Se muestran los artículos pertenecientes a Noviembre de 2016.
domingo, 1 de noviembre de 2015
A note on some aspects of Jack London’s fiction, particularly The Star Rover, from the standpoint of evolutionary and cognitive narratology. London’s awareness of the significance of evolution has a number of consequences for the theory and practice of narrative anchoring in his fictions, particularly in the building of explicit connections between Big History and the writer’s narrative praxis.
Number of Pages in PDF File: 6
lunes, 2 de noviembre de 2015
Este artículo relaciona una teoría de la interioridad surgida de la concepción dramatística de la persona expuesta por Goffman, con las teorías foucaultianas y deleuzianas de la subjetividad, remontándose también a la inspiración nietzscheana originaria sobre la génesis de la interioridad a partir de la represión, formulada en 'La genealogía de la moral'. La noción postestructuralista de los 'pliegues del sujeto', procedente de Deleuze y Foucault, y en concreto tal como es formulada por Nikolas Rose, proporciona un marco teórico complementario que arroja luz adicional sobre el dramatismo de Goffman, y es a su vez esclarecida por este enfoque interaccionista.
English Abstract: The Origin and Emergent Structure of Interiority
This paper relates a theory of interiority derived from Erving Goffman's dramatistic conception of the self with the Deleuzian and Focuauldian constructivist theories of the self, going also back to Nietzsche's original inspiration of the genesis of interiority through repression formulated in 'The Genealogy of Morals'. The post-structuralist notion of the 'folds of the self', coming from Deleuze and Foucault, in particular as formulated by Nikolas Rose, provides a complementary theoretical framework which throws additional light on Goffman's dramatism and is, in its turn, illuminated by this interactional approach.
Note: Downloadable document is in Spanish.
Number of Pages in PDF File: 20
42. Sobre el teatro
1. Teatro es el lugar en que se encuentra un escenario; tiene forma de semicírculo y en él todos los presentes observan. Su forma fue inicialmente circular, como el anfiteatro; después, de medio anfiteatro se hizo un teatro. El nombre de theatrum le viene del espectáculo mismo, derivado de theoria, porque en él el pueblo, colocado en los lugares elevados y asistiendo como espectadores, contemplaba los juegos. 2. Al teatro se le denomina también "prostíbulo", porque, terminado el espectáculo, allí se prostituían (prostrare) las rameras. Se llama también lupanar por esas mismas meretrices que, a causa de la frivolidad de su prostituido cuerpo, reciben el nombre de lupae (lobas), pues "lobas" son llamadas las prostitutas por su rapacidad, ya que atraen hacia ellas a los desdichados y los atrapan. Pues los paganos establecieron lupanares para que allí se expusiera al público el pudor de las infelices mujeres y sufrieran deshonra tanto los que allí acudían como quienes en aquel lugar se prostituían.
43. La escena
La escena era el lugar situado en la parte inferior del teatro; tenía la apariencia de una casa dotada de una tribuna, tribuna que se denominaba orchestra y en la que cantaban los actores cómicos o trágicos, y donde bailaban los histriones y los mimos. El nombre de escena es de origen griego: se denomina así porque presentaba el aspecto de una casa. Por idéntico motivo, entre los hebreos, la dedicación de los tabernáculos se llamaba skenopégia, por la semejanza que éstos tenían con una casa.
44. La orchestra
La orchestra era la tribuna de la escena; en ella podía actuar el bailarín o representar dos personas en una disputa. A ella subían los poetas cómicos o trágicos a rivalizar en los certámenes. Y mientrs unos cantaban, otros hacían pasos de danza. Los que se dedicaban al arte escénico eran los tragediógrafos, comediógrafos, músicos, histriones, mimos y danzarines.
45. Sobre los tragediógrafos
Los tragediógrafos son los que, con verso triste y ante el público espectador, contaban las antiguas hazañas y delitos de reyes criminales.
46. Sobre los comediógrafos
Los comediógrafos son los que, con sus palabras y sus gestos, cantaban hechos de personas particulares y representaban en sus comedias los estupros de las doncellas y los amores de las prostitutas.
47. Sobre los músicos
Thymelici eran los músicos de la escena, que iniciaban el canto con sus instrumentos musicales, de ordinario liras o cítaras. Se les denominaba thymelici porque antiguamente cantaban subidos en la orchestra, en lo alto de la tribuna, que era llamada thymele.
48. Sobre los histriones
Los histriones son los que, vestidos con ropas femeninas, imitaban los gestos de las mujeres impúdicas. Asimismo, con sus danzas representaban historias y hechos ocurridos. Se les llama histriones porque este tipo de actores fue traído de Histria; o porque representaban comedias urdidas con diferentes historias, como si se les dijera historiones.
49. Sobre los mimos
A los mimos se les denomina así, con un término griego, porque son imitadores de las cosas humanas. Tenían su propio guionista; éste, antes de que se representase la acción mímica, narraba el argumento. Y es que los poetas componían las comedias de tal modo que pudieran adaptarse perfectamente al movimiento del cuerpo.
50. Sobre los danzarines
Varrón afirma que los danzarines recibieron el nombre de saltatores derivándolo del árcade Salio, a quien Eneas llevó consigo a Italia, y que fue el primero que enseñó a danzar a los jóvenes nobles romanos.
51. Qué se representa y bajo qué patronato
Es de todo punto evidente el patrocinio de Líber y de Venus en las artes escénicas y en todo lo propio y privativo de la escena, como son los gestos y flexiones del cuerpo. En efecto, ofrendaban a Líber y a Venus la sensualidad, unos por el sexo, y otros, disolutos, por el fasto. Por su parte, todo cuanto se desarrolló mediante la palabra y el canto, los instrumentos de viento y las liras, tiene como patronos a los Apolos, las Musas, las Minervas y los mercurios. Tú, cristiano, debes aborrecer este espectáculo del mismo modo que aborreciste a sus patronos.
From the Oxford Companion to English Literature, ed. Margaret Drabble:
Notes on some works by Dryden (from the Oxford Companion):
Annus Mirabilis, a poem in quatrains by *Dryden, published 1667.
Its subjects are the Dutch War (1665-6) and the Fire of London. Prefaced by 'Verses to her Highness and Dutchess' [of York], it indicates that even in the 1660s Dryden's optimism about the monarchy, mercantilism, and the *Royal Society (of which he was a fellow) did not preclude the expression of an ironic vision of history. Queen Elizabeth II, to the bewilderment of some journalists, drew on Dryden's poem in a speech (24 Nov. 1992) referring to the fire of Windsor in that year, using the words 'Annus Horribilis'.
Tyrannick Love, or The Royal Martyr, a heroic play by *Dryden, produced and published 1669.
Based on the legend of the martyrdom of St Catherine by the Roman emperor Maximin, it contains some of Dryden's most extravagant heroic verse. Possibly deliberately comic at times, it is also seriously concerned with contrasting Lucretian and Christian conceptions of God. It was ridiculed in *The Rehearsal, and by *Shadwell. Dryden himself satirizes its excesses in *Mac Flecknoe.
Mac Flecknoe (c. 1676), or A Satyr upon the True-Blew-Protestant Poet, T. S., a *mock-epic poem by *Dryden published 1682, and in a definitive edition, 1684.
The outcome of a series of disagreements, personal, professional, and critical, between Dryden and *Shadwell, the poem represents the latter as heir to the kingdom of poetic dullness, currently governed by the minor writer *Flecknoe. It brilliantly exploits the crudity of Shadwell's farces (notably The Virtuoso) and critical writings; while the range of its allusions to 17th-cent. theatre demonstrates the complexity of Dryden's critical thought and, since he satirized his own work (notably *Tyrannick Love) as well as Shadwell's, his humility towards the tradition in which he was working. Mac Flecknoe was a vital inspiration for Pope's Dunciad.
martes, 3 de noviembre de 2015
Y este mes estamos como sigue. He bajado en el ránking global, del puesto 617 al 683, ordenados por lecturas de artículos recientes. : /
John Dryden's Alexander Feast: or, The Power of Music - An Ode in Honour of St. Cecilia's Day, 1697.
miércoles, 4 de noviembre de 2015
Resumen de la conferencia de ayer de Jordi Canal sobre el nacionalismo en la historiografía catalana. En sustancia y disculpen la simplificación:
La historiografía catalana ha dejado de ser significativa. Ha pasado del marxismo (superficial y mal asimilado) de los años 70 y 80, a un idealismo romántico supeditado a los intereses políticos del gobierno local y a sus planes secesionistas, con una perspectiva falseada y sectaria sobre la identidad y la historia de Cataluña, tergiversando y distorsionando la realidad histórica para amoldarla a un ensueño romántico y a un esencialismo patrio más digno de principios del siglo XIX que del XX y por supuesto del XXI. Los historiadores catalanes "catalanistas" viven encerrados en una atmósfera localista, ombliguista y ajena a la historiografía crítica y rigurosa. La Universidad catalana, al menos en lo que toca a la historiografía, ha hecho dejadez del pensamiento crítico y del rigor y está sometida de modo humillante a los dictados del poder local y al delirio nacionalista alentado desde esas instancias.
Pongo este resumen en el Facebook de la Facultad. A Jordi Canal le pregunté si esta visión delirante de Cataluña promovida desde el nacionalismo catalán (y en catalán) había tenido eco o respuesta en la historiografía española o europea en general, pues también se escribe la historia de Cataluña como englobada en la historia de España o de Europa, por parte de autores no nacionalistas. No me respondió en realidad sobre hasta qué punto ha tenido respuesta o ha sido "vendida la moto nacionalista" a la generalidad del público historiador, auque sí observó que hay un relativo aislamiento tanto lingüístico (los catalanistas publican ya sólo en catalán y sólo se leen entre sí) como institucional—ya no se asiste a congresos de historia de España, y hay una incomunicación entre ese mundillo y el resto de la historiografía española.
From The Oxford Companion to English Literature, ed. Margaret Drabble.
jueves, 5 de noviembre de 2015
Note: Downloadable document is in Spanish.
Number of Pages in PDF File: 88
The Remediated Self
In dialogue with Bolter and Grusin’s concept of ’remediation’ and their analysis of mediacy and immediacy in representation, this paper makes some observations on the consequences of multimediality and intermediality in the analysis of the structure of the self and of personal experience. I also note the paradoxical relationship linking immersion, attention, and multimedial complexity.
Note: Downloadable document is in Spanish.
Number of Pages in PDF File: 6
viernes, 6 de noviembre de 2015
OOps. Borrada por el "propietario". No importa. Aquí está el original, en la sección sobre lingüística (inglés): http://bit.ly/abiblio
domingo, 8 de noviembre de 2015
EL GOBIERNO INCUMPLE LA LEY—porque ampara a la sedición catalana, no persiguiéndola ni deteniéndola. Deberían acabar todos en los tribunales, pero en España la ley es papel mojado.
From The Oxford Companion to English Literature, ed. Margaret Drabble.
The Reharsal, a farcical comedy attributed to George Villiers, second duke of *Buckingham, but probably written by him in collaboration with others, among whom are mentioned Samuel *Butler and Martin Clifford, master of the Charterhouse; printed 1672.
The play satirizes the heroic tragedies of the day, and consists of a series of parodies of passages from these, strung together in an absurd heroic plot. The author of the mock play is evidently a laureate (hence his name 'Bayes'), and *D'Avenant was probably intended; but there are also hits at *Dryden (particularly his Conquest of Granada) and his brothers-in-law, Edward and Robert Howard. Bayes takes two friends, Smith and Johnson, to see the rehearsal of his play, and the absurdity of this work (which includes the two kings of Brentford, entering hand in hand), coupled with the comments of Bayes, his instructions to the actors, and the remarks of Smith and Johnson, remains highly entertaining. Prince Pretty-man, Prince Volscius, and *Drawcansir are among the characters. It was one of the earliest of English dramatic *burlesques, and was much performed during the 18th cent., during which period the genre developed to one of its highest points in Sheridan's *The Critic. The work helped to inspire *Marvell's The Rehearsal Transpros'd (1672; Pt II, 1673).
Drawcansir, a character in Buckingham's *The Rehearsal, parodying Almanzor in *Dryden's The Conquest of Granada; he appears briefly in the last act in a mock-heroic stage battle, and according to the stage directions, 'kills 'em all on both sides'. *Carlyle, in his history of *Frederick the Great, refers to the 'terrific Drawcansir figures' of the French revolution, 'of enormous whiskerage, unlimited command of gunpowder . . . and even a certain heroism, stage-heroism'.
burlesque, from the Italian burla, ridicule, mockery, a literary composition or dramatic representation which aims at exciting laughter by the comical treatment of a serious subject or the caricature of the spirit of a serious work. Notable examples of burlesque in English literature are Butler's *Hudibras and Buckingham's *The Rehearsal.
Federico, cabreado —con los sediciosos catalanes, y sobre todo con quienes les han dejado llegar hasta aquí, y que quién sabe hasta dónde les dejarán.
Economizando mi papel, publico una notita en estas revistas de teoría económica. La primera, la History of Economics eJournal:
La revista la auspicia la History of Economics Society— quien a su vez se pone bajo los auspicios de Adam Smith:
Tal vez sea lo más cerca que vaya a estar yo de Adam Smith. A menos que efectivamente termine de escribir ese paper al que le voy dando vueltas, sobre la muy interesante Teoría de los Sentimientos Morales de este agente Smith.
La mayoría de los representantes del Parlamento catalán han elegido la sedición. Un camino que traerá muy malas consecuencias, y enfrentamiento político y civil. A tiros acabará la cosa—es lo que dice Hobbes que pasa cuando no obedecemos a la ley, sino a la ley de la selva. Nadie lo quiere decir, pero por la presente la Cataluña política, representada por sus instituciones pertenecientes a España, se declara en guerra y sublevación contra España. Como no acatarán las condenas de juzgados españoles, dicen, los arrestos habrán de ser a la fuerza y a tortas. O a tiros, efectivamente, según derive la cosa.
Lo explica Santiago Abascal, y no lo quiere oír Rajoy, nuestro indigno presidente.
lunes, 9 de noviembre de 2015
En la serie "mis vídeos acogidos con mayor indiferencia" retomamos esta retoma de "Le plus beau tango du monde", de un musical francés olvidado de los años 30.
sábado, 7 de noviembre de 2015
Retropost #1216 (8 de noviembre de 2016): La evaluación evaluada
Nos hacen llegar los representantes sindicales de FETE-UGT esta valoración tan negativa del novedoso programa de evaluación de la actividad docente del profesorado recién implantado por la Universidad de Zaragoza:
Retropost #1217 (8 de noviembre de 2016): Quetzalcoatlus
Álvaro acaba de producir este Quetzalcoatlus sobrevolando una manada de saurópodos.
"Éste es mi dibujo favorito".
Henry Purcell, King Arthur or The British Worthy. (With Dryden's libretto).
KING ARTHUR or the British Worthy /
LE ROI ARTHUR or le valeureux Breton /
KING ARTHUR oder Britanniens Würde
"A dramatick opera"
Livret/ Libretto : John DRYDEN (1631-1700)
Veronique GENS, soprano/Sopran
Claron McFADDEN, soprano/Sopran
Sandrine PIAU, soprano/Sopran
Susannah WATERS, soprano/Sopran
Mark PADMORE, ténor/Tenor
Iain PATON, ténor/Tenor
Jonathan BEST, basse/bass/Baß
COLD GENIUS, AEOLUS, COMUS
Petteri SALOMAA, basse/bass/Baß
François BAZOLA, basse/bass/Baß
LES ARTS FLORISSANTS
Direction/Conductor/Dirigent : WILLIAM CHRISTIE
Bölkow, Anne Cambier, Mhairi Lawson, Violaine Lucas, Anne Mopin,
Brigitte Pelote, Valérie Picard, Anne Pichard, Sylviane Pitour, Carys
Lloyd Roberts, Sheena Wolstencroft, sopranos/Sopran
Jean-Xavier Combarieu, Richard Duguay, Jean-Yves Ravoux, Didier Rebuffet, Bruno Renhold, ténors I/Tenor I
Bruno-Karl Boës, François Piolino, Jean-Marie Puissant, Deryck Huw Webb, ténors II/Tenor II
François Bazola, Laurent Collobert, Jean-François Gay, David Le Monnier, Jean-Marc Mory, Christophe Olive, basses/Baß
Spirits of Grimbald
Lawson, Sheena Wolstencroft, Didier Rebuffet, Bruno Renhold, François
Piolino, Deryck Huw Webb, Laurent Collobert, David Le Monnier
Spirits of Philidel
Lucas, Carys Lloyd Roberts, Richard Duguay, Jean-Yves Ravoux,
Bruno-Karl Boës, Jean-Marie Puissant, François Bazzola, Jean-François
Assistant musical charge du choeur/
musical assistant and chorus master/
Musikalischer Assistant und Choreinstudierung
Kurosaki, Roberto Crisafulli. Simon Heyerick, Michèle Sauvé, Isabelle
Serrano, Peter Van Boxelaere, violons/violins/Violine I
Catherine Girard, Sophie Gevers-Demoures, Guya Martinini, Martha Moore, Ruth Weber, George Willms, violons/violins/Violine II
Galina Zinchenko, Nadine Davin, Marcial Moreiras, Anne Weber, altos/Violas/Viole
Emmanuel Balssa, Elena Andreyev, Paul carlioz, Alix Verzier, violoncelles/Cello
Jonathan Cable, contrebasse/double basse/Kontrabass
Sébastien Marq, flûte à bec/recorder/Querflöte
Christian Moreaux, Geoffrey Burgess, hatbois/Oboe
Hugo Reyne, taille de hautbois et flûte à bec/recorder/Querflöte
Paolo Tognon, Simon Rickard, bassons/bassoons/Fagott
Per Olov Lindeke, Gilles Rapin, trompettes/trumpets/Trompete
Marie-Ange Petit, Françoise Rivalland, percussions/percussion/Schlagzeug
Jonathan Rubin, Elisabeth Kenny, théorbe/Théorbo
David Simpson. violoncelle/Cello
Anne-Marie Lasla, viole de gambe/viola da Gamba
Cummings, clavecin et assistant à la direction musicale/harpsichord and
assistant director/ Cembalo und Assistent der musikalischen Leitung
(Harpsichord Rückers, D. Jacques Way et Marc Ducornet, Paris)
JOHN DRYDEN: KING ARTHUR OR THE BRITISH WORTHY, "A Dramatick Opera"
KING ARTHUR or THE BRITISH WORTHY
Semi opera in five acts
May or June 1691, London (Dorset Garden Theatre)
GRIMBALD (Bass / Baritone)
COLD GENIUS (Bass)
AEOLUS (Bass / Baritone)
sheperds and shepherdesses, soldiers, spirits, satyrs etc.
