And now Robert is 200 and a day


“I love best the poets who hurt me. When in reading a poem I come across some line that thrusts itself into my heart — then is my soul knit unto the soul of that poet forevermore. Browning hurts me worse than any poet I have ever read — so I love him most.”

Lucy Maud Montgomery


"Or from Browning some 'Pomegranate,' which, if cut deep down the middle,
shows a heart within blood-tinctured of a veined humanity."

Elizabeth Barrett (1844)


There were a number of lovely tributes to Robert Browning for his birthday yesterday, but this one from Kimberly Eve at Musings of a Writer is especially notable for placing brief, introductory excerpts from his writings among relevant selections of art. I'd recommend it for those wanting a light first sample.


An interesting post from the blog of the University of Texas' English department led me to Max Beerbohm's caricature of Browning introducing a "lady of rank" to Rossetti. (Does that look like Lizzy Siddal dressed as a maid?)
Here's Robert and Elizabeth's correspondence on the 7th of May, 1846 and here are Emma Thompson and Stephen Fry making fun of the courtship that often seems more famous than the poets' literary accomplishments. (It's a little ways into the video, past a song and Hugh Laurie talking gibberish fluently.)

I've had a bad day, so I'm off to take comfort in "Rabbi Ben Ezra". I'm not sure that right now I truly believe "the best is yet to be", but the poem is long enough to provide comfort simply through its meter. (Today I've gone around repeating, "The count your master's known munificence is ample warrant that no just pretense of mine for dowry will be disallowed," just because the flow is yummy.)

So, readers, do you agree with Browning's optimism? What's your favorite Browning poem?

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A Letter to Robert Browning on his 200th Birthday



How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

(Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnets from the Portuguese, XLIII )

Dear Mr. Browning,

I don't pretend to understand you perfectly. At the moment I can't remember if "Sordello" is a man, a city or a book. But I do want to count a few of the ways I love you.

I first became especially interested in you over a year ago during a time of discouragement and depression. Have you had a chance to read George Eliot's Armgart? Well, like Armgart, my sense of self became intertwined with my singing voice, and when I thought my voice might not amount to anything, I became depressed. But a line from your poem about "Andrea del Sarto" ("the faultless painter" who has essentially stolen money from his patron to satisfy his worldly wife) kept ringing in my mind, "Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?" I read the whole monologue and the truths the painter expresses out of his pain and failure came to be a part of how I view art and ambition.

In this world, who can do a thing, will not;
And who would do it, cannot, I perceive:
Yet the will's somewhat--somewhat, too, the power--
And thus we half-men struggle.

In "Rabbi Ben Ezra" too you helped me recognize the presence of hope in apparent failure. When I'm discouraged and questioning the worth of my life and struggles, when I'm longing to choose the easy path, I remember lines like these:

Then, welcome each rebuff
That turns earth's smoothness rough,
Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go!
Be our joys three-parts pain!
Strive, and hold cheap the strain;
Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!

For thence,—a paradox
Which comforts while it mocks,—
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail:
What I aspired to be,
And was not, comforts me:
A brute I might have been, but would not sink i' the scale.

Thoughts hardly to be packed
Into a narrow act,
Fancies that broke through language and escaped;
All I could never be,
All, men ignored in me,
This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped.


So, you see, I'm easily discouraged by myself, but there you are, loudly proclaiming through various characters what G. K. Chesterton saw as your first great theory, "the hope which lies in the imperfection of man." Perhaps your wife put it just as well in her most famous sonnet, noting that the soul reaches its greatest depths and heights when feeling the impossibility of ever becoming what it was created to be.

There are other things I love about you too. I love that in times when the foundations of English society were being challenged, when Tennyson was crying out in agony that he was "in infant crying for the light," you were declaring that you "prize[d] the doubt" and using that doubt as the basis for a vigorous faith that made you "ever a fighter".

I love your sense of fun, even when it may have a tragic lining. Someday, like the little American boy, I'll visit London and the "nabby where the man is ded that wrote the Pied Piper [sic]."

Rats!
They fought the dogs and killed the cats,
And bit the babies in the cradles,
And ate the cheeses out of the vats,
And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles,
Split open the kegs of salted sprats,
Made nests inside men's Sunday hats,
And even spoiled the women's chats,
By drowning their speaking
With shrieking and squeaking
In fifty different sharps and flats.

