Novalis: A Tribute

[jdeirmend]

third revision

Novalis

I.

Not long after his final song played out,
his friends and colleagues put him down in turn:
as if his Hymns left them no room to doubt,
that Night was nothing fit for one to yearn.
Like frost, their whispers clung to mortared walls,
of Academe, where icy forms congealed,
in Reason’s shape, throughout each of the halls,
stifling such warmth his Heart never concealed.
Yet though Sophia’s absence stirred his grief,
the hollow left behind made space to grow:
with wisdom’s pretense shed for true belief,
as often, men must feel what they can’t know.
And so his fertile tears fallowed the earth,
from which such azure blossoms came to birth!

II.

I struggle to envision him beside,
her grave, a scene that seems from out of time.
I ask they who fancy themselves allied,
with Logos, if they can do more than mime,
his words, which cast for us a silhouette,
whose backlight penetrates the Wasteland through,
and offer those who’d listen a vignette:
the glowing glimpse of an epoch more true.
Amid the sparks of all such remembrance,
that glimmering day of mourning now comes clear:
as his mind’s eye lost mortal encumbrance,
and rose to Night’s abode so far from here.
Thus devotion thrust his spirit above,
as wind to feather, so fierce was his love.

III.

Today, we’re greeted by the sun’s risings,
that burn the Night, as eldritch fog away,
and compel our concern towards worldly things,
stranded amid the mundane tones of Day.
Our Learned Men never cease to expound,
that in each case an object lies beneath:
as if by measurement they’d finally found,
the clockwork for which Spirit’s but the sheath.
And yet, no calculation can compare,
to rapture, as a lover’s hand grips mine:
nor to the glories that the Hymns lay bare,
to me, as I imbibe each verse and line.
Against all time, their secret speaks softly:
Losing itself, love gains Eternity.

first draft

Not long after his final song was sung
did friend and colleague put him down in turn
as if the world from it a sickness flung:
a rash, wrought by how bright his star did burn.
Like smoke, their whispers clung to the arid
halls of Academe, where sterile thought
curbed every trace of any tender bid
could move a heart to seek the things he sought.
Yet all such men fail thereby represent
what still remains the greatest human wealth
and lay in what is labeled sentiment
with scorn, by those who’ll never know the health –
of he, whose tears of loss fallowed the earth
from which such azure blossoms came to birth!

NOTES: I tried to take all criticism to heart, eliminate the Yoda-speak, trim up the meter, etc. Thanks to those who contributed; even so, I'm not terribly excited about how this poem turned out, so I'll probably just move on to something new.

In its defense, I'll say that if you know nothing of the story of Novalis and his fiance, this poem will likely mean much less to you than if you did. He is a fascinating figure. At least, he was fascinating enough for greats such as Herman Hesse to find a great deal of inspiration from. This poem was meant as a tribute to Novalis, in light of the fact that his lover's death was the event that congealed his magnum opus. After reading it through and meditating upon it, I would stake the claim that the latter contains no discernible trace of unresolved bitterness or resignation, but only the rapture of one whose suffering served to elevate his spirit. If anyone is interested in broadening their horizons, they can find a link to an English translation by one of Novalis' most loving students, George MacDonald, here:

http://www.logopoeia.com/novalis/hymns.html

Novalis was also decried by many contemporaries, including the idealist philosophers Schelling and Hegel, for being what modern parlance might call "too emotional." I try to highlight the logocentric bias of those who would so quickly criticize a man of his disposition. If you're confused about the ending reference, Google "the blue flower," which was Novalis' pet symbol for an impossible/ideal object of desire.

[Erthona]

English romanticism I know, German, not so much. The form here appears to be a syllabic sonnet, as it has ten syllables per line, but no consistent meter, although in a number of lines it follows IP closely. Of course the same problems that arise in a sonnet that is written in IP, also arise here, that is flipped syntax, sometimes known as Yoda speech.

"as if the world from it a sickness flung:
a rash, wrought by how bright his star did burn."

Some lines are awkward regardless of the form one might wish to attach to them such as:

"Like smoke, their whispers clung to the arid"

this does lead into the next line that starts on a half foot, but is in IP.

"halls of Academe, where sterile thought"

Still the fifth line is awkward at best.

The syntactical problems get worse in such lines as

"Yet all such men fail thereby represent"

the simple lack of the "and" causes such confusion as to make getting sense from this line difficult, and frustrating.