King Arthur has secured all of his kingdom except Kent in the course of
the battles with the Saxons; they are led by Oswald, who has set out to
win not only his throne but his love, the blind Emmeline, daughter of
Conon, Duke of Cornwall. Arthur takes leave of her for the final,
decisive battle against the heathen invader.
A place of heathen worship; the three saxon gods, Woden, Thor and Freya
placed on pedestals; an altar. Oswald, his magician Osmond and the
earthly evil spirit Grimbald have brought victims for a sacrifice, to
ensure victory in battle, and are preparing for the rites. Grimbald
goes to the door, and re-enters with six Saxons in white, with swords in
their hands. They range, themselves three and three in opposition to
each other. The rest of the stage is filled with priests and singers.
Woden, first to thee
A milk-white steed, in battle won,
We have sacrific'd.
We have sacrific'd.
Let our next oblation be
To Thor, thy thund'ring son,
Of such another.
We have sacrific'd.
A third (of Friesland breed was he)
To Woden's wife, and to Thor's mother;
And now we have aton'd all three.
We have sacrific'd.
TENOR I & II
The white horse neigh'd aloud.
To Woden thanks we render,
To Woden we have vow'd,
To Woden, our defender.
To Woden thanks we render,
To Woden we have vow'd,
To Woden, our defender.
The lot is cast, and Tanfan pleas'd;
Of mortal cares you shall be eas'd.
Brave souls, to be renown'd in story.
Die and reap the fruit of glory.
I call you all
To Woden's Hall,
Your temples round
With ivy bound
In goblets crown'd,
And plenteous bowls of burnish'd gold,
Where ye shall laugh
And dance and quaff
The juice that makes the Britons bold.
To Woden's Hall all,
Where in plenteous bowls of burnish'd gold,
We shall laugh
And dance and quaff
The juice that makes the Britons bold.
The six Saxons are led off by the priests, in order to be sacrificed.
Exeunt omnes. A battle supposed to be given behind the scenes, with
drums, trumpets, and military shouts and excursions, after which the
Britons, expressing their joy for the victory, sing this song of
"Come if you dare," our trumpets sound.
"Come if you dare," the foes rebound.
We come, we come, we come, we come,"
Says the double, double, double beat of
the thund'ring drum.
"Come if you dare," our trumpets sound, etc.
Now they charge on amain.
Now they rally again.
The Gods from above the mad labour behold,
And pity mankind that will perish for gold.
Now they charge on amain, etc.
The fainting Saxons quit their ground,
Their trumpets languish in their sound,
They fly, they fly, they fly, they fly,
"Victoria, Victoria," the bold Britons cry.
The fainting Saxons quit their ground, etc.
Now the victory's won,
To the plunder we run,
We return to our lasses like fortunate traders,
Triumphant with spoils of the vanquish'd invaders.
Now the victory's won, etc.
Philidel, a repentant airy spirit, reports to Merlin that Grimbald is
approaching and will attempt to mislead the conquering Britons to
cliffs, where they will fall to their deaths, by telling them that they
are pursuing the retreating Saxons. Merlin commands Philidel, assisted
by his band of spirits, to protect the Britons and counter. Grimbald's
forces. Exit Merlin in this chariot. Merlin's spirits stay with
Philidel. Enter Grimbald in the habit of a shepherd, followed by King
Arthur, Conon, Aurelius, Albanact and soldiers, who wander at a distance
in the scenes.
Hither, this way, this way bend,
Trust not the malicious fiend.
Those are false deluding lights
Wafted far and near by sprites.
Trust 'em not, for they'll deceive ye,
And in bogs and marshes leave ye.
CHORUS OF PHILIDEL'S SPIRITS
Hither, this way, this way bend.
CHORUS OF GRIMBALD' S SPIRITS
This way, hither, this way bend.
If you step no longer thinking,
Down you fall, a furlong sinking.
'Tis a fiend who has annoy'd ye:
Name but Heav'n, and he'll avoid ye.
Hither, this way.
PHILIDEL' S SPIRITS
Hither, this way, this way bend.
GRIMBALD' S SPIRITS
This way, hither, this way bend.
PHILIDEL' S SPIRITS
Trust not the malicious fiend.
Hither, this way, etc.
Conon and Albanact are persuaded not to follow Grimbald any further, but
Grimbald produces fresh footprints as proof that they are following the
Let not a moon-born elf mislead ye
From your prey and from your glory;
To fear, alas, he has betray'd ye;
Follow the flames that wave before ye,
Sometimes sev'n, and sometimes one.
Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry on.
See, see the footsteps plain appearing.
That way Oswald chose for flying.
Firm is the turf and fit for bearing,
Where yonder pearly dews are lying.
Far he cannot hence be gone.
Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry on.
All are going to follow Grimbald.
Hither, this way, this way bend.
GRIMBALD' S SPIRITS
Hither, this way, this way bend.
Trust not that malicious fiend.
Hither, this way, etc.
They all incline to Philidel. Grimbald curses Philidel and sinks with a
flash. Arthur gives thanks that the fiend has vanished.
Come, follow me.
Come, follow me,
And me, and me, and me, and me.
Come, follow me.
And green-sward all your way shall be.
Come, follow me.
No goblin or elf shall dare to offend ye.
No goblin or elf shall dare to offend ye.
TWO SOPRANOS, TENOR
We brethren of air
You heroes will bear
To the kind and the fair that attend ye.
We brethren of air, etc.
Philidel and the spirits go off singing, with King Arthur and the rest
in the middle of them. Enter Emmeline led by Matilda. Pavilion Scene.
Emmeline and Matilda discuss King Arthur. Matilda entreats Emmeline to
forget her cares and let a group of Kentish lads and lasses entertain
her while she awaits Arthur's return. Enter shepherds and shepherdesses.
How blest are shepherds, how happy their lasses,
While drums and trumpets are sounding alarms.
Over our lowly sheds all the storm passes
And when we die, 'tis in each other's arms
All the day on our herds and flocks employing,
All the night on our flutes and in enjoying.
How blest are shepherds, how happy their lasses, etc.
Bright nymphs of Britain with graces attended,
Let not your days without pleasure expire.
Honour's but empty, and when youth is ended,
All men will praise you but none will desire.
Let not youth fly away without contenting;
Age will come time enough for your repenting.
Bright nymphs of Britain with graces attended, etc.
Here the men offer their flutes to the women, which they refuse.
Shepherd, shepherd, leave decoying:
Pipes are sweet on summer's day,
But a little after toying,
Women have the shot to pay.
Here are marriage-vows for signing:
Set their marks that cannot write.
After that, without repining,
Play, and welcome, day and night.
Here the women give the men contracts, which they accept.
Come, shepherds, lead up a lively measure
The cares of wedlock are cares of pleasure:
But whether marriage bring joy or sorrow.
Make sure of this day and hang tomorrow
The dance after the song, and exeunt shepherds and shepherdesses.
Second Act Tune: Air
Emmeline and Matilda are captured by Oswald, who has refused to release
them during a parley with Arthur. The Britons prepare to rescue Emmeline
from the Saxon fortress.
The Britons are panicked by the magic horrors that have been put around
the Saxon fortress to protect it and want to retreat. Arthur, however,
is prepared to attempt to penetrate them alone. Merlin advises him to
wait until after the spells have been broken, but does promise to spirit
him off to the captive Emmeline, and to restore her sight.
A Deep Wood
Philidel is captured by Grimbald while trying to find Emmeline, but he
escapes and casts a strong spell over the evil spirit. Merlin and Arthur
enter; Merlin gives Philidel a vial containing the drops that will
restore Emmeline's sight and leaves to attempt to dispel the
dire enchantments in the wood. Emmeline and Matilda enter from the far
end of the wood. Arthur withdraws as Philidel approaches Emmeline,
sprinkling some of the water out of the vial over her eyes. Emmeline
sees Arthur for the first time, and tells him that not only Oswald, but
also Osmond desires her love. Airy spirits appear to congratulate her on
the recovery of her sight, but then vanish when Philidel announces the
approach of their foes. Emmeline and Matilda are left alone. Osmond,
whom Emmeline now sees for the first time, ardently woos her and boasts
how he has thrown Oswald into prison. Emmeline, frozen with terror,
refuses his advances, but Osmond assures her that Love will thaw her,
and demonstrates by using his magic wand to change Britain's mild clime
to Iceland and farthest Thule's frost.
THE FROST SCENE
Osmond strikes the ground with his wand, the scene changes to a prospect
of winter in frozen countries.
What ho! thou genius of this isle, what ho!
Liest thou asleep beneath those hills of snow?
Stretch out thy lazy limbs. Awake, awake!
And winter from thy furry mantle shake.
What power art thou, who from below
Hast made me rise unwillingly and slow
From beds of everlasting snow?
See'st thou not how stiff and wondrous old,
Far unfit to bear the bitter cold,
I can scarcely move or draw my breath?
Let me, let me freeze again to death.
Thou doting fool forbear, forbear!
What dost thou mean by freezing here?
At Love's appearing, All the sky clearing,
The stormy winds their fury spare.
And Spring renewing,
My beams create a more glorious year.
Thou doting fool, forbear, forbear!
What dost thou mean by freezing here?
Great Love, I know thee now:
Eldest of the gods art thou.
Heav'n and earth by thee were made.
Human nature is thy creature,
Ev'rywhere thou art obey'd.
No part of my dominion shall he waste:
To spread my sway and sing my praise
E'en here I will a people raise
Of kind embracing lovers, and embrac'd.
Cupid waves his wand, upon which the scene opens, discovers a prospect
of ice and snow. Singers and dancers, men and women, appear.
CHORUS OF COLD PEOPLE
See, see, we assemble
Thy revels to hold:
Tho' quiv'ring with cold
We chatter and tremble.
'Tis I, 'tis I, 'tis I that have warm'd ye.
In spite of cold weather
I've brought ye together.
'Tis I, 'tis I, 'tis I that have warm'd ye,
'Tis Love, 'tis Love, 'tis Love
that has warm'd us.
In spite of the weather
He brought us together.
'Tis Love, 'tis Love, 'tis Love
that has warm'd us.
CUPID & COLD GENIUS
Sound a parley, ye fair, and surrender,
Set yourselves and your lovers at ease.
He's a grateful offender
Who pleasure dare seize:
But the whining pretender
Is sure to displease.
Sound a parley, ye fair, and surrender.
Since the fruit of desire is possessing,
'Tis unmanly to sigh and complain.
When we kneel for redressing,
We move your disdain.
Love was made for a blessing
And not for a pain.
'Tis Love, 'tis Love, 'tis Love
that has warm'd us, etc.
Third Act Tune: Hornpipe
A dance; after which the singers and dancers depart. Emmeline is saved
from Osmond's lustful advances when the ensnared Grimbald cries out,
compelling the magician to go to the rescue of his evil spirit.
Osmond learns that Merlin has broken his spells but plans to cast new
spells and seduce Arthur with visions of beauty.
Arthur, having first been warned by Merlin that everything he sees is
illusion, is left alone in the wood under the watchful eye of Philidel,
who can reveal any evil spirits with a wave of Merlin's wand. Arthur is
amazed that instead of the horrors and dangers he had expected, he hears
soft music and sees a golden bridge spanning a silver stream. Though
suspecting a trap, he approaches the bridge. Two sirens naked to the
waist, emerge, begging him to lay aside his sword and join them.
Two daughters of this aged stream are we,
And both our sea-green locks have comb'd for ye.
Come bathe with us an hour or two;
Come naked in, for we are so.
What danger from a naked foe?
Come bathe with us, come bathe, and share
What pleasures in the floods appear.
We'll beat the waters till they bound
And circle round, and circle round.
Though sorely tempted, Arthur resists and presses on.As he is going
forward, nymphs and sylvans come out from behind the trees. Dance with
song, all with branches in their bands.
How happy the lover,
How easy his chain!
How sweet to discover
He sighs not in vain.
How happy the lover, etc.
SYLVAN & NYMPH
For love ev'ry creature
Is form'd by his nature.
No joys are above
The pleasures of love.
No joys are above.
The pleasures of love.
In vain are our graces,
In vain are your eyes.
In vain are our graces
If love you despise.
When age furrows faces,
'Tis too late to be wise.
Then use the sweet blessing
While now in possessing.
No joys are above
The pleasures of love.
No joys are above
The pleasures of love.
No joys are above
The pleasures of love.
Fourth Act Tune: Air
Arthur commands the sylvans, nymphs and sirens begone and they vanish.
In an attempt to break the spells, he draws his sword and strikes a blow
at the finest tree in the wood. A vision of Emmeline appears from its
trunk, her arm wounded by the blow; it persuades him to lay down his
sword and take her hand. Philidel rushes in, and with a touch of the
wand reveals the vision to be Grimbald in disguise, Arthur then fells
the tree, breaking the spells and opening a safe passage for the Britons
to the Saxon fortress. Grimbald is bound up by Philidel and led out
Osmond's spells have been broken and his spirit Grimbald captured. He
decides to release Oswald from the prison in the hope that together they
may at last defeat Arthur.
The Britons march on the Saxon fortress, and are met by Oswald, who
proposes the war be decided in single combat with Arthur. After a very
close fight, in which the two magicians are also pitted against each
other, Arthur finally succeeds in disarming Oswald, but grants him his
A consort of trumpets within, proclaiming Arthur's victory. While they
sound, Arthur and Oswald seem to confer. Arthur commands Oswald to
return to Saxony with his men. Emmeline is restored to Arthur. Merlin
imprisons Osmond and proclaims the triumph of British sovereignty, faith
and love. Merlin waves his wand; the scene changes, and discovers the
British Ocean in a storm. Aeolus in a cloud above: Four Winds hanging,
Ye blust'ring brethren of the skies,
Whose breath has ruffled all the wat'ry plain,
Retire, and let Britannia rise
In triumph o'er the main.
Serene and calm, and void of fear,
The Queen of Islands must appear.
Aeolus ascends, and the Four Winds fly off. The scene opens, and
discovers a calm sea, to the end of the house. An island arises, to a
soft tune; Britannia seated in the island, with fishermen at her feet,
etc. The tune changes; the fisher men come ashore, and dance a while;
after which, Pan and a Nereid come on the stage, and sing.
Round thy coast, fair nymph of Britain,
For thy guard our waters flow:
Proteus all his herd admitting
On thy green to graze below:
Foreign lands thy fish are tasting;
Learn from thee luxurious fasting.
Round thy coast, fair nymph of Britain, etc.
ALTO, TENOR, BASS
For folded flocks, and fruitful plains,
The shepherd's and the farmer's gains,
Fair Britain all the world outvies;
And Pan, as in Arcadia, reigns
Where pleasure mix'd with profit lies.
Tho' Jason's fleece was fam'd of old,
The British wool is growing gold;
No mines can more of wealth supply:
It keeps the peasants from the cold,
And takes for kings the Tyrian dye.
Enter Comus with peasants.
Your hay, it is mow'd and your corn is reap'd,
Your barns will be full and your hovels heap'd.
Come, boys, come,
Come, boys, come,
And merrily roar out our harvest home.
CHORUS OF PEASANTS
And merrily roar out our harvest home.
We've cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again,
For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?
One in ten, one in ten,
For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?
One in ten, one in ten,
For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?
For prating so long, like a book-learn'd sot,
Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to the pot:
Burnt to pot, burnt to pot,
Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to pot.
Burnt to pot, burnt to pot,
Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to the pot.
We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand;
And heigh for the honour of old England;
Old England, Old England,
And heigh for the honour of old England.
Old England, Old England,
And heigh for the honour of old England.