Mr. Browning, you're a part of my life now. Yesterday as I recited My Last Duchess in the shower, my mother was afraid I was listening or talking to some modern device which would electrocute me. She really should have been afraid of the sinister character of the duke, revealed so subtly that every new reading gives a greater appreciation of your masterful art.

You've given me laughter, rhymes to run up and down the corridors of my mind, comfort in pain, rebukes in self-pity, faith in doubt, and countless sources of intellectual stimulation. A girl couldn't ask for much more.

Affectionately,

Sarah (aka Lit~Lass)


P.S. I hope you know what 'links' are, in case, after the passage of so many years, you're left saying, "I can't remember me own verses".


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April Reading Roundup

My family and are soon to "quit Norland", so I have an exceedingly busy week or two ahead which will probably keep me from posting for Browning's Bicentennial as I had planned. It's also cut the time I've devoted to writing a few of this month's reviews, so forgive their brevity.

In a Dog's Heart by Jennifer Arnold (nonfiction, audiobook, 7 ½ hours)

I'm posting this first because it is a Must Read for dog owners. Actually it's a Must Read for anyone who's ever going to be around dogs in any capacity, be it feeding the neighbors' dog while they're on vacation or having a child run towards a dog at the park.

With sections on feeding, training, first-aid and choosing a dog, it's a good first-time owner's handbook and will remind long-time owners of the responsibilities and privileges of dog ownership.

The author, Jennifer Arnold, is the founder of Canine Assistants, a foundation that provides service dogs for those with various disabilities. Her experiences provide numerous stories of the power of the canine-human connection and the astounding selflessness dogs have revealed in serving, rescuing and comforting humans.

But perhaps most valuable is Arnold's indictment of the Alpha-dominance training philosophy (popularized by Cesar Milan). Incidents of dog bites have risen as human's refuse to respect dog's indications of fear and pain (such as growling) and ascribe every behavior to a mistaken-belief in dogs' drive for dominance. Arnold presents a kind, yet balanced system of ethics to guide our relationships with dogs which cannot be ignored without further estrangement from a naturally beautiful partnership.

If only for her clear insights on how dog's minds work (hint: we've simplified them into dominance-hungry wolves), this book should be read by every dog owner. For its insights into how human's inadvertently cause “aggression” in dogs, this should be read by anyone who ever comes into contact with dogs. Real, genuine aggression in dogs, Arnold explains, “is so rare as to be statistically almost nonexistent.”

Lastly, the insights into the almost magical power of the human-canine bond, its benefits to humans,and what we owe animals, should make this required reading for every person who has ever wondered about animal's rights and their place in our world.

A Favorite Quote: "We must remember that dogs are not wolves; they are both our wards and our team-mates, but never our enemies. Our relationship [with dogs] compensates for our individual weaknesses as species and creates a whole vastly superior to the sum of its parts."


Jane Austen: A Life by Claire Tomalin (biography, 338 pages with notes which, yes, I did read)

In the first biographical work on Jane Austen (Henry Austen's biographical notice published with NA and Perusasion) it was declared “of events her life was singularly barren.” Just before chapter one, Tomalin quotes William and R.A. Austen-Leigh (I'm assuming they were James-Edward's sons) contradicting their great-uncle's words, “The uneventful nature of the author's life... has been a good deal exaggerated.” Well, the fact remains that with no surviving diaries and probably scores of letters burned, it's a little hard to write a really personal biography of Austen. (Though it's hardly discouraged dozens from trying.) But Tomalin has succeeded admirably. The work is scholarly without being pedantic and warm without romanticizing. I lapped up every drop of information on her family, her neighbors and her influences, but even less fanatical Janeites will find the depiction of life in the seventeen-and-eighteen-hundreds informative.

