TYBA Project
TYBA Project
B. A. T. Y. (MAIN),
UNDER THE GUIDANCE OF
Department of English
One of the giants of 20th century British poetry, Ted Hughes was
born in Mytholmroyd, Yorkshire in 1930. After serving as in the Royal
Air Force, Hughes attended Cambridge, where he studied archeology
and anthropology, taking a special interest in myths and legends. In
1956 he met and married the American poet Sylvia Plath, who
encouraged him to submit his manuscript to a first book contest run
by The Poetry Center. Awarded first prize by judges Marianne
Moore, W.H. Auden, and Stephen Spender, The Hawk in the
Rain (1957) secured Hughes’s reputation as a poet of international
status. According to poet and critic Robert B. Shaw, “Hughes’s poetry
signaled a dramatic departure from the prevailing modes of the
period. The stereotypical poem of the time was determined not to
risk too much: politely domestic in its subject matter, understated
and mildly ironic in style. By contrast, Hughes marshaled a language
of nearly Shakespearean resonance to explore themes which were
mythic and elemental. ” Hughes’s long career included
unprecedented best-selling volumes such
as Lupercal (1960), Crow (1970), Selected Poems 1957-1981 (1982),
and The Birthday Letters (1998), as well as many beloved children’s
books, including The Iron Man (1968). With Seamus Heaney, he
edited the popular anthologies The Rattle Bag (1982) and The School
Bag (1997). Named executor of Plath’s literary estate, he edited
several volumes of her work. Hughes also translated works from
Classical authors, including Ovid and Aeschylus. An incredibly prolific
poet, translator, editor, and children’s book author, Hughes was
appointed Poet Laureate in 1984, a post he held until his death.
Among his many awards, he was appointed to the Order of Merit,
one of Britain’s highest honors.
The rural landscape of Hughes’s youth in Yorkshire exerted a
lasting influence on his work. To read Hughes’s poetry is to enter a
world dominated by nature, especially by animals.
This holds true for nearly all of his books, from The Hawk in the
Rain to Wolfwatching (1989) and Moortown Diary (1989), two of his
late collections. Hughes’s love of animals was one of the catalysts in
his decision to become a poet.
According to London Times contributor Thomas Nye, Hughes once
confessed “that he began writing poems in adolescence, when it
dawned upon him that his earlier passion for hunting animals in his
native Yorkshire ended either in the possession of a dead animal, or
at best a trapped one. He wanted to capture not just live animals, but
the aliveness of animals in their natural state: their wildness, their
quiddity, the fox-ness of the fox and the crow-ness of the crow.”
However, Hughes’s interest in animals was generally less
naturalistic than symbolic. Using figures such as “Crow” to
approximate a mythic everyman, Hughes’s work speaks to his
concern with poetry’s vatic, even shamanic powers. Working in
sequences and lists, Hughes frequently uncovered a kind of
autochthonous, yet literary, English language.
According to Peter Davison in the New York Times, “While
inhabiting the bodies of creatures, mostly male, Hughes clambers
back down the evolutionary chain. He searches deep into the riddles
of language, too, those that precede any given tongue, language that
reeks of the forest or even the jungle. Such poems often contain a
touch—or more than a touch—of melodrama, of the brutal tragedies
of Seneca that Hughes adapted for the modern stage.”
Hughes’s posthumous publications include Selected Poems 1957-
1994 (2002), an updated and expanded version of the original 1982
edition, and Letters of Ted Hughes (2008), which were edited by
Christopher Reid and showcase Hughes’s voluminous
correspondence.
According to David Orr in the New York Times, Hughes’s “letters are
immediately interesting and accessible to third parties to whom they
aren’t addressed… Hughes can turn out a memorable description
(biographies of Plath are ‘a perpetual smoldering in the cellar for us.
There’s always one or two smoking away’), and his offhand
observations about poetry can be startlingly perceptive.” The
publication of Hughes’s Collected Poems (2003) provided new insights
into Hughes’s writing process. Sean O’Brien in the Guardian noted,
“Hughes conducted more than one life as a poet.” Publishing both
single volumes with Faber, Hughes also released a huge amount of
work through small presses and magazines.