The dance varied into a round country-dance.
Fairest isle, all isles excelling,
Seat of pleasure and of love;
Venus here will choose her dwelling,
And forsake her Cyprian grove.
Cupid from his fav'rite nation,
Care and envy will remove;
Jealousy that poisons passion,
And despair that dies for love.
Gentle murmurs, sweet complaining,
Sighs that blow the fire of love;
Soft repulses, Kind disdaining,
Shall be all the pains you prove.
Ev'ry swain shall pay his duty,
Grateful ev'ry nymph shall prove;
And as these excel in beauty,
Those shall be renown'd for love.
You say, 'tis Love creates the pain,
Of which so sadly you complain,
And yet would fain engage my heart
In that uneasy cruel part;
But how, alas! think you that
I Can bear the wounds of which you die?
'Tis not my passion makes my care,
But your indiff'rence gives despair:
The lusty sun begets no spring
Till gentle show'rs assistance bring;
So Love, that scorches and destroys,
Till kindness aids, can cause no joys.
Love has a thousand ways to please,
But more to rob us of our ease;
For waking nights and careful days,
Some hours of pleasure he repays;
But absence soon, or jealous fears,
O'erflows the joy with floods of tears.
But one soft moment makes amends
For all the torment that attends.
Let us love, let us love and to happiness haste.
Age and wisdom come too fast.
Youth for loving was design'd.
I'll be constant, you be kind.
You be constant, I'll be kind.
Heav'n can give no greater blessing
Than faithful love and kind possessing.
Trumpet Tune (Warlike Consort)
The scene opens above, and discovers the Order of the Garter. Enter
Honour, attended by heroes.
Saint George, the patron of our Isle,
A soldier and a saint,
On this auspicious order smile,
Which love and arms will plant.
Our natives not alone appear
To court the martial prize;
But foreign kings adopted here
Their crowns at home despise.
Our Sov'reign high, 'in awful state,
His honours shall bestow;
and see his sceptred subjects wait
On his commands below.
miércoles, 11 de noviembre de 2015
My reputación en ResearchGate, según los últimos informes. Viene a ser un 7,2 sobre 10, me dicen. En otros sitios puntúo más. Y en otros menos: por ejemplo, en la liga de baloncesto.
Comentamos la teorización hegeliana de la intersubjetividad, o del ’Otro interiorizado’, en su relación con la teoría hegeliana de la acción, de la decisión, y de la perspectiva. La noción hegeliana de la alteridad interiorizada, aunque emparentada con el concepto cristiano de la conciencia, puede derivar de modo más directo, en su formulación intersubjetiva, del concepto del ’espectador desinteresado’ tal como es expuesta por Adam Smith en su ’Teoría de los sentimientos morales’.
Note: Downloadable document is in Spanish.
Number of Pages in PDF File: 4
Un modelo de neutralidad, Televisión Española: informa objetivamente de lo que hay, y aunque se inclina un poco del lado del gobierno, mantiene una prudente equidistancia entre la legalidad española y los sediciosos. Supongo que ateniéndose al razonamiento de que "todos son españoles (?) y sus puntos de vista son igualmente respetables (?)". Repitiendo religiosamente lo del "inicio del proceso solemne que bla bla bla." Ateniéndose a exponer los argumentos de ambas partes, con respeto para los razonamientos (?) de ambas partes. Es lo que hoy se lleva, al menos entre los más políticamente correctos. Y qué razonables aparecen los del PNV diciendo que ellos tienen su propio camino. Pues vamos bien como sigamos así.
Un musical de Bertolt Brecht y Kurt Weil, inspirado en The Beggar's Opera de John Gay. Aquí con los arreglos de la producción de 2004 dirigida por Ulrich Waller:
Handel. Giulio Cesare. Andreas Scholl (Giulio Cesare), Cecilia Bartoli (Cleopatra), Anne Sofie von Otter (Cornelia), Philippe Jaroussky (Sesto), Christophe Dumaux (Tolomeo), Ruben Drole (Achilla), Jochen Kowalsky (Nirena), Peter Kálman (Curio). Il Giardino Armonico / Giovanni Antonini. Stage dir. Moshe Leiser and Patrice Caurier. Live video from the Salzburger Pfingstfestspiele. YouTube 7 Oct. 2013.*
Tout le monde en parle : [émission du 25 mars 2006] Le dernier livre d'André GLUCKSMANN s'intitule "Une rage d'enfant". Assis aux côtés de Sandrine BONNAIRE, le philosophe raconte son enfance, ses parents juifs immigrés en Allemagne en 1930. En 1937, ils fuient l'Allemagne pour la France où né le petit André. Pendant l'occupation, les Glucksmann vivent dans la clandestinité. Il est raflé avec sa mère et ses soeurs, mais sauvé grâce à la rage de sa mère. Après la guerre, à 10 ans, il reste en France seul, sa mère étant retournée en Autriche. A 13 ans il adhère au PC qu'il quitte en 1956 pour devenir maoïste. Cette appartenance demeure une honte pour lui, la révolution chinoise étant la pire révolution du 20ème siècle. Dans son livre "La cuisinière et le mangeur d'homme", il comparera les totalitarismes nazi et communiste.Après un intermède musical repris par le public de l'émission, André GLUCKSMANN justifie son soutien à l'intervention américaine en Irak et son désaccord sur l'intervention russe en Tchétchénie.Il explique pourquoi il approuve la publication des caricatures de Mahomet (une opinion laissée à la liberté de chacun) mais contre les quolibets sur les chambres à gaz (un fait ayant existé). INTERVIEW RAGE :André GLUCKSMANN répond aux questions de Thierry ARDISSON sur :-sa rage de vivre ; de se coiffer; à propos de Jacques Chirac; de changer le monde; de vendre moins de livres que Bernard Henri Lévy; sur les jeunes filles "aux petits seins de bakélite" (il aime les petits et les gros seins); les SDF dans le métro; la place de la France dans le monde (la grande absente); Milosevic qui ne sera pas jugé; le fait qu'il doive mourir un jour, ses échecs auprès des femmes; qu'il soit considéré comme un vieux fou en colère.Il tire au hasard une carte qui lui demande de faire la promotion d'un autre livre que le sien. Il choisit "American Vertigo". Images d'archive INA Institut National de l'Audiovisuel
martes, 10 de noviembre de 2015
Esta semana pasada, en ResearchGate, he sido el autor más leído en Lingüística. No en mi universidad, sino en el mundo.
La semana que viene, posiblemente no. Pero quién sabe algo de la semana que viene.
viernes, 13 de noviembre de 2015
El ISIS o Daesh, que ha reivindicado los ataques terroristas de París, es una bandera pirata sin firma y sin cara. Pero quien sí tiene cara, y mucha, y se sabe quién es, y ha instigado estos ataques, es el Gran Mufti de Siria, cabeza visible de los islamistas terroristas.
Alain Touraine's innovative and polemical concept of historicity (in A New Paradigm), as well as the more traditional notions of historicity as the understanding of historical situatedness analyzed by Ferrater Mora and other authors, are compared and related to the notions of narrative mapping and narrative anchoring I have developed in a number of papers in evolutionary narrative. The definition of these concepts is further refined as their interface and borders are examined, in particular with reference to the opposition between nomothetic and idiographic modes of knowledge, and to the opposition between classes of events and individual events.
Note: Downloadable document is in Spanish.
Number of Pages in PDF File: 3
Una visión izquierdosa de esta "3ª Guerra Mundial" nos la daba (hace años, claro) Vázquez Montalbán—aquí con música de nuestro vicedecano en Una Ciudad para la Paz. Lo del centro como "ciudad abierta", claro, ya hay que corregirlo—so it goes.
domingo, 15 de noviembre de 2015
Micromotivos, retroalimentación, y fenómenos emergentes
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(From BOOK VIII - THE AUGUSTAN AGES )
Swift—His life—His verse—His prose—His quality and achievement—The Essayists—Steele—His plays—Addison’s life—His miscellaneous work—His and Steele’s Essays—Bentley—Middleton—Arbuthnot—Atterbury—Bolingbroke—Butler and other divines—Shaftesbury—Mandeville—Berkeley—Excellence of his style—Defoe.
JOHN DUNTON, the eccentric bookseller mentioned at the close of the last chapter, refers to a certain "scoffing Tubman," with whose identity neither he, extensive and peculiar as was his knowledge of literary London, nor almost any one else, was then acquainted. The reference is, of course, to the Tale of a Tub, published anonymously in 1704—the first great book, either in prose or verse, of the eighteenth century, and in more ways than one the herald and champion of its special achievements in literature. Jonathan Swift,1 its author, one of the very greatest names in English literature, was, like his connections Dryden and Herrick, a plant of no very early development. He had been born as far back as 1667, and his earlier literary productions had been confined to wretched Pindaric odes, some of them contributed to Dunton’s own papers, and drawing down upon him that traditional and variously quoted sentence of his great relative, "Cousin Swift, you will never be a [Pindaric] poet," which is said to have occasioned certain ill-natured retorts on Dryden later. Swift’s origin, like his character and genius, was purely English, but an accident caused him to be born in Dublin, and other accidents brought about his education in Ireland. His father died before his birth, and his mother was very poor: but his paternal uncle paid for his education at Kilkenny Grammar School and Trinity College, Dublin. He entered Trinity very early, in 1682, and seems to have been neither happy nor successful there, though there may have been less disgrace than has sometimes been thought in his graduation speciali gratia, and not by the ordinary way of right, in 1686.
He was still under twenty, and for some years found no better connection than a secretaryship in the house of his distant connection, Sir William Temple. In 1694 he went to Ireland, was ordained, and received a small living, but in two years returned to Temple, in whose house he met "Stella," Esther Johnson, his lifelong friend and, as seems most probable, latterly his wife. Temple died in 1699, leaving Swift a small legacy and his literary executorship. He once more returned to Ireland, acted as secretary to Lord-Deputy Berkeley, received some more small preferments, though not such as he wanted, and spent the first decade of the century at Laracor, his chief benefice, and London, where he was a sort of agent for the Archbishop of Dublin. He had all this time been a kind of Whig in politics, but with a strong dislike to Whig anti-clericalism and some other differences; and about 1710 he joined the new Tory party under Harley and St. John, and carried on vigorous war against the Whigs in The Examiner, though he did not break personal friendship with Addison and others. His inestimable services during the four last years of Queen Anne were rewarded only with the Deanery of Dublin—it is said owing to the Queen’s pious horror of the Tale of a Tub. Swift lived chiefly in Dublin, but with occasional visits to his friends in England, for more than thirty years longer, and the events of his life, the contests of "Vanessa" and "Stella" for his hand, or at least his heart, his interference with Irish politics, his bodily sufferings, and the end which, after five terrible years of madness, painful or lethargic, came in October 1745, are always interesting and sometimes mysterious. But we cannot dwell on them here, though they have more to do with his actual literary characteristics than is often the case. His dependency in youth, his long sojourn in lettered leisure, though in bitterness of spirit, with a household the master of which was a dilettante but a distinctly remarkable man of letters, his suppressed but evidently ardent affections, his disappointment when at last he reached fame and the chance of power, and his long residence, with failing health, in a country which he hated—all these things must be taken into account, though cautiously, in considering his work.
This [His work] is of very great bulk, and in parts of rather uncertain genuineness, for Swift was strangely careless of literary reputation, published for the most part anonymously, and, intense as is his idiosyncrasy, contrived to impress it on one or two of his intimate friends, notably on Arbuthnot. It consists of both verse and prose, but the former is rarely poetry and is at its best in easy vers de société, such as Cadenus and Vanessa (the record of his passion or fancy for Esther Vanhomrigh), "Vanbrugh’s House," the pieces to Harley and others, and above all, the lines on his own death; or else in sheer burlesque or grotesque, where he has seldom been equalled, as in the famous "Mrs. Harris’s Petition," and a hundred trifles, long and short, of the same general kind. Poetry, in the strict and rare sense, Swift seldom or never touches; his chief example of it—an example not absolutely authenticated, seeing that we only possess it as quoted by Lord Chesterfield—is a magnificent fragment about the Last Judgment. Here, and perhaps only here in verse, his characteristic indignation rises to poetic heat. Elsewhere he is infinitely ingenious and humorous in fanciful whim, and, sometimes at least, infinitely happy in expression of it, the pains which, do doubt partly owing to Temple’s influence and example, he spent upon correct prose-writing being here extended and reflected in verse. For Swift, although not pedantically, or in the sense of manuals of composition, a correct writer, is so in the higher and better sense to a very unusual degree; and we know that he was better sense to a very unusual degree; and we know that he was so deliberately. Several passages, especially one in the Tatler,2 express his views on the point, and his dislike at once of the other luxuriance which it was impossible for a man of his time to relish, and of the inroad of slovenly colloquialism which we have noticed in the last chapter.
Yet if Swift had been, like his patron, and perhaps in some sort exemplar, Temple, nothing more, or little more, than a master of form in prose, his prosition in literature would be very different from that which he actually holds. His first published prose piece, the Dissenssions of Athens and Rome (an application, according to the way of the times, to contempoarary politics), contains, except in point of style, nothing very noticeable. But the anonymous volume of 1704 is compact of very different stuff. The Battle of the Books, a contribution to the "Ancient and Modern" debate on Temple’s side and in Temple’s honour, is not supreme, though very clever, admirably written and arranged, and such as no Englishman recently living, save Butler and Dryden, could have written, while Butler would have done it with more clumsiness of form, and Dryden with less lightness of fancy. The Tale of a Tub has supremacy. It may be peremptorily asserted that irreligion is neither intended nor involved in it. For nearly two centuries the ferocious controversies, first between Rome and Protestantism, then between different bodies of Protestants, had entirely blinded men to the extreme danger that the rough handling which they bestowed upon their enemies would recoil on the religion which underlay those enemies’ beliefs as well as their own. Adn this, as well as the other danger of the excessive condemnation of "enthusiasm," was not seen till long after Swift’s death. But the satire on Peter (Rome), Jack (Calvinism, or rather the extremer Protestant sects generally), and Martin (Lutheranism and Anglicanism) displays an all-pervading irony of thought, and a felicity of expressing that irony, which had never been seen in English prose before. The irony, it must be added, goes, as far as things human are concerned, very deep and very wide, and its zigzag glances at politics, philosophy, manners, the hopes and desires and pursuits and pleasures and pains of man, leave very little unscathed. There is a famous and not necessarily false story that Swift, in his sad latter days, once exclaimed, in reference to the Tale, "What a genius I had when I wrote that book!" The exclamation, if made, was amply justified. The Tale of a Tub is one of the very greatest books of the world, one of those in which a great drift of universal thought receives consummate literary form.
The decade of his Whiggery (or, as it has been more accurately described, of his neutral state with Whig leanings) saw no great bulk of work, but some exquisite examples of this same irony in a lighter kind. This was the time of the charming Argument against Abolishing Christianity (1708) and of Swift’s contributions to the Tatler, which periodical indeed owed him a great deal more than the mere borrowing of the nom de guerre—Isaac Bickerstaffe—which he had used in a seris of ingenious persecutions of the almanack-maker, Partridge. The shorter period of Tory domination was very much more prolific in bulk of work, but except in the wonderful Journal to Stella (1710-13), which was never intended for any eye but hers (and the faithful "Dingley’s"), the literary interest is a littel inferior. The Examiners are of extraordinary force and vigour; the Remarks on the Barrier Treaty (1712), the Public Spirit of the Whigs (1714), and above all the Conduct of the Allies (1711), which Johnson so strangely decried, are masterly specimens of the political pamphlet. The largest work of this time, the History of the Four Last Years of Queen Anne, is sometimes regarded as doubtfully genuine, though there is no conclusive reason for ruling it out.
His very greatest prose work, however, dates from the last thirty years of his life, and especially from the third, fourth and firth lustres of this time, for the last was darkened by his final agony, and in the first decade he was too marked a man to venture on writing what might have brought upon him the exile of Atterbury or the prison of Harley and Prior. He began at once, however, a curious kind of Irish patriotism, which was in fact nothing but an English Fronde. In 1724 some jobbery about a new copper coinage in Ireland gave him a subject, and he availed himself of this in the Drapier’s Letters with almost miraculous skill; while two years later came the greatest of all his books, greater for method, range, and quiet mastery than even the Tale, that is to say Gulliver’s Travels. The short but consummate Modest Proposal for eating Irish children, the pair to the Argument against Abolishing Christianity, as a short example of the Swiftian irony, came in 1729; and the chief of his important works later were the delightful Polite Conversation (1738), probably written or at least begun much earlier, in which the ways and speeches of ordinary good society are reproduced with infinite humour and spirit, and the Directions to Servants, almost as witty, but more marked with Swift’s ugliest fault, a coarseness of idea and language, which seems rather the result of positive and individual disease than the survival of Restoration license.
