Gaston de Blondeville, vol. 1 of 4 : $b or the court of Henry III. keeping festival in Ardenne, a romance. St. Alban's abbey, a metrical tale; with some poetical piecesRadcliffe, Ann Ward
History
Gaston de Blondeville, vol. 1 of 4 : $b or the court of Henry III. keeping festival in Ardenne, a romance. St. Alban's abbey, a metrical tale; with some poetical pieces
Radcliffe, Ann Ward
Gothic fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Henry III, 1216-1272 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
There are various modes, in which the supernatural may be employed,
requiring more or less of a dextrous sympathy, in proportion to the
depth and seriousness of the feeling, which the author proposes to
awaken. In cases where the appeal is only made to the fancy, it is
sufficient if the pictures are consistent with themselves, without any
reference to the prejudices, or passions, of those, before whom they are
presented. To this class the fables of the Greek mythology belong,
notwithstanding their infinite varieties of grandeur and beauty. They
are too bright and palpable to produce emotions of awe, even among
those, who professed to believe them; and rather tended to inclose the
sphere of mortal vision, which they adorned and gladdened, with more
definite boundaries, than to intimate the obscure and eternal. Instead
of wearing, then, the solemn aspect of antiquity, they seem, even now,
touched with the bloom of an imperishable youth. The gorgeous Oriental
fictions and modern tales of fairy lore are also merely fantastical, and
advance no claim on faith, or feeling. Their authors escape from the
laws of matter, without deriving any power from the functions of spirit;
they are rather without than above nature, and seek only an excuse in
the name of the supernatural for their graceful vagaries. Akin
essentially to these are mere tales of terror, in which horrors are
accumulated on horrors. Beyond the precincts of the nursery, they are
nothing but a succession of scenic representations—a finely coloured
phantasmagoria, which may strike the fancy, but do not chill the blood,
and soon weary the spectator. It is only the “eye of childhood” which
“fears a painted devil.” In some of the wild German tales, indeed, there
is, occasionally, a forcible exaggeration of truth, which strikes for a
moment, and seems to give back the memory of a forgotten dream. But none
of these works, whatever poetical merit they may possess, have the power
to fascinate and appal, by touching those secret strings of mortal
apprehension, which connect our earthly with our spiritual being.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account