These poems were frequently not collected, and it seems
Hughes thought of his small-press efforts as experiments to see if the
poems deserved placement in collections. O’Brien continued: “Clearly
[Hughes] needed to be writing all the time, and many of the hitherto
uncollected poems have the provisional air of resting for a moment
before being taken to completion—except that half the time
completion didn't occur and wasn't even the issue… as far as the
complete body of work went, Hughes seems to have been more
interested in process than outcome.”
You start to see the world through the other person’s eyes. To
give a trivial example, I met my wife in Aberdeen, her home town,
where my Yorkshire accent was an oddity and she was at home in a
linguistic world made up of Scots and Gaelic. The first time she visited
my home, I vividly remember her panic in Leeds, suddenly
surrounded for the first time in her life by Yorkshire accents –
suddenly she was the odd one out in a big city, her voice was the
strange voice.Now imagine that sort of thing in every aspect of
life.Then add another huge layer of complexity because Plath was not
just another person, she was also one of the most gifted poets in
English of the last century. She saw the world strangely, but with
incredible acuity (as an owl’s eyes are sensitive to even very low
levels of light, if you like). But Hughes isn’t just seeing the world now
through Plath’s astonishing eyes – he’s seeing it through her
children’s eyes, Frieda and Nick, and Sylvia is dead.
The shock that poems like this caused when first published was
intensified by the style, epitomised by phrases like ‘stuffed into man
the tail half’, which Hughes at the time described as a ‘super-simple,
super-ugly language’. He seemed to be assaulting religion and poetry
simultaneously. By adopting this narrative style Hughes implicitly
identifies himself with his protagonist. At the core of Crow is a group
of poems, including this one, which re-accent the story of the
Creation, the Fall (‘Apple Tragedy’), the Crucifixion (‘Crow Blacker
than Ever’).
T.S. Eliot, the 1948 winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature, is one of
the giants of modern literature, highly distinguished as a poet,
literary critic, dramatist, and editor and publisher.
In 1910 and 1911, while still a college student, he wrote “The Love
Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” and other poems that are landmarks in the
history of literature. In these college poems, Eliot articulated
distinctly modern themes is in forms that were both a striking
development of and a marked departure from those of 19th-century
poetry.Within a few years he had composed another landmark poem,
“Gerontion” (1920), and within a decade, one of the most famous
and influential poems of the century, The Waste Land (1922). While
the origins of The Waste Land are in part personal, the voices
projected are universal. Eliot later denied that he had large cultural
problems in mind, but, nevertheless, in The Waste Land he diagnosed
the malaise of his generation and indeed of Western civilization in
the 20th century.Eliot is also an important figure in 20th-century
drama. He was inclined from the first toward the theater-his early
poems are essentially dramatic, and many of his early essays and
reviews are on drama or dramatists. By the mid 1920s he was writing
a play, Sweeney Agonistes (published in 1932, performed in 1933); in
the 1930s he wrote an ecclesiastical pageant, The Rock (performed
and published in 1934), and two full-blown plays, Murder in the
Cathedral (performed and published in 1935) and The Family
Reunion (performed and published in 1939); and in the late 1940s
and the 1950s he devoted himself almost exclusively to plays, of
which The Cocktail Party (performed in 1949, published in 1950) has
been the most popular. His goal, realized only in part, was the
revitalization of poetic drama in terms that would be consistent with
the modern age. He experimented with language that, though close
to contemporary speech, is essentially poetic and thus capable of
spiritual, emotional, and intellectual resonance. His work has
influenced several important 20th-century playwrights,
including W.H. Auden and Harold Pinter. Eliot also made significant
contributions as an editor and publisher. From 1922 to 1939 he was
the editor of a major intellectual journal, The Criterion, and from
1925 to 1965 he was an editor/director in the publishing house of
Faber and Faber. In both capacities he worked behind the scenes to
nurture the intellectual and spiritual life of his times.
