Study Guide to The Metaphysical Poets

Intelligent Education

• Publisher: Influence Publishers
• Year: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781645424635
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Manuali di studio
• Subtopic: Guide di studio

A comprehensive study guide offering in-depth explanation, essay, and test prep for the metaphysical poets, including Abraham Cowley, George Herbert, John Donne, and Henry Vaughn. These four poets are recognized for a greater emphasis on the spoken rather than lyrical quality of verse. As a collection of 17th century poetry, these works portrayed a new perspective into English poetry by the innovative and originality of their approach. Moreover, they employed this new approach by their reliance on intellectual wit, imagery, and subtle argument. This Bright Notes Study Guide includes notes and commentary on literary classics such as The Wish by Abraham Cowley, The Altar by George Herbert, Satyres by John Donne, and The World by Henry Vaughn, helping students to thoroughly explore the reasons they have stood the literary test of time. Each Bright Notes Study Guide contains: - Introductions to the Author and the Work
- Character Summaries
- Plot Guides
- Section and Chapter Overviews
- Test Essay and Study Q&As The Bright Notes Study Guide series offers an in-depth tour of more than 275 classic works of literature, exploring characters, critical commentary, historical background, plots, and themes. This set of study guides encourages readers to dig deeper in their understanding by including essay questions and answers as well as topics for further research.

INTRODUCTION TO JOHN DONNE

 

EARLY LIFE

John Donne was born in 1572, of well-to-do Roman Catholic parents. His early training was received under the Jesuits, from whom he undoubtedly learned much of the subtle scholastic logic which enhances (or infects) his poetry, but from who he must also have received instruction in the devotional attitudes which inform so much of his religious verse. He had roots going deep into medieval Catholicism. (His brother died in Newgate prison, where he had been confined for harboring a priest.) For some time after 1584 Donne attended the universities of Oxford and Cambridge, but was debarred, as a Catholic, from taking a degree. In his early twenties (the 1590s) he took part in London social life, while reading law at the Inns of Court, and it is from this period that most of his love lyrics, as well as the satires and elegies must date. He was beset by religious doubts and was probably reading deeply in theological literature, in the effort to settle upon some religious persuasion.

BEGINNING CAREER AND MARRIAGE

In 1596 - 97 he was a member of the Spanish expedition led by Essex, and, upon his return in 1598, received an appointment as secretary to Sir Thomas Egerton. During this time he fell in love with Ann More, the niece of Sir Thomas Egerton’s second wife, and they were secretly married in 1601. (Walton, in his Life of Dr. John Donne, calls it “the remarkable error of his life.”) Ann’s irate father, Sir George More, succeeded in having Donne dismissed and cast into prison. By 1609 he had been reconciled to Donne, at least to the extent of paying a dowry, but the intervening years must have been a continual search for a patron. In 1611 Donne published his An Anatomie of the World (The First Anniversary), an extravagant elegy on the death of a young girl unknown to him, but a poem with profound philosophical ramifications. She was Elizabeth Drury, the daughter of Sir Robert Drury, who, as a result of the hyperbolical praise lavished on his daughter, became Donne’s benefactor and patron, providing him with a house, which Donne with his fast-growing family was sorely in need of. In 1612 there followed The Progresse of the Soule (The Second Anniversary), an equally extravagant and obscure poem in memory of Elizabeth Drury.

FURTHUR WRITINGS AND LATER LIFE

At this time he was also giving expression to serious reflections in prose, writing Biathanatos (1608), an analysis of the morality of suicide, Essayes in Divinity (1614), Pseudo-Martyr (1610), a defense of the opinion that Catholics should take the Oath of Allegiance, and Ignatius His Conclave (1611), a satire built around the rival claims of various “new thinkers” to Ignatius’ throne in Hell; only the last two were published, the former two being printed after Donne’s death. When it became clear that preferments would be open to him only if he entered Holy Orders, Donne was ordained in the Anglican church in 1615. For some years after 1616 he preached at Lincoln’s Inn, where, in the 1590s he had studied and made many friends. The great tragedy and permanent sorrow of his life was the death of his wife in 1617. Ann More, through all the poverty and uncertainty they had faced together, had borne him twelve children, seven of whom survived. In 1621 Donne was made Dean of St. Paul’s, in which post he composed and preached many of the voluminous sermons he left behind. A serious illness in 1623 produced his Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions (containing, among others, the famous “No man is an island” and “Ask not for whom the bell tolls” passages). In 1631 he rose from his sickbed and preached the famous sermon known as Death’s Duel before the King. He died shortly thereafter.