None of these problems are anything new to sonnet writers, especially those not very familiar with the form, and oftentimes those with some familiarity.

The positives are that the writer appears to understand what constitutes a sonnet and tries his/her best to conform, and I also suspect after reading over it a few more times the intent was probably to adhere to IP, and just experienced some failures along the way. Although a sonnet is technically not a difficult challenge, the difficulty rises in the extreme when we add the qualification of sounding natural.

I can certainly understand the anger in the piece as the romantics were assailed unmercifully by the modernist for their supposed reliance on sentiment, although it was actually the poor imitators not the masters that produced copious amounts of that overly sentimental drivel that still is inflicted on us today most often in the form of the "love poem". Caught up in the new rationalism of scientific determinism they were overwhelmed in their desire for objective poetry (a more soulless form of writing has never been known) . Thus Novalis along with the rest were cast aside, often brutally, together with the old morality and mores. Kill them all, kill all the Baron Von Munchausen.
One final note, I would change "health" and wealth" to some other rhyme as "health" makes no sense at all.

Dale

[jdeirmend]

Dale,

Thanks for coming forward and offering some critique. I have only a smidgeon of undergraduate creative writing under my belt, and though two of my teachers were prize winning poets, neither did very much by way of teaching the basics of formal poetry. Coincidentally, I tend to prefer and admire the discipline of the same over much of what passes for "free verse" these days . . . insert some blah blah blah about my concurrences with Harold Bloom and the contemporary flight from all cognitive and aesthetic value.

Anyhow, I'm happy to have the opportunity to learn from someone more knowledgeable about literature than myself. I have my M.A. in philosophy in psychoanalysis, and studied phil. at USC, but always felt most at home, to be honest, in creative writing and literary theory courses. I had a plan some years ago to get a second M.A. in literature and creative writing that fell through, so I'm happy to have stumbled upon this site.

After reading the meter sticky, my understanding of your major complaint about the deficiency in meter is that I don't really make iambs. This is by virtue of the fact that the second syllable of each pair, in many cases, falls on part of a word, and not a whole one. Does that sound right, or is there something else I'm missing?

Thanks,
James

English romanticism I know, German, not so much. The form here appears to be a syllabic sonnet, as it has ten syllables per line, but no consistent meter, although in a number of lines it follows IP closely. Of course the same problems that arise in a sonnet that is written in IP, also arise here, that is flipped syntax, sometimes known as Yoda speech.

"as if the world from it a sickness flung:
a rash, wrought by how bright his star did burn."

Some lines are awkward regardless of the form one might wish to attach to them such as:

"Like smoke, their whispers clung to the arid"

this does lead into the next line that starts on a half foot, but is in IP.

"halls of Academe, where sterile thought"

Still the fifth line is awkward at best.

The syntactical problems get worse in such lines as

"Yet all such men fail thereby represent"

the simple lack of the "and" causes such confusion as to make getting sense from this line difficult, and frustrating.

None of these problems are anything new to sonnet writers, especially those not very familiar with the form, and oftentimes those with some familiarity.

The positives are that the writer appears to understand what constitutes a sonnet and tries his/her best to conform, and I also suspect after reading over it a few more times the intent was probably to adhere to IP, and just experienced some failures along the way. Although a sonnet is technically not a difficult challenge, the difficulty rises in the extreme when we add the qualification of sounding natural.

I can certainly understand the anger in the piece as the romantics were assailed unmercifully by the modernist for their supposed reliance on sentiment, although it was actually the poor imitators not the masters that produced copious amounts of that overly sentimental drivel that still is inflicted on us today most often in the form of the "love poem". Caught up in the new rationalism of scientific determinism they were overwhelmed in their desire for objective poetry (a more soulless form of writing has never been known) . Thus Novalis along with the rest were cast aside, often brutally, together with the old morality and mores. Kill them all, kill all the Baron Von Munchausen.
One final note, I would change "health" and wealth" to some other rhyme as "health" makes no sense at all.

Dale

[Erthona]

"Harold Bloom" is definitely my top guy, but then Blake was my focus.

"M.A. in philosophy in psychoanalysis" Wow, and your still alive

"After reading the meter sticky, my understanding of your major complaint about the deficiency in meter is that I don't really make iambs. This is by virtue of the fact that the second syllable of each pair, in many cases, falls on part of a word, and not a whole one. Does that sound right, or is there something else I'm missing?"

Actually you do make iambs, but only part of the poem is composed of them. The rest is in various meters or non-meters.