Thomas Stearns Eliot was born on September 26, 1888 in St. Louis,
Missouri; he was the second son and seventh child of Charlotte
Champe Stearns and Henry Ware Eliot, members of a distinguished
Massachusetts family recently transplanted to Missouri. Eliot’s family
tree includes settlers of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, prominent
clergymen and educators, a president of Harvard University (Charles
William Eliot), and three presidents of the United States (John
Adams, John Quincy Adams, and Rutherford B. Hayes). In 1834 the
poet’s grandfather, William Greenleaf Eliot, a graduate of Harvard
Divinity School, moved to St. Louis to establish a Unitarian mission.
He quickly became a leader in civic development, founding the first
Unitarian Church, Washington University (which he served as
president), Smith Academy, and Mary Institute.
The Eliot family lived in downtown St. Louis, not far from the
Mississippi River, and the poet spent his formative years in a large
house (no longer standing) at 2635 Locust Street. His family
summered in New England, and in 1897 Henry Ware Eliot built a
house near the sea at Gloucester, Massachusetts. The summers in
this spacious house on Cape Ann provided the poet with his happiest
memories, which he tapped through the years for poems such as
“Marina” (1930) and The Dry Salvages.
From these few facts, several points emerge as relevant to Eliot’s
mind and art. First, feeling that “the U.S.A. up to a hundred years ago
was a family extension” (as he wrote in a 1928 letter to Herbert
Read), Eliot became acutely conscious of history—his own, that of his
family, his country, his civilization, his race—and of the ways in which
the past constantly impinges on the present and the present on the
future. Second, despite the fact that Eliot was blessed with a happy
childhood in a loving family, he was early possessed by a sense of
homelessness. In 1928, just after he had changed his religion from
Unitarian to Anglican and his citizenship from American to British, he
summed up the result of these formative years in Missouri and
Massachusetts, describing himself in a letter to Read as “an American
who ... was born in the South and went to school in New England as a
small boy with a nigger drawl, but who wasn’t a southerner in the
South because his people were northerners in a border state ... and
who so was never anything anywhere.” As he had written to his
brother, Henry, in 1919, a few years after settling in London, “one
remains always a foreigner.” Third, Eliot had an urban imagination,
the shape and content of which came from his childhood experience
in St. Louis. In a 1930 letter quoted in an appendix to American
Literature and the American Language (1953), he said that “St. Louis
affected me more deeply than any other environment has done.”
Several of his signature images—city streets and city slums, city rivers
and city skies—were etched on his mind in St. Louis. City scenes, even
sordid ones, as he suggested in a 1914 letter to Conrad Aiken, helped
him to feel alive, alert, and self-conscious.
Eliot was educated at Smith Academy in St. Louis (1898-1905), Milton
Academy in Massachusetts (1905-1906), Harvard University (B.A.,
June 1909; M.A., February 1911; Ph.D. courses, October 1911-May
1914), University of Paris-Sorbonne (October 1910-June 1911), and
Merton College, Oxford University (October 1914-May 1915). He
devoted a further year (1915-1916) to a doctoral dissertation on the
philosophy of F.H. Bradley, eventually published in 1964.
As an undergraduate at Harvard, Eliot emphasized language and
literature—Latin, Greek, German, and French. Perhaps the most far-
reaching consequence of his undergraduate career was his accidental
discovery in December 1908 of Arthur Symons’s Symbolist Movement
in Literature (1899), a book that he claimed had changed the course
of his life. First, Symons introduced him to the poetry of Jules
Laforgue and Charles Baudelaire. From Laforgue, Eliot learned how to
handle emotion in poetry, through irony and a quality of detachment
that enabled him to see himself and his own emotions essentially as
objects for analysis. From Baudelaire, he learned how to use the
sordid images of the modern city, the material “at hand,” in poetry,
and of even greater consequence, he learned something of the
nature of good and evil in modern life. Second, Symons stimulated
Eliot to take a course in French literary criticism from Irving Babbitt in
1910. Babbitt nurtured Eliot’s budding Francophilia, his dislike of
Romanticism, and his appreciation of tradition. These tastes are
evident in most of Eliot’s early literary criticism.
