The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 13, No. 79, May, 1864: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
Religion
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 13, No. 79, May, 1864: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
But the faults which characterize "Sordello" are not prevalent in the
subsequent writings which are loosely accused of them. They become
afterwards exceptional, they vein here and there the surface, and Mr.
Average stumbles over them and proceeds no farther. Still, Mr.
Browning's verse is not easy reading. He is economical of words to the
point of harmony; but what a hypocrite he would be, if he used more! He
brings you meaning, if you bring him mind; and there is Tupper outside,
if you don't care to trouble yourself. In saying this we are not
arrogant at all, for there is a large and widening sympathy with Mr.
Browning's thought. Perhaps a whole generation of readers will fretfully
break itself upon his style, and pass away, before the mind hails with
ease his merits. But is Shakspeare's verse easy reading? Not to this
day, in spite of his level of common sense, the artlessness of his
passion, and the broad simplicity of a great imagination, that causeth
its sun to shine on the evil and the good. It was easy reading to Ben
Jonson, to Milton, and to Chapman; it took "Eliza and our James"; it had
more theatrical success than the scholarly plays of Jonson: but two or
three centuries have exhausted neither his commentators nor the subtile
parts that need a comment. A good deal of Shakspeare is read, but the
rest is caviare to the multitude. We need not comfort ourselves on the
facility with which we take his name in vain. We venture to say that the
whole of Shakspeare's thought is inwardly tasted by as many people as
enjoy the subtilty of Robert Browning. Shakspeare has broader places
over which the waters lie, sweet and warm, to tempt disporting crowds,
and places deep as human nature, upon whose brink the pleasure-seekers
peer and shudder. But if Mr. Browning had a theatrical ability equal to
his dramatic, and were content to exhibit a greater number of the
stock-figures of humanity, men would say that here again they had love
that maddened and grief that shattered, murdering ambition, humorous
weakness, and imagination that remarries man and Nature.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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