An iamb is composed of two syllables, the first is soft or non accented, the second hard, or accented. Example:

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

It is sort of a de-DUM sound.

Read some Elizabethan sonnets to get the feel of how iambs sound. Elizabethan sonnets are generally written in Iambic pentameter, that is five feet of iambs.

"two of my teachers were prize winning poets, neither did very much by way of teaching the basics of formal poetry."

Well their lack does not have to disable you

Dale

[milo]

"Harold Bloom" is definitely my top guy, but then Blake was my focus.

"M.A. in philosophy in psychoanalysis" Wow, and your still alive

"After reading the meter sticky, my understanding of your major complaint about the deficiency in meter is that I don't really make iambs. This is by virtue of the fact that the second syllable of each pair, in many cases, falls on part of a word, and not a whole one. Does that sound right, or is there something else I'm missing?"

Actually you do make iambs, but only part of the poem is composed of them. The rest is in various meters or non-meters.

An iamb is composed of two syllables, the first is soft or non accented, the second hard, or accented. Example:

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

It is sort of a de-DUM sound.

Read some Elizabethan sonnets to get the feel of how iambs sound. Elizabethan sonnets are generally written in Iambic pentameter, that is five feet of iambs.

"two of my teachers were prize winning poets, neither did very much by way of teaching the basics of formal poetry."

Well their lack does not have to disable you

Dale

A minor correction

Shakespeare started many of his sonnets with a trochee. In this case it is:

SHALLi comPARE theeTO aSUM mer'sDAY

[Erthona]

A minor correction:

Shall I can be read as an iamb, or as two accented syllables "SHALL I" It has been argued either way.

Dale

[milo]

"Read it as it is written"

"Read it as it was intended to be read."

Not the same at all. My sentence has three more words than does yours!

Dale

You are going to get me moderated again!

---

Novalis

Not long after his final song was sung
did friend and colleague put him down in turn
as if the world from it a sickness flung:
a rash, wrought by how bright his star did burn.

The biggest problems are those produced by torturing your words to fit the form. Phrases like "did burn" are spoken as "burned" by humans. L3 is just unparseable it has been twisted too far. "wrought by how bright his star did burn" is just awkaward and clumsy.

Like smoke, their whispers clung to the arid
halls of Academe, where sterile thought
curbed every trace of any tender bid
could move a heart to seek the things he sought.

you can't really rhyme a fem ending with an iamb (arid doesn't rhyme with bid) also, you have some acute problems with meter. L5 has only 4 feet and at least one is an anapaest. Your other line wobble in and out of meter. You also have an unwarranted tense shift here.

Yet all such men fail thereby represent
what still remains the greatest human wealth
and lay in what is labeled sentiment
with scorn, by those who’ll never know the health –

Once again, the syntax and meter are pretty twisted throughout here. I can't figure out what subject "lay" refers back to, I think you may be missing an antecedent and if not, there is definitely an indefinite antecedent.

of he, whose tears of loss fallowed the earth
from which such azure blossoms came to birth!

I made it to the end and really have no idea what the poem is supposed to be about. Azure blossoms? From where did these things spring?

I think you should consider going through and trying to restate everything using as close to regular human diction and syntax as you can muster while maintaining a discernible meter.

Thanks for posting.

[jringo_]

...and though two of my teachers were prize winning poets, neither did very much by way of teaching the basics of formal poetry.

Who were your professors? I had the opposite exposure in undergrad.

---

People of poetry:

It is important to keep an open mind. Poetry needn't be written the way humans speak. In fact, and while I respect the contemporary view of "use the language you use," I am of the school that it shouldn't; we speak the way poetry is written.

In lieu of falling into a diatribe, I present a few examples in the form of traceable before and after occurrences:

Spoken English before Chaucer.
The writing of Chaucer.
Spoken English after Chaucer.

Spoken English before Shakespeare.
The writing of Shakespeare.
Spoken English after Shakespeare.

Spoken English before Modernism.
The writing of modernism.
Spoken English after Modernism.


As such, I wonder if we should argue not the trivial presentation of syntax, but rather the poetic effect of the chosen syntax. Is English presented in a new light? Is the subject matter redefined? Does the way the words are presented speak? does it force you the reader to speak?

Please, debate this matter.

EDIT: Welp. This was meant for a different forum, but hey, I'll keep it here anyway as I'm curious as to what you guys think on the subject. So yeah, this is not directed toward anyone here, but what say you to the way contemporary poetry is approached and written vs the way I describe my preference?