Arriving at Oxford in October 1914, Eliot found that most of the
British students had left for the Western Front. He had hoped to
meet Bradley, a member of Merton, but the old don was by this time
a recluse, and they never met. At the end of the academic year, he
moved to London and continued working on his dissertation, which
he finished a year later. Eliot’s immersion in contemporary
philosophy, particularly in Bradley’s idealism, had many effects, of
which two proved especially important. Positively, these materials
suggested methods of structure that he was able to put to immediate
use in his postwar poems. Negatively, his work in philosophy
convinced him that the most sophisticated answers to the cultural
and spiritual crisis of his time were inadequate. This conclusion
contributed to his decision to abandon the professorial career for
which his excellent education had prepared him and instead to
continue literary pursuits.
Eliot’s career as a poet can be divided into three periods—the first
coinciding with his studies in Boston and Paris and culminating in
“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” in 1911; the second coinciding
with World War I and with the financial and marital stress of his early
years in London, and culminating in The Waste Land in 1922; and the
third coinciding with his angst at the economic depression and the
rise of Nazism and culminating in the wartime Four Quartets in 1943.
The poems of the first period were preceded only by a few exercises,
published in school magazines, but in 1910 and 1911 he wrote four
poems: “Portrait of a Lady,” “Preludes,” “Rhapsody on a Windy
Night,” and “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”—that introduce
themes to which, with variation and development, Eliot returned
time and again. One of the most significant is the problem of
isolation, with attention to its causes and consequences in the
contemporary world. In “Portrait of a Lady” a man and woman meet,
but the man is inarticulate, imprisoned in thought. In this ironic
dramatization of a “conversation galante,” the woman speaks
without thinking and the man thinks without speaking (a structure to
be repeated in “A Game of Chess” in The Waste Land).
Between the poems of 1910-1911 and The Waste Land, Eliot lived
through several experiences that are crucial in understanding his
development as a poet. His decision to put down roots, or to discover
roots, in Europe stands, together with his first marriage and his
conversion, as the most important of his entire life. Eliot had been
preceded in London by his Harvard friend Aiken, who had met Ezra
Pound and showed him a copy of “The Love Song of J. Alfred
Prufrock.” Eliot called on Pound on September 22, 1914, and Pound
immediately adopted him as a cause, promoting his poetry and
introducing him to William Butler Yeats and other artists. In 1915, at
a time when Eliot was close to giving up on poetry, Pound arranged
for the publication of “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”
in Poetry magazine, and in 1917 he facilitated the publication
of Prufrock and Other Observations. Pound continued to play a
central role in Eliot’s life and work through the early 1920s. He
influenced the form and content of Eliot’s next group of poems, the
quatrains in Poems (1919), and more famously, he changed the shape
of The Waste Land by urging Eliot to cut several long passages.
The impact of Pound, however, pales beside that of Vivienne (or
Vivien) Haigh-Wood, the pretty English governess Eliot married in
1915. In an April 24 letter to Hinkley describing his social life at
Oxford, Eliot mentioned that he had met an English girl named
Vivien. Pound, as part of his strategy for keeping Eliot in England,
encouraged him to marry her, and on June 26, without notifying his
parents, he did so at the Hampstead Registry Office. However
lovingly begun, the marriage was in most respects a disaster. In the
1960s, in a private paper, Eliot admitted that it was doomed from the
start: “I think that all I wanted of Vivienne was a flirtation or a mild
affair: I was too shy and unpractised to achieve either ... I came to
persuade myself that I was in love with her simply because I wanted
to burn my boats and commit myself to staying in England. And she
persuaded herself (also under the influence of Pound) that she would
save the poet by keeping him in England.” The odd nature of this
misalliance was immediately evident to Eliot’s friends, including
Russell, Mary Hutchinson, and Virginia Woolf. Vivienne Eliot, who had
suffered from “nerves” for years, became irrecoverably ill after the
marriage, and Eliot, himself in fragile health, felt partially responsible
for her deterioration.
Eliot had arrived in England the month that World War I began.