His quality and achievement
There is no doubt that on the whole Swift’s peculiar powers, temper, and style are shown in his one generally known book as well as anywhere else. The absence of the fresher, more whimsical, and perhaps even deeper, irony and pessimism of the Tale of a Tub, and the loss of self-control indicated in the savage misanthropy of the Hoyhnhnms finale, are compensated by a more methodical and intelligible scheme, by the charm of narrative, by range and variety of subject, and by the abundance of little lively touches which that narrative suggests and facilitates. The mere question of the originality of the scheme is, as usual, one of the very slightest importance. Swift had predecessors, if he had not patterns, in Lucian and in scores of other writers down to and beyond Cyrano de Bergerac. The idea, indeed, of combining the interest and novelty of foreign travel with an obvious satire on "travellers’ tales," and a somewhat less obvious one on the follies, vices, and contrasted foibles of mankind, is not beyond tthe range of an extremely moderate intellect, and could never be regarded as the property or copyright even of the greatest. It is the astonishing vigour and variety of Swift’s dealing with this public stuff that craves notice: and twenty times the space here available would be too little to do justice to that. The versatility with which the picture—it can hardly even at its worst be called the caricature—of mankind is adjusted to the different meridians of the little people the giants, the pedants, the unhappy inmortals, and the horses—the dexterous relief of the satirists’ lash with the mere tickling of the humourist—the wonderful prodigality of power and the more wonderful economy of words and mere decorations—all these things deserve the most careful study, and the most careful study will not in the least intefere with, but will only enhance, the perpetual enjoyment of them.
It only remains to point out very briefly the suitableness of the style to the work. Swift’s style is extremely unadorned, though the unfailing spirit of irony prevents it from being, exept to the most poor and unhappy tastes, in the very least degree flat. Though not free from grammatical licenses, it is on the whole corret enough, and is perfectly straightforward and clear. There may be a very different meaning lurking by way of innuendo behind Swift’s literal and grammatical sense, but that sense itself can never be mistaken. Further, he has—unless he deliberately assumes them as the costumes of a part he is playing—absolutely no distinguishing tricks or manners, no catchwords, and in especial no unusual phrases or vocables either imitated or invented. In objecting to neologisms, as he did very strongly, he was perhaps critically in the wrong; for a language which ceases to grow dies. But, like some, though by no means all, similar objectors, he has justified his theory by his practice. In fact, if intellectual genius and literary art be taken together, no prose-writer, who is a prose-writer mainly, is Swift’s superior, and a man might be hard put to it to say who among such writers in the plainer English can be pronounced his equal.
It has been sid that it is hard to settle the credit of the invention of the Queen Anne Essay, in which the characteristic of the later Augustan period was chiefly shown. For years before it appeared, the essay-writers, from Bacon to Temple on the one hand, and the journalists, of whom the most remarkable were mentioned at the close of the last chapter, on the other, had been bearing down nearr and nearer to this particular point. The actual starting is usually assigned to the Review of a greater than any of these journalists, Daniel Defoe, who will, however, find a more suitable place later in this chapter. And it is noteworthy that Swift, whose fertility in ideas was no less remarkable than the nonchalance with which he abandoned them or sugggested them to his friends, was most intimate with Steele and Addison just at the time of the appearance of the Tatler, lent it a nom de guerre, wrote for it, and may in different metaphors be said to have given it inspiration, atmosphere, motive power, launch. But it was undoubtedly set agoing under the management of another person, Steele, and he need not be deprived of the honour.
Richard Steele was born in Dublin in March 1672, but he had little to do with Ireland afterwards. His school was the Charterhouse, and from it he went to Merton College at Oxford, where he was postmaster. But though he made some stay at the University he took no degree, and left it for the army, beginning as a cadet or gentlemen volunteer in the second Life Guards, whence he passed as an ensign to the Coldstreams and as a captain to Lucas’s foot. He became Gazetteer in 1707, and a little later engaged, with more zeal than discretion, in Whig politics, being expelled from the House of Commons in the turbulent last years of Anne. The success of the Hanoverians restored him to fortune, or the chance of it, and he was knighted and made patentee of Drury Lane. But he was always a spendthrift and a speculator, and in his later years he had to retire to an estate which his second wife (an heiress in Wales as the first had been in the West Indies) had brougth him near Caermarthen. He died there in 1729. His letters and even his regular works tell us a great deal about his personality, which, especially as contrasted with that of Addison, has occasioned much writing.
Steele’s desertion of the University for the army might not seem to argue a devotion to the Muses. But he began3 while still a soldier by a book of devotion, The Christian Hero (1701), and it was not in him, whatever it might have been in another, at all inconsistent to turn to play-writing, in which occupation he observed, though not excessively, the warnings of Jeremy Collier. The Tatler (1709) opened his true vein, and in it, in the Spectator, in the Guardian, in the Englishman, Lover, and other periodicals, he displayed a faculty for miscellany more engaging, though much less accomplished, than Addison’s own. In the political articles of this series, and still more in his political pamphlets, he is at his worst, for he had no argumentative faculty, and was utterly at the mercy of such an opponent as Swift. The Conscious Lovers, his most famous play, was late (1722) and is distinguished, amid the poor plays between Farquhar and Sheriden, for its mixture of briskness and amiability. There was a third ingredient, sentimentality, which is indeed sufficiently prominent in Steele’s earlier comedies, The Funeral (1701), The Lying Lover (1703), and The Tender Husband (1705), and by no means absent from his essays. But, with a little allowance, it adds to these latter a charm which, though it may be less perceptible to later generations than it was to those who had sickened at the ineffable brutality of the time immediately preceding, can still be felt.
Of the plays, though all endeavor to carry out Collier’s principles, The Conscious Lovers is the only one which deserves Fielding’s raillery, through Parson Adams, as to its being "as good as a sermon," which Hazlitt has rather unfairly extended to all. Even The Conscious Lovers contains, in the scenes between Tom and Phyllis, pictures of flirtation belowstaires shich, with all Steele’s tenderness and good feeling, have nearly as much vivacity as any between the most brazen varlets and baggages of the Restoration dramatists. The Lying Lover, an adaptation of Le Menteur, is of no great merit, perhaps because it also has a slight tendency to sermonising. But The Funeral, though very unnatural in plot and decidedly unequal in character, contains a famous passage of farcical comedy between an undertaker and his mates, and a good though rascally lawyer. The most uniformly amusing of the four is The Tender Husband, though the appropriateness of the title is open to question. The pair of innocents, the romantic heiress Biddy Tipkin and the clumsy heir Humphry Gubbin, are really diverting, and in the first case to no small extent original; while they have furnished hints to no less successors than Fielding, Goldsmith, Sheridan, and Miss Austen. The lawyer and the gallant are also distinctly good, and the aunt has again furnished hints for Mrs. Malaprop, as Biddy has for Lydia. Steele, who always confessed, and probably as a rule exaggerated, his debts to Addison, acknowledges them here; and there is a certain Addisonian tone about some of the humours, though Steele was quite able to have supplied them. Fond as he was of the theatre, however, and familiar with it, he had little notion of constructing a play, and his morals constantly tripped up his art. The essay, not the drama, was his real field.
The almost inextricable entanglement of the work of Steele with Addison’s, and the close connection of the two in life, have always occasioned a set of comparison, not to the advantage of one, now to that of the other, in literary history; and there is probably more loss than gain in the endeavour to separate them sternly. We may therefore best give Addison’s life, and such short sketch of his books as is possible now, and then consider together the work, still in parts not very clearly attributable to one more than to the other, which gives them, and must always give them, an exalted place in English literature.
Joseph Addison4 was born, like Steele, in 1672, but in May instead of March. His father, Lancelot Addison, was a divine of parts and position, who became Dean of Lichfield. His mother’s name was Jane Gulston. After experience of some country schools, at one of which he is said to have shared in a "barring-out," he, like Steele, went to the Charterhouse and then to Oxford, where he was first at Queen’s then at Magdalen, holding a demyship, taking his Master’s degree in 1693, and being elected to a Fellowship in 1697, at the latter college, where "Addison’s Walk" preserves his name. He made early acquaintance with Dryden, but adopted Whig politics; and, by the influence of Montague, obtained in 1699 a travelling pension of £300 a year. He discharged the obligation loyally, remaining four years abroad, visiting most parts of the Continent, and preparing, if not finishing, his only prose works of bulk, the Remarks on Italy (1704) and the Dialogues on Medals, not published till later. But when he came back in 1703, Halifax was out of favour, his pension was stopped, and, having broken off his University career by his failure to take orders, he was for some time in doubtful prospects. But his poem of The Campaign, in which he celebrated Blenheim (1704), with one fine passage and a good deal of platitude, gained high reputation in the dearth of poetical accomplishment, and the short summer of favour for men of letters, which followed Dryden’s death; and he was made a Commissioner of Excise.
This was the first of a long series of appointments, official and diplomatic, which was not, thanks to Swift, entirely interrupted even during the Tory triumph, and which enabled Addison, who had been in 1703 nearly penniless, to lay out, in 1711, £10,000 on an estate in Warwickshire. It culminated in 1717, after the Hanoverian triumph, by his being appointed Secretary of State, which office he held but a short time, resigning it for a large pension. He had a year before married the Countess Dowager of Warwick, and he died of dropsy at Holland House in 1719, aged only forty-seven. His character has been discussed, not with acrimony, for no one can dislike Addison, but with some heat. He had none of the numerous foibles of which Steele was guilty, except a rather too great devotion to wine. But the famous and magnificent "Character of Atticus," by Pope, is generally supposed by all but partisans to be at best a poisoned dart, which hit true. His correct morality —the Bohemian philosopher Mandeville called him "a parson in a tie-wig"—has been set down to cold-bloodedness, and there has even been noticeable dissension about the relative amount of literary genius in him and in Steele.
His miscellaneous work
As noticed already, Addison’s literary work outside periodicals is by no means small. His early Latin poems are very clever, and very happy in their artificial way. Of his English verse nothing has survived, except his really beautiful hymns, where the combination of sincere religious feelings (of the sincerity of Addison’s religion there is absolutely no doubt, though it was of a kind now out of fashion) and of critical restraint produced things of real, though modest and quiet, excellence. "The Lord my pasture shall prepare," "The spacious firmament on high," and "How are thy servants blest! O Lord," may lack the mystical inspiration of the greatest hymns, but their cheerful piety, their graceful use of images, which, though common, are never mean, their finish and even, for the time, their fervour make them singularly pleasant. The man who wrote them may have had foibles and shortcomings, but he can have had no very grave faults, as the authors of more hysterical and glowing compositions easily might.
The two principal prose works are little read now, but they are worth reading. They show respectable learning (with limitations admitted by such a well-qualified and well-affected critic as Macaulay), they are excellent examples (though not so excellent as the Essays) of Addison’s justly famous prose, and they exhibit, in the opening of the Medals and in all the descriptive passages of the Italy, the curious insensibility of the time to natural beauty, or else its almost more curious inability to express what it felt, save in the merest generalities and commonplaces.
The three plays at least indicate Addison’s possession, though in a much less degree, of his master Dryden’s general faculty of literary craftsmanship. The opera of Rosamond is, indeed, clearly modelled on Dryden in its serious parts, but is no great success there. The lighter and more whimsical quality of Addison’s humour enabled him to do better in the farcical passages, which, especially in the speeches of Sir Trusty, sometimes have a singularly modern and almost Gilbertian quality to them. The comedy of The Drummer, where a Wiltshire tradition is used to make a play on a theme not entirely different from Steele’s Funeral (in each a husband is thought to be dead when he is not), contains, like Steele’s own pieces, some smart "words," but no very good dramatic situation or handling. It is, also like Steele’s, an attempt to write Restoration drama in the fear of Jeremy Collier. Cato, the most famous, is at this time of day by far the least interesting. Its universally known stock-pieces give almost all that it has of merit in versification and style; as a drama it has an uninteresting plot, wooden characters, and a great absence of life and idiosyncrasy.
His and Steele’s Essays
It is very different when we turn to the Essays. The so-called Essay which Steele launched in the Tatler, which was taken up and perfected in the Spectator, which had numerous immediate followers, and a succession of the greatest importance at intervals throughout the century, and which at once expressed and influenced the tone and thought of that century after a fashion rarely paralleled, was not originally started in quite the form which it soon assumed, and never, for the greater part of a hundred years, wholly lost. Naturally enough, Steele at first endeavoured to make it a newspaper, as well as a miscellany and review. But by degrees, and before very long, news was dropped, and comment, in the form of special essays, of "letters to the editor," sometimes real, oftener manufactured, of tales and articles of all the various kinds which have subsisted with no such great change till the present day, reigned alone. As Addison’s hand prevailed—though literature, religion, and even politics now and then, the theatre very often, and other things were not neglected—the main feature of the two papers, and especially of the Spectator, became a kind of light but distinctlyfirm censorship of manners, especially the part of them nearest to morals, and of morals, especially the part of them nearest to manners. Steele, always zealous and always generous, but a little wanting in criticism, not infrequently diverged into sentimentality. Addison’s
tendency, though he, too, was unflinchingly on virtue’s side, was rather towards a very mellow and not unindulgent but still quite distinctly cynical cynicism—a smile too demure ever to be a grin, but sometimes, except on religious subjects, faintly and distantly approaching a sneer. This appears even in the most elaborate and kindly of the imaginative creations of the double series, Sir Roger de Coverley, whom Steele indeed seems to have invented, but whom Addison adopted, perfected, and (some, perhaps without reason, say) even killed out of kindness, lest a less delicate touch should take the bloom out of him. This great creation, which comes nearer than anything out of prose fiction or drama to the masterpieces of the novelists and dramatists, is accompanied by others hardly less masterly; while Addison is constantly, and Steele not seldom, has sketches or touches as perfect in their way, though less elaborate. It is scarcely too much to say that these papers, and especially the Spectator, taught the eighteenth century ho it should, and especially how it should not, behave in public places, from churches to theatres; what books it should like, and how it should like them; how it should treat its lovers, mistresses, husbands, wives, parents, and friends; that it might politely sneer at operas, and must not take any art except literature too seriously; that a moderate and refined devotion to the Protestant religion and the Hanoverian succession was the duty, though not the whole duty, of a gentleman.It is still a little astonishing to find with what docility the century obeyed and learnt its lesson. Addison died a little before, Steele not much after, its first quarter closed; et in the lighter work of sixty or seventy years later we shall find, with the slightest differences of external fashion, the laws of the Spectator held still by "the town" with hardly a murmur, by the country without the slightest hesitation. In particular, those papers taught the century how to write; and the lesson was accepted on this point with almost more unhesitating obedience than on any other. The magnificent eulogy of Johnson, who had himself deviated not a little, though perhaps unconsciously, from Addisonian practice, would have been disputed by hardly any one who reached manhood in England between the Peace of Utrecht and the French Revolution; and, abating its exclusiveness a little, it remains true still.
Steele, though he has some rarer flights than his friend, is much less correct, and much less polished; while, though he had started with equal chances, his rambling life had stored him with far less learning than Addison possessed. The latter, while he never reached the massive strength and fiery force of Swift, did even more than Swift himself to lift English prose out of the rut, or rather quagmire, of colloquialism and slovenliness in which, as we have seen, it was sinking. He could even though he rarely did, rise to a certain solemnity—caught, it may be, from Temple, who must have had much influence on him. But, like Temple’s, though with a more modern, as well as a more varied and completely polished, touch, his style was chiefly devoted to the "middle" subjects and manners. He very rarely attempts sheer whimsical fooling. But he can treat all the subjects that come within the purview and interests of a well-bred man of this world, who by no means forgets the next, in a style quite inimitable in its golden mediocrity—well-informed, without being in the least pedantic; moral, without direct preaching (unless he gives forewarning); slightly superior, but with no provoking condescensioin in it; polite, without being frivolous or finicking; neat, but not overdressed; easy, but, as Johnson justly states, never familiar in any offensive degree. It is easier to feel enthusiasm about Steele, who had so much, than about Addison, who at any rate shows so little; and on the character, the genius, the originality, of the two there may always be room for dispute. But it seems incredible that any one should deny to Addison the credit of being by far the greater artist, and of having brought his own rather special, rather limited, but peculiar and admirable division of art to a perfection seldom elsewhere attained in letters. These three greatest writers were surrounded by others hardly less than great. Arbuthnot, Atterbury, Bentley, Bolingbroke, Mandeville, the younger Shaftesbury, Berkeley, Butler, Middleton, were all either actual contributors to the great periodical series, or intimately connected with those who wrote these, or (which is of equal importance to us) at any rate exponents of the extremely plain prose style, which required the exquisite concinnity of Addison, the volcanic and Titanic force and fire of Swift, or the more than Attic stateliness and grace of Berkeley, to sabe it from being too plain. The order in which they are to be mentioned is unimportant, and few can have more than very brief space, but none must pass unnoticed.