BRIEF SUMMARY OF THE POETRY OF DONNE

Songs And Sonnets

These are the poems most often read and studied. Probably written mainly in the 1590s, they display a variety of attitudes ranging from cynical wit, through impudent jocularity, to genuine passion. They are difficult, “witty” performances, for the most part, showing the effect of Donne’s wide reading and scholastic training. Though some of the lyrics are songs (and, if fact, a number were set to music) the majority are marked by irregular and difficult rhythms and grammatical complication, which, together with their devil-may-care tone, have given Donne a reputation as a very “masculine” sort of poet. (It is significant that what we call “metaphysical” wit was referred to in the seventeenth century as “strong lines.”) He challenges stale, conventional poses, such as the literary posturing of Courtly Love poets, applies ingenious scholastic subtleties (such as the difference between essence and existence) to the analysis of the emotions of lovers, insists upon seeing present human joys and delights in the light of the dissolution which awaits us in the grave, and generally flies in the face of the pretty, sanctified notions about men and women in love which had permeated the love poetry of the preceding decades.

In these poems we are confronted by the immemorial war between the body and the soul, strained through a subtle intelligence and a sensitive spirit. The “metaphysical” style, as we encounter it in these poems, seems the natural vehicle for expressing a sense of the tensions between matter and spirit, faith and reason, between comfortable Aristotelian cosmology and disturbing “new philosophy.” If, as Johnson remarked, the metaphysical poets “yoked their images together by violence,” that violence was an inheritance from a century of theological, philosophical, and political wrangling, and would continue through the Jacobean period to culminate in a bloody civil war.

Other Short Poems

The Elegies, which witty, gay (and in some instances, frankly sensual) performances in the style of Ovid, and deal with such subjects as the betrayal to his mistress’ father of a secret lover by the scent from the perfume he wore, probably belong to the carefree early days. So too with the Satyres, which deal with fops, venal lawyers, religious sectaries, fawning courtiers, and a number of other “humorous” types to be found in the London of the 1590s. The Verse Letters are difficult to date and assign; they are frequently merely exaggerated compliments, showing Donne in the guise of one who had to seek out and maintain favorable alliances, but their range proves him to have had a wide group of acquaintances among the court circle.

Elegies

Donne composed a number of “epicedes and obsequies” on the occasion of the deaths of famous persons (like that on Prince Henry) or those connected with the families of his patrons (such as the poem on the death of Lord Harrington, brother of the Countess of Bedford). The most impressive poems of this type are of course the two Anniversaries, written ostensibly to mourn the passing of Elizabeth Drury, but actually developing ingeniously and with elaborate cosmological reference, the theme of the “decay of the world” in his time.

Divine Poems

These consist chiefly of the La Corona poems (a sequence of seven sonnets, artfully woven together by theme and phrasing), translations from the Psalms, the nineteen Holy Sonnets (among which are the “Death be not proud” and “Batter my heart” sonnets), which contain some of Donne’s most vivid imagery as well as his most genuine emotion, and a number of individual pieces, of which Goodfriday, 1613. Riding Westward, and the two Hymns (To God the Father, and In my Sicknesse) are the most enduring. At least one of the criteria by which Donne will probably continue to exceed Herbert and the other metaphysical poets in reputation, is his unquestioned mastery of both the love lyric and the short devotional poem.