Like his European friends, he was deeply disturbed by unfolding
events and desperately worried about acquaintances on the
battlefield. In May 1915 his close friend Jean Verdenal was killed. On
May 31, the first German bomb hit London, killing 28 people and
wounding 60. Within a week or two of this watershed event, Eliot
moved to the City (the financial district), where he remained
throughout the war. In 1916 he wrote to his brother that “The
present year has been ... the most awful nightmare of anxiety that
the mind of man could conceive.” Eliot, who loved both France and
England, tried to enlist, but his application was complicated by his
failure to pass the medical exam. By the time the war ended in
November 1918, an influenza epidemic was sweeping over the world,
claiming nearly three times as many lives as had been lost in the war.
By then both Eliots were gravely ill, and it took them years to recover
completely.
The events of these years were formative in Eliot’s life and art. First,
the precipitous marriage complicated his attitude toward sexuality
and human love. Some of the poems written during and immediately
after the war (“Sweeney Erect,” for example, and The Waste
Land) connect sexuality with violence in troubling ways. Second, the
marriage, the war, and the change of vocation generated
estrangement from America in general and from his family in
particular. His family disapproved of the marriage and the decision to
drop philosophy as a career, and because the family lived in America,
far from the bloodshed, they had a superficial idea of the suffering in
Europe. Eliot continued to brood over the fact that his dying father
believed that his son had made a mess of his life. Third, the events of
these years led to severe financial distress. To support himself and his
chronically ill wife, Eliot took a job as a teacher—in the fall of 1915 at
High Wycombe Grammar School, and throughout 1916 at Highgate
Junior School. Finding the teaching of young boys draining work, he
gave it up at the end of 1916, and in March 1917 he began work in
the Colonial and Foreign Department of Lloyds Bank. Although he
stayed with Lloyds for the next nine years, he discovered that
banking, like teaching, did not produce nearly enough income to
cover his expenses and Vivienne Eliot’s medical bills. He was thus
forced to supplement his duties as teacher, banker, and nurse to his
wife with night work as lecturer, reviewer, and essayist. Working
from 1916 to 1920 under great pressure (a 15-hour workday was
common for him), he wrote essays, published in 1920 as The Sacred
Wood, that reshaped literary history.
Eliot’s early essays can be seen as a discursive variation on the
subjects underlying the early poems; his awareness, for example, of
the problem of isolation, its causes and its consequences, is evident
in the essays. In the poems, the emphasis is on isolation of individuals
and classes from one another and on the human isolation from God.
In the literary criticism, the emphasis is on the artist in isolation, cut
off from his audience and from great artists and thinkers of both the
present and the past. In “Tradition and the Individual Talent” (1919),
Eliot attempts to cope with the isolation of the artist resulting from
the early 20th century’s massive repudiation of the past, a
repudiation that severed man’s intellectual and spiritual roots. Eliot
deals with the implications of this disaster by defining “tradition” as
an ideal structure in which the “whole of the literature of Europe
from Homer and within it the whole of the literature of his [the
artist’s] own country has a simultaneous existence and composes a
simultaneous order.” To put it more simply, he defines tradition not
as a canon but as an ongoing and fluid relationship of writers, living
and dead, within the mind and bones of the contemporary poet.
Eliot’s reaction against Romanticism, similarly, is related to the fact
that Romanticism celebrates the artist in isolation. Eliot’s notion that
modern poetry should be complex derives in part from his attempt to
overcome his isolation from his readers by forcing them to become
involved as collaborators in his poetry. He suggests that a text is a
self-sufficient object and at the same time a construct collaboratively
achieved by a reader. His account of the way a poet’s mind works by
unifying disparate phenomena is consistent with his dialectical
imagination, as is his account of literary history.