Richard Bentley, a very great classical scholar, and no mean writer of English, was a Yorkshire man, born in 1662, and educated at Wakefield. He went early to St. John’s College, Cambridge, was taken as a private tutor into the household of Stillingfleet, took orders not very early, was made King’s Librarian in 1694, engaged, and was completely victorious, in the Ancient and Modern Controversy, especially in reference to the Epistles of Phalaris; was made Master of Trinity in 1699, and passed nearly the whole of his more than forty years of mastership, till his death in 1742, in a desperate struggle with his college, wherein, if his adversaries were unscrupulous, he was no less so, while the right was on the whole rather against him, though his bull-dog tenacity has won most commentators on the matter to his side. There is at any rate no doubt of his learning, his logical power, and his very real, though gruff and horseplayful, humour. To merely English literature he stands6 in two very different relations. His almost incredibly absurd emendations on Milton would, if the thing were not totally alien from the spirit of the man, seem like a designed parody on classical scholarship itself. But his writing, especially in the famous Phalaris dissertation, and in the remarks of the Deist Collins, is extraordinarily vigorous and vivid. His birth-date, probably even more than a design to avoid the reproach of pedantry, made him colloquial, homely, and familiar down to the very level from which Swift and Addison tried to lift, and to a great extent succeeded in lifting prose; but his native force and his wide learning save him, though sometimes with difficulty, from the merely vulgar.
Conyers Middleton, Bentley’s most deadly enemy, was, like Bentley, a Yorkshireman, but was much younger, having been born at Richmond in 1683. He went to Trinity young, and was not only a Fellow thereof, but connected throughout his life with Cambridge, by his tenure of the offices of University Librarian from 1722 onwards, and Woodwardian Professor of Geology for a time. He was a man of property, was thrice married, and held several livings till his death in 1750, though his orthodoxy was, in his own times and afterwards, seriously impugned.
This does not concern us here, though it may be observed that Middleton may be cleared from anything but a rather advanced stage of the latitudinarianism and dislike of "enthusiasm" which was generally felt by the men of his time, and which invited—indeed necessitated—the Evangelical and Methodist revolt. So, too, we need not busy ourselves much with the question whether he directly plagiarised, or only rather breely borrowed from the Scotch Latinist, Bellenden, in his longest and most famous prose work, the Life of Cicero (1741). Besides this, he wrote two controversial works of length—ostensibly directed against Popery, certainly against extreme supernaturalism, and, as his enemies will have it, covertly against Christianity—entitled A Letter from Rome, showing an exact Conformity between Popery and Paganism (1729), and A Free Inquiry into the Miraculous Powers which are supposed to have existed in the Christian Church (1748); with a large number of small pamphlets on a variety of subjects, in treating which he showed wide culture and intelligence. His place here, however, is that of the most distinguished representative of the absolutely plain style—not colloquial and vernacular like Bentley’s, but on the other hand attempting none of the graces which Addison and Berkeley in their different ways achieved—a style more like the plainer Latin or French styles than like anything else in English.
John Arbuthnot,8 the "moon" of Swift, born 1667, came of the noble family of that name in Kincardineshire, but went to Oxford, and spent all the latter part of his life in London, where he was physician to Queen Anne, a strong Tory, and an intimate friend of Swift and Pope. He died in 1735, much respected and beloved. Arbuthnot’s literary fate, or rather the position which he deliberately chose, was peculiar. It is very difficult to identify much of his work, and what seems certainly his (especially the famous History of John Bull and The Memoirs of Scriblerus) is exceedingly like Swift, and was pretty certainly produced in concert with that strange genius, who, unlike some animals, never took colour from his surroundings, but always gave them his own. It is, however, high enough praise that Arbuthnot, at the best of his variable work, is not inferior to anything but the very best of Swift. There is the same fertility and the same unerringness of irony; and, if we can distinguish, it is only that a half or wholly good-natured amusement takes the place of Swift’s indignation.
Francis Atterbury,9 born in Buckinghamshire in 1672, a distinguished Christ Church man, who, after being head of his house, obtained the bishopric of Rochester and the Deanery of Westminster in succession to Sprat, was the divine and scholar of the extreme Tory party, as Arbuthnot was their man of science. He has been accused not merely of conspiring after the Hanoverian succession, but of denying it, and sailing too near perjury in this denial. Of this there is no sufficient proof, and we must remember that the political ethics of the age were extremely accomodating. He was at any rate attained, and banished (in 1723) to France, where he died nine years later. A brilliant and popular preacher, a pleasant letter-writer, a most dangerous controversialist and debater, and a good critic (though he made the usual mistakes of his age about poetry before Waller), Atterbury wrote in a style not very unlike Addison’s, though inferior to it.
The huge contemporary fame of Henry St. John, Viscount Bolingbroke,10 and its rapid and lasting decline after his death, are among the commonplaces of literary history. He was born in 1678, passed through Eton and Christ Church, entered Parliament very early, was Secretary for War at six-and-twenty, climbed with Harley to power, and contrived to edge his companion "out," but remained "in" himself only a few days, fled to the Continent, returned to England and recovered his estates, but not his seat in Parliament, in 1723, organised and carried out the English Fronde against Walpole, and died in 1751. His career—for he was as famous for "wildness" as for success—was one of those which specially appeal to the vulgar, and are not uninteresting even to unvulgar tastes. He was beyond question one of the greatest orators of his day, and he was extravagantly praised by his friends, who happened to include the chief poet and the greatest prose writer of the time. Yet hardly any one who for generations has opened the not few volumes of his works has closed them without more or less than profound disappointment. Bolinbroke, more than any other English writer, is a rhetorician pure and simple; and it was his misfortune, first, that the subjects of his rhetoric were not the great and perennial subjects, but puny ephemeral forms of them—the partisan and personal politics of his day, the singularly shallow form of infidelity called Deism, and the like—and, secondly, that his time deprived him of many, if not most, of the rhetorician’s most telling weapons. The Letter to Windham (1716), a sort of apologia, and the Ideal of a Patriot King (1749) exhibit him at his best.
Butler and Other Divines
Benjamin Hoadly (1676-1761), a pluralist courtier, and more than doubtfully orthodox divine on the Whig side, held four sees in succession, in one at least of which he was the cause of much literature, or at least many books, by provoking the famous "Bangorian" controversy. He himself wroter clearly and well. Nor can the same praise be denied to Samuel Clarke (1675-1729) philosopher, physicist, and divine. There is more diversity of opinion about the purely literary merites, as distinguished from the unquestioned claims in religious philosophy, of Bishop Joseph Butler, who was born at Wantage in 1692, left Nonconformity for the Church, went to Oriel, became preacher at the Rolls Chapel, Rector of Stanhope, Bishop of Bristol, Dean of St. Paul’s, and, lastly, Bishop of Durham, owing these appointments to no cringing or intrigue, but to his own great learning, piety, wisdom, and churchmanship, fortunately backed by Queen Caroline’s fancy for philosophy. Butler’s Sermons, published in 1726, and his Analogy of Natural and Revealed Religion ten years later, occasionally contain aphorisms of beauty equal to their depth; but it is too much to claim "crispness and clearness" for his general style,11 which is, on the contrary, too often obscure and tough.
Anthony Ashley Cooper, Earl of Shaftesbury, the third of his names and title, the grandson of "Achitophel," and the son of the "shapeless lump" (a phrase for which he never forgave Dryden), was born in 1671. His mother was Lady Dorothy Manners. He was brought up partly by a learned lady, and partly by Locke. He was for three years at Winchester, went to no University , and travelled a good deal abroad. He sat for a short time in the House of Commons, but made no figure there or in the House of Lords, where, during nearly the whole time of his tenure of the earldom (1699-1713), politics, whether Whig or Tory, were of too rough a cast for his dilettantism. He died, after more foreign travel, in 1713. His writings, scattered and not extensive, had been collected two years before as Characteristics of Men, Manners, Opinions, Times.12 Shaftesbury was an original and almost powerful thinker and writer, spoilt by an irregular education, a sort of morbid aversion from English thought generally, an early attack of Deism, and a strong touch of affectation. Much harm has been done to him by Lamb’s description of his style as "genteel," a word in Lamb’s time and later not connoting the snobbishness which has for half a century been associated with it. "Superfine," the usual epithet, is truer; though Dr. George Cambpell, an excellent critic, was somewhat too severe13 on Shaftesbury’s Gallicisms, and his imprudent and rather amateurish engagement in the Deist controversy of the time caused him to be broken a little too ruthlessly on the wheel, adamantine in polish as in strength, of Berkeley in Alciphron. His central doctrine, that ridicule is the test of truth, as well as his style, are in reality caricatures of Addison, though the dates preclude any notion of plagiarism. He is full of suggestion, and might have been a great thinker and writer.
Shaftesbury’s superfineness and his optimism seem to have had at least a considerable share in provoking the cynical pessimism of another remarkable thinker of this time, Bernard Mandeville, or de Mandeville,14 a Dutchman, born at Dordrecht about 1670, who came early to London, attained a singular mastery in English, practised physic, and died in 1733. There is some mystery, and probably some mystification, about the origin of The Grumbling Hive, better known by its later title of The Fable of the Bees. No edition earlier than 1705 is known, but Mandeville claimed a much earlier date for it. About nine years later a reprint, in 1714, drew attention, and after yet another nine years another was "presented" by the Grand Jury of Middlesex, and fiercely denounced by men of such importance as law and Berkeley. The book, which was constantly enlarged, is in its final form a cluster of prose tractates, with a verse nucleus (the original piece) showing how vice made some bees happy, and virtue made them miserable. A good deal of other work, some certainly and some probably spurious, is attributed to Mandeville, who is the Diogenes of English philosophy. An exceedingly charitable judgment may impute to deliberate paradox, and to irritation at Shaftesbury’s airy gentility, his doctrine that private vices are public benefits; but the gusto with which he caricatures and debases everything pure and noble and of good report is, unluckily, too genuine. He thought, however, with great force and acuteness, despite his moral twist; he had a strong, fertile, and whimsical humour; and his style, plebeian as it is, may challenge comparison with the most famous literary vernaculars in English for racy individuality.
If, however, Shaftesbury has rather too much of the peacock, and Mandeville a great deal too much of the polecat, about him, no depreciatory animal comparison need be sought or feared for George Berkeley, the best-praised man of his time, and among the most deserving of praise. He was born in 1685 near Kilkenny, and was educated first, like swift and Congreve earlier, at its famous grammar school, and then at Trinity College, Dublin, where he made a long residence, and wrote his chief purely philosophical works. In 1713 he went to London , and was introduced to the wits by Swift, after which he travelled on the Continent for several years. He was made Dean of Derry in 1724, went with missionary schemes, which were defeated, to North America, but returned, in 1731, and published the admirable dialogues of Alciphron. He was made Bishop of Cloyne in 1714, and for eighteen years resided in his diocese. A few months before his death, in 1753, he had gone, in bad health, to Oxford, and he died there.
Berkeley’s principal works,15 or groups of works, are first—The Theory of Vision (1709), The Principles of Human Knowledge (1710), and the Dialogues of Hylas [Materialist] and Philonous [partisan of mind], in which, continuing the Lockian process of argument against innate ideas, he practically re-established them by a further process of destruction, and brought down on himself a great deal of very ignorant attack or banter for his supposed denial of matter. The above-mentioned Alciphron; or, the Minute Philosopher, is a series of dialogues, in which the popular infidelity of the day, whether optimist like Shaftesbury’s, pessimistical like Mandeville’s, or one-sidedly critical like that of the Deists proper, is attacked in a fashion which those who sympathise with the victims accuse of occasional unfairness, but which has extraordinay cogency as polemic, and extraordinary brilliance as literature. His last important work was Siris, and odd miscellany, advocating tar-water for the body, and administering much excellent mysticism to the soul; but he wrote some minor things, and a good many letters, diaries, etc., which were not fully published till the later years of the present century [19th].
Excellence of his style
Unusually good as a man, and unusually great as a philosopher, Berkeley would have stood in the first rank as a mere writer had his character been bad or unknown, and the matter of his writings unimportant. The charm of his style is at once so subtle and so pervading that it is extremely difficult to separate and define it. He has no mannerisms; although he is a most accomplished ironist, he does not depend upon irony for the seasoning of his style, as, in different ways, do Addison and Swift; he can give the plainest and most unadorned exposition of an abstruse, philosophical doctrine with perfect literary grace. And (as, for instance, in Lysicles’ version of Mandeville’s vices-and-benefits argument) he can saturate a long passage with satiric innuendo, never once breaking out into direct tirade or direct burlesque. He can illustrate admirably, but he is never the dupe of his illustrations. He is clearer even than Hobbes and infinitely more elegant, while his dialect and arrangement, though originally arrived at for argumentative purposes, or at least in argumentative works, are equally suited for narrative, for dialogue, for description, for almost every literary end. Were it not for the intangibleness, and therefore the inimitableness, of his style, he would be an even better general model than Addison; and, as it is, he is unquestionably the best model in English, if not in any language, for philsoophical, and indeed for argumentative, writing generally.
Daniel Defoe,16 the link between the great essayists of the earlier and the great novelists of the middle years of the eighteenth century—one of the most voluminous and problematical of English writers, as well as one of all but the greatest—a man, too, of very questionable life and character—could not be fully discussed in any compendious history of English literature. But luckily it is by no means necessary that he should be so discussed, the strictly literary lines of his work being broad and clear, and the problems both of it and of his life being such as may, without any loss, be left to the specialist. He was born, it would seem, in 1659 (not , as used to be though, 1661) in the heart of London, St. Giles’s, Cripplegate, where his father (whose name was certainly Foe) was a butcher. It is not known for what reason or cause Daniel, when more than fifty, assumed the "de," sometimes as separate particle, sometimes in composition. He was well educated, but instead of becoming a Nonconformist minister, took to trade, which at intervals and in various forms (stocking-selling, tile-making, etc.) he pursued with no great luck. He seems to have been a partaker in Monmouth’s rebellion, and was certainly a good deal abroad in the later years of the seventeenth century, but he early took to the vocation of pamphleteering, which, with journalism and novel-writing, gave his three great literary courses. The chief among the many results of this was the famous Shortest Way with the Dissenters (1702), a statement of the views of the extreme "Highflying" or High Church party, in which some have seen irony, but which really is the exact analogue in argument of his future fictions, that is to say, an imitation of what he wanted to represent so close that it looks exactly like fact. He was prosecuted, fined, pilloried, and imprisoned, but in the growing Whig temper of the nation, the piece was undoubtedly very effective.
For the greater part of the reign of Queen Anne, and at first in prison, Defoe carried on, from 1704 to 1713, his famous Review, the prototype to some extent of the great later periodicals, but written entirely by himself. Before he had been long in prison he was liberated by Harley, of whose statesmanship, shifting in method, and strangely compounded of Toryism and Whiggery in principle, Defoe became a zealous secret agent. He had a great deal to do with negotiating the Union with Scotland. Nor did Harley’s fall put an end to his engagement in subterranean branches of the public service; for it has long been known that under the House of Hanover he discharged the delicate, or indelicate, part ofa Tory journalist, secretly paid by the Whig Government to tone down and take the sting out of Mist’s Journal and other opposition papers. He lived for a good many years longer, and did his best literary work in his latest period; but at the last he experienced some unexplained revolution of fortune, and died at Moorfields, in concealment and distress, in 1731.
Of Defoe’s, in the strictest sense, innumerable works the following catalogue of the most importan may serve: —Essay on Projects (1698), an instance of the restless tendency of the time towards commercial and social improvements, and of Defoe’s own fertility; The True-Born Englishman (1701), an argument in vigorous though most unpoetical verse to clear William from the disability of his foreign origin; the Hymn to the Pillory (1703), composed on the occasion of his exhibition in that implement, still more vigorous and a little less unpoetical; the curious political satire of the Consolidator (1705); the masterly Relation of Mrs. Veal, the first instance of his wonderful "lies like truth"; Jure Divino (1706), worse verse and also worse sense than The True-Born Englishman. But the best of these is poor compared with the great group of fiction of his later years — Robinson Crusoe (1719), Duncan Campbell, Memoirs of a Cavalier, and Captain Singleton (all produced in 1720), Moll Flanders, the History of the Plague, and Colonel Jack (all in 1722), Roxana (1724), and A New Voyage Round the World (1725). Besides these, he published in his later years, as he had in his earlier, a crowd of works, small and great, political, topographical, historical, moral, and miscellaneous.
It is not of much use to discuss Defoe’s moral character, and it is sincerely to be hoped that no more revelations concerning it will turn up, inasmuch as each is more damaging than the last, except to those, who have succeeded in taking his true measure once for all. It is that of a man who, with no high, fine, or poetical sentiment to save him, shared to the full the partisan enthusiasm of his time, and its belief that all was fair in politics. His literary idiosyncrasy is more comfortable to handle. He was a man of extraordinary industry and versatility, who took an interest, subject to the limitations of his temperament, in almost everything, whose brain was wonderfully fertile, and who had a style, if not of the finest or most exquisite, singularly well suited to the multifarious duties to which he put it. Also, he could give, as hardly even Bunyan had given before him, and as nobody has since, absolute verisimilitude to fictitious presentations. He seems to have done this mainly by a certain chameleon-like faculty of assuming the atmosphere and colour of his subject, and by a cunning profusion of exactly suited and selected detail. It is enough that in Robinson Crusoe he has produced, by help of this gift, a book which is, throughout its first two parts, one of the great books of the world in its particular kind; and that parts of Moll Flanders, Captain Singleton, and Colonel Jack, at least, are not inferior. Further, the "lift" which Defoe gave to the novel was enormous. He was still dependent on adventure; he did not advance mucho, if at all, beyond the more prosaic romantic scheme. But the extraordinary verisimilitude of his action could not but show the way to the last step that remained to be taken, the final projection of character.