THE METAPHYSICAL POETS

THE ANNIVERSARY POEMS

The two Anniversaries are not only the most baffling productions of Donne’s poetical career, but stand among the great curiosities of English literary history. The poems were occasioned by the death of Elizabeth Drury, the fifteen-year-old daughter of Sir Robert Drury, and were presumably composed by Donne with the design of eliciting the patronage of Sir Robert. As with so many “occasional” poems, Milton’s Lycidas perhaps being the outstanding example, the Anniversaries thoroughly transcend the limited significance of a young girl’s death, and provide Donne with the opportunity of putting into verse his sense of the break-up of the old world order, a vision which was fleshed out in terms of the enormous learning (truly encyclopedic) which Donne possessed. As complimentary verses to a girl Donne had never met, they ran the obvious risk of being regarded as fantastically extravagant in their praise, precisely what Jonson meant when he remarked that “if it had been written to the Virgin Mary it had been something.”

THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY, AN ANATOMIE OF THE WORLD,

Wherein, by Occasion of the untimely death of Mistris Elizabeth Drury, the frailty and decay of this whole world is represented [1611]: The 474 lines of the poem fall naturally into seven parts: an introduction and an ending, with the middle (the “anatomy” proper) divided into five parts, the final section of each beginning with the words, “Shee, shee is dead; shee’s dead: when thou knowest this, / Thou knowest how. . . .” This is then followed by a termination appropriate to the part of the anatomy being discussed.

Comment

There are three ideas entering into the basic fiction or metaphor of the poem:

1) The popular theory that the world was running down, and that it was now in its last age.

2) The macrocosm/microcosm conceit, which allows for the world to be treated here as a human body.

3) The meaning of an “anatomy,” which was a public lecture in which the teaching doctor read from the works of Galen, while an assistant performed the dissection of the corpse.

The word “anatomy” was of course coming into use as a description of any sort of detailed written analysis, as, for instance, Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy.

Introduction (vv. 1 - 60): When that “rich Soule” (Elizabeth Drury’s), like a Queen ending her journey through the realm, left for heaven, the world languished, its “vital spirits” being drawn out in the common tears of grief. It then began to suffer from an ague, which (on the mistaken notion that an ague, or shaking fit, was a means to health) caused men to think it well, when in fact it was in a “lethargy,” having lost “sense and memory,” as well as speech. “Her name defin’d thee, gave thee forme, and frame,” and you (the World) have forgotten that name, thinking it “some blasphemy” to say she was dead. Since it is too late to attempt a cure of the world, its “intrinsic balm” being gone, the poet will see what can be gained by an anatomy.

First Division (vv. 61 - 190): Her death teaches that the world is “corrupt and mortal in [its] purest part,” yet, even though by her death the World itself is dead, the anatomy is not useless, since her ghost still walks; that is, there is still a weak love of virtue and good, which is creating a new world from the carcass of the old. This new world can arm itself with the knowledge of danger and disease, and thus be made safer.

There is no health. Even in birth, children come head first and thus “fall upon an ominous precipitation.” Woman, meant to be a helpmate for man, is the cause of his languishment, and having killed us all at one blow, they kill us singly, as “we will ourselves to propagate our kind” (intercourse shortens life). What has happened to that first age when man lived longer than stag or raven, and was great in size and absolutely erect in stature? Man is now “contracted to an inch, who was a spanne.”

But this were light, did our lesse volume hold All the old Text; or had wee chang’d to gold Their silver; or dispos’d into lesse glasse Spirits of vertue, which then scatter’d was.

Comment

This is a complicated set of images. First of all, there is a pun on the word “volume” (both book and volumetric capacity), but it seems also to suggest the relationship of the New and Old Testaments, on the principle (common in Biblical exegesis) that the New Testament, though shorter than the Old, is the fulfillment of it (hence, contains it all). Similarly, the silver of the post-Academic men (they lived in the Silver Age) might have become gold, which is not only more precious but more dense (hence, contains the same amount in less volume). So too with the “spirits of vertue,” chemically (or alchemically) extracted from a greater mass, and thus concentrated.

But none of this is so. Our bodies and minds both are “cramped,” and we seem to be trying to undo God’s work. Man is now a trifle, and a poor thing, since “with her whom we lament, he lost his heart.” She, in whom virtue was so much refined, who could drive out the poisonous ...