Eliot’s most significant single poem between 1911 and 1922 was
“Gerontion.” Important in itself, it also serves as a transition to The
Waste Land, to which, for thematic reasons, Eliot considered it an
appropriate prelude, and to which, until dissuaded by Pound, he
considered prefixing it. Formally, “Gerontion,” like “The Love Song of
J. Alfred Prufrock,” descends from the dramatic monologue, but it is
bolder and more comprehensive. The earlier poem is a portrait of an
individual mind, but “Gerontion” is a portrait of the Mind of Europe,
a container for fragments of history from the Battle of Thermopylae
in 480 BCE to the Treaty of Versailles in 1919. The title character, as
his name indicates, is old; born in ancient Greece, he survives as a
desiccated Socrates “waiting for rain” on the doorstep of modern
Europe. Like Prufrock, Gerontion is an intellectual, and the poem
consists of his thoughts. To order these thoughts, Eliot uses the
structural metaphor of houses within houses.
This literary device implies that people are isolated from each
other just like their body parts in the modern world and this leads to
loneliness among people. Moreover, rhyme scheme of the poem is
irregular and this can be associated with the disorder in the modern
world. Also, the number of words in a line varies, in that, some lines
such as “Do I dare / Disturb the universe” consist of just three words
while others “Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald)
brought in upon a platter,”
He suffers from not only mental but also physical weaknesses. Craig
Raine lists the reasons for Prufrock’s failure as “Prufrock feels
physically inadequate, socially disadvantaged, nervous,
romantically charged, reluctant to imperil a relationship and
physically impure. So he fails to act”. The poem finishes where it
begins since Prufrock does nothing to express himself.
For this reason, it is not exactly clear what Eliot would like to mean
as Prufrock states in the poem “It is impossible to say just what I
mean! / But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in
patterns on a screen:”. However, it can be put forward that Eliot
reflects the despair and anxiety of the people in the modern world
through the protagonist. Besides, he criticizes the 20th century
societies in which there is lack of communication among people
through Prufrock.
Historical context
During the Interregnum, England had been dominated
by Puritan literature and the intermittent presence of
official censorship (for example, Milton's Areopagitica and his later
retraction of that statement). While some of the Puritan ministers
of Oliver Cromwell wrote poetry that was elaborate and carnal (such
as Andrew Marvell's poem, "To His Coy Mistress"), such poetry was
not published. Similarly, some of the poets who published with the
Restoration produced their poetry during the Interregnum. The
official break in literary culture caused by censorship and
radically moralist standards effectively created a gap in literary
tradition. At the time of the Civil War, poetry had been dominated
by metaphysical poetry of the John Donne, George Herbert,
and Richard Lovelace sort. Drama had developed the late Elizabethan
theatre traditions and had begun to mount increasingly topical and
political plays (for example, the drama of Thomas Middleton). The
Interregnum put a stop, or at least a caesura, to these lines of
influence and allowed a seemingly fresh start for all forms of
literature after the Restoration.
The last years of the Interregnum were turbulent, as were the last
years of the Restoration period, and those who did not go into exile
were called upon to change their religious beliefs more than once.
With each religious preference came a different sort of literature,
both in prose and poetry (the theatres were closed during the
Interregnum). When Cromwell died and his son, Richard Cromwell,
threatened to become Lord Protector, politicians and public figures
scrambled to show themselves as allies or enemies of the new
regime. Printed literature was dominated by odes in poetry, and
religious writing in prose. The industry of religious tract writing,
despite official efforts, did not reduce its output. Figures such as the
founder of the Society of Friends, George Fox, were jailed by the
Cromwellian authorities and published at their own peril.
During the Interregnum, the royalist forces attached to the court
of Charles I went into exile with the twenty-year-old Charles II and
conducted a brisk business in intelligence and fund-raising for an
eventual return to England. Some of the royalist ladies installed
themselves in convents in Holland and France that offered safe haven
for indigent and travelling nobles and allies. The men similarly
stationed themselves in Holland and France, with the court-in-exile
being established in The Hague before setting up more permanently
in Paris. The nobility who travelled with (and later travelled to)
Charles II were therefore lodged for more than a decade in the midst
of the continent's literary scene. As Holland and France in the 17th
century were little alike, so the influences picked up by courtiers in
exile and the travellers who sent intelligence and money to them
were not monolithic. Charles spent his time attending plays in France,
and he developed a taste for Spanish plays. Those nobles living in
Holland began to learn about mercantile exchange as well as the
tolerant, rationalist prose debates that circulated in that officially
tolerant nation. John Bramhall, for example, had been a strongly high
church theologian, and yet, in exile, he debated willingly with Thomas
Hobbes and came into the Restored church as tolerant in practice as
he was severe in argument.[1] Courtiers also received an exposure to
the Roman Catholic Church and its liturgy and pageants, as well as, to
a lesser extent, Italian poetry.