Number of Pages in PDF File: 19
Keywords: Narrative, Narratology, Narrative analysis, Structuralism, Discourse analysis, Literary theory, Narrative fiction
|eJournal Classifications: Date posted: November 11, 2015|
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Un libro donde se me cita:
(Foto e información que cojo del Facebook de Sonia):
1ª BECA DE ESTUDIOS EN INGLES
ANGEL GARCIA POMAR
Hoy se ha realizado la presentación y entrega a los alumnos de la “1ª beca de estudios en inglés ANGEL GARCIA POMAR” para los estudiantes matriculados durante el curso académico 2015-2016 en la sección de primaria del CRA DE BIESCAS.
La beca se convoca en homenaje a D ANGEL GARCIA POMAR maestro de la escuela de Biescas durante 39 años y precursor de la enseñanza de los idiomas en el Centro así como de los intercambios de alumnos con colegios franceses.
De la convocatoria han resultado becados 10 niños.
La convocatoria surgió con el espíritu tanto de premiar a los niños que obtienen buenos resultados académicos, como de facilitar a los estudiantes que precisan por otros motivos (menores recursos familiares / familias numerosas…), la posibilidad de acceder a clases privadas para reforzar su nivel de inglés, especialmente las destrezas orales con vistas a la preparación futura para las titulaciones oficiales de los niveles B1-B2 en el idioma indispensables hoy en muchas salidas profesionales.
Impulsada por Ayuntamiento de Biescas y el AMPA del CRA de Biescas.
Ha sido patrocinada en este ejercicio por GARLAN SERVICIOS INMOBILIARIOS junto con la academia de estudios Bobbies & Pipers y donativos de particulares.
Se pretende para próximos cursos involucrar a las empresas afincadas en esta localidad para que financien este tipo de acciones de apoyo a la formación y educación de los niños de la zona.
Biescas 18 de noviembre de 2015
SHERIDAN, Richard Brinsley (1751-1816), the son of Thomas Sheridan, an Irish actor-manager, and Mrs Frances *Sheridan. Richard learned early that as a livelihood the theatre was both precarious and ungentlemanly. He was sent to Harrow School, where he was unhappy and regarded as a dunce. in Bath, however, where he joined his family in 1770, he was at once at home. His skit, written for the local paper, on the opening of the New Assembly Rooms was considered good enough to be published as a separate pamphlet. He fell in love with Eliza Linley, a beautiful and accomplished young singer, with whom he eloped to France and entered into an invalid form of marriage contract, and on whose behalf he fought two farcical duels with her overbearing admirer Captain Matthews. Sheridan's angry father sent him to London to study law, but eventually the fathers withdrew their opposition and in 1773 he was lawfully married to Eliza. Very short of money, he decided to try his hand at a plyay, and in a very few weeks wrote *The Rivals, which was produced at Covent Garden in 1775. It was highly successful and established Sheridan in the fashionable society he sought. The Rivals was followed in a few months by the farce *St Patrick's Day, again a success; and in theautumn by *The Duenna, an operatic play which delighted its audiences. In 1776 Sheridan, with partners, bought *Garrick's half-share in the *Drury Lane Theatre and became its manager. Early in 1777 appeared *A Trip to Scarborough, loosely based on Vanbrugh's *The Relapse, and this again was a success. In March of that year Sheridan was elected a memeber of the *Club, on the proposal of Dr. *Johnson. Meanwhile he was working hard and long on *The School for Scandal, which was produced, with Garrick's help and with a brilliant cast, in May. The play was universally acclaimed, and all doors, from those of the duchess of Devonshire and lady Melbourne downwards, were open to the dramatist—whose personal expenses rose accordingly. Although The School for Scandal had 73 performances between 1777 and 1789 and made a profit of £15,000, Sheridan's financial anxieties, which were to dog him to the end of his life, became even more acute. In 1779 he became the sole proprietor of Drury Lane, and began to live far beyond his means. Although he seems to have been a sympathetic and creative producer, he found the business side of management increasingly irksome. In 1779 he produced his new play *The Critic, based on *The Rehearsal by Buckingham; once again he enjoyed a huge success, and the world regarded him as the true heir of Garrick. But it was not what he wanted. He had grown up with a positive dislike of the theatre, and he declared he never saw a play if he could help it. He wished to shine only in politics, but he had neither the correct family connections nor the financial stability. He became the friend and ally of *Fox and in 1780 won the seat at Stafford. After only two years as an MP he became the under-secretary for foreign affairs, but he neglected his office work, both as a politician and as the manager of Drury Lane. Fortunately his father had secured both Mrs *Siddons and J. P. *Kemble, who brought the required audiences to the theatre. In 1783 he became secretary to the treasury and established his reputation as a brilliant orator in the House of Comons. In 1787 *Burke persuaded him into supporting the impeachment of *Hastings, and his eloquent speeech of over five hours on the Begums of Oude ensured that he was made manager of the trial. He was by now confirmed an intimate friend of the prince regent and other royal figures. Eliza died in 1792, and in the same year the Drury Lane Theatre was declared unsafe and had to be demolished. Sheridan raised £150,000 for a new theatre with apparent ease, but he was plunging himself yet deepr into debt, and payments to his actors became more uncertain than ever. In 1795 he married Esther Ogle. All though these years he was speaking eloquently in the House and hoping for eventual political advancement. *Pizarro, adapted by Sheridan from *Kotzebue, was performed in 1799 and was sucessful enough to bring a brief reprieve, but in 1802 the theatre funds were impounded and the bankers put in charge. Enormous sums were owing to the landlord, the architect, the actors, and stage staff. Although he was still speaking daily at the Commons, Sheridan's friendship with Fox was fading, and when Grenville formed the 'ministry of all the talents' in 1806 Sheridan was offered only the treasureship to the navy, without cabinet rank. The money which came with his appointment to a post with the duchy of Cornwall was soon spent. In 1809 the new Drury Lane was destroyed by fire, the debts became crushing, and Sheridan was excluded from all aspects of management. In 1811 he lost his seat at Stafford, and in 1813 he was arrested for debt. Friends rallied, but he and his wife became ill. His house was discovered to be filthy and denuded of almost all furnishings. He died in July 1816 and was given a fine funeral, with four lords as pall-bearers. He wished to be remembered as a man of politics and to be buried net to Fox, but he was laid near Garrick instead. He is remembered chiefly as the author of two superb comedies, but his speeches and letters have also been published. The standard edition of the plays is The Plays and Poems of Sheridan, ed. R. C. Rhodes (3 vols., 1928): see also Harlequin Sheridan (1933), a life by R. C. Rhodes. The Letters were edited by C. Price (3 vols., 1966).
En esta radio del "15-M"—en la 2ª mitad, tras la entrevista con Andrés Herzog: el "experto" invitado de los podemitas se niega a llamar terroristas a los de París; y el contertulio de la agencia EFE se levanta y se larga, antes de seguir aguantándolos a él y a la otra "experta" doctorada:
Me escribe esta carta el robot de la SSRN diciéndome que este servidor tiene un artículo en el Top Ten de literatura de este servidor.
Como se aprecia por el pantallazo, de hecho tengo en ese Top Ten no un artículo, sino dos. Cierto es que también tiene dos Mark Turner, modelo a seguir, y cierto también que los tiene mejor ubicados que yo. Pero hey, de mi país o de mi continente, ahí estoy yo.
Y también es de celebrar que tengo otro pequeño Top Ten aquí, en "más de lo mío": en el servidor de Historia Literaria y Teoría Literaria de la SSRN:
Son esos pequeños logros que según algunos son la sal misma de la vida y mantienen la dopamina excitada. Para grandes logros, pregúntenle a Pablo Iglesias, the overreacher.
de Rob Pope.
—a los 40 años de la muerte de Franco. Con unas flores dedicadas a Paul Preston y a Felipe González. Y a Fraga, claro.
Ultrasociety: We are the Children of War
A species preying on itself—the key to evolutionary success. As Darwin said, all those beautiful and magnificent marvels of nature (and of human nature) rest on the basis of a struggle for life. Or, to put it with Walter Benjamin, 'every document of civilization is also a document of barbarity'. BTW, the original notion of cultural evolution as a "new science" or Scienza Nuova is copyright Giambattista Vico!
And here’s the book description (I quote):
Cooperation is powerful.
There aren’t many highly cooperative species–but they nearly cover the planet. Ants alone account for a quarter of all animal matter. Yet the human capacity to work together leaves every other species standing.
We organize ourselves into communities of hundreds of millions of individuals, inhabit every continent, and send people into space. Human beings are nature’s greatest team players. And the truly astounding thing is, we only started our steep climb to the top of the rankings–overtaking wasps, bees, termites and ants–in the last 10,000 years. Genetic evolution can’t explain this anomaly. Something else is going on. How did we become the ultrasocial animal?
In his latest book, the evolutionary scientist Peter Turchin (War and Peace and War) solves the puzzle using some astonishing results in the new science of Cultural Evolution. The story of humanity, from the first scattered bands of Homo sapiens right through to the greatest empires in history, turns out to be driven by a remorseless logic. Our apparently miraculous powers of cooperation were forged in the fires of war. Only conflict, escalating in scale and severity, can explain the extraordinary shifts in human society–and society is the greatest military technology of all.
Seen through the eyes of Cultural Evolution, human history reveals a strange, paradoxical pattern. Early humans were much more egalitarian than other primates, ruthlessly eliminating any upstart who wanted to become alpha male. But if human nature favors equality, how did the blood-soaked god kings of antiquity ever manage to claim their thrones? And how, over the course of thousands of years, did they vanish from the earth, swept away by a reborn spirit of human equality? Why is the story of human justice a chronicle of millennia-long reversals? Once again, the science points to just one explanation: war created the terrible majesty of kingship, and war obliterated it.
Is endless war, then, our fate? Or might society one day evolve beyond it? There’s only one way to answer that question. Follow Turchin on an epic journey through time, and discover something that generations of historians thought impossible: the hidden laws of history itself.
—So, I will rephrase the book's major thesis: Cooperation AGAINST A THIRD PARTY is powerful, and has shaped human cultural evolution. The Play of Power—or the Game of Thrones—the making and unmaking of confrontational alliances, feudal management of men, and the replay of this game of alliances at the level of groups and alliances of states—ALL THIS is a major evolutionary force shaping humanity.
Una charla interesantísima como desarrollo de la lógica materialista de Gustavo Bueno—y que puede ofrecer una perspectiva novedosa para tratar cuestiones relativas a la estructuración de la semiosfera y a la teoría del conocimiento. Por ejemplo, su perspectiva sobre las tecnologías se puede aplicar a la teoría de los marcos en tanto que acotamiento de modalidades interaccionales sobre la realidad—y de ahí a las disciplinas cognitivas, además de las ciencias o las tecnologías. Es un nuevo desarrollo de la proposición según la cual el hombre es la medida de todas las cosas; claro que hay que entrar en toda una variedad de medidas, que no todo se mide a palmos ni extendiendo los brazos. En fin, que muchos desarrollos y aplicaciones se nos pueden ocurrir, una vez logremos seguirle el hilo, que no es fácil. Otra manera de enteder este enfoque: es una teoría materialista de las instituciones—de las tecnologías tanto que instituciones, o (por volver a los marcos) en tanto que modalidades interaccionales establecidas y repetibles, que ayudan a estructurar y manipular la realidad sobre la base de una comunicabilidad y repetibilidad de estas operaciones en diferentes contextos. Como decía Goffman: marcos o procedimientos interaccionales que, una vez establecidos, pueden transportarse, desplazarse, reciclarse, y manipularse para generar modalidades de interacción (y modalidades de manipulación, tecnologías) más complejas. Y por cierto que su crítica a la noción de singularidades en física matemática va bastante en línea con la crítica de Smolin y Unger en El Universo Singular y la Realidad del Tiempo. Lo que menos me gusta del enfoque es su insistencia en la inconmensurabilidad de los enfoques, de las instituciones, de los universos, etc. Que no hay cosmos, en suma—también lo decía Borges—y que no hay consiliencia posible. Pero haberlo haylo, y hayla. La conmensurabilidad de todos estos fenómenos y perspectivas se encuentra precisamente en la razón común de todas esas tecnologías y marcos y procedimientos: en el orden interaccional humano, basado en una existencia física común en el mundo de la vida y de la percepción a nuestra escala cotidiana, y en la conmensurabilidad que proporcionan el tiempo y el espacio único que compartimos a esa escala.
No hay que ir muy lejos a buscar razones para dejar de ser musulmán, antes incluso de oír las declaraciones de los peores portavoces del Islam, y de contemplar sus ideales en acción en el ISIS y en las teocracias, y en los atentados en Occidente contra todo lo occidental, incluidos los musulmanes que pillen por delante.
Y sin embargo, si no se identifican con estos canallas asesinos para nada, los musulmanes de Occidente (cuyos representantes han sacado una declaración al respecto) no tienen por qué pedir perdón a nadie. Ni los de Oriente. Se entiende que aclaren su postura ante la opinión pública, sobre todo con el ambiente que hay de suspicacia y hostilidad ya no al islam, sino en muchos casos a los musulmanes como personas—pero quien condena estos actos no tiene por qué pedir perdón por ellos —es contradictorio.
De hecho puede dar lugar a pensar que quien se siente parte del colectivo ofensor, y por tanto pide perdón por las acciones de otros miembros de ese colectivo, se está identificando antes con los islamistas, como parte de un "nosotros", que con sus víctimas. Razón de más para evitar pedir perdón. Estos atentados terroristas islamistas hay que rechazarlos, si eres musulmán, igual que cualquier otro hijo de vecino, sin añadir ni quitar nada. O en todo caso aclarar que a pesar de las apariencias, no compartes religión con esos individuos. No insistir en que sí la compartes.
Pero estos son los males de cabeza de quienes sí rechazan y condenan estos atentados. Luego están los otros, claro. Esos en cambio no piden disculpas.
A comic opera by W. S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan. First produced at the Savoy Theatre, London, 1885. (Libretto at Project Gutenberg).
BBC production (1973):
Drama (drā·ma). Also 6 drame, 7 dramma. [a. late L. drāma drama, play (Ausonius), a. Gr. drama deed, action, play, esp. tragedy, n. of action from dran to do, act, perform. In earliest use in form drame as in Fr. (1707 in Hatz-Darm.).]
1. A composition in prose or verse, adapted to be acted upon a stage, in which a story is related by means of dialogue and action, and is represented with accompanying gesture, costume, and scenery, as in real life; a play.
1515 BARCLAY Eglogues iv. (1570) Cvj/I Such rascolde drames promoted by Thais, Bacchus, Licoris, or yet by Thestalis. 1616 B. JONSON Epigr. cxii , I cannot for the stage a drama lay, Tragic or comic. 1636 HEYWOOD Loves Mistresse Ded., Neither are Dramma's of this nature so despicable. 1641 MILTON Ch. Govt. II. introd. The Scripture also affords us a divine pastoral drama in the song of Solomon. 1670 LASSELS Voy. Italy I (1698) 140 (Stanf.) The several Opera's or Musical Dramata are acted and sung. 1795 MASSON Ch. Mus. I. 24 Their Tragic Dramas . . . being usually accompanied by Instruments. 1852 HALLAM Lit. Ess. E. European Mus., i, 24 The Orfeo of Politian . . . the earliest represented drama, not of a religious nature, in a modern language.
2. With the: The dramatic branch of literature; the dramatic art.
1661 Middleton's Mayor of Queenborough Pref. Wks. (Bullen) II. 3 His drollery yields to none the English drama did ever produce. 1711 ADDISON Spect. No. 13 ¶ 5 The received rules of the Drama. 1727 POPE, etc. Art of Sinking xvi. Wks. 1757 Vi. 219 (Stanf.) The Drama, which makes so great and so lucrative a part of Poetry. 1857 H. REED, Lect. Brit. Poets viii. 284 The true philosophy of the drama as an imaginative imitation of life. 1861 M. PATTISON Ess. I. 46 The lover of the Elizabethan drama.
3. A series of actions or course of events having a unity like that of a drama, and leading to a final catastrophe or consummation.
a 1714 J. SHARP Serm. I. xiii. (R.), It helps to adorn the great drama and contrivances of God's providence. 1775 MASON Gray Gray's poems 2 That peculiar part which he acted in the varied Drama of Society. 1796 BURKE Regic. Peace i. Wks. VIII. 78 The awful drama of Providence now acting on the moral theatre of the world. 1876 E. MELLOR Priesth. ii, 58 That great drama which was to culminate in the death of Christ.
Dramatic (drămæ·tik), a. (sb.) [ad. late L. drāmatic-us, a. Gr. dramatikós pertaining to drama, f. drama, drámat- DRAMA: (cf. F. dramatique).]