[jdeirmend]

...and though two of my teachers were prize winning poets, neither did very much by way of teaching the basics of formal poetry.

Who were your professors? I had the opposite exposure in undergrad.

---

People of poetry:

It is important to keep an open mind. Poetry needn't be written the way humans speak. In fact, and while I respect the contemporary view of "use the language you use," I am of the school that it shouldn't; we speak the way poetry is written.

In lieu of falling into a diatribe, I present a few examples in the form of traceable before and after occurrences:

Spoken English before Chaucer.
The writing of Chaucer.
Spoken English after Chaucer.

Spoken English before Shakespeare.
The writing of Shakespeare.
Spoken English after Shakespeare.

Spoken English before Modernism.
The writing of modernism.
Spoken English after Modernism.


As such, I wonder if we should argue not the trivial presentation of syntax, but rather the poetic effect of the chosen syntax. Is English presented in a new light? Is the subject matter redefined? Does the way the words are presented speak? does it force you the reader to speak?

Please, debate this matter.

EDIT: Welp. This was meant for a different forum, but hey, I'll keep it here anyway as I'm curious as to what you guys think on the subject. So yeah, this is not directed toward anyone here, but what say you to the way contemporary poetry is approached and written vs the way I describe my preference?

I had a number of teachers. The most influential of them for me, perhaps, recently won the Agha Shahid Ali prize.

But to echo your sentiments: I too was a little dismayed at what little work my readership thus far seemed willing to put into finding the sense in my first draft. I guess the original was a good tribute to Novalis, in that vein, as the original German of the Hymns has notoriously tortured syntax.

[Leanne]

Off-topic posts have been removed. Please do not use poetry threads to carry out discussions -- we have a whole forum for that/ admin

[billy]

i have no education, and look on all poets as being in a similar situation. for me their poetry speak like credentials seldom do.
to the poem. it's a good effort the edit being better than the original. i have no idea of novalis and the footnote didn't help that much. i feel a person needs more knowledge of such things that that which a few line bring, (i may look novalis up Later :J i did get more a sense of the person from the poem than i did from the footnote.
normally i never comment on others comments but it has a bearing on the writing of the original;

I wonder if we should argue not the trivial presentation of syntax
i agree, lets all forget about gibberish and concentrate on a poems prettiness. yoda speak and bad syntax destroys the beauty of a poem, it takes it by the balls and screams down it's throat, "this is shite" and don't let anyone say different less they look like idiots.
thankfully you did a lot of work on the yoda speak and it seriously helps the poem.
now to the poem:

in a lot of places it feels forced and wordy in order to fit the meter. the two last lines being examples of this fact. the 1st line reads a little like a quote, final song played out are the strong words, add the image and it becomes a solid opening line. things like, not long after, put him down,as if his, left them no room to doubt,fit for one to yearn, and others
weaken the poem a lot

the meter i'm not sure about and will leave it to others better than i.

all in all i think it's a good solid effort, a few more edits to give it some good images would make the words you already have better.

first revision

Not long after his final song played out
his friends and colleagues put him down in turn
as if his Hymns left them no room to doubt,
that Night was nothing fit for one to yearn.
Like smoke, their whispers clung to mortared walls i like this simile, it's a solid image that the first real image of the poem (i excluded put him down because it verges on cliche)
within the White Tow’r’s pristine corridors somehow white isn't reinforcing pristine, perhaps a word describing the structure or something other than colour instead of white? tow'r's while clever is a bit of a cheat, sometimes they work, for me this one doesn't because of the possessive (')
where desiccated spirits roam the halls, did you mean like coconut or desecrated which feels out of place
and boast of freedom from the heart’s ardors. feels forced
Yet though Sophia’s absence caused him grief [caused] feels mundane,yet and thougfh are more or less saying the same thing, yet yet though though
still unlike them, he refused to resign: still unlike them, is baggage. create an image instead of telling [in stocks of steel] (a bad suggestion i know but it's something of an image)
for every poem was penned in true belief,
with no protest towards fate and its design.
Instead, he let his tears fallow the earth,
from which such azure blossoms came to birth!

[milo]

I had a number of teachers. The most influential of them for me, perhaps, recently won the Agha Shahid Ali prize.

But to echo your sentiments: I too was a little dismayed at what little work my readership thus far seemed willing to put into finding the sense in my first draft. I guess the original was a good tribute to Novalis, in that vein, as the original German of the Hymns has notoriