Comparative literature; Degeneration; Europe -- Intellectual life
This is because the methods of a highly emotional, but intellectually
incapable, dreamer suffice for poetry which deals exclusively with
moods, but this is the inexorable limit of his power. Let the true
meaning of mood be always present with us. The word denotes a state of
mind, in which, through organic excitations which it cannot directly
perceive, consciousness is filled with presentations of a uniform
nature, which it elaborates with greater or less clearness, and one
and all of which relate to those organic excitations inaccessible to
consciousness. The mere succession of words, giving a name to these
presentations, the roots of which are in the unknown, expresses
the mood, and is able to awaken it in another. It has no need of a
fundamental thought, or of a progressive exposition to unfold it.
Verlaine often attains to astonishing effects in such poetry of moods.
Where, however, distinct vision, or a feeling the motive of which is
clear to consciousness, or a process well delimitated in time and
space, is to be poetically rendered, the poetic art of the emotional
imbecile fails utterly. In a healthy and sane poet even the mood
pure and simple is united to clear presentations, and is not a mere
undulation of fragrance and rose-tinted mist. Poems like Goethe’s
_Ueber allen Gipfeln ist Ruh_, _Der Fischer_, or _Freudvoll und
leidvoll_, can never be created by the emotionally degenerate; but,
on the other hand, the most marvellous of Goethe’s poems are not so
utterly incorporeal, not such mere sighs, as three or four of the best
of a Verlaine.
We have now the portrait of this most famous leader of the Symbolists
clearly before us. We see a repulsive degenerate subject with
asymmetric skull and Mongolian face, an impulsive vagabond and
dipsomaniac, who, under the most disgraceful circumstances, was placed
in gaol; an emotional dreamer of feeble intellect, who painfully fights
against his bad impulses, and in his misery often utters touching
notes of complaint; a mystic whose qualmish consciousness is flooded
with ideas of God and saints, and a dotard who manifests the absence
of any definite thought in his mind by incoherent speech, meaningless
expressions and motley images. In lunatic asylums there are many
patients whose disease is less deep-seated and incurable than is that
of this irresponsible _circulaire_ at large, whom only ignorant judges
could have condemned for his epileptoid crimes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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