Aspects of Literature |
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Page 2
... with the division of criticism itself , we have every reason to be grateful to Mr Eliot for disentangling the problem for us . The question of criticism has become rather like Glaucus the sea - god 2 Aspects of Literature.
... with the division of criticism itself , we have every reason to be grateful to Mr Eliot for disentangling the problem for us . The question of criticism has become rather like Glaucus the sea - god 2 Aspects of Literature.
Page 3
John Middleton Murry. criticism has become rather like Glaucus the sea - god , encrusted with shells and hung with weed till his lineaments are hardly discernible . We have at least a clear sight of him now , and we are able to decide ...
John Middleton Murry. criticism has become rather like Glaucus the sea - god , encrusted with shells and hung with weed till his lineaments are hardly discernible . We have at least a clear sight of him now , and we are able to decide ...
Page 8
... become aware that to search for the good life is in fact impossible , unless he has an ideal of it before his mind's eye . An ideal of the good life , if it is to have the internal coherence and the organic force of a true ideal , must ...
... become aware that to search for the good life is in fact impossible , unless he has an ideal of it before his mind's eye . An ideal of the good life , if it is to have the internal coherence and the organic force of a true ideal , must ...
Page 12
... becoming a true critic of art grows greater . When the aesthetic basis of all humane activity is familiarly recognised , the values of the philosopher , the scientist , and the artist become consciously the same , and therefore ...
... becoming a true critic of art grows greater . When the aesthetic basis of all humane activity is familiarly recognised , the values of the philosopher , the scientist , and the artist become consciously the same , and therefore ...
Page 15
... become the symbols of mankind . The tragic paradox of human life which slumbers in the soul in years of peace is awakened again . When we would be solitary and cannot , we are made sensible of the depth and validity of the impulse which ...
... become the symbols of mankind . The tragic paradox of human life which slumbers in the soul in years of peace is awakened again . When we would be solitary and cannot , we are made sensible of the depth and validity of the impulse which ...
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Common terms and phrases
achievement æsthetic Aiken Anatole France apprehension argument Aristotle artist attitude avant toute chose beauty believe Butler Charles Sorley Coleridge Coleridge's comprehension consciousness Constance Garnett conviction creative death dream emotion English essay essential experience express eyes fact feel Flesh Function of Criticism genius GERALD GOULD Hardy Hardy's poetry heart human Hyperion ideal imagination infinitely intuition Jean-Jacques Keats Keats's kind Lake of Bienne language less letters lines literary criticism literature living logic lyrical manifest Masefield melody merely mind modern moral never novel ourselves passionate perhaps philosophic critic poem poet poet's principles prose recognise rhythm Ronsard Rousseau Samuel Butler seems sense Shakespeare Sidney Colvin SIR ALFRED SCOTT-GATTY Sir Sidney sonnets Sorley soul spirit stand strange T. S. Eliot Tchehov things Thomas Hardy thought tion true truth unity verse vision whole wisdom wise word Wordsworth writer written wrote
Popular passages
Page 62 - I caught this morning morning's minion, kingdom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing, As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding Stirred for a bird,— the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!
Page 150 - purge off, Benign, if so it please thee, my mind's film.' 'None can usurp this height,' returned that shade, 'But those to whom the miseries of the world Are misery, and will not let them rest.
Page 59 - I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day. What hours, O what black hours we have spent This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went! And more must, in yet longer light's delay.
Page 69 - Hyperion" — there were too many Miltonic inversions in it — Miltonic verse cannot be written but in an artful, or, rather, artist's humour. I wish to give myself up to other sensations. English ought to be kept up.
Page 189 - A second promise of genius is the choice of subjects very remote from the private interests and circumstances of the writer himself. At least I have found that where the subject is taken immediately from the author's personal sensations and experiences, the excellence of a particular poem is but an equivocal mark, and often a fallacious pledge, of genuine poetic power.
Page 45 - I KNOW that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above ; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do not love ; My country is Kiltartan Cross, My countrymen Kiltartan's poor, No likely end could bring them loss Or leave them happier than before. Nor law, nor duty bade me fight, Nor public men, nor cheering crowds, A lonely impulse of delight...
Page 75 - By an immortal sickness which kills not ; It works a constant change, which happy death Can put no end to ; deathwards progressing To no death...
Page 125 - We stood by a pond that winter day, And the sun was white, as though chidden of God, And a few leaves lay on the starving sod; — They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.
Page 58 - But as air, melody, is what strikes me most of all in music and design in painting, so design, pattern or what I am in the habit of calling 'inscape' is what I above all aim at in poetry. Now it is the virtue of design, pattern, or inscape to be distinctive and it is the vice of distinctiveness to become queer. This vice I cannot have escaped.
Page 75 - The lily and the snow ; and beyond these I must not think now, though I saw that face. But for her eyes I should have fled away ; They held me back with a benignant light, Soft, mitigated by divinest lids Half-clos'd, and visionless entire they seem'd Of all external things...