Initial reaction:
When Charles II became king in 1660, the sense of novelty in
literature was tempered by a sense of suddenly participating in
European literature in a way that England had not before. One of
Charles's first moves was to reopen the theatres and to grant letters
patent giving mandates for the theatre owners and
managers. Thomas Killigrew received one of the patents, establishing
the King's Company and opening the first patent theatre at
the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane; Sir William Davenant received the
other, establishing the Duke of York's theatre company and opening
his patent theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields.[2] Drama was public and a
matter of royal concern, and therefore both theatres were charged
with producing a certain number of old plays, and Davenant was
charged with presenting material that would be morally uplifting.
Additionally, the position of Poet Laureate was recreated, complete
with payment by a barrel of "sack" (Spanish white wine), and the
requirement for birthday odes.[3]
Charles II was a man who prided himself on his wit and his
worldliness. He was well known as a philanderer as well. Highly witty,
playful, and sexually wise poetry thus had court sanction. Charles and
his brother James, the Duke of York and future King of England, also
sponsored mathematics and natural philosophy, and so spirited
scepticism and investigation into nature were favoured by the court.
Charles II sponsored the Royal Society, which courtiers were eager to
join (for example, the noted diarist Samuel Pepys was a member),
just as Royal Society members moved in court. Charles and his court
had also learned the lessons of exile. Charles was High Church (and
secretly vowed to convert to Roman Catholicism on his death) and
James was crypto-Catholic, but royal policy was generally tolerant of
religious and political dissenters. While Charles II did have his own
version of the Test Act, he was slow to jail or persecute Puritans,
preferring merely to keep them from public office (and therefore to
try to rob them of their Parliamentary positions). As a consequence,
the prose literature of dissent, political theory,
and economics increased in Charles II's reign.
The Restoration :
The Restoration of Charles II brought about a revolutionary change in
life and literature. During this period gravity, moral earnestness and
decorum in all things, which distinguished the Puritan period, were
thrown to the winds. The natural instincts which were suppressed
during the previous era came to violent excesses. The King had a
number of mistresses and numerous children. He was surrounded by
corrupt and degenerate ministers. Profligacy was glorified in the royal
court. Corruption was rampant in all walks of life. The Great Fire of
1665 and the Plague that followed were popularly regarded as
suitable punishments for the sins of the profligate and selfish King.
While London was burning and the people were suffering, the King
and his nobles kept up their revels. The beginning of the Restoration
began the process of social transformation. The atmosphere of gaiety
and cheerfulness, of licentiousness and moral laxity was restored.
The theatres were reopened. There was a stern reaction against the
morality of the Puritans. Morality was on the wane. There was laxity
everywhere in life. All these tendencies of the age are clearly
reflected in the literature of the period.
During the Restoration period there was a rapid development of
science. The establishment of the Royal Society was a landmark in
history of England. The interest in science began to grow. The
growing interest in science resulted in the beginning of rational
inquiry and
scientific and objective outlook. Objectivity, rationality and
intellectual quality also enlivened the literature of this period. The
French influence was predominant during this period because the
King had spent the period of his exile in France. The French manners
and fashion spread from the court to the aristocracy. It also
influenced contemporary literature.
