A history of criticism and literary taste in Europe, from the earliest texts to the present day. Volume 3 (of 3), Modern criticismSaintsbury, George
History
A history of criticism and literary taste in Europe, from the earliest texts to the present day. Volume 3 (of 3), Modern criticism
Saintsbury, George
Criticism -- History; Literature -- History and criticism; Literature, Medieval
This is the most striking instance, the most astounding at first, the
most illuminative afterwards; and it will give us a key to all the rest.
It must for instance be a fresh stumbling-block, and no small one, to
find Joubert, who could prefer Delille to Milton, quite cool, almost
harsh, to Racine, saying that Racine is “the Virgil of the ignorant,”
that those whom he suffices are “poor souls and poor wits.” But the way
round the obstacle is perfectly clear to the practised traveller in our
country. Racine’s was not the poetry of Joubert’s own time and
generation; Delille’s was. His language, his words, his imagery could
convey whatsoever of poetry was in them—though it might not be very
much—to Joubert’s ears and wit and soul better than Racine’s could. And
once more, as those ears and wit and soul were exquisitely sensitive to
even a trace of poetry that _did_ reach them, the difficulty becomes no
difficulty at all, but, on the contrary, a real paradox of the most
illuminating and helpful kind, constantly to be remembered, and
especially good against those estimable doctrinaires who will have a
hard and fast hierarchy in poetry, a “best, better, good, not so good,
bad,” arranged in rigid classes. _That is poetry to a man which produces
on him such poetical effects as he is capable of receiving._ The reader
takes it, as the writer makes it, _poeticamente_. You may possibly—it is
not certain, but it is possible—_educate_ his poetic sense; say to it,
“Friend, come up higher.” You may certainly remove merely mechanical
obstacles, such as Joubert’s ignorance of English. But until something
of this kind is done, it is better that the man should even excessively
admire Burns or Béranger, Macaulay or Moore, than that he should
simulate admiration of Shelley, or Hugo, or Heine. It would be pleasant
to dwell on this, which has never, I think, been dwelt upon, or
expounded fully before; but words to the wise must be here, as always,
our motto: the hints given can easily here, as elsewhere, be expanded by
those who have the wits and the inclination.
[Sidenote: _Additional illustrations._]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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