Letter to Charles Augustus Tulk
Another comment, from another
letter.
Highate, Thursday evening, 1818
...Blake's
Poems. - I begin with my dyspathies that I may forget them, and
have uninterrupted space for loves and sympathies. Title-page and
the following emblem contain all the faults of the drawings with as
few beauties as could be in the compositions of a man who was
capable of such faults and such beauties. The faulty despotism in
symbols amounting in the title-page to the
, and
occasionally, irregular unmodified lines of the inanimate,
sometimes as the effect of rigidity and sometimes of exossation
like a wet tendon. So likewise the ambiguity of the drapery. Is it
a garment or the body incised and scored out? The lumpness (the
effect of vinegar on an egg) in the upper one of the two prostrate
figures in the title-page, and the straight line down the waistcoat
of pinky goldbeaters' skin in the next drawing, with the I
don't-know-whatness of the countenance, as if the mouth had been
formed by the habit of placing the tongue not contemptuously, but
stupidly, between the lower gums and the lower jaw--these are the
only repulsive faults I have noticed. The figure, however,
of the second leaf, abstracted from the expression of the
countenance given it by something about the mouth, and the
interspace from the lower lip to the chin, is such as only a master
learned in his art could produce.
[I have changed the symbols used below, since STC didn't use
ascii characters in his grading system. I also put it into a table
to make it easier to read--he was more interested in saving space,
since at that time in England, the recipient paid the
postage.]
N.B.:
- *
- signifies `It gave me great pleasure.'
- **
- `Still greater.'
- ***
- `And greater still.'
- ****
- `In the highest degree.'
- 0
- `In the lowest.'
[Songs of Innocence]
- Shepherd
- *
- Spring
- * (last stanza, **)
- Holy
Thursday
- ***
- Laughing Song
- **
- Nurse's Song
- *
- The
Divine Image
- ****
- The
Lamb
- **
- The
little black Boy
- ****, yea **** + ****
- Infant
Joy
- *** (N.B. For the three last lines I should write, `When wilt
thou smile', or `O smile, O smile! I'll sing the while'. For a babe
two days old does not, cannot smile, and innocence and the very
truth of Nature must go together. Infancy is too holy a thing to be
ornamented).
- The Echoing
Green
- * (the figures **, and of the second leaf, ***)
- The Cradle Song
- *
- The
School Boy
- ***
-
Night
- ****
- On another's Sorrow
- *
- A Dream
- ?
- The little boy lost
- * (the drawing **)
- The little boy found
- *
- The Blossom
- 0
- The
Chimney Sweeper
- 0
- The Voice of the Ancient Bard
- 0
[Songs of Experience]
-
Introduction
- **
- Earth's
Answer
- **
- Infant Sorrow
- *
-
The Clod and the Pebble
- *
-
The Garden of Love
- **
- The Fly
- *
-
The Tyger
- **
- A little boy lost
- **
- Holy
Thursday
- *
- Nurse's Song
- 0?
- The little girl lost and found
- (the ornaments most exquisite! the poem, *)
- Chimney
Sweeper in the Snow
- 0
- To Tirzah, and the
Poison Tree
- *--and yet 0
- A little Girl lost
- 0 (I would have had it omitted, not for the want of innocence
in the poem, but from the too probable want of it in many
readers.)
-
London
- *
- The
Sick Rose
- *
- The little Vagabond
- 0 [he underlined his symbol here] Though I cannot
approve altogether of this last poem, and have been inclined to
think that the error which is most likely to beset the scholars of
Emmanuel
Swedenborg is that of utterly demerging the tremendous
incompatibilities with an evil will that arise out of the essential
Holiness of the abysmal A-siety in the love of the Eternal
Person, and thus giving temptation to weak minds to sink this
love and itself into Good Nature, yet still I disapprove the
mood of mind in this wild poem so much less than I do the servile
blind-worm, wrap-rascal scurf-coat of fear of the
modern Saint (whose whole being is a lie, to themselves as well
as to their brethren), that I should laugh with good conscience in
watching a Saint of the new stamp, one of the first stars of our
eleemonsynary advertisements, groaning in wind-pipe! and with the
whites of his eyes upraised at the audacity of this poem!
Anything rather than this degradation I of Humanity, and therein of
the Incarnate Divinity!
S.T.C.
0 means that I am perplexed and have no opinion.
*, with which how can we utter `Our Father'?
[Don't expect me to translate all this!]