Emalee on Fulke Greville

Roberts, "Fulke Greville's Aesthetic Reconsidered" (Emalee Schmeidel)

In “Fulke Greville’s Aesthetic Reconsidered,” David A Roberts discusses the purpose of poetry, the two different types of poetry, and which type is better.  He also discusses which type of poetry Fulke Greville uses and why it is significant.

            Roberts argues that poetry is a way to repair nature, which was destroyed by man.  He discusses how poetry is man’s imitation of nature, and that poetry corrects the imbalance of man, and thus “poetry helps restore the primal balance of all nature, since man was the source of the fall of nature.”  Roberts is arguing that the point of poetry is to reflect nature and essentially heal it.

            Roberts then goes on to discuss the two different types of poets/poetry, “Clear spirits” and “Dull spirits”. He says that “clear spirits” also carry a negative connotation, as they are too “subjective” and “emptied of contents”.  Roberts describes the meaning of their poetry as “superficial”.  He says that nature in their eyes is “inconsistent”.  He then goes on to discuss “dull spirits”.  They are described as the complete opposite of “clear spirits”.  Roberts describes the poetry of “dull spirits” as being much more obscure than that of “clear spirits”.  He also explains that while the “clear spirits” focus on the drastic ups and downs of nature, “dull spirits” focus on the constants of nature, so they are much more moved by the power of the drastic changes in nature, thus influencing their poetry in a more powerful, genuine way. 

            Roberts then argues that Fulke Greville uses more of a “dull spirit” style, as he focuses more on what happens after the decline of nature.  He also describes Greville’s style as obscure.  However, he also argues that Greville uses both styles in a very unique way.  Greville uses a much more “clear spirit” style at the beginning, but it morphs into the “dull spirit” style as the persona in his work grows as a person and learns how to find clarity. 

            In conclusion, Roberts argues that the purpose of poetry is to imitate nature, and that there are two different styles used to achieve this purpose.  He also argues that the “dull spirit” style is better because it is more genuine than the inconsistencies of the “clear spirit”.  He ends by arguing that Greville uses both of these styles in a unique way, beginning with the “clear spirit” and ending with the “dull spirit” as Greville’s persona is enlightened. 

Remy on Whitney

Wendy Wall, "Isabella Whitney and the Female Legacy" (Remy Fisher)

In “Isabella Whitney and the Female Legacy,” Wendy Wall argues that Whitney reinforced the language of legacy that eventually became a rhetorical tradition in English literature. Women of the mid-sixteenth century faced obstacles in establishing themselves as public figures and, constrained by typical patriarchal structures within language, were archetypally utilized as corporeal metaphors within male-written prose. Yet still, as Whitney and other female authors prevailed as they produced inheritance-driven prose the tradition of Petrarchism was reintroduced to modern culture.

As death in childbirth was a common feat among women, some utilized the inevitable opportunity to publish final legacies, or wills, that relied upon the “sanctity of the final departure” (38). Acknowledging morality and the perils of childbirth, the sincerity surrounding such an event provided women leeway into publishing. Wall begins by introducing Elizabeth Brooke Joceline’s The Mothers Legacie to her Unborn Child, published in 1624. Printed posthumously, the advice book was written for her daughter in the hopes that it would substitute her living guidance after the persistent possibility of dying in childbirth. When possibilities rang true, Joceline’s grieving husband published the book and although it was taboo for a woman’s work to be published, her untimely death and maternal duties justified her exposure. Carrying the humanist vision, Wall reinstates that because a woman’s “natural” province was the home (39), women could first-handedly explain the role of nurturer. Culturally, Joceline’s publication was seen as acceptable, for she is “merely doing her duty” under fatal circumstances.

Described by Wall as an “exemplary mid-century Tudor moral advice verse” (47), Whitney published A Sweet Nosgay in 1573 that continues the trend of instructing a younger generation. Timely, the Nosgay was published around the time the state began enforcing restrictions on a woman’s ability to make a will. Her anxieties form into tropes of social contamination and she confronts the problems of social exclusion and sexual libel within her culture. For example, in Wyll, the last poem within the Nosgay, Whitney transforms the legal form into an “ironic meditation on property, power and desire” (49). The power of her fabricated will channels the doom of a soon-to-be mother fearing mortality - the anticipated crusade toward death. Opening her work on property transmission by stating, “fayneth as she would die” (49), attention is demanded due to the dramatization of an already controversial subject.

By extrapolating female associations and traditions surrounding mortality, Isabella Whitney strengthened the tradition of Petrarchism in English literature. Using the strategy of over-dramatizing death and by preserving the legacy of motherhood women writers were able to immerse themselves within the publishing world despite gendered backlash.

