Poetry: George Meredith
Meredith is best known as the author of such novels as The Ordeal of Richard Feverel and The Egoist, but he was also, at his best, a fine poet. Unfortunately, much of his poetry is more like fiction in verse.
Meredith is best known as the author of such novels as The Ordeal of Richard Feverel and The Egoist, but he was also, at his best, a fine poet. Unfortunately, much of his poetry is more like fiction in verse.
Delightful although not very cheery. I really liked the “as the clouds the clouds chase” – is there a reason for the odd structuring of the lines in the first poem? Is it just for fun? Does it follow any kind of established construct? There doesn’t seem to be a pattern, at least in the first several lines, of syllables/beats per line – or am I wrong? I read it like this:
A wind sways the pines,
And below not a breath of wild air;
Is that correct?
I suppose it is what the English would call a “Pindarick ode,” which derives from an old misunderstanding that Pindar wrote in verses unfettered by the usual rules, when, in fact, he wrote in very complex forms. English odes have rhyme but the lines are uneven. This formless form was popular in the late 17th century and was kept alive by the Romantics, e.g. Keats and Shelley. Here, Meredith is eating his cake and having it, by imitating the ode but using it with a sort of conversational rhythm.