November 28, 2005
Happy Birthday, William Blake!
He may be one of my favorite poets, and I have to thank the doppelganger for introducing me to him. Or - I should say - RE-introducing me to him. I know I read "The Chimney Sweep" in the poetry survey class I took in college - but it wasn't until after the conversation he and I had about Blake at the infamous party where we first met - that I thought: "Hmmm. Need to give Blake another look." I am SO glad I did!!! What a poet!!
Fascinating man as well.
He was a poet (virtually unknown in his own lifetime), and also an engraver (I've put some of his startling work in the extended entry - but if you want to see more of his work, check out this link.) He did illustrations for children's books, religious books, volumes of poetry ... and now his stuff is considered pretty much priceless.
William Blake was born in 1757 in London - the third of five children. He went to school until he was 14 - and then had to go to work. He got a job as an apprentice to an engraver - which is how he ended up making his paltry living. He lived in pretty much poverty for his entire life. He married at 25 - to the illiterate Catherine Boucher. Blake taught her how to read, and they ended up becoming collaborators in bringing out volumes of his poetry. He did engravings to illustrate his poems. Catherine was the one who bound the books, and got them ready for publication. The entire thing was a joint production - they did all the work themselves.
The two of them never had any children. They were extremely unconventional, shall we say - and visitors tell of stopping by the Blake house to find the two of them sitting out in their back garden completely naked. Just hanging out, reading, working together - NUDE. No shame. They had a whole philosophy about nakedness, and sex, and innocence - that there was nothing dirty about any of that stuff. It was human prudery that made celebration of the body a dirty thing. But still - some of the tales told about Blake are hysterical. I would have LOVED to meet the guy. He sounds amazing.
William Blake had visions. He speaks about them openly and much of his work has a phantasmagorical religious feeling to it. When he was a young boy, he said he looked up into a tree and saw that it was full of winged angels. He would get visions of Gabriel, the Virgin Mary, yadda yadda.
His view of God, the Spirit, the Holy Trinity, what have you - is so inspiring to me. It's vital, it's alive, and it seems to be all about love. There's not too many people I would call "genius" - but Blake I most certainly would. On the edge of sanity? Sure. Whatever. Many geniuses are.
However - again - William Blake, despite these astonishing works of poetry he put out during his lifetime - died unrecognized.
Now, though, he is considered to be one of the greatest poets in the English language. If you haven't encountered William Blake's stuff, I highly recommend you giving it a look. It's not the EASIEST poetry to get into - but God, every single page is chock-full of so much ... you can't believe that it came from only one man.
His poem about the little lisping chimney-sweep is in the "canon" - If you took any kind of sweeping Poetry 101 course, you probably would have encountered it. I'll post it below. But it's really his long form poems, especially the SPECTACULAR "Marriage of Heaven and Hell", where the guy literally has no equal. None. Blake has no peers.
Here's the one about the chimney sweep, which is - in its own way - an indictment of the society in which he lives - a society that treats its most innocent members in such a horrible way.
"The Chimney Sweep" - from Songs of Innocence
When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry 'weep! 'weep! 'weep! 'weep!
So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,
That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved: so I said,
"Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when your head's bare,
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair."
And so he was quiet; and that very night,
As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight, -
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,
Were all of them locked up in coffins of black.
And by came an angel who had a bright key,
And he opened the coffins and set them all free;
Then down a green plain leaping, laughing, they run,
And wash in a river, and shine in the sun.
Then naked and white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds and sport in the wind;
And the angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy,
He'd have God for his father, and never want joy.
And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark,
And got with our bags and our brushes to work.
Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm;
So if all do their duty they need not fear harm.
And here ... for those of you who are interested ... is "Marriage of Heaven and Hell" in its entirety (accompanied by more of Blake's engravings).
Just go with it. Just succumb.
As you can see, the guy was so ahead of his time that he is timeless. He predicts the Beat generation, he predicts modernism, he would fit in with the poetry slams of today (except that he is, well, you know - GOOD) ... He was a man who plumbed his unconscious for material. He brought what was within him - OUT. His poetry is the literary version of Van Gogh's Starry Night. Van Gogh was not interpreting the sky. That was actually how Van Gogh saw the stars. Get into Van Gogh's world. See the world through HIS eyes. William Blake is the same way.
