The closer we get to July 4, the flood of articles relating to America’s 250th anniversary is becoming a tsunami. Emerging Revolutionary War Era is starting a new video series. One of America’s founders chronicled the beginning in sonnets. Benedict Arnold, whose name became synonymous with treason, was first a hero on more than one occasion. The U.S. Army Museum at Fort Belvoir, Virginia, is using “augmented reality” to bring the revolution to life. And there are more links below.
I think I was 10 or 11 when I started stamp collecting, a hobby that lasted off and on right up to now. One stamp that also seemed financially out of reach was the very first one – the “Penny Black” issued by Great Britain in 1840. It’s still financially out of reach, at least for most of us. But it transformed how letters were mailed, and it made postal management possible on a national and international scale.
Some 40 years ago, when I was in a graduate seminar on the Latin American novel, I was trying to tackle Conversations in the Cathedral by Mario Vargas Llosa for my seminar research paper and oral presentation. About 100 pages in (it’s a 600-page novel), I almost gave up in despair. I couldn’t figure out what the story was about. Instead, I started over, but this time I briefly outlined each chapter. After the first five chapters, I cracked the code. It was actually a narrative of four interrelated stories, each one told in successive chapters. So the story in chapter one picked up in chapter five, nine, and so on. Maybe it was the work I put into it, but Conversation in the Cathedral remains one of my favorite novels. Henry Oliver at The Common Reader has some observations about difficult writing and difficult novels and poems.
In her 2021 poetry collection, To Shatter Glass, Sr. Sharon Hunter explored childhood and memory, an interior pilgrimage toward understanding and forgiveness. Her new collection, Light Before the Sun, continues that pilgrimage, but it goes beyond, toward something that is more like acceptance and resolution.
“Life is a stained-glass window,” she writes, using the metaphor to suggest light, color, and brokenness. She will be looking back before she looks forward, and she will the brokenness and dysfunction of the relationships that shaped a childhood, but she will also see the beauty and the purpose within it.
Like many literary terms, “metaphysical poetry” was not something that the designated poets themselves invented. Instead, in the decades after they flourished, it was John Dryden (1631-1700) and Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) who popularized the description. They did not mean it as a compliment. Instead, they saw this group of 16th century poets as writers who abandoned the rules of poetry and created something unnatural. It wasn’t until the 20th century, led by figures like T.S. Eliot, that the metaphysical poets were seen as something important and creative in and of themselves.
The five poets usually labeled as “metaphysical” were John Donne (1572-1631), Henry Vaughn (1621-1695), George Herbert (1593-1633), Andrew Marvell (1621-1678), and Richard Crashaw (1613-1649). Sometimes a sixth is added, that of John Milton (1608-1674), but Milton doesn’t quite fit what the other five were about. One of Donne’s short poems has entered the collective consciousness, with its famous lines of “No man is an island” and “For whom the bell tolls.”
Using conversational, everyday language, the metaphysical poets wrestled with big ideas. They often abandoned meter to delve deeper into what they were writing about. Three of them – Vaughn, Marvell, and Crashaw – lived and wrote through the tumultuous decades of the English Civil War, the execution of Charles I, the protectorate under Oliver Cromwell, and the restoration of the Stuart monarchy. Crashaw was an exile who died in poverty.
Poet, writer, and editor D.S. Martin finds the metaphysical poets to be inspirational and creative. And he’s published a poetry collection, The Role of the Moon, to pay tribute.