1. Of, pertaining to, or connected with the, or a, drama.; dealing with or employing the forms of the drama.
1589 PUTTENHAM, Eng. Poesie I. xv. (Arb) 49 Foure sundry fromes of Poesie Drammatick.. to wit, the Satyre, olde Comedie, new Comedie, and Tragedie. c 1680 J. AUBREY in Shaks. C. Praise 383 He began early to make essayes at Dramatique Poetry. 1791 BURKE Corr. (1844) III. 196, I have never written any dramatic piece whatsoever. 1824 W. IRVING T. Trav. I. 280 The dramatic corps, 1885 MABEL COLLINS Prettiest Woman vviii, She played the part of the dramatic critic.
2. Characteristic of, or appropriate to, the drama; often connoting animated action or striking presentation, as in a play; theatrical.
1725 POPE Odyss. Postscr. The whole structure of that work (Iliad) is dramatick and full of action. 1778 FOOTE Trip Calais Wks. III 1799 II.378 There seems to be a kind of dramatic justice in the change of your two situations. 1855 BRIMLEY, Ess., Tennyson, 9 That dramatic unity demanded in works of art. 1878 LECKY, Eng. in 18th Cent. (1883) I. 176 The destruction of a great and ancient institution is an eminently dramatic thing.
B. sb. † 1. A dramatic poet; a dramatist. Obs.
1646 G. DANIEL, Poems, Wks. 1878 I. 30 Hee was, of English Drammatickes, the Prince. a1680 BUTLER Rem. (1759) I. 164 No longer shall Dramatics be confin'd To draw true Images of all Mankind. a1741 GRAY Lett. Wks. 1884 II. 209 Put me the following lines into the tongue of our modern dramatics.
2. pl. Dramatic compositions or representations; the drama.
1684 W. WINSTANLEY Engl. Worthies. Shaks 345-7 In all his writings hath an unvulgar Style, as well in his... Poems, as in his Drammaaticks. 1711 SHAFETSB. Charac. (1737) I. 265 We read epicks and dramaticks, as we do satirs and lampoons. 1880 C. KEENE Let. in G. S. Layard Life X. (1892) 308 The prevaliling mania for dramatics.
Drama·tical, a (sb). [f. as prec. + -AL.] — DRAMATIC a. I. (Now rare.)
1640 G. WATTS tr. Bacon's Adv. Learn. ii. (R). Dramaticall, or representative [poesy] is as it were, a visible history. a 1652 J SMITH Sel. Disc. , VI, iv (1821) 221 The whole dramatical series of things. 1711 ADDISON Spect. No. 101 §7 A Dramatical performance written in a language which they did not understand. 1854 Fraser's Mag. I 591 Fletcher was the dramatical parent of Congreve.
† B sb. pl. = DRAMATICS sb. Obs. rare
c. 1826 MOIR in Wilson's Wks. (1855) I. 198 Then bid Bryan Procter beat To dramaticals retreat.
Drama·tically, adv. [f. prec. + LY2.]
a. In a dramatic manner; from a dramatic point of view. b. With dramatic or theatrical effect.
a. 1652 J. SMITH Sel. Disc. vi 192 The outward frame of things dramatically set forth. 1759 STERNE Tr. Shandy II. viii. 57 This plea, tho' it might save me dramatically, will damn me biographically. 1836 9 DICKENS Sk. Boz (C. D. ed) 200 He stalked dramatically to bed.
Dramaticism (drămæ·tisiz'm). [f. DRAMATIC a. + -ISM] Dramatic character or quality.
1878 T. SINCLAIR Mount 80 More than its dramaticism and epicism. 1890 Athenaeum 6 Dec. 775/2 The dramaticism frequet among Nineteenth-Century writers of blank verse.
Dramaticle, -icule. Also erron. -ucle. [f. L. drāma, drāmat- with dim. suffix.] A miniature or insignificant drama.
[1792 T. TWINING Recreat. & Stud. (1882) 168 His two printed dialogues, or dramacles] 1813 Examiner 15 Mar. 171/1 This admired dramatucle (if we may be allowed such a diminutive). 1851 Beddoe's Poems Mem. 15 'Olympian Revels', and other dramaticles published published in the 'London Magazine' of 1823. 1865 CARLYLE Fredk. Gt. IV. 252 Court-shows, dramaticules, transparencies.
Dra·matism. [f. as DRAMATIST + -ISM] Dramatization, dramatized form.
1884 Autobiog. Dissenting 122 could no longer amuse his flock with the dramatism of devotion.
|| Dramatis personae (dræmă·tis p∂rsōn·ni) Abbreviated dram. pers. [L.; —persons of a drama.] The characters of a drama or play; the actors in a drama. lit. or fig.
1730 FIELDING Temple Beaut. I. vi. Wks. 1882 VIII. 177 There is (to give you a short Dramatis Personae) my worthy uncle [etc.] 1806 J. JAY Corr. & Pub. Papers (1893) IV. 308 Whether this distant nation is to appear among the dramatis personae cannot now be known. 1821 BYRON Diary 13 Jan., Sketched the outline and Dram. Pers. of a . . tragedy. 1895 Law Times XCIX. 547/I His dramatis personæ included a low attorney.
Dramatist (dræ·mătist). [f. Gr. drama, dramat- DRAMA + -IST: cf. F. dramatiste (1787 in Hatz-.Darm.).] A writer or composer of dramas or dramatic poetry; a play-wright. (Also fig.)
1678 CUDWORTH Intell. Syst. 879 They . . . impatiently cry out against the Dramatist, and presently condemn the Plot. 1748 YOUNG Nt. Th. IX. 348 To see the mighty Dramatist's last Act . . in glory rising o'er the rest. a1862 BUCKLE Misc. Wks. (1872) I. 483 In every country the dramatists have preceded the metaphysicians.
Dramatization (dræ·măt∂izēi§∂n). [f. next + ATION.] The action of dramatizing; conversion into drama; a dramatized version.
1796 W. TAYLOR in Monthly Rev. XIX. 482. The variegated list of his dramatizations. 1846 DICKENS Lett. (1880) I. 165. I really am bothered . . by this confounded dramatization of the Christmas book. 1875 MAINE Hist. Inst. ix. 253 A dramatisation of the origin of Justice.
Dramatize (dræ·măt∂iz), v. [f. as DRAMATIST + IZE]
1. trans. To convert into a drama; to put into dramatic form, adapt for representation on the stage.
1780-83 [See DRAMATIZED]. 1810 SCOTT Fam. Lett. 22 Dec., They are busy dramatizing The Lady of the Lake here and in Dublin. 1884 Law Times 27 Sept. 358/2 The play 'Called Back,' dramatized from the novel of that name.
b. obsol. To write dramas.
1814 Sortes Horatianae 125 Scrawl, dramatize . . do what ye will.
2. To describe or represent dramatically.
1823 ADOLPHUS in Lockhart Scott Aug., To exert the talent of dramatizing and . . representing in his own person the incidents he told of. 1894 HOWELLS in Harper's Mag. Feb. 383 The men continue to dramatize a struggle on the floor below.
3. intr. (for pass). To admit of dramatization.
1819 SCOTT Fam. Let. 15 June. The present set . . will not dramatize. 1836 New Monthly Mag. XLVII 235 The story would dramatize admirably.
4. trans. To influence by the drama, nonce-use.
1799 Morn. Chron. in Spirit Pub. Jrnls. (1800) III. 154 Some might take their station in the theatre, and dramatize the audience into loyalty.
Hence Dra·matized ppl. a. Dra·matizing vbl. sb. and ppl. a.; also Dra·matizable a. (Webster, 1864); Dra·matizer, one who dramatizes.
1780-83 W. TOOKE Russia (Webster 1828) A dramatized extract from the history of the Old and New Testaments. 1833 Westm. Rev. XVIII, 226 The dramatist of Cooper's 'Pilot'. a1834 LAMB Char. Dram. Writers. Rowley Wks. 530 Our delicacy . . forbids the dramatizing of distress. 1862 MERIVALE Rom. Emp. (1865, V. xii. 99 The dramatized histories of the English bard. 1875 EMERSON Lett. & Soc. Aims Wks. (Bohn) III. 221 A sort of dramatizing talent.
Dramaturge (dræ·măt∂:rdy) [a F. dramaturge (1787), ad Gr. dramatourgos composer of drama, f. drama, dramato- DRAMA + -ergein to work, -ergos working, worker]. —DRAMATURGIST
[1859 Times 17 Nov. 8/2 Schiller was starving on a salary of 200 dollars per annum, which he received for his services as 'dramaturg' or literary manager.] 1870 Athenaeum 12 Mar. 366 M. Sardou . . that indefatigable dramaturge. 1882 SYMONDS Animi Figura 118 Fate is the dramaturge, necessity Allots the parts.
Dramatu·rgic, a. [f. Gr. dramatourg-os (see prec.) + -IC] Pertaining to dramaturgy; dramatic, histrionic, theatrical.
[1831 BEDDOES Let. Jan. in Poems p. xcvi So much for my dramaturgic ideas on playbills. 1845 CARLYLE Cromwell 1871] I. 158 Some form [of worship] not grown dramaturgic to us, but still awfully symbolical for us. 1883 Mag. of Art June 315/1 That lack of dramaturgic science.
SO Dramatu·rgical a.
Dra·maturgist [f. as prec. + -IST] A composer of a drama; a play-wright.
1825 CARLYLE Schiller II (1845) 63 Notwithstanding . . all the vaunting of dramaturgists. 1843 — Past & Pr. II, ii The World Dramaturgist has written, Exeunt.
Dra·maturgy [mod. ad Gr. dramatourgía composition of dramas : cf. F. dramaturgie (17th c.), Ger. dramaturgie.]
1. Dramatic composition; the dramatic art.
1801 W. TAYLOR in Monthly Mag. XII 224. Lessing's Dramaturgy. 1805 Ibid. XX. 41 Lessing .. published a weekly paper, entitled the Hamburg Dramaturgy. 1885 Sat. Rev. 28 Mar. 419/2 The immortal Mac-Flecknoe, in which the 'Nursery' and its dramaturgy are annotated.
2. Dramatic or theatrical acting.
1837 CARLYLE Diam Neckl. Misc. Ess. 1888 V, 184 Let her .. give her past Dramaturgy the fit aspect to Monseigneur and others. 1858 —Fredk. Gr. (1865) I. I. iii. 22 Sublime dramaturgy, which we call his Majesty's Government, costs so much.
O el moro cabeza de turco. Comenta Luis del Pino la polémica en torno a un documental francés sobre el único condenado por los atentados del 11-M, Zougam, a quien comparan allí con el caso Dreyfus, un condenado sin pruebas que tuvo la mala suerte de pasar por allí cuando una conjunción de intereses mutuos necesitaron un chivo expiatorio conveniente. Un caso Dreyfus a la medida de la envilecida y falsaria España del siglo XXI:
ENLACE AL AUDIO DE ESRADIO
Por si les quedan más ganas de estudiar el tema de los chivos expiatorios y de la "construcción del enemigo", aquí está la teoría al respecto de René Girard: The Scapegoat.
Once años lleva Zougam en celda de aislamiento, por negarse a reconocer su culpabilidad. Yo creo que aún lo oiremos hablar, cuando salga, pero no nos iluminará mucho, pues no es el que más sabe del 11-M. Ese está suelto y se está tomando unos martinis, sin duda.
Analizamos la novela de William Gibson Zero History (2010) en relación a los conceptos de control de la información y de 'topsight' o perspectiva dominante en la era de Internet. Prestamos especial atención a la función reflexiva metafictional de la perspectiva dominante, y a su papel en la construcción estética de la novela en tanto que artefacto perspectivístico.
A MacGuffin of Ultimate Scale: William Gibson's Zero History
An analysis of William Gibson's novel 'Zero History' (2010) with reference to the concepts of informational control and topsight in the age of the Internet. Special attention is paid to the metafictional reflexive function of topsight, and to its role in the aesthetic construction of the novel as a perspectival artifact. Note: Downloadable document is in Spanish.
Number of Pages in PDF File: 4
Keywords: Information, Internet, William Gibson, Literature, Novel, Data mining, Topsight, Metafiction, Aesthetic construction, Narratology
Gilbert, W. S., and Arthur Sullivan. Iolanthe. 1882. Sarah Connolly (Iolanthe); Claire Rutter (Phyllis); William Dazeley (Strephon); Richard Suart (Lord Chancellor); Anne-Marie Owens (Queen of the Fairies); John Graham-Hall (Lord Tolloller); Ashley Holland (Lord Mountararat). BBC Singers. BBC Concert Orchestra / Jane Glover. (The Proms, 2000). YouTube (Jim Manson) 15 March 2014.*
Otra versión, cantada por Ian Bostridge
... DESAPARECIDA :/
BLAKE, William (1757-1827), the third son of a London hosier. He did not go to school but was apprenticed to James Basire, engraver to the Society of *Antiquaries, and then became a student at the *Royal Academy. From 1779 he was employed as an engraver by the bookseller J. *Johnson, and in 1780 met *Fuseli and *Flaxman, the latter a follower of *Swedenborg, whose mysticism deeply influenced Blake. In 1782 he married Catherine Boucher, the daughter of a market-gardener; their childless marriage was a lasting communion. Flaxman at this period introduced him to the progressive intellectual circle of the Revd A. S. Mathew and his wife (which included Mrs *Barbauld, H. *More, and Mrs. E. *Montagu), and Mathew and Flaxman financed the publication of Blake's first volume, Poetical Sketches (1783). In 1784, with help from Mrs Mathew, he set up a print shop at 27 Broad Street, and about the same period (although not for publication) wrote the satirical *An Island in the Moon. He engraved and published his *Songs of Innoncence in 1789, and also The Book of Thel, both works which manifest the early phases of his highly distinctive mystic vision, and in which he embarks on the evolution of his personal mythology; years later (in *Jerusalem) he was to state, through the character Los, 'I must create a System, or be enslaved by another Man's', words which have been taken by some to apply to his own need to escape from the feeters of 18th-cent. versification, as well as from the materialist philosophy (as he conceived it) of the *Enlightenment, and a Puritanical or repressive interpretation of Christianity. The Book of Thel presents the maiden Thel lamenting transience and mutability by the banks of the river of Adona; she is answered by the lily, the cloud, the worm, and the clod who assure her that 'He, who loves the lowly' cherishes even the meanest; but this relatively conventional wisdom is challenged by a final vision in which Thel visits the house of Clay, sees the couches of the dead, and hears 'a voice of sorrow' breathe a characteristically Blakean protest against hypocrisy and restraint—'Why a tender curb upon the youthful, burning boy? Why a tender little curtain of flesh upon the bed of our desire?'—a message which sends Thel back 'with a shriek' to the vales of Har. The ambiguity of this much-interpreted poem heralds the increasing complexity of his other works which include Tiriel (written 1789, pub. 1874), introducing the theme of the blind tyrannic father, 'the king of rotten wood, and of the bones of death', which reappears in different forms in many poems; *The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (engraved c. 1790-3), his principal prose work, a book of paradoxical aphorisms; and the revolutionary works The French Revolution (1791); America: A Prophecy (1793); and isions of the Daughters of Albion (1793), in which he develops his attitude of revolt against authority, combining political fervour (he had met *Paine at Johnson's) and visionary ecstasy; Urizen, the deviser of moral codes (described as 'the stony law' of the Decalogue) and *Orc, the Promethean arch-rebel, emerge as principal characters in a cosmology that some scholars have related to that of *Gnosticism. By this time Blake had already established his poetic range; the long, flowing lines and violent energy of the verse combine with phrases of terse and aphoristic clarity and moments of great lyric tenderness, and he was once more to demonstrate his command of the lyric in Songs of Experience (1794) which includes 'Tyger! Tyger! burning bright', 'O Rose thou art sick', and other of his more accessible pieces.
Meanwhile the Blakes had moved to Lambeth in 1790; there he continued to engrave his own works and to write, evolving his mythology further in The Book of *Urizen (1794); *Europe: A Prophecy (1794); The Song of *Los (1795); The Book of Ahania (1795); The Book of Los (1795); and The Four Zoas (originally entitled Vala, written and revised 1797-1804), and also working for the booksellers. In 1800 he moved to Felpham, Sussex, where he lived for three years, working for his friend and patron *Hayley, , and working on *Milton (1804-8); in 1803 he was charged at Chichester with high treason for having 'uttered seditious and treasonable expressions, such as "D—n the King, d—n all his subjects . . . "', but was acquitted. In the same year he returned to London, to work on Milton and Jerusalem: The Emanation of the Giant Albion (written and etched, 1804-20). In 1805 he was commissioned by Cromek to produce a set of drawings for R. *Blair's poem The Grave, but Cromek defaulted on the contract, and Blake earned neither the money nor the public esteem he had hoped for, and found his designs engraved and weakened by another hand. This was symptomatic of the disappointment of his later years, when he appears to have relinquished expectations of being widely understood, and quarreled even with some of the circle of friends who supported him. Both his poetry and his art had failed to find a sympathetic audience, and a lifetime of hard work had not brought him riches or even much comfort. His last years were passed in obscurity, although he continued to attract the interest and admiration of younger artists, and a commission in 1821 from the painter John Linnell produced his well-known illustrations for the Book of Job, published in 1826. (It was Linnell who introduced Blake to Samuel *Palmer in 1824.) A later poem, 'The Everlasting Gospel', written about 1818, shows undiminished power and attack; it presents Blake's own version of Jesus, in a manner that recalls the paradoxes of The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, attacking the conventional 'Creeping Jesus', gentle, humble, and chaste, and stressing his rebellious nature, his forgiveness of the woman taken in adultery, his reversing of the stony law of Moses, praising 'the Naked Human Form divine', and sexuality as the measn whereby 'the Soul Expands its wing', and elevating forgiveness above the 'Moral Virtues'.
