We are inclined to wonder, as we review the situation, whether those of the contrary persuasion4 are not allowing themselves to be impressed primarily by mere5 bulk, and arguing that a man's chief work must necessarily be what he has done most of; and we feel that some such supposition is necessary to explain what appears to us as a visible reluctance6 to allow Mr Hardy's poetry a clean impact upon the critical consciousness. It is true that we have ranged against us critics of distinction, such as Mr Lascelles Abercrombie and Mr Robert Lynd, and that it may savour of impertinence to suggest that the case could have been unconsciously pre-judged in their minds when they addressed themselves to Mr Hardy's poetry. Nevertheless, we find some significance in the fact that both these critics are of such an age that when they came to years of discretion7 the Wessex Novels were in existence as a corpus. There, before their eyes, was a monument of literary work having a unity8 unlike that of any contemporary author. The poems became public only after they had laid the foundations of their judgment9. For them Mr Hardy's work was done. Whatever he might subsequently produce was an interesting, but to their criticism an otiose10 appendix to his prose achievement.
It happens therefore that to a somewhat younger critic the perspective may be different. By the accident of years it would appear to him that Mr Hardy's poetry was no less a corpus than his prose. They would be extended equally and at the same moment before his eyes; he would embark11 upon voyages of discovery into both at roughly the same time; and he might find, in total innocence12 of preciousness and paradox, that the poetry would yield up to him a quality of perfume not less essential than any that he could extract from the prose.
This is, as we see it, the case with ourselves. We discover all that our elders discover in Mr Hardy's novels; we see more than they in his poetry. To our mind it exists superbly in its own right; it is not lifted into significance upon the glorious substructure of the novels. They also are complete in themselves. We recognise the relation between the achievements, and discern that they are the work of a single mind; but they are separate works, having separate and unique excellences13. The one is only approximately explicable in terms of the other. We incline, therefore, to attach a signal importance to what has always seemed to us the most important sentence in Who's Who?—namely, that in which Mr Hardy confesses that in 1868 he was compelled—that is his own word—to give up writing poetry for prose.
For Mr Hardy's poetic14 gift is not a late and freakish flowering. In the volume into which has been gathered all his poetical15 work with the exception of 'The Dynasts,'[12] are pieces bearing the date 1866 which display an astonishing mastery, not merely of technique but of the essential content of great poetry. Nor are such pieces exceptional. Granted that Mr Hardy has retained only the finest of his early poetry, still there are a dozen poems of 1866-7 which belong either entirely16 or in part to the category of major poetry. Take, for instance, 'Neutral Tones':—
'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.
'Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove
Over tedious riddles17 long ago;
And some winds played between us to and fro
On which lost the more by our love.
'The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have strength to die;
And a grin of bitterness swept thereby18
Like an ominous19 bird a-wing….
'Since then keen lessons that love deceives
And wrings20 with wrong, have shaped to me
Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree
And a pond edged with grayish leaves.'
[Footnote 12: Collected. Poems of Thomas Hardy. Vol. I.
(Macmillan.)]
That was written in 1867. The date of Desperate Remedies, Mr Hardy's first novel, was 1871. Desperate Remedies may have been written some years before. It makes no difference to the astonishing contrast between the immaturity21 of the novel and the maturity22 of the poem. It is surely impossible in the face of such a juxtaposition23 then to deny that Mr Hardy's poetry exists in its own individual right, and not as a curious simulacrum of his prose.
These early poems have other points of deep interest, of which one of the chief is in a sense technical. One can trace a quite definite influence of Shakespeare's sonnets24 in his language and imagery. The four sonnets, 'She to Him' (1866), are full of echoes, as:—
'Numb26 as a vane that cankers on its point
True to the wind that kissed ere canker came.'
or this from another sonnet25 of the same year:—
'As common chests encasing wares27 of price
Are borne with tenderness through halls of state.'
Yet no one reading the sonnets of these years can fail to mark the impress of an individual personality. The effect is, at times, curious and impressive in the extreme. We almost feel that Mr Hardy is bringing some physical compulsion to bear on Shakespeare and forcing him to say something that he does not want to say. Of course, it is merely a curious tweak of the fancy; but there comes to us in such lines as the following an insistent28 vision of two youths of an age the one masterful, the other indulgent, and carrying out his companion's firm suggestion:—
'Remembering mine the loss is, not the blame
That Sportsman Time rears but his brood to kill,
Knowing me in my soul the very same—
One who would die to spare you touch of ill!—
Will you not grant to old affection's claim
The hand of friendship down Life's sunless hill?'