I think my favorite line from William Blake is:
The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the crow.
I have reminded myself of those lines from time to time, when I am surrounded by mediocrity. Mediocrity that wants to bring you down. Wants you to be mediocre as well, so that you won't make anyone feel bad.
Yup. I'm a snob. I plan on being an eagle and I will no longer submit to learn from crows. Don't waste my time.
Thanks, Blake! Wish I could have visited you and your wife in your back garden, and sat around with you all, nude, drinking tea, and talking about angels.
Happy birthday!
Engravings below:
Christ in the sepulcher guarded by angels - 1805
Whirlwind of Lovers (Illustration to Dante's Inferno)
The Ancient of Days - 1794
Sheila, I love Blake too. You can match up at least some of the poems from Songs of Innocence with poems from Songs of Experience. It's as though the Songs of Innocence are a child's attempt to look at the world as a benign place, and the Songs of Experience just can't keep up the illusion. Here's the other version of his chimney sweep:
The Chimney Sweep from Songs of Experience
A little black thing among the snow,
Crying "'weep! 'weep!" in notes of woe!
"Where are thy father & mother? say?"
"They are both gone up to the church to pray.
"Because I was happy upon the heath,
And smil'd among the winter's snow,
They clothed me in the clothes of death,
And taught me to sing the notes of woe.
"And because I am happy & dance & sing,
They think they have done me no injury,
And are gone to praise God & his Priest & King,
Who make up a heaven of our misery."
-----------
I posted briefly about "The Lamb" and "The Tyger" here.
Posted by: Laura(southernxyl) at November 28, 2005 1:18 PMOh, right! Yes - there were two versions. Amazing. Thank you so much for that!
The whole double entendre of "weep, weep, weep ..."
The child is still young enough to not be able to pronounce "sweep" properly - and yet he is old enough to take a dangerous job that will kill him way too soon. And so, of course, instead of him crying out "sweep sweep sweep", it comes out: "weep, weep, weep ..."
Blake's sorrow for the plight of children in that society.
Posted by: red at November 28, 2005 1:21 PM"'The path of excess leads to the palace of wisdom', William Blake."
"William Blake?"
"William Blake!"
Name that movie
Posted by: JFH at November 28, 2005 1:37 PMBull Durham! Whoo-hoo!!!
Of course Annie would love William Blake. hahaha Makes perfect sense!!
Posted by: red at November 28, 2005 1:41 PMWhen I was in college, our chorus did "And did those feet" -- not the version heard in Four Weddings and a Funeral, but a choral rendition, probably by Randall Thompson. Other than "tyger tyger", it's the only Blake I've ever heard of.
Posted by: Lisa at November 28, 2005 1:53 PMHey, Sheil - do you remember the William blake poem i wrote? I mean, he was in it. I'll send it to you.
Posted by: jean at November 28, 2005 2:02 PMHe wrote "Tyger, Tyger"?! Geez, I didn't know I knew any Blake besides Annie Savoy's quote. The only reason I can remember that poem is that it's the classic example of of a half-rhyme using the words "eye" and "symmetry" (Dang, filling my mind with poetry rather than important information like math and science formulas and, uh, movie quotes).
I remember asking my English teacher how did she KNOW that Blake intended it to be a half-rhyme rather than pronouncing the word "sem-me-tri"? She didn't have an answer...
Posted by: JFH at November 28, 2005 2:10 PMI have such a love/hate mild dislike thing for Blake. I'm ambivalent about romanticism, of which he's the poster-boy...
...and yet he's so great!
I love Ozymandias; one of my favorites.
Posted by: mitch at November 28, 2005 2:42 PM"Hate" was supposed to have a strike-through...
...oh, blah.
Posted by: mitch at November 28, 2005 2:46 PMI love Ozymandias as well - but that's by Shelley.
Posted by: red at November 28, 2005 2:46 PMI don't really see Blake as a poster-boy - Shelley most certainly was (and I think he might have wanted it that way!! - he was into that whole Romantic poet cult of personality thing, if I'm remembering correctly) But Blake seems to be quite an original.
Posted by: red at November 28, 2005 2:47 PMPersonal favourite, from Songs of Experience -
A Poison Tree
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright,
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole,
When the night had veiled the pole.
