinite, because in those circumstances the imagination goes to work instead of the eyesight, and fantasy takes the place of what is real. The spirit imagines for itself what it cannot see, what that tree, that hedge, that tower hides from it, and goes wandering in an imaginary space, and pictures things it would not be able to if its sight extended everywhere, because the real would exclude the imaginary. Hence the pleasure which I always used to experience as a child, and do even now, in seeking the sky etc. Though a window, a doorway...

The narrator/Leopardi figure is using this particular surroundings because it fits perfectly to stir his imagination which ultimately blocks out what is real – fear or death, times passing or whatever...Certainly, there is more going off in this poem (there always is) but this would be my main way of viewing the piece at this time, though it is something that I am still musing on slowly, between “real” life...

In terms of connecting this to the sublime, this doesn’t really work for me, though perhaps it is just a different function of the sublime. I don’t see that he is particularly awestruck by his surroundings or that they inspire thoughts of God or death or creation or whatever, I think such thoughts are already there within him brooding away. I just think that he uses this particular layout of the land here, the way the hedge blocks the view etc, in order to take the pain of reality away.

[OrphanPip]

"Bientôt de la surface de la terre j'élevais mes idées à tous les êtres de la nature, au système universel des choses, à l'Etre incompréhensible qui embrasse tout." - Rousseau.

An attempted translation of the Rousseau quote by me:

Soon, from the surface of the ground I'll lift up my ideas to all the beings of nature, an universal system of things, to an incomprehensible Being that encompasses/embraces/grasps all.

Than to Tintern Abbey, which to me is the exact opposite poem. What Woodsworth is discussing, to me, is a wholeness found within his encounter with the Abbey and nature, whereas Leopardi seems to go the opposite direction; he is outside of it, and can only look at its enderlessness in contrast to his own limitation - he remarks on the extent that the illusion can sustain him, but he also laments the fact that the hill is merely a trick - my earlier comments toward the seasons and the wind to me suggest a reading based heavily on his use of the preposition "tra" which implies that everything passes through him, and the infinite offers him only a glimpse, implying his own mortality. The wind and the seasons then to me read as aspects of the infinity, as nature itself is, to me in my reading of Leopardi, central to his concept of the "infinity" or the endless.

What Leopardi does for much of his career is bemoan the cruelty of nature, as a bringer of suffering, in that it only affords brief periods that only lead to suffering and death. The hill then, in my reading, marks the viewing point, where he can see things move, and here the sounds, but ultimately, must descend from.

I find the influence of Rousseau intriguing. That quote from Rousseau seems to be exploring feelings about human impressions of nature and reality in conflict with an abstract concept of perfect, idealized knowledge embodied in a sort of divine "Being" that is ultimately "incomprehensible."

Leopardi does seem to be expressing a similar frustration with his own limitations, and that feeling of almost grasping something greater but having it slip away. However, Leopardi comes off as so much more depressing and negative than Rousseau, who almost seems like he thinks himself capable of understanding and reaching what is incomprehensible.

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed with the multiple directions the discussions are taking at the moment .

[Paulclem]

I don't know. You stop watching the thread for one night and you pop in a million posts!

I'll see if I can catch up.

[Paulclem]

Yes, it is quite interesting, there is a lot going off at once, different threads of thought and it is only the first poem – and a small one at that!





Yes, yes thank you. I almost see this poem as the exact opposite of “Tintern Abbey” when it comes down to the things that really matter, the psychological aspect of the poem and the internal motives of the narrator etc, etc. But where it is similar (for me) is really just in the minor, peripheral aspect of coming to a particular place you have been before in nature. Hence the explicit instance of naming “this lonely hill” “this hedgerow” “that hedge” as in totally emphasising that it is here, this very spot and nowhere else that gives pleasure, but, for totally differing reasons. Wordsworth emphasises the same in “these waters” “these steep and lofty cliffs” “this dark sycamore” and obviously in the naming of the poem so accurately with its full title being: "Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey on revisiting the banks of the Wye during a tour, July 13, 1798.” I mean this is written to such a degree of accuracy, like you would date a wedding anniversary or some momentous event, not the fact that he is sat under some bush, so that it is clear that it is this particular place that really matters to him for whatever reason. That was all really.