In a way the singular barrenness of event in Jane Austen's life and letters is one of the things that makes her my heroine. Her problems were ones that can still be mine – the pain of dependency, poverty, forced moves, and friction within the family. Jane Austen wasn't a “portrait of perfection” and sources don't leave us with a lot on her character, intellectual views, or spiritual struggles (besides the vague praise afforded posthumously by her brothers.) There are few instances of her performing morally-weighty actions, like her heroines, and her letters are almost determinedly light. Yet Tomalin gives us enough of a glimpse into her character for her to be even more one of my heroines than her heroines are – her kindness to the poor and aged and special interest in servants and dependent women.

Jane Austen's family certainly had imperfections to match any in the novels, and were sometimes quite thoughtless about her feelings and needs. Yet her love for them shines through the poems and letters she sent and I think there actually is something to the statement that she had “a temper that did not require regulation”. (Paraphrased)


A Favorite Quote: On the last page I must return to Jane Austen herself. To the child, for whom books were a refuge, offering a world that sometimes made better sense than the one she had to find her way about. To the girl whose imagination took off in startling directions as she began to see the possibilities of telling stories of her own. To the energetic young woman who loved dancing and jokes, and dreamt of a husband even as she apprenticed herself to novel writing with all the force of her intelligence. To the 25-year-old who decided she did not like people and could not write anymore; and who was tempted to make a comfortable, loveless marriage, and put the temptation behind her. To the loving sister and aunt who always made time for her family even though she would sometimes have preferred to be left to think and write in peace. To the woman who befriended governesses and servants. To the published author in the glow of achievement and mastery of her art. To the dying woman with courage to resist death by writing in its very teeth. To the person who on occasion preferred to remain silent rather than cut across the views and habits of those she loved; and who kept notes of what people said about her work, to read over to herself. This is my favorite image of Jane Austen, laughing at the opinions of the world. It is lucky she had so much laughter in her; today, the volume of opinions has swelled to something so huge that they could be laughed at forever.”


Elizabeth the Queen by Alison Weir (biography, 488 pages)

I don't know exactly why I'm fascinated by Elizabeth, but this biography amply showed her many extraordinary admiral qualities, which providence indeed seemed to have given her “for such a time as this.” Yet the book provided a few laughs at Elizabeth's constant capriciousness and prevarication as she played the marriage game. Genealogical charts made me more clear on Tudor-era names I'd frequently heard. I just wish I owned it, since its many details may be too soon forgotten.


The Story of the World, Volume 1: Ancient Times From the Earliest Nomads to the Last Roman Emperor by Susan Wise Bauer (history, audiobook of 8 hours)

This is a children's history, so I probably wouldn't have read it if it weren't on audiobook. However, I don't mind hearing a few explanations of words and concepts I fully understand while making bread or exercising. While I'm a history buff, I've tended to focus on certain places and time periods (such as the Reformation, or Victorian England) so it was fascinating to hear about ancient Egypt, Greek myths, and the Roman stories behind words and phrases we still use in modern English.


Elizabeth I by Margaret George (historical novel, audiobook of 31 hours)

Beginning with the threat of the coming Armada, and focusing on only the last third of Elizabeth's reign, this might also be appropriately titled The Rise and Fall of the Earl of Essex. While I always felt distanced from the first-person narration of Elizabeth, perhaps that was intended, since royalty of Elizabeth's mettle is enigmatic. I especially enjoyed the narration of Lettice Knollys, Elizabeth's cousin and Essex's mother, juxtaposed against Elizabeth's. Lettice's character at first seemed hard and calculating, but both she and Elizabeth mellowed subtly over the course of the long novel. The book also contains enjoyable cameos of Shakespeare, Donne, Spencer and other great men of the age.


The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne (novel, 221 pages without introduction)



I looked forward to reading this novel, but didn't expect to be so exceedingly entranced by its vibrancy and power. In accordance with my sympathy for anti-heroes, I have to confess Dimmesdale is probably my favorite character. George Eliot explains it well, “That is a rare and blessed lot which some greatest men have not attained, to know ourselves guiltless before a condemning crowd... The pitiable lot is that of the man who could not call himself a martyr even though he were to persuade himself that the men who stoned him were but ugly passions incarnate – who knows that he is stoned, not for professing the Right, but for not being the man he professed to be.”


Planned Reading for May Includes:
Lady Susan
(reread)
Sense and Sensibility (reread)
Eden's Outcasts by John Matteson
Uncle Tom's Cabin


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