tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post8182409715415035285..comments2024-01-28T03:56:39.351-08:00Comments on TOM CLARK: Robert Herrick: In the West (His Lachrimae or Mirth, turn'd to mourning)Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-17806807704051537782012-05-28T17:38:41.040-07:002012-05-28T17:38:41.040-07:00And here we are, then, forever, making the best of...And here we are, then, forever, making the best of it. Perhaps some better than others.TChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05915822857461178942noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-11344579489190969342012-05-28T10:55:46.987-07:002012-05-28T10:55:46.987-07:00Tom,
Such a sweet Herrick lyric, so timely to fin...Tom,<br /><br />Such a sweet Herrick lyric, so timely to find it here today (Memorial Day), cheering us back to a bit of mirth from our "banishment Into the loathed West"<br /><br />5.26<br /><br />black of night sky above plane of black <br />ridge, black shape of black pine branch<br />in foreground, sound of wave in channel<br /><br /> relate to other color, same<br /> material as the image<br /><br /> shadow, points to something<br /> else, that this is so<br /><br />sunlit white clouds in blue above ridge,<br />line of 4 pelicans gliding toward pointSTEPHEN RATCLIFFEhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12339481653546188412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-245326395392567882012-05-26T10:36:40.719-07:002012-05-26T10:36:40.719-07:00Herrick learnt poetry in the circle of Ben Jonson,...Herrick learnt poetry in the circle of Ben Jonson, in which much was flowing, but little of it tears.<br /><br />Here's his lovely little "prayer" to his lyric mentor, Ben, invoking the "old religion" (of the poets) and charmingly offering Ben the bribe of a private canonization. The wit and delicacy not only rival but outdo the master.<br /><br />When I a Verse shall make,<br />Know I have praid thee,<br />For old Religions sake,<br />Saint Ben to aid me.<br /><br />Make the way smooth for me,<br />When I, thy Herrick,<br />Honouring thee, on my knee<br />Offer my Lyrick.<br /><br />Candles Ile give to thee,<br />And a new Altar;<br />And thou Saint Ben, shalt be<br />Writ in my Psalter.<br /><br />After his time in London Herrick went off to be a country parson in rocky and uncouth Devon, a place for which he seems to have harboured a curious mix of emotions. The effects of the Civil War were certainly felt.<br /><br />He published all his poems in one go, in Hesperides (1648), with no particular order in the section containing the secular poems; so that there are mysteries as to date of composition.<br /><br />But this poem would appear to date from the 1630s/1640s.<br /><br />And I would agree with Hazen that however lachrymose the sentiments, Herrick always allows a bit of a smile to play around the corners of his expression. The playfulness, like the musicality, remains so close to the heart of the poetry of "this pure, flowing genius" as to be inseparable from it.<br /><br />For over a half century now I have found it helpful to return to that exemplary ability of his to smile at himself in any weather.<br /><br />A calmative.<br /><br />By the by, Nin, as Herrick has so very many kiss poems, I can't for the life of me guess which one you might be referring to as loathsome.<br /><br />Hmm, let's see.<br /><br />A Kisse<br /><br />What is a kisse? Why this, as some approve;<br />The sure sweet-Sement, Glue, and Lime of Love.<br /><br />Or perhaps...<br /><br />Kisses<br /><br />Give me the food that satisfies a Guest;<br />Kisses are but dry banquets to a Feast.<br /><br />So what'll it be, then, sticky or dry?TChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05915822857461178942noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-39262291882132614362012-05-26T09:56:29.858-07:002012-05-26T09:56:29.858-07:00And I am still stuck on kisses and think of Herric...And I am still stuck on kisses and think of Herrick--he has the loathsome kiss poem. Beautiful images.<br /> Thanks for the Kafka stories. I always liked that little tiny one about an odradek, too. I think that's what it was called--and the bucket rider and the hunger artist. <br /><br />I am always torn in writing btw writing the world and writing the underworld. Writing one leads to the other, of course, but it's a question I ask, going from one to the other.Nin Andrewshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12643167108589844026noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-31157173334455670042012-05-26T08:23:39.426-07:002012-05-26T08:23:39.426-07:00The upper photo strikes me as perhaps the suicide&...The upper photo strikes me as perhaps the suicide's own last glimpse of her, refracted in a dropConrad DiDiodatohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18312831623791642286noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-11794081808126505162012-05-26T08:11:12.983-07:002012-05-26T08:11:12.983-07:00How can anyone ever forget “that liquefaction of h...How can anyone ever forget “that liquefaction of her clothes”? Or all those other perfect poems by this pure, flowing genius?vazambam (Vassilis Zambaras)https://www.blogger.com/profile/14515165428574974933noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-64274941759314992492012-05-26T07:51:26.533-07:002012-05-26T07:51:26.533-07:00Tomas, it’s the rhythm of Herrick’s poem that soot...Tomas, it’s the rhythm of Herrick’s poem that soothes the troubled breast this morning, however lachrymose the meaning of his words. The two work off each other, setting up an odd but satisfying kind of tension for the eye and ear. Maybe this is Herrick’s clear and cold-eyed assessment of himself in time and space, where we all are. He's even smiling a bit at it all.Hazenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13417573435195561519noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4445844569294316288.post-68394621079172231092012-05-26T06:55:08.558-07:002012-05-26T06:55:08.558-07:00The poet Herrick came from a line of ingenious art...The poet Herrick came from a line of ingenious artisans. His father was a goldsmith and possibly also fiddled a bit with the dark arts of alchemy. A later descendant of the clan designed the Golden Gate Bridge, a little known fact that is celebrated with the upper photo here, today, on the 75th anniversary of the opening of the Bridge, which is allegedly still there, though with the clouds and raindrops obscuring things, that would be difficult to corroborate from here.<br /><br />Also by the brilliant Robin Herrick, and definitely still here:<br /><br /><a href="http://tomclarkblog.blogspot.com/2010/04/robert-herrick-silks.html" rel="nofollow">Robert Herrick: Silks</a><br><br /><a href="http://tomclarkblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/robert-herrick-comming-of-good-luck.html" rel="nofollow">Robert Herrick: The comming of good luck</a><br><br /><a href="http://tomclarkblog.blogspot.com/2010/08/robert-herrick-life-is-bodies-light.html" rel="nofollow">Robert Herrick: Life is the Bodies Light</a><br><br /><a href="http://tomclarkblog.blogspot.com/2012/04/robert-herrick-her-legs.html" rel="nofollow">Robert Herrick: Her Legs</a><br>TChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05915822857461178942noreply@blogger.com