For me still, the importance of why in our poem the narrator figure comes to the hill is not because of the hill, rather it could be anything as I think Comedian suggested, but that it happens to help block out his internal struggles even if just for a moment. It offers a temporary respite. I still think that there is something to be taken from Leopardi's comments here:

...at times the spirit...desires a view which is in certain ways restricted and confined... The reason is...the desire for the infinite, because in those circumstances the imagination goes to work instead of the eyesight, and fantasy takes the place of what is real. The spirit imagines for itself what it cannot see, what that tree, that hedge, that tower hides from it, and goes wandering in an imaginary space, and pictures things it would not be able to if its sight extended everywhere, because the real would exclude the imaginary. Hence the pleasure which I always used to experience as a child, and do even now, in seeking the sky etc. Though a window, a doorway...

The narrator/Leopardi figure is using this particular surroundings because it fits perfectly to stir his imagination which ultimately blocks out what is real – fear or death, times passing or whatever...Certainly, there is more going off in this poem (there always is) but this would be my main way of viewing the piece at this time, though it is something that I am still musing on slowly, between “real” life...

In terms of connecting this to the sublime, this doesn’t really work for me, though perhaps it is just a different function of the sublime. I don’t see that he is particularly awestruck by his surroundings or that they inspire thoughts of God or death or creation or whatever, I think such thoughts are already there within him brooding away. I just think that he uses this particular layout of the land here, the way the hedge blocks the view etc, in order to take the pain of reality away.

Here's my reading of it.

The hill and hedgerow are precious - not as a sop to pain, but a positive place - a place to get someting out of rather than a refuge from. It is lonely/ deserted allowing this process to take place.

Does he contemplate infinity by blocking out the far horizon because it is just not " big" enough? His mind/meditation is better at contemplating this immensity/ God though it is scary - the huge infinite and the small finite contrasted. His evocation of fear suggests God to me, but a contmplation of infinity may well profduce such a feeling. I think the "more than human silences" nails that for me - though he doesn't refer to God directly. Perhaps he doesn't need to. I get the feeling that the "infinite silence" is an active silence - a chosen silence, and this supports the idea of God.

He then goes on to compare the rustling wind, infinite silence, the Eternal, past and present. His contemplation of these results in a delight which seems to come from being drowned in this awareness which is a super-normal perception. The use of drowning retains his fear and fragility in this thought sea.

My impression from the themes within it are that it is essentially a Romantic poem - I immediately realled Shelley and Wordsworth with the themes of contemplation/ imagination, the natural world - Neely's point about a specific place etc.

I appreciate the other conversations going on and I think there are a lot of great points being made.

The Infinite - perhaps so named because of the number of posts that could be made about it.

[mortalterror]

If we take this poem literally, then the hill is an actual place in Recanati, Italy and we can know exactly what the hill, trees, bushes, and seas look like because someone has probably taken a picture from the spot Leopardi writes about. Acting under this assumption I did a little googling and came up with this site. http://www.lovemarche.com/recanati.htm Scroll down to about the middle of the page just after the text "From here a marked distance leads to Monte Tabor, known as the hill of "l'Infinito" from which a charming panorama can be admired."

[LitNetIsGreat]

I appreciate the other conversations going on and I think there are a lot of great points being made.

Yes absolutely. For me it doesn't matter that we can't really get to every point - it's just fine to drift with a few thoughts and not to try to cover and counter-cover every post - though I always religiously read what others say, I do not, or cannot really respond to every thought; but I don’t think that’s a problem, it doesn’t worry me.

The Infinite - perhaps so named because of the number of posts that could be made about it.

If we take this poem literally, then the hill is an actual place in Recanati, Italy and we can know exactly what the hill, trees, bushes, and seas look like because someone has probably taken a picture from the spot Leopardi writes about. Acting under this assumption I did a little googling and came up with this site. http://www.lovemarche.com/recanati.htm Scroll down to about the middle of the page just after the text "From here a marked distance leads to Monte Tabor, known as the hill of "l'Infinito" from which a charming panorama can be admired."

Great find. Oh, god I need to go to Italy as part of a huge six month continental tour.

[Virgil]

That is a great find Mortal!

Have we discussed this poem to death or shall we continue to explore the infinite?

Any thoughts on the last line? Why does his fear transition to delight or ease, depending on the translation?