But, fancies aside, the effect of these early poems is twofold. Their attitude is definite:—
'Crass29 Casualty obstructs30 the sun and rain
And dicing31 time for gladness calls a moan …
These purblind32 Doomsters had as readily thrown
Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain.'
and the technique has the mark of mastery, a complete economy of statement which produces the conviction that the words are saying only what poet ordained33 they should say, neither less nor more.
The early years were followed by the long period of the novels, in which, we are prepared to admit, poetry was actually if not in intention incidental. It is the grim truth that poetry cannot be written in between times; and, though we have hardly any dates on which to rely, we are willing to believe that few of Mr Hardy's characteristic poems were written between the appearance of Desperate Remedies and his farewell to the activity of novel-writing with The Well-Beloved (1897). But the few dates which we have tell us that 'Thoughts of Phena,' the beautiful poem beginning:—
'Not a line of her writing have I,
Not a thread of her hair….'
which reaches forward to the love poems of 1912-13, was written in 1890.
Whether the development of Mr Hardy's poetry was concealed34 or visible during the period of the novels, development there was into a maturity so overwhelming that by its touchstone the poetical work of his famous contemporaries appears singularly jejune35 and false. But, though by the accident of social conditions—for that Mr Hardy waited till 1898 to publish his first volume of poems is more a social than an artistic36 fact—it is impossible to follow out the phases of his poetical progress in the detail we would desire, it is impossible not to recognise that the mature poet, Mr Hardy, is of the same poetical substance as the young poet of the 'sixties. The attitude is unchanged; the modifications37 of the theme of 'crass casualty' leave its central asseveration unchanged. There are restatements, enlargements of perspective, a slow and forceful expansion of the personal into the universal, but the truth once recognised is never suffered for a moment to be hidden or mollified. Only a superficial logic38 would point, for instance, to his
'Wonder if Man's consciousness
Was a mistake of God's,'
as a denial of 'casualty.' To envisage39 an accepted truth from a new angle, to turn it over and over again in the mind in the hope of finding some aspect which might accord with a large and general view is the inevitable41 movement of any mind that is alive and not dead. To say that Mr Hardy has finally discovered unity may be paradoxical; but it is true. The harmony of the artist is not as the harmony of the preacher or the philosopher. Neither would grant, neither would understand the profound acquiescence42 that lies behind 'Adonais' or the 'Ode to the Grecian Urn40.' Such acquiescence has no moral quality, as morality is even now understood, nor any logical compulsion. It does not stifle43 anger nor deny anguish44; it turns no smiling face upon unsmiling things; it is not puffed45 up with the resonance46 of futile47 heroics. It accepts the things that are as the necessary basis of artistic creation. This unity which comes of the instinctive48 refusal in the great poet to deny experience, and subdues49 the self into the whole as part of that which is not denied, is to be found in every corner of Mr Hardy's mature poetry. It gives, as it alone can really give, to personal emotion what is called the impersonality50 of great poetry. We feel it as a sense of background, a conviction that a given poem is not the record, but the culmination51 of an experience, and that the experience of which it is the culmination is far larger and more profound than the one which it seems to record.
At the basis of great poetry lies an all-embracing realism, an adequacy to all experience, a refusal of the merely personal in exultation52 or dismay. Take the contrast between Rupert Brooke's deservedly famous lines: 'There is some corner of a foreign field …' and Mr Hardy's 'Drummer Hodge':—
'Yet portion of that unknown plain
Will Hodge for ever be;
His homely54 Northern heart and brain
Grow to some Southern tree,
And strange-eyed constellations55 reign53
His stars eternally.'
We know which is the truer. Which is the more beautiful? Is it not Mr Hardy? And which (strange question) is the more consoling, the more satisfying, the more acceptable? Is it not Mr Hardy? There is sorrow, but it is the sorrow of the spheres. And this, not the apparent anger and dismay of a self's discomfiture56, is the quality of greatness in Mr Hardy's poetry. The Mr Hardy of the love poems of 1912-13 is not a man giving way to memory in poetry; he is a great poet uttering the cry of the universe. A vast range of acknowledged experience returns to weight each syllable57; it is the quality of life that is vocal58, gathered into a moment of time with a vista59 of years:—
'Ignorant of what there is flitting here to see,
The waked birds preen60 and the seals flop61 lazily,
Soon you will have, Dear, to vanish from me,
For the stars close their shutters62 and the
Dawn whitens hazily63.
Trust me, I mind not, though Life lours
The bringing me here; nay64, bring me here again!
I am just the same as when
Our days were a joy and our paths through flowers.'
