Stone Cottage: Pound, Yeats, and ModernismOxford University Press, 1991 M01 17 - 329 páginas Although readers of modern literature have always known about the collaboration of W.B. Yeats and Ezra Pound, the crucial winters these poets spent living together in Stone Cottage in Sussex (1913-1916) have remained a mystery. Working from a large base of previously unpublished material, James Longenbach presents for the first time the untold story of these three winters. Inside the secret world of Stone Cottage, Pound's Imagist poems were inextricably linked to Yeats's studies in spiritualism and magic, and early drafts of The Cantos reveal that the poem began in response to the same esoteric texts that shaped Yeats's visionary system. At the same time, Yeats's autobiographies and Noh-style plays took shape with Pound's assistance. Having retreated to Sussex to escape the flurry of wartime London, both poets tracked the progress of the Great War and in response wrote poems--some unpublished until now--that directly address the poet's political function. More than the story of a literary friendship, Stone Cottage explores the Pound-Yeats connection within the larger context of modern literature and culture, illuminating work that ranks with the greatest achievements of modernism. |
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Términos y frases comunes
Amica Silentia Lunae appeared aristocratic artist arts Ashdown Forest beauty Blunt Brothers Minor Comte de Gabalis dead dialogues Dorothy Shakespear Dowson draft drama dream Egoist English essay explained Ezra Pound F. S. Flint father February George ghosts Harriet Monroe Hawk's Heydon Image Imagist Ireland Irish Itow January John Quinn Joyce Joyce's Lady Gregory Leo Africanus letter lines literary literature living London lyric Maud Gonne memory mind modern Moore Nishikigi Noh plays occult Olivia Shakespear Pisan Cantos poet poetic Poetry magazine Pound and Yeats Pound saw Pound to Harriet Pound wrote praise published remembered Rhymers secret society sense soul spirit Stone Cottage Sussex symbolism Synge T. S. Eliot Tagore theatre things thought Three Cantos tion translation verse vision visionary Vorticism Vorticist W. B. Yeats William winter at Stone write written Yeats to Lady Yeats told Yeats wrote Yeats's York
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Página 123 - Only a man harrowing clods In a slow silent walk, With an old horse that stumbles and nods Half asleep as they stalk. Only thin smoke without flame From the heaps of couch-grass; Yet this will go onward the same Though dynasties pass. Yonder a maid and her wight Come whispering by; War's annals will cloud into night Ere their story die.
Página 121 - The host with someone indistinct Converses at the door apart, The nightingales are singing near The Convent of the Sacred Heart, And sang within the bloody wood When Agamemnon cried aloud, And let their liquid siftings fall To stain the stiff dishonoured shroud.
Página 255 - No, no, not night but death; Was it needless death after all? For England may keep faith For all that is done and said. We know their dream; enough To know they dreamed and are dead; And what if excess of love Bewildered them till they died?
Página 130 - dulce' non 'et decor' . . . walked eye-deep in hell believing in old men's lies, then unbelieving came home, home to a lie, home to many deceits, home to old lies and new infamy; usury age-old and age-thick and liars in public places.
Página 202 - To me the short so-called dramatic lyric— at any rate the sort of thing I do— is the poetic part of a drama the rest of which ( to me the prose part) is left to the reader's imagination or implied or set in a short note.
Página 157 - How should the world be luckier if this house, Where passion and precision have been one Time out of mind, became too ruinous To breed the lidless eye that loves the sun ? And the sweet laughing eagle thoughts that grow Where wings have memory of wings, and all That comes of the best knit to the best ? Although Mean roof-trees were the sturdier for its fall, How should their luck run high enough to reach The gifts that govern men, and after these To gradual Time's last gift, a written speech Wrought...
Página 254 - I have looked upon those brilliant creatures, And now my heart is sore. All's changed since I, hearing at twilight, The first time on this shore, The bell-beat of their wings above my head, Trod with a lighter tread.
Página 58 - You gave, but will not give again Until enough of Paudeen's pence By Biddy's halfpennies have lain To be 'some sort of evidence", Before you'll put your guineas down, That things it were a pride to give Are what the blind and ignorant town Imagines best to make it thrive. What cared Duke Ercole, that bid His mummers to the market-place, What th* onion-sellers thought or did So that his Plautus set the pace For the Italian comedies?
Página 154 - The living men that I hate, The dead man that I loved, The craven man in his seat, The insolent unreproved, And no knave brought to book Who has won a drunken cheer, The witty man and his joke Aimed at the commonest ear, The clever man who cries The catch-cries of the clown, The beating down of the wise And great Art beaten down.