[JBI]

If we take this poem literally, then the hill is an actual place in Recanati, Italy and we can know exactly what the hill, trees, bushes, and seas look like because someone has probably taken a picture from the spot Leopardi writes about. Acting under this assumption I did a little googling and came up with this site. http://www.lovemarche.com/recanati.htm Scroll down to about the middle of the page just after the text "From here a marked distance leads to Monte Tabor, known as the hill of "l'Infinito" from which a charming panorama can be admired."

To me that sounds a lot like "Romeo and Juliet's house" in Verona, or any other number of associations made for tourism. As it is, I don't think there really is this "hill" per-say, and I took it to be a vehicle. As it is, this is probably the most popular 19th century Italian poem from what I can gather, so labeling the hill creates a pretty simple landmark - and the view is nice too, so that helps as well.

[Quark]

But where it is similar (for me) is really just in the minor, peripheral aspect of coming to a particular place you have been before in nature. Hence the explicit instance of naming “this lonely hill” “this hedgerow” “that hedge” as in totally emphasising that it is here, this very spot and nowhere else that gives pleasure, but, for totally differing reasons. Wordsworth emphasises the same in “these waters” “these steep and lofty cliffs” “this dark sycamore”

If we take this poem literally, then the hill is an actual place in Recanati, Italy

To me that sounds a lot like "Romeo and Juliet's house" in Verona, or any other number of associations made for tourism. As it is, I don't think there really is this "hill" per-say, and I took it to be a vehicle.

While I share a little bit of JBI's skepticism, I like the idea of an actual hill that the speaker is pointing to when he points to the hill and "this hedgerow" in the poem. I think Leopardi is trying to create a tension between the particular and the universal in the poem by--as Neely observes--using demonstratives to locate the hill and hedge. It's "this" or "that" hill and hedge, not just any hill and hedge. They contrast with the nameless, featureless infinite beyond. I like the idea that the hill is a real one, then, because it makes it even more particularized.

Soon, from the surface of the ground I'll lift up my ideas to all the beings of nature, an universal system of things, to an incomprehensible Being that encompasses/embraces/grasps all.

That makes the poem sound more hopeful. It makes it sound like the incomprehensible being is silent in the poem because it's "incomprehensible," not because it isn't there.

The hill and hedgerow are precious - not as a sop to pain, but a positive place - a place to get someting out of rather than a refuge from. It is lonely/ deserted allowing this process to take place.

I agree with you and JBI that the hill is a place of vision and investigation, but there's something to what Neely is saying, too. It's both a hill that allows for vision and a lone, protected place where the speaker can shield himself or herself. The hedge blocks vision, ultimately. And the hill is a place where the speaker can distance himself from society. That makes the setting as much a shelter as it is exposed. Maybe we could say that the hill is psychologically sheltering while being philosophically stimulating.

His evocation of fear suggests God to me, but a contmplation of infinity may well profduce such a feeling. I think the "more than human silences" nails that for me - though he doesn't refer to God directly. Perhaps he doesn't need to. I get the feeling that the "infinite silence" is an active silence - a chosen silence, and this supports the idea of God.

When you say it's an "active" silence, who is the actor you're referring to? Is it God who is "choos[ing]" the silence? Or, is it the speaker?

As for the word "fear," I think it could go either way. You're right that it could indicate fear and trembling in encountering the divine. But, it also could indicate that the divine doesn't exist. The silence could be an empty one. Interpretations of the words "fear" and "silence" in this poem balance on a knife's edge, and it seems like they could go just as easily one way as the other.

[Paulclem]

When you say it's an "active" silence, who is the actor you're referring to? Is it God who is "choos[ing]" the silence? Or, is it the speaker?

As for the word "fear," I think it could go either way. You're right that it could indicate fear and trembling in encountering the divine. But, it also could indicate that the divine doesn't exist. The silence could be an empty one. Interpretations of the words "fear" and "silence" in this poem balance on a knife's edge, and it seems like they could go just as easily one way as the other.

It is ambiguous but on balance I'd go with an actively silent God, which could also account for the fear factor. I take your pont about infinity without God also producing fear. In the end though we don't have terror - we have a little fear sprinkled with delight.

[mayneverhave]

Is it necessary for there to be an actual hill? Is Lycidas any less of a poem because Milton wasn't good friends with Edward King?

[Paulclem]

Is it necessary for there to be an actual hill? Is Lycidas any less of a poem because Milton wasn't good friends with Edward King?