Wall, Wendy. "Isabella Whitney and the Female Legacy," English Literary History 58 (1991): 35-62. 

Jessica on Ratiere

Martin Ratiere, "The Unity of Sidney's Apology" (Jessica Williams)

Martin Raitiere, in his article “The Unity of Sidney’s Apology for Poetry”, argues that Sidney’s Apology for Poetry is not contradictory as some have claimed. Raitiere refers to an argument presented by O. B. Hardison, Jr. where Hardison states, “Sidney’s criterion of value seems to change drastically within the oration,” which was also pointed out by Mark Roberts. It has long been debated that Sidney “switches gears” so to speak in his Apology for Poetry which led many to believe that the piece was actually being revised but could not be finished before Sidney’s death (39). Part of Sidney’s work was written from a viewpoint of a humanistic thinker while the latter half is written in the viewpoint of a neo-classical thinker.

In the article, Martin Raitiere argues that the piece by Sidney was not revised at all and is actually a mirror to show the complexity of poetry. Raitiere says, “we can understand why the object of Sidney’s attention changes (from universal to local) precisely at the moment his “voice” or criterion of value changes (from furiously humanistic to cautiously neo-classic)” (49). This goes to show that when Sidney was switching from one theme to the next (universal to local), he switches his viewpoint from humanistic to neo-classic. This specific way in which Sidney switches between viewpoints is proof that the change of viewpoint in Apology for Poetry “does not result from superaddition or interpolation” (57). This unifies the ways in which poetry is written and perceived by the readers due to the objectivity of the writing.

It is also noteworthy that Sidney believed there to be a difference between poets. Some just tell stories while others teach lessons. Sidney believed poetry that taught lessons was of higher value and that “by few men that art can be accomplished”. He is more interested in the art itself and not the artist and is always reminding the reader of Apology of Poetry of the “distance between poetry in its general definition and all the merely local performances” (49). With Sidney’s piece, he is defending poetry and it’s nobility so that he, and others, can write poetry without being dropped in his class standing. The idea that poetry was only written as a hobby for gentlemen of a higher class is being challenged in The Apology of Poetry and feeds into the complexity of the piece as well as attempting to justify the ‘career poet’. The complex way in which Sidney is trying to normalize the idea of a career poet is reflected in the debate of how The Apology of Poetry was written by Sidney. It is made clear by Raitiere that Sidney did not begin to revise his writings before his death but was very conscientious of the way in which he was writing his argument for the nobility of poetry.

Lindsey on Helgerson

Richard Helgerson, "The New Poet Presents Himself" (Lindsey Greene)

In their article “The New Poet Presents Himself: Spenser and the Idea of a Literacy Career,” Helgerson explains the English transition from the “poet” to the “Poet,” focusing on Spenser, who in large part is the first English embodiment of the new “Poet.” For Helgerson’s purposes, “poet” refers to the traditional English poet of the time. These poets were defined as the “youth beguiled by love” (897). Poetry, for these writers, was not a career, but rather just a foolish hobby that only the young, love-struck men were entangled with. “poets” of the time would have included the likes of Sidney, Lodge, and Harington, who all spoke poorly of their own poetry and eventually matured and turned away from the craft. Spenser, however, is an example of the new “Poet.” The new Poet was, in a sense, a career poet. That is to say that poetry, was not just a hobby, but rather a career. Poetry, for the new Poet, is not a foolish endeavor; it is not necessarily an entirely private practice. For the new Poet, poetry is created with the intention and knowledge of being public. The new Poet was the contemporary realization of the Greek’s Homer, the Roman’s Vergil, the Italian’s Ariosto, etc. The Poet was self-proclaimed and relevant both to the contemporary idea of the pastoral poet, the “shepherd,” and the classic and “professed national Poet,” the “knight” (908).

The contemporary poet viewed poetry as the private endeavor. It was simply a hobby in which the individual would write the inner-most aspect of their soul, but only for the purpose of private contemplation. These poets were, in a sense, embarrassed of their work. Poetry was viewed as the foolish work of love-struck young gentlemen. While accepted by society, this type of poet was expected to grow up and out of the hobby. They would eventually move on from their love-sick verses and turn their life to public service. With poetry being a hobby, not a sustainable job, the only people who were privileged enough to carry on the hobby were those gentlemen of the higher classes. They would never risk the “major déclassement” that would accompany the new Poet (896). Spenser, however, was “a gentleman only by education” (896). He considered poor in academia and only could attend Cambridge as a sizer, or work-study/scholarship student. Unlike Sidney, Harington, and Lodge, who all would have given up their elite titles, had they taken the step necessary to become a Poet, Spenser faced no major déclassement. At least from the social graces perspective, this allowed Spenser to pursue poetry beyond the bounds that limited most gentlemen. Spenser managed to find a balance between the shepherd and knight roles, being able to both be ranked among the contemporary poets and to define “him as the unique English member of the species of professed national Poets” (908). Spenser marks an important shift in the definition of the poet, paving the way for other English Poets to pursue a literary career.

