Life of John Keats: His Life and Poetry, His Friends, Critics and After-FameColvin, Sidney
General
Life of John Keats: His Life and Poetry, His Friends, Critics and After-Fame
Colvin, Sidney
Keats, John, 1795-1821; Poets, English -- 19th century -- Biography
Minor achievements--_Bards of Passion and of Mirth_--_Fancy_--The
tales--_Isabella_--Story and metre--Influence of Chaucer--Apostrophes
and invocations--Horror turned to beauty--The digging scene--Its
quality--_The Eve of St Agnes_--Variety of sources--Boccaccio's
_Filocolo_--Poetic scope and method--Examples--The unrobing scene--The
feast of fruits--A rounded close--_Lamia_--Sources: and a
comparison--Metre and quality--Beauties and faults--Perplexing
moral--The sage denounced: why?--Comments of Leigh Hunt--The odes: _To
Psyche_--Sources: Burton and Apuleius--Qualities: A questionable
claim--_On Indolence_--_On a Grecian Urn_--Sources: a
composite--Spheres of art and life contrasted--Play between the two
spheres--The Nightingale ode--_Ode on Melancholy_--A grand close--The
last of the odes--_To Autumn_.
The work of Keats's two mature years (if any poet or man in his
twenty-third and twenty-fourth years can be called mature) seems to
divide itself naturally into two main groups or classes. One class
consists of his finished achievements, things successfully carried
through in accordance with his first intention; the other of his
fragments and experiments, things begun and broken off either from
external causes or because in the execution the poet changed his mind or
his inspiration failed to sustain itself. I shall ask the reader to
consider the two classes separately, the achievements first: not because
there may not be even finer work in some of the fragments, but because a
thing incomplete, a torso, however splendid in power and promise, cannot
be judged on the same terms or with the same approach to finality as a
thing of which the whole is before us. One finished thing only, the
play of _Otho the Great_, I shall turn over to the second or
experimental class, seeing that an experiment it essentially was, and
one tried under conditions which made it impossible for Keats to be his
true self.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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