No, but it does serve a purpose in estabishing a here and now feeling of reality which contrasts with the idea of eternity - though this is only according to some readings such as Neely's and others.

[LitNetIsGreat]

Is it necessary for there to be an actual hill? Is Lycidas any less of a poem because Milton wasn't good friends with Edward King?

No, but it does serve a purpose in estabishing a here and now feeling of reality which contrasts with the idea of eternity - though this is only according to some readings such as Neely's and others.

Yes, the actual hill is important for me in the context of the poem. I get the impression that for whatever reason the narrator comes to that particular hill and not just a random place in the country. It is "his spot" if you like. In terms of if the tourist spot was the actual hill or not of course doesn't matter, I'm talking about within the context of the poem, it is one place he seems to go to, his little retreat. The difference being that the poem doesn't say "a" hill, it says "this" hill and the fact that it does so in the same way three times in such a short poem suggests to me that it is potentially significant.

[Virgil]

When you say it's an "active" silence, who is the actor you're referring to? Is it God who is "choos[ing]" the silence? Or, is it the speaker?

As for the word "fear," I think it could go either way. You're right that it could indicate fear and trembling in encountering the divine. But, it also could indicate that the divine doesn't exist. The silence could be an empty one. Interpretations of the words "fear" and "silence" in this poem balance on a knife's edge, and it seems like they could go just as easily one way as the other.

It is ambiguous but on balance I'd go with an actively silent God, which could also account for the fear factor. I take your pont about infinity without God also producing fear. In the end though we don't have terror - we have a little fear sprinkled with delight.

You know I think the difference in readings have to do with the translation one is using. The Nichols translation does make it sound like the presence of the numinous while the Grennan translation suggests an emptiness, a vacuum. Compare this section:

Nichols:

...And as I hear
The wind rustle among the leaves, I set
That infinite silence up against this voice,
Comparing them; and I recall the eternal,
And the dead seasons, and the present one
Alive, and all the sound of it. And so
In this immensity my thought is drowned:

Grennan:

...And hearing the wind
Rush rustling through these bushes,
I pit its speech against infinite silence--
And a notion of eternity floats to my mind,
And the dead seasons, and the season
Beating here and now, and the sound of it. So,
In this immensity my thoughts all drown;

I can see how the Nichols translation suggests Romanticism. I've been supporting my anti Romantic reading solely based on the Grennan. And frankly as I compare the Italian, while the Grennan is more poetic, I don't think it's as faithful to the original Italian.

I may owe Quark an apology. The Nichols translation does seem like the poem is within the Romantic tradition, and if the Nichols is closer to the Italian, then the poem is within the Romantic tradition.

[Quark]

In the end though we don't have terror - we have a little fear sprinkled with delight.

Yes, it is fear mixed with delight. I suppose we'll each have to decide what's the proportion between them.

Is it necessary for there to be an actual hill? Is Lycidas any less of a poem because Milton wasn't good friends with Edward King?

Yes and no. I like that the hill is actual because it highlights the tension between the infinite and the particular. But, at the same time, the hill needs to be nondescript enough to slide into the background when the speaker begins his or her contemplation of the infinite. If we got too caught up with the hill itself, we might lose sight of the philosophical beyond that the speaker conjures up. Leopardi does well in the poem to make the hill particular enough, but not too much so.

You know I think the difference in readings have to do with the translation one is using.

Yeah, it's difficult working with such a short and subtle poem in translation. As JBI has pointed out, some words in these translations don't even correspond with anything in the Italian. That makes it even more difficult to interpret the finer points of this poem--like what the speaker's "fear" consists of or what the hill and hedge mean. One probably can't so cavalierly call it Romantic or Neo-Classical as I was trying to do. It's probably best to move more cautiously with this poem (particularly, when the words keep changing).

Any thoughts on the last line? Why does his fear transition to delight or ease, depending on the translation?

That's a good question. It's also a tough question. Maybe we should break it down. First of all, what is he slipping into? What is the immensity? Is it the same as the infinite? Is something added to infinite by the meditation he has on "the season now" and "the leaves?" Before I say something stupid, I'd like to know whether there's a consensus on what the "immensity" is.

Have we discussed this poem to death or shall we continue to explore the infinite?

Funny. Infinity really is a good symbol for this discussion. The number of posts keeps going up, but we never seem to be anywhere near an end. It will have to stop at some point, though. Do you want to take the next poem?