[NOVEMBER, 1919.
点击收听单词发音
1 hardy | |
adj.勇敢的,果断的,吃苦的;耐寒的 | |
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2 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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3 paradox | |
n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法;自相矛盾的人(物) | |
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4 persuasion | |
n.劝说;说服;持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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5 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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6 reluctance | |
n.厌恶,讨厌,勉强,不情愿 | |
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7 discretion | |
n.谨慎;随意处理 | |
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8 unity | |
n.团结,联合,统一;和睦,协调 | |
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9 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
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10 otiose | |
adj.无效的,没有用的 | |
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11 embark | |
vi.乘船,着手,从事,上飞机 | |
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12 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
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13 excellences | |
n.卓越( excellence的名词复数 );(只用于所修饰的名词后)杰出的;卓越的;出类拔萃的 | |
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14 poetic | |
adj.富有诗意的,有诗人气质的,善于抒情的 | |
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15 poetical | |
adj.似诗人的;诗一般的;韵文的;富有诗意的 | |
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16 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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17 riddles | |
n.谜(语)( riddle的名词复数 );猜不透的难题,难解之谜 | |
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18 thereby | |
adv.因此,从而 | |
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19 ominous | |
adj.不祥的,不吉的,预兆的,预示的 | |
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20 wrings | |
绞( wring的第三人称单数 ); 握紧(尤指别人的手); 把(湿衣服)拧干; 绞掉(水) | |
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21 immaturity | |
n.不成熟;未充分成长;未成熟;粗糙 | |
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22 maturity | |
n.成熟;完成;(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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23 juxtaposition | |
n.毗邻,并置,并列 | |
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24 sonnets | |
n.十四行诗( sonnet的名词复数 ) | |
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25 sonnet | |
n.十四行诗 | |
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26 numb | |
adj.麻木的,失去感觉的;v.使麻木 | |
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27 wares | |
n. 货物, 商品 | |
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28 insistent | |
adj.迫切的,坚持的 | |
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29 crass | |
adj.愚钝的,粗糙的;彻底的 | |
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30 obstructs | |
阻塞( obstruct的第三人称单数 ); 堵塞; 阻碍; 阻止 | |
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31 dicing | |
n.掷骰子,(皮革上的)菱形装饰v.将…切成小方块,切成丁( dice的现在分词 ) | |
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32 purblind | |
adj.半盲的;愚笨的 | |
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33 ordained | |
v.任命(某人)为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 );授予(某人)圣职;(上帝、法律等)命令;判定 | |
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34 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
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35 jejune | |
adj.枯燥无味的,贫瘠的 | |
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36 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
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37 modifications | |
n.缓和( modification的名词复数 );限制;更改;改变 | |
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38 logic | |
n.逻辑(学);逻辑性 | |
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39 envisage | |
v.想象,设想,展望,正视 | |
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40 urn | |
n.(有座脚的)瓮;坟墓;骨灰瓮 | |
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41 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
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42 acquiescence | |
n.默许;顺从 | |
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43 stifle | |
vt.使窒息;闷死;扼杀;抑止,阻止 | |
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44 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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45 puffed | |
adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 );喷着汽(或烟)移动;吹嘘;吹捧 | |
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46 resonance | |
n.洪亮;共鸣;共振 | |
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47 futile | |
adj.无效的,无用的,无希望的 | |
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48 instinctive | |
adj.(出于)本能的;直觉的;(出于)天性的 | |
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49 subdues | |
征服( subdue的第三人称单数 ); 克制; 制服 | |
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50 impersonality | |
n.无人情味 | |
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51 culmination | |
n.顶点;最高潮 | |
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52 exultation | |
n.狂喜,得意 | |
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53 reign | |
n.统治时期,统治,支配,盛行;v.占优势 | |
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54 homely | |
adj.家常的,简朴的;不漂亮的 | |
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55 constellations | |
n.星座( constellation的名词复数 );一群杰出人物;一系列(相关的想法、事物);一群(相关的人) | |
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56 discomfiture | |
n.崩溃;大败;挫败;困惑 | |
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57 syllable | |
n.音节;vt.分音节 | |
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58 vocal | |
adj.直言不讳的;嗓音的;n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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59 vista | |
n.远景,深景,展望,回想 | |
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60 preen | |
v.(人)打扮修饰 | |
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61 flop | |
n.失败(者),扑通一声;vi.笨重地行动,沉重地落下 | |
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62 shutters | |
百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 ); (照相机的)快门 | |
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63 hazily | |
ad. vaguely, not clear | |
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64 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
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