Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772–1834)

It’s frustrating that the book description on Goodreads of this edition of Coleridge’s Biographia Literaria should perpetuate the traditional account of its genesis, an account that the editor, George Watson, takes pains to refute.

Watson describes the origins of the book, dating back to more than fifteen years before its eventual publication. From the outset, Coleridge intended a work that would reflect his dual interest in philosophy and poetry. Watson concedes that the formal design of show more the book cannot be defended, but argues that Coleridge succeeded “for the first and (so far) for the last time in English criticism” in “discovering a causal link between the two” in the poet’s imagination, set out by Coleridge in chapters 12 and 13, the heart of the book. Hitherto, “imagination” and “fancy” had been used interchangeably, but Coleridge differentiates the two, assigning to imagination, especially the poetic imagination, the power to dissolve sense perceptions to recreate, idealize, or unify them. In contrast, fancy, a lesser power, can only recall, with its creativity limited to association. At least that’s what I make of it, though I had a hard time following his discussion. He even coined a term to describe this faculty, “esemplastic” (the power to form into one), but this hasn’t caught on.

This achievement has been clouded not only by the ever-perpetuated tale that the Biographia is nothing more than an overgrown preface to a collection of poems, but also because a printer’s miscalculation forced Coleridge to hurriedly pad the manuscript at the last minute. This edition omits the padding and thus, Watson claims, is “the first to present the Biographia as nearly as possible according to the author’s intention.”

I can understand the widespread currency of the “garrulous preface” legend, however. Like a magpie, Coleridge seems to hop about, collecting shiny objects. The result: a fascinating record of a lively mind. He read widely and thought deeply, but the fecundity of his mind seems to have sabotaged his production. The footnotes of this book teem with announcements of forthcoming projects that never saw the light of day, mirroring the fifteen-year gap between plan and execution of this book.

One of the pleasures of reading Biographia was to follow a great literary critic at work as he shows by precept and example what makes great poetry. I noted several passages, including this: “The ultimate end of criticism is much more to establish the principles of writing than to furnish rules how to pass judgement on what has been written by others; if indeed it were possible that the two could be separated.” Coleridge’s work as a great critic is supported by his acute psychological insight.

One of Coleridge’s notable services rendered was to transmit the best of contemporary German philosophy to the English-speaking world. This book includes lengthy passages translated from Schelling and Lessing. He names both, but should have been clearer about where their words (in his translation) begin and end. His carelessness left him open to charges of plagiarism. He, in turn, felt misunderstood, one of many things that rankled him when others criticized his work. No doubt much of the criticism was unjustified, but his counterattacks are some of the least enjoyable passages in this book.

Still, overall, I enjoyed the book and learned a great deal from it. show less

This is a revisit, I spent a couple of months reading and rereading -- and I'm glad to have done it. Moving on to Wordsworth now. I have to confess that at this juncture in my life I am as much if not more interested in the romantic poets in the context of their time period. I am not done with Coleridge the man and philosopher -- will read his essay on the connection between the poet and the scientist, for example and maybe a biography. He exemplifies the response of an educated and show more thoughtful person during a period of almost epic change in every sphere of life. Some of his poems are surprisingly racy, btw, but are I guess the result of his opium adventures which tend to loosen inhibitions--but this conflicts with his conservatism and faith. Two poems grabbed me by the throat- in the first he takes his fretful son out to see the moon:

lines 97 to 106 in The Nightingale

". . . . . . . . . . . . He knows well
The evening star; and once when he awoke
In most distressful mood (some inward pain
Had made up that strange thing, an infant's dream--)
I hurried with him to our orchard-plot,
And he beheld the moon, and, hushed at once,
Suspends his sobs, and laughs most silently,
While his fair eyes, that swam with undropped tears,
Did glitter in the yellow moon-beam! Well!--
It is a father's tale . . . "

and A Sunset
Upon the mountain's edge with light touch resting,
There a brief while the globe of splendour sits
And seems a creature of the earth, but soon
More changeful than the Moon,
To wane fantastic his great orb submits,
Or cone or mow of fire: till sinking slowly
Even to a star he lessens wholly.

Abrupt, as Spirits vanish, he is sunk!
A soul-like breeze possesses all the wood.
The boughs, the sprays have stood
As motionless as stands the ancient trunk!
But every leaf through all the forest flutters,
And deep the cavern of the fountain mutters. show less

Basically a horror story--the awful power unleashed when a thoughtless man makes a single mistake against the spirit world. The images are as scary as any modern movie. Even more relevant now as a tale of despoiling the earth. Timeless!

After enjoying the Big Read presentation of Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” on YouTube, I found I couldn’t get the poem out of my mind. The annotated edition by Martin Gardner was perfect for delving deeper into this ballad. Gardner’s notes are primarily on the version printed in Coleridge’s Poetical Works, 1834, but he also includes the original text as published in Lyrical Ballads, the poet’s joint venture with Wordsworth in 1798.
Gardner provides a short biography show more and a brief survey of critical interpretations as well.
Gardner’s notes range from philological explanations of archaic words to the religious and philosophical underpinnings of the work. Drawing on the work of previous scholars, which he acknowledges, Gardner also shows the way Coleridge mined many works of sea travel for details. He also explains the science behind many of the observations, such as the luminescence of the ocean at night and the polar lights.
As I had hoped, this book helped me to have a deeper appreciation of this strange poem, especially how Coleridge’s attention to realistic description made the supernatural elements resonate in the imagination. show less