Emalee on Mirror for Magistrates

Budra, "The Mirror for Magistrates and the Politics of Readership" (Emalee Schmeidel)

In “The Mirror for Magistrates and the Politics of Readership”, Paul Budra discusses the different editors of The Mirror for Magistrates.  His argument is that the most recent editor, Richard Niccols, essentially ruined The Mirror for Magistrates.  He argues that Niccols’ intent for his edition of the work is what led to its decline. 

    Budra begins by discussing the first few editors, what they included in The Mirror for Magistrates, and how it impacted society and how well the collection sold.  The first editor, William Baldwin, included works through the War of the Roses.  The second editor, John Higgins, “filled in the period from Brut until Ceasar”. The third editor, Thomas Blennerhasset, included material from the Roman Conquest to William the Conqueror.  The fourth and last editor, Richard Niccols, included more works from that time. 

    Budra discusses the essential differences and importances of the works included by each of the editors.  The first three editors mainly included material that was old enough to not really cause any turmoil in society.  The material they included was mostly historically based.  It was far enough in the past to not cause unrest in their present day society.  While there were lessons meant to be seen in the works, the works were not about things recent enough to cause issues. 

    While the previous editors all made changes that were gradually causing a decline in the Mirror, the final editor, Richard Niccols, was really the one who caused the greatest decline, by including propaganda.  His edition was meant for the “urban reader” rather than the original audience of political authorities, but as Budra says, ultimately “was bound to alienate the citizenry”.  Budra discusses how Niccols ultimately missed the mark with his edition.  Ultimately it did not sell, even being released on 3 separate occasions. 

    Ultimately, Budra’s argument is that The Mirror for Magistrates was ultimately ruined by Niccols.  What was originally a collection meant for political authorities to read and learn history from was eventually turned into a piece of political propaganda.  Niccols took The Mirror and changed who the intended audience was, but the intended audience did not appreciate what he did with the collection.  This audience then did not purchase the collection, and led to it dying out.  As Budra said, “Niccols finally broke the Mirror”.

The Horns of Moses

The Horns of Moses

I realize that my post is supposed to aid you, my 10101 class, in your endeavors with Exodus, the somewhat crabby God of the Israelites, those very stiff-necked, hardhearted people (as that God calls them), and Moses the middleman. First, though, I thought I should talk about something else. Call it a little-known fact, More Knowledge at College.

When I was a boy, a student teacher of ours told our class that some of her schoolmates at the large state university from which she was matriculating were so rustic that they believed that Jews had horns.  Those of us with Jewish ancestry, as well as those of us whose ancestors were of a different origin, were simply appalled.  Who could be so stupid, anti-Semitic, racist?

It turns out that even the most offensive things sometimes have a neutral provenance, no matter how mistaken they might be.

I have included a collage of Renaissance sculptures depicting Moses in all his glory, horned. Michelangelo was responsible for two of these, the famous statue in the bottom left, and the less notorious depiction in the top-right corner.

This medieval illuminated manuscript pictures Moses confronting the Israelites as they worship the golden calf (Ex 32).  William de la Braile, or whoever the artist was, avoided demonstrating the overt emotions of his subjects, according to medieval artistic practice, but you'll see that this annoyed prophet is horned and his people are not.

Why, you might ask, should it be accepted that this great hero of the Bible should be so represented? The explanation might be fairly simple: mistranslation.  The Hebrew "karan" could mean either "shining" or "horned."  In the Septuagint, the Greek rendition of the Old Testament known in the Near East for centuries, the translator, perhaps the Jewish scholar Aquila, supplied the Greek word "dedoxastai," which could mean "shining" or "was glorified."

St. Jerome, who translated the Greek Bible into the conversational Latin of the early medieval world, his version known thereby as the Vulgate, thought that "cornuta," or "horned," was the most accurate rendition of "dedoxastai." His version of Exodus 34.29: "cum descenderet Moses de monte Sinai tenebat duas tabulas testimonii et ignorabat quod cornuta esse facies sua ex consortio sermonis Dei" [when Moses descended from Mount Sinai, he held two tablets of the law and was unaware that his face was horned from his encounter with God].  Since Jerome's Bible was authoritative from Late Antiquity until the Reformation, there was no room to dispute what the Church had so decreed, and it might not have occurred to the Gentile population that a horned Moses could have offended Jewish readers, or Christians who were in sympathy with their Jewish fellow citizens. 

The Authorized Version of 1611, known to most English readers as the King James Bible, reads the aforementioned verse, "And it came to pass, when Moses came down from mount Sinai with the two tables of testimony in Moses's hand, when he came down from the mount, that Moses wist not that the skin of his face shone while he talked with him." William Tyndale's translation, first encountered in print in the so-called Matthew Bible (1537) reads: "And Moses came doune from mount Sinai and the .ij. tables of witnesse in his hande, and yet he wyst not that the skynne of his face shone with beames of his comenynge with him." There are no horns here, folks. 

Incredible as it is to believe, it is also possible that Jews once believed that Moses was horned, as well. Though Christians associated horns with cuckoldry, the devil, and general bestiality, Jews in the ancient world generally did not share this frame of reference. This article from the Israeli newspaper Haaretz argues that Jerome could never have so mistranslated the Greek term, was acquainted with Jewish traditions and culture regarding virility, and was aware that a horned Moses had nothing to do with the Devil or anything else. Actually, to him, such a representation of this hero of the Bible was historically accurate and highly complimentary. 

At the same time, to return to my long-ago student teacher: this is pretty arcane information, and she represented things to us as best she could. I'm sure that the anti-Semitism she no doubt experienced has stayed with her, and I'm sorry that she had to experience it.

My interest in the Bible is historical and literary. I've always tried to verse myself in the humanity of the God of the Old Testament and that of Jesus of Nazareth in the New. We make our gods in our own image, they say. Also, the commentaries by theologians and various divines and church fathers have struck me as essential reading and of compelling interest, because often, readers knew the Bible just as much from doctrine as from the words of the Scriptures themselves. In fact, doctrine has been much more influential than the by individual Christians, as Martin Luther and William Tyndale, for instance, recommended such readers arrive at for themselves during the Reformation. For God the Father, his interventions in the lives of his people seem to some readers, even the devout, as capricious, arbitrary, personal.

The God of the Old Testament, especially in Exodus, seems angry and impatient, outraged that his miraculous work on the behalf of his people to free them from the slavery of Pharaoh in Egypt does not seem to be appreciated except by Moses. Over and over again, the Supreme Deity not only plagues the Egyptians tenfold, culminating in the killing of the firstborn, human and animal, but constantly "hardens the heart" of Pharaoh so that he refuses to "let the people" of Israel "go." Why spread suffering when it could be so easily mitigated and eased, even for the oppressive Egyptians? 

Sometimes this unexplained divine capriciousness extends to Moses himself.  In Exodus 4:22-23, God orders his servant to pass along his command to Pharaoh that unless he liberates the Israelites, the Lord will smite the Egyptians in the worst way, which turns out to be the Tenth Plague: the killing of the firstborn. Surely God already knows he will do this awful thing.  And then, complete madness seems to ensue. The next three verses read:

And it came to pass by the way in the inn, that the Lord met him, and sought to kill him. Then Zipporah took a sharp stone, and cut off the foreskin of her son, and cast it at his feet, and said, Surely a bloody husband art thou to me. So he let him go: then she said, A bloody husband thou art, because of the circumcision.  (Exodus 4:24-26, KJV)

Bible commentators are equally puzzled, though as devout and believing readers, they express their confusion reverently. (See this link for the incredible depth of commentary.) The first "him" is Moses.  Zipporah is his wife. She was not an Israelite or familiar with that culture's customs. Their son was Gershom.  Apparently, God was so angry at Moses's failure to circumcise Gershon that this rage would have turned deadly, if not for the intervention of Zipporah, who apparently did not understand or respect the covenant of circumcision, as first instituted by God with Abraham in Genesis 17.13. 

As a coda, here are two illustrations of the fabulous engravings for the Matthew Bible (1537), the text of which most scholars agree was mostly the work of the magnificent William Tyndale.  The illustrations might have been the work of Lucas Cranach the Elder, one of the great artists of the early Renaissance. The copy whose illustrations appear below comes from the University of Pennsylvania. (Here is an informative essay, if you'd like to read it.)  There is some irony at work here.  Henry VIII and Thomas More, his Lord Chancellor, despised Tyndale, his gadfly-like criticism of Henry's new church, and particularly his translation of the New Testament. It was first published in Antwerp in 1526, and mostly confiscated and burned after the surreptitious copies were discovered by the royal agents who were somehow aware that reformers would be trying to smuggle them into England. More hated Tyndale so much that even when he himself was imprisoned and under interdict and death sentence for refusing to swear to Henry's Oath of Supremacy, he still insisted that Tyndale be captured, tried, and burned at the stake, which he was, in Brabant 1536. Tyndale's last words were, it is alleged, "Lord, open the King of England's eyes!" 

