Saturday, March 28, 2020

Poetry Study - John Donne

Olivia is working on continuing her poetry study that we began in 2012. We haven't been consistent with it as I had hoped. However, both Sophia and Olivia have been introduced to a variety of poets.

Today's focus is John Donne. From Wikipedia: John Donne was born on January 22, 1572 and lived until March 31, 1631. He "was an English scholar, poet, soldier and secretary born into a Catholic family, a remnant of the Catholic Revival, who reluctantly became a cleric in the Church of England.

"He is considered the pre-eminent representative of the metaphysical poets. His poetical works are noted for their metaphorical and sensual style and include sonnets, love poems, religious poems, Latin translations, epigrams, elegies, songs, satires. He is also known for his sermons.


"Despite his great education and poetic talents, Donne lived in poverty for several years, relying heavily on wealthy friends. He spent much of the money he inherited during and after his education on womanizing, literature, pastimes, and travel.

"In 1601, Donne secretly married Anne More, with whom he had twelve children. In 1615, he was ordained as a deacon and then an Anglican priest, although he did not want to take Holy Orders and only did so because the king ordered it. He also served as a member of Parliament in 1601 and in 1614."

Below are six poems that I read to Olivia. She and I talked about them and she shared some of her thoughts about each one.

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The Flea

Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is;
It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;
Thou know’st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead,
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pampered swells with one blood made of two,
And this, alas, is more than we would do.

Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, nay more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is;
Though parents grudge, and you, w'are met,
And cloistered in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that, self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail, in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it sucked from thee?
Yet thou triumph’st, and say'st that thou
Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now;
’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be:
Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me,
Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.

Olivia's thoughts:
- That's a lot of "thee"'s!
- I guess it talks about how evil fleas are and that they shouldn't exist.
- Fleas don't stay on one person - they go from person to person.
- It is kind of a confusing poem.
- The second stanza doesn't seem to have anything to do with fleas. It is more about the marriage.

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No Man is an Island

No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.

Olivia's thoughts:
- No one is alone and they are all part of something else or connected to one another.
- Any loss is painful for him.
- When someone dies, a person mourns and feels less than. A piece of that person is gone.
- When the bell tolls means when someone dies.
- I like this poem better than The Flea.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Apparition

When by thy scorn, O murd'ress, I am dead
And that thou think'st thee free
From all solicitation from me,
Then shall my ghost come to thy bed,
And thee, feign'd vestal, in worse arms shall see;
Then thy sick taper will begin to wink,
And he, whose thou art then, being tir'd before,
Will, if thou stir, or pinch to wake him, think
Thou call'st for more,
And in false sleep will from thee shrink;
And then, poor aspen wretch, neglected thou
Bath'd in a cold quicksilver sweat wilt lie
A verier ghost than I.
What I will say, I will not tell thee now,
Lest that preserve thee; and since my love is spent,
I'had rather thou shouldst painfully repent,
Than by my threat'nings rest still innocent.

Olivia thought:
- So he becomes a ghost or he become a ghost? No, he is the ghost.
- I think you have to look up the meaning of this poem in order to understand it. (We did this here.)
- It was funny once you looked up the meaning of it.
- I thought it was funny that the woman couldn't get help from her current husband and that she is afraid her ex-boyfriend will haunt her and she's laying there in a cold sweat.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Bait

Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines, and silver hooks.

There will the river whispering run
Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the sun;
And there the 'enamour'd fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.

When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.

If thou, to be so seen, be'st loth,
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both,
And if myself have leave to see,
I need not their light having thee.

Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset,
With strangling snare, or windowy net.

Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest
The bedded fish in banks out-wrest;
Or curious traitors, sleeve-silk flies,
Bewitch poor fishes' wand'ring eyes.

For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself art thine own bait:
That fish, that is not catch'd thereby,
Alas, is wiser far than I.

Olivia thought:
- So, it is saying that there is a man who wants to take a woman fishing and the fish want to be caught by the woman and no one else.
- All the other poor fishermen are going to get stuck or cut on other stuff - like the shells and weeds.
- The men are trying to catch the fish by tricking them, but the fish isn't falling for the trap.
- The original fisherman who brought the woman fishing said that she doesn't need any of the traps or deceit because the fish like her and want to be caught by her.
- This isn't a bad poem. No Man Is An Island is still my favorite one and then The Apparition is my second one because it is funny.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A Burnt Ship

Out of a fired ship, which by no way
But drowning could be rescued from the flame,
Some men leap'd forth, and ever as they came
Near the foes' ships, did by their shot decay;
So all were lost, which in the ship were found,
They in the sea being burnt, they in the burnt ship drown'd.

Olivia thought:
- The ship is on fire and can only be saved by drowning.
- Sailors tried to jump off the ship to survive, but they were so badly burnt that they drowned with the ship - even as they got near the enemy's ship.
- No one survived - the last line implies that there were no survivors.
- This was a surprising poem. This was very different from his other ones. This one had more of a gruesome end to it than the other poems.

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From the website A Poem A Day: "English is a great punning language, as John Donne skillfully shows here. This is the type of poem where you laugh despite yourself. You don't really expect to laugh in a poem about a lame (invalid) beggar. Who laughs at a beggar? Still, if the beggar is telling the truth, he lies. Lies on the ground, that is. It's the sort of pun that takes you by surprise and which must be rather disorienting for non-native speakers."

A Lame Begger

I am unable, yonder beggar cries,
To stand, or move; if he say true, he lies.

Olivia thought:
- What?
- I don't like this one as much. It's very confusing. It makes my head hurt trying to figure it out.

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