The Revolution
James II ascended the throne in 1685. He soon revealed his Roman
Catholic prejudices and he secretly tried to establish Catholicism in
the country. He became unpopular within three years and the whole
nation rose against him. The bloodless revolution of 1688 called the
Protestant William and Mary of Orange to the throne. The country
was once again restored to health and sanity. These deep and
vigorous movements brought about certain changes in the inner
social life. With the revival of factions and parties and the excitement
caused by the Popish plot, a quality of force and ardour revived in
civic feelings, so that the tone of literature and of social life is
somewhat modified. With the political and moral transformation
which began in 1688, the very Keynote of English literature, as of
English life, was greatly changed. It can be said that the last years of
the seventeenth century form a distinct period. It is a brief but well-
marked transition separating the Restoration from the age of
classicism.
The Restoration marks a complete break with the past. The people
believed in the present, the real and the material. Moody and Lovett
remark: ―In all directions it appeared as a disposition towards
conservation and moderation. Men had learned to fear individual
enthusiasm, and therefore they tried to discourage it by setting up
ideals of conduct in accordance with reason and common sense, to
which all men should adapt themselves. Rules of etiquette and social
conventions were established and the problem of life became that of
self-expression within the narrow bounds which were thus
prescribed.‖ All these tendencies were reflected in the literature of
this period. The writers, both in prose and poetry, tacitly agreed upon
the rules and principles in accordance with which they should write.
Rules and literary conventions became more important than the
depth and seriousness of the subject matter to the writers of this
period. They express superficial manners and customs of the
aristocratic and urban society and did not pry into the mysteries of
human mind and heart.
The work of the authors of the Restoration period was imitative and
of limited quality. Since they lacked creativity and flight of
imagination, they abandoned freedom altogether and slavishly
followed the rules. Edward Albert writes: ―Thus they evolved a
number of ―rules‖ which can usefully he summarised in the
injunction ―Be Correct‖, correctness means avoidance of
enthusiasm, moderate opinions moderately expressed, strict care
and accuracy in poetic technique; and humble imitation of the style
of Latin Classics.‖
The new tendency, which reached its climax in the Age of Pope, is
very clearly marked in the literature of the Restoration period. To
Dryden Dr. Johnson applied the term ―Augustan‖, saying that
Dryden did to English literature what Augustus did to home, which he
found ―of brick
and left of marble.‖ Dryden was the first representative of the new
ideas that were to dominate English literature till the end of the
eighteenth century.
5 Realism and formalism
Restoration literature is realistic. It was very much concerned with
life in London, and with details of dress, fashions and manners. ―The
early Restoration writers‖, observes W. J. Long, ―sought to paint
realistic pictures of corrupt court and society, and emphasized vices
rather than virtues and gave us coarse, low plays without interest or
moral significance. Like Hobbes, they saw only the externals of man,
his body and appetites, not his soul and his ideals. Later, however,
this tendency to realism became more wholesome. While it
neglected romantic poetry, in which youth is eternally interested, it
led to a keener study of the practical motives which govern human
action.‖ The Restoration writers eschewed all extravagances of
thought and language and aimed at achieving directness and
simplicity of expression. Dryden accepted the excellent rule for his
prose, and adopted the heroic couplet, as the next best thing for the
greater part of this poetry. It is largely due to Dryden that ―writers
developed formalism of style, that precise, almost mathematical
elegance, miscalled classicism, which ruled the English literature for
the next century.
Comedy of manners, witty, cerebral form of dramatic comedy that
depicts and often satirizes the manners and affectations of a
contemporary society. A comedy of manners is concerned with social
usage and the question of whether or not characters meet certain
social standards. Often the governing social standard is morally trivial
but exacting. The plot of such a comedy, usually concerned with an
illicit love affair or similarly scandalous matter, is subordinate to
the play’s brittle atmosphere, witty dialogue, and pungent
commentary on human foibles.
The comedy of manners, which was usually written by sophisticated
authors for members of their own coterie or social class, has
historically thrived in periods and societies that combined material
prosperity and moral latitude. Such was the case in ancient
Greece when Menander (c. 342–c. 292 BC) inaugurated New Comedy,
the forerunner of comedy of manners. Menander’s smooth style,
elaborate plots, and stock characters were imitated by the Roman
poets Plautus (c. 254–184 BC) and Terence (186/185–159 BC), whose
comedies were widely known and copied during the Renaissance.