At Blake's death, general opinion held that he had been, if gifted, insane. *Wordsworth's verdict, according to C. *Robinson, was that 'The was no doubt that this poor man was mad, but there is something in the madness of this man which interests me more than the sanity of Lord Byron and Walter Scott', a view in some measure echoed by *Ruskin, who found his manner 'diseased and wild' but his mind 'great and wise'. It was not until A. *Gilchrist's biography of 1863 (significantly describing Blake as 'Pictor Ignotus') that interest began to grow. This was followed by an appreciation by *Swinburne (1868) and by W. M. *Rossetti's edition of 1874, which added new poems to the canon and established his reputation, at least as a lyric poet; his rediscovered engravings considerably influenced the development of *art nouveau. In 1893 *Yeats, a devoted admirer, produced with E. J. Ellis a three-volume edition, with a memoir and an interpretation of the mythology, and the 20th cent. saw an enormous increase in interest. The bibliographical studies and editions of G. *Keynes, culminating in The Complete Writings of William Blake (1966, 2nd edn), have added gratly to knowledge both of the man and his works, revealing him not only as an apocalyptic visionary but also as a writer of ribald and witty epigrams, a critic of spirit and originality, and an independent thinker who found his own way of resisting the orthodoxies of his age, and whose hostile response to the narrow vision and the materialism (as he conceived it) of his bêtes noires Joshua *Reynolds, *Locke, and I. *Newton was far from demented, but in part a prophetic warning of the dangers of as world perceived as mechanism, with man as a mere cog in an industrial revolution. There have been many interpretative studies, relating his work to traditional Christianity, to the *Neoplatonic and Swedenborgian traditions, to Jungian *archetypes and to *Freudian and *Marxist theory; the Prophetic Books, once dismissed as incoherent, are now claimed by many as works of integrity as well as profundity. Recently, Blake has had a particularly marked influence on the *Beat Generation and the English poets of the *underground movement, hailed by both as a liberator; *Auden earlier acclaimed him ('New Year Letter', 1941) as 'Self-educated Blake . . .' who 'Spoke to Isaiah in the Strand / And heard inside each mortal thing / Its holy emanation sing'.
See also the Blake Books (19777) by G. E. Bentley Jnr, including annotated catalogues of his writings and scholarly books about him; The Complete Poetry and Prose of William Blake, ed. D. V. Erdman (1965, 1988); Blake's Illuminated Books, 6 vols. (1991-5), gen. ed. D. Bindman; and J. Viscomi, Blake and the Idea of the Book (1993), an authoritative account of Blake's graphic process; The William Blake ARchive: http://jefferson.village.virginia.edu/blake (ed.M. Eaves, R. Essick, J. Viscomi). There is a life by P. *Ackroyd, (1995).
Ni tiniebla ni caos. La tiniebla
Requiere ojos que ven, como el sonido
Y el silencio requieren el oído,
Y el espejo, la forma que lo puebla.
Ni el espacio ni el tiempo. Ni siquiera
Una divinidad que premedita
El silencio anterior a la primera
Noche del tiempo, que será infinita.
El gran río de Heráclito el Oscuro
Su curso misterioso no ha emprendido,
Que del pasado fluye hacia el futuro,
Que del olvido fluye hacia el olvido.
Algo que ya padece. Algo que implora.
Después la historia universal. Ahora.
The simplicity of complexity. The world as an emergent from the fundamental laws of physics plus certain accidents. The point: "You don't need something more to explain something more".
Gell-Mann: Consciencia, reducción, y emergencia
LOCKE, JOHN (1632-1704), philosopher. Son of an ATTORNEY who had fought on the PARLIAMENTARIAN SIDE in the CIVIL WARS, Locke both studied and taught at OXFORD UNIVERSITY. IN 1667, he became attached to the household of Anthony Ashley COOPER, 1st Earl of Shaftesbury, henceforth his political patron. Holding minor office when Shaftesbury was in power, Locke went to France when the Earl was out of favour (1676-9), and to Holland when the exposure of the RYE HOUSE PLOT shattered his circle. The GLORIOUS REVOLUTION allowed him to come back to England in 1689, and from 1696 he once more played a part in public life, serving as one of the most active members of the newly founded BOARD OF TRADE.
His writings, published only after 1689 although much was written earlier, include three Letters advocating religious toleration (1689, 1690, 1692); Two Treatises of Government &1680), a classic exposition both of the right to resist misgovernment and limit its activities, and of the right to hold private property; and An Essay on Human Understanding (1690), a book which was to be hailed as seminal by thinkers of the ENLIGHTENMENT for its advocacy of the primacy of human experience in the perception of truth. Some Thoughts Concerning Education (1693) and The Reasonableness of Christianity (1695) followed; the latter became a key text for LATITUDINARIANS and DEISTS (although Locke himself disapproved of the description 'Deist'). Like HOBBES, Locke began his analyisis with man in a state of nature; otherwise there is little resemblance in their political theory. For Hobbes, the state of nature is so terrifying that men willingly accept the arbitrary rule of an all-powerful sovereign; for Locke, the state of nature has sufficient inconveniences to persuade men to join together and to entrust limited powers (defined in terms of executive, federative, and legislative functions) to a government to act for the common good. What make Locke's Two Treatises appear subersive to his more conservative readers, then and later, was his justification of the subject's right to resisteance should the ruler (or governing authority) violate the trust invested in him. And Locke seems to have been well aware of the work's radical thrust; not only did he publish it anonymously, but he also consistently denied authorship, though frequently taxed with it, until his death. His political ideas were to have a considerable influence on the American colonists in their breach with Britain (see SIDNEY, ALGERNON).
LOCKE, John (1632-1704), born at Wrington, Somerset, educated at Westminster and Christ Church. He held various academic posts at that university, and became physician to the household of the first earl of *Shaftesbury in 1667. He held official positions and subsequently lived at Oxford, then fled to Holland in 1683 as a consequence of Shaftesbury's plotting for Monmouth; how far he was himself involved is not certain. In 1687 he joined William of Orange at Rotterdam; on his return to England he became commissioner of appeals and member of the council of trade. His last years were spent in Essex in the home of Sir Francis and Lady Mashm, the latter being the daughter of Ralph Cudworth, one of the *Cambridge Platonists.
Locke's principal philosophical work is the *Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1690), a work which led J. S. *Mill to call him the 'unquestioned founder of the analytic philosophy of mind'. always critical of 'enthusiasm', he was originally opposed to freedom of religion, and never supported Catholic emancipation; but in his maturity he defended the rights of the Dissenters on both moral and economic grounds. He published three Letters on Toleration between 1689 and 1692; a fourth was left unfinished at his death. His defence of simple biblical religion in The Reasonableness of Christianity, without resort to creed or tradition, led to a charge of *Socinianism, which Locke replied to in two Vindications (1695, 1697). He was also involved in an extensive pamphlet war with Edward Stillingfleet (1696-8) over the alleged compatibility of his Essay with Socinianism and *Deism.
Locke published in 1690 two Treatises of Government designed to combat the theory of the divine right of kings. He finds the origin of the civil state in a contract. The 'legislative', or government, 'being only a fiduciary power to act for certain ends, there remains still in the people the supreme power to remove or alter the legislative when they find the legislative act contrary to the trust reposed in them'. Throughout, Locke in his theory of the 'Original Contract' opposes absolutism; the first Treatise is specifically an attack on Sir Robert Filmer's Patriarcha. Although Locke in his early manuscripts was closer to *Hobbes's authoritarianism and continues to share with Hobbes the view that civil obligations are founded in contract, he strongly rejected Hobbes's view that the sovereign is above the law and no party to the contract. He published a volume on education in 1693, and on the rate of interest and the value of money in 1692 and 1695. The first edition of his collected works appeared in 1714. A full critical edition of his works, including eight volumes of correspondence, was launched in 1975.
Locke's writings had an immense influence on the literature of succeeding generations, and he was very widely read; his Thoughts Concerning Education, which are concerned with practical advice on the upbringing of 'sons of gentlemen', were given to *Richardson's Pamela by Mr. B—, and to his son by *Chesterfield, and their influence is seen in *Rousseau's *Émile; his view of the child's mind as a tabula rasa, and his distinctions between wit and judgement, were the subject of much discussion during the *Augustan age. The anit-philosophy jokes of the *Scriblerus Club demonstrate the currency of his ideas; *Addison was his champion in many essays. But perhaps his greatest impact was on *Sterne, who quotes him frequently in *Tristram Shandy, and who was deeply interested in his theories of the random association of ideas, of the measuring of time, of the nature of sensation, etc. On this subject, see Kenneth MacLean, John Locke and English Literature of the Eighteenth Century (1936).
An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1975), ed. Peter H. Nidditch; A Paraphrase and Notes on the Epistles of St Paul, ed. Arthur W. Wainwright (2 vols, 1987); The Correspondence of John Locke, ed. E. S. de Beer (8 vols, 1976-89). (See also RESTORATION).
En la Biblioteca Universitaria de Sevilla. Y seguro que he llegado ahí en BUS, como ustedes.
Observaré que estoy allí en buena compañía. El Diccionario Oxford, el Merriam-Webster, la Enciclopedia del Lenguaje y la Literatura, el Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, LION... Vamos, cosas que no se hacen en un día. Tampoco mi bibliografía. Aunque admitiré que con su compañía estos acompañantes me honran más que yo a ellos, y sería pretencioso decir que es modestia.
And into that gate they shall enter, and in that house they shall dwell, where there shall be no cloud nor sun, no darkness nor dazzling, but one equal light, no noise nor silence, but an equal music, no fears nor hopes, but one equal possession, no foes nor friends, but one equal communion and identity, no ends nor beginnings, but one equal eternity.
WORDSWORTH, William (1770-1850), born at Cockermouth, Cumbria, the son of an attorney; he attended (with Mary Hutchinson, his future wife) the infants' school in Penrith and, from 1779 to 1787, Hawkshead Grammar School. His mother died in 1778, his father in 1783, losses recorded in *The Prelude, which describes the mixed joys and terrors of his country boyhood with a peculiar intensity. He attended St John's College, Cambridge, but disliked the academic course. In 1790 he went on a walking tour of France, the Alps, and Italy, and returned to France late in 1791, to spend a year there; during this period he was fired by a passionate belief in the French Revolution and republican ideals, and also fell in love with the daughter of a surgeon at Blois, Annette Vallon, who bore him a daughter (See E. Legouis, William Wordsworth and Annette Vallon, 1922). (This love affair is reflected in 'Vaudracour and Julia', composed ?1804, published 1820, and incorporated somewhat anomalously in Book IX of The Prelude.) After his return to England he published in 1793 two poems in heroic couplets, An Evening Walk and Descriptive Sketches, both conventional attempts at the *picturesque and the *sublime, the latter describing the Alps. In this year he also wrote (but did not publish) a Letter to the Bishop of Llandaff (see WATSON, R.) in support of the French Republic. England's declaration of war against France shocked him deeply, but the institution of the Terror marked the beginning of his disillusion with the French Revolution, a period of depression reflected in his verse drama *The Borderers (composed 1796-7, pub. 1842) and in 'Guilt and Sorrow' (composed 1791-4, pub in part in 1798 as 'The Female Vagrant'). In 1795 he received a legacy of £900 from his friend Raisley Calvert, intended to enable him to pursue his vocation as a poet, which also allowed him to be reunited with his sisster Dorothy (above); they settled first at Racedown in Dorset, then at Alfoxden in Somerset, where they had charge of the son of their friend Basil *Montagu. The latter move (aided by T. *Poole) was influenced by a desire to be near *Coleridge, then living at Nether Stowey, whom Wordsworth had met in 1795. This was a period of intense creativity for both poets, which produced the *Lyrical Ballads (1798), a landmark in the history of English *Romanticism (See ANCIENT MARINER; IDIOT BOY, THE; TINTERN ABBEY.) The winter of 1798-9 was spent in Goslar in Germany, where Wordsworth wrote sections of what was to be The Prelude and the enigmatic *'Lucy' poems. In 1799 he and Dorothy settled in Dove Cottage, Grasmere; to the next year belong 'The Recluse', Book I (later *The Excursion), 'The Brothers', *'Michael', and many of the poems included in the 1800 edition of the Lyrical Ballads (which, with its provocative preface on *poetic diction, aroused much criticism). In 1802 Wordsworth and Dorothy visited Annette Vallon in France, and later that year William married Mary Hutchison, his financial position having been improved by the repayment of a debt on the death of Lord Lonsdale. In the same year he composed *'Resolution and Independence', and began his ode on *'Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood', both of which appeared in Poems in Two Volumes (1807), along with many of his most celebrated lyrics. To the same period belong the birth of five children (of whom the eldest, John, was born in 1803), travels with Dorothy and Coleridge, and new friendships, notably with Sir W. *Scott, Sir G. *Beaumont, and *De Quincey. Wordsworth's domestic happiness was overcast by the death of his sailor brother John in 1805 (which inspired several poems, including 'Elegiac Stanzas Suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle', 1807), the early deaths of two of his children (one of which inspired his sonnet 'Surprised by joy', 1815), and the physical deterioration of Coleridge, from whom he was for some time estranged, and with whom he was never entirely reconciled. But his productivity continued, and his popularity gradually increased. The Excursion was published in 1814, The White Doe of Rylstone and two volumes of Miscellaneous Poems in 1815, and *Peter Bell and *The Waggoner in 1819. In 1813 he had been appointed stamp distributor for Westmorland, a post which brought him some £400 a year, and in the same year moved from Allan Bank (where he had lived from 1808) to Rydal Mount, Ambleside, where he lived the rest of his life. The great work of his early and middle years was now over, and Wordsworth slowly settled into the role of patriotic, conservative public man, abandoning the radical politics and idealism of his youth. Much of the best of his later work was mildly topographical, inspired by his love of travel; it records journeys to Scotland, along the river Duddon, to the Continent, etc. He was left a legacy by Sir George Beaumont in 1827, and in 1842 received a Civil List pension of £300 a year; in 1843 he succeeded *Southey as *poet Laureate. He died at Rydal Mount, after the publication of a finally revised text of his works (6 vols, 1849-50), and The Prelude was published posthumously in 1850. His prose works include an essay, Concerning the Relations of Great Britain, Spain and Portugal . . . as Affected by the Convention of Cintra (1809), castigating the supine English policy, and A Description of the Scenery of the Lakes in the North of England, written in 1810 as an introduction to Wilkinson's Select Views of Cumberland.
De Quincey wrote of Wordsworth in 1835, 'Up to 1820 the name of Wordsworth was trampled underfoot; from 1820 to 1830 it was militant; from 1830 to 1835 it has been triumphant.' Early attacks in the *Edinburgh Review and by the anonymous author of a parody, The Simpliciad (1808), were followed by criticism and satire by the second generation of Romantics; *Byron and *Shelley mocked him as 'simple' and 'dull', *Keats distrusted what he called the *'egotistical sublime', and *Hazlitt, and later *Browning, deplored him as *'The Lost Leader', who had abandoned his early radical faith. But these doubts were counterbalanced by the enormous and lasting popularity of much of his work, which was regarded by writers such as M. *Arnold and J. S. *Mill with almost religious veneration, as an expression in an age of doubt of the transcendent in nature and the good in man. A great innovator, he permanently enlarged the range of English poetry, both in subject matter and in treatment (a distinction he would not himself have accepted).
Wordsworth's Poetical and Prose Works, together with Dorothy Wordsworth's Journals, ed. W. Knight, appeared in 1896, and his Poetical Works (ed. E. de Selincourt and H. Darbishire, 5 vols.) in 1930-9 and 1952-4. Letters of the Wordsworth Family 1787-1855 were edited by W. Knight in 1907, and Letters of William and Dorothy Wordsworth (ed. de Selincourt) appeared in 1935-9. His biography by M. Moorman was published in 1968 (2 vols), and a long-lost collection of letters between Mary and William appeared as The Love Letters of William and Mary Wordsworth, ed. B. Darlington (1982). See also Stephen Gill, William Wordsworth (1989).
'Narrative Theory' is an online introduction to classical structuralist narratological analysis. The second section addresses the structure of the action or fabula provided by the Russian Formalists, notably by Boris Tomashevski, contemplated from the standpoint provided by Mieke Bal's structuralist theory of narrative. The paper addresses the Formalist definitions of fabula and siuzhet, the formalist notions of motifs and narrative macrostructures, the two logics of narrative, kinds of motifs, horizontal sections of the fabula, the vertical integration of narrative levels, with an an approach to exposition and motivation, and concluding with the Formalist views on time, space, and character.
Jose Angel Garcia Landa
Universidad de Zaragoza
Number of Pages in PDF File: 22
Keywords: Literary theory, Narratology, Narrative analysis, Narrative structure, Russian formalism, Discourse analysis, Plot
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