Apparently, those eyes were opened.  More's successor Thomas Cromwell saw the necessity of furthering the Reformation, presided over the dissolution of the monasteries (1536-37), and pushed his sovereign into accepting and authorizing an English translation, mostly by Tyndale, with some help from others.  Henry's own production, known as the Great Bible (1539), though largely presided over by Myles Coverdale, differed very, very little from the Matthew. The title-pages were similar, though Henry added himself as a dispenser of divine wisdom.

 Here is the title-page for the Matthew New Testament, which is identical to the same page for the Old Testament.

Here is a detail from the two top corners of this multiplex engraving.  To the left and below, God the Father bestows the law on Moses, who is, as you'll see, horned. To the right, the infant Christ acts as agent of his own Annunciation to his mother-to-be, Mary, receiving the divine light. Christ carries the cross on which he will be crucified and by which he will act as lux mundi and redemptor mundi: the light and redeemer of the world.

Remy on Surrey's Aeneid

“Surrey’s Translation of the Aeneid” - O.B. Hardison (Remy Fisher)

Epic poetry has the ability to make a regular man noble. Through great triumphs and failures epic characters carry the philosophy that shapes cultures and community expectations. Noting this, Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, sought to create a vernacular English form that was equivalent to the dactylic hexameter of classical epic, while still containing unrhymed continental forms. Through prosodic analysis, Hardison claims that Surrey’s translation of Vergil’s Aeneid had intentions of introducing a level of nobility into English closely related to the esteemed beliefs of esoteric humanists. The esoteric phase of English civic humanism consisted of translating and imitating original compositions, the end goal of transforming a culture through transformed language. In order to create this genuine translation, Surrey utilized syntactical strategies that mirrored Vergil’s Latin while still remaining innovative.

Vergil’s original consists of 13 lines, is written in dactylic hexameter and has 200 syllables. Surrey’s translation is 20 lines, written in iambic pentameter and contains 210 syllables. Due to the original Aeneid being written in Latin, Surrey’s translation is considered to be written in the Latinate, where the syntactical qualities of Latin are utilized in a different language and allowed him flexibility in sentence structure. For example, Emrys Jones claims that because of Surrey’s “consistency with the idiom of an uninflected language” (247) allowed him to produce structural units within phrases or clauses rather than a line. Latinate combined with enjambment created units different from and often larger than the pentameter line. The meter is generally regular, yet contain substitutions, seemingly only for artistic purpose. Much like the rocky road of a hero’s journey, Surrey’s irregularity helped create a consistent play, counterpoint, of metrical accent against syntactical accent.

Surrey drew from both Sir Thomas Wyatt and his predecessor Gavin Douglas as inspiration for his desire to create a new vernacular using blank verse. Wyatt was interested in domesticating “sophisticated continental forms” into English by using the Petrarchan sonnet, which contains fourteen lines of poetry, an octave and a sestet. He also applied the terza rima, which consists of interlocking three-line rhyme schemes of ABA, BCB, CDC, etc. This technique, at the time, was considered “considerably more modern” – in the sense of being regular (239). Contrastingly, Hardison states that it is “clear” Surrey drew off of Douglas. Although Douglas’ style is “clumsy,” and “familiar,” both qualities can be argued to have propelled Surrey to explore the format of blank verse. Rather than continuing or renewing a tradition, Surrey is committed to improving English by introducing new artistic forms – only partly to renovate the language. He wanted the language to be a “vehicle of values typical of other superior cultures, both ancient and modern,” because to improve the vernacular the ensuing culture is likely to elevate as well. By branching ideas off of the diverse Wyatt and Douglas - regarding both form and prose, Surrey was able to create a unique and well-rounded piece of art.

Hardison asserts that heroic poetry is “not only a civilizing force, it is the most powerful civilizing force that language offers” (241). In light of Tudor esoteric humanism Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, translated Vergil’s Aeneid and subsequently introduced a level of nobleness into English closely related to the respected beliefs of esoteric humanists. Through the use of Latinate and by applying the strategies of Wyatt and Douglas, Surrey created a language of English that drove sophisticated culture.

Bibliography

Hardison, O. B. (n.d.). Tudor Humanism and Surrey's Translation of the Aeneid.