In the morning, glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
--
Thames and Hudson published William Blake: The Complete Illuminated Books a few years ago.. it's a pricey but beautiful volume.. and Illuminated Books is what they are.. as some of the above links show - the Songs of for example - every single page is chock-full of so much. Totally, Sheila.
and his image of Newton.. ouch!
Happy Birthday, William!
Posted by: peteb at November 28, 2005 3:10 PMHolds head in hands in mute despair.
I can't believe I just mixed up Blake and Shelley.
Buries head in hands
I still need coffee.
Carry on.
Posted by: mitch at November 28, 2005 3:35 PMMitch - hahahaha No despair!! Stop the despair!
Posted by: red at November 28, 2005 3:49 PMMitch,
Actually, it's really fascinating to me that you mixed up Blake and Shelley, because as different as they are in terms of surface style, they end up being surprisingly similar in their ultimate poetic doctrines. The surface differences probably cause a lot of readers to miss that.
Posted by: Bryan at November 28, 2005 4:07 PMDoesn't Ozymandius end with the word "despair"?
I remember some guy right after 9/11 painted that poem on the side of his building - or went around putting snippets of it up in grafitti - It was a message to the terrorists. "Look out - we're bad-asses, and here we come!"
Methinks he missed the entire damn point of the poem!!!!
Indeed he did. Sheesh!
The poem ends as follows:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
"The Tiger" is my favorite poem. The rotating subheader for my site used to say: What immortal hand or eye could frame thy fearful symmetry? BIATCH!
Well, I thought it was funny.
Posted by: Cullen at November 28, 2005 4:14 PMHarold Bloom remarks that on 9/11 the lines from Tennyson's "Ulysses" came to his memory:
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in the old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal-temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Yeah, like: dude, I appreciate the sentiment but you better find another poem to make your point. Ozymandius is about how empires DO NOT LAST.
I think he just read the "Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair" and thought: "oooh, that sounds kind of bad-ass - let's tell the terrorists THAT."
Yeah, well it's not so bad-ass when it's an inscription on a forgotten statue half-buried in the sand - a relic from an empire long dead.
heh heh
Posted by: red at November 28, 2005 4:16 PMBryan - oh that Tennyson is marvelous. Yes. That's much more appropriate.
Posted by: red at November 28, 2005 4:17 PMOK, no more despair. Whew.
Bryan - you are correct; my college English prof - a huge fan of Keats and Blake (his last name, actually, was Blake) twigged me to the underlying similarities, and my short attention span reinforced it!
The drummer for one of my old bands - a crazy guy from a huge Irish family that had dropped out of high school but was the best-read person I ever knew - had us do a song that he said was based on "The Tiger" once upon a time. Apropos not much, but it was a fun song...
(He's actually someone I think you'd hit it off with famously, Red; next time you're in the Cities, I'll make sure the three of us get together!)
Posted by: mitch at November 28, 2005 5:42 PMI love him already.
Posted by: red at November 28, 2005 5:46 PMMitch,
Actually, I think I've heard of such a song. Do you recall the title?
Camille Paglia asserts, and I suspect she's right, that "Jumping Jack Flash" was inspired by Blake's "The Mental Traveller".
Posted by: Bryan at November 28, 2005 8:49 PMPaglia's essays on Blake are fantastic. Bryan - have you read Break, Blow, Burn? I'm slowly making my way through it - there's a bunch of stuff on Blake in there.
Come to think of it - Ozymandius is in there as well!!
I'm now on the William Carlos Williams poems.
Posted by: red at November 29, 2005 12:00 AMSheila,
Yes, I have read "Break, Blow, Burn" and admired it quite a bit.
When I first read her chapter on Blake in "Sexual Personae" it made me fairly uncomfortable because for me Blake is a "navi", a Hebrew prophet speaking great spiritual truths. Paglia's emphasis on the inconsistency of Blake's sexual personae made me feel that a very great man was being reductively treated. On the other hand, it would be idle for me to deny that she is on to something real and important in that essay, as much as it made me squirm.
Bryan - hahaha A lot of Sexual Personae made me squirm. Not sure why - but it did. I think her essay on Rosalind in As You Like It is the best thing in it. I read it over and over again.
I know what you mean - sometimes literary criticism in general makes me squirm. Because it does attempt to "reduce" these geniuses ... it's like picking apart something that is precious.
Posted by: red at November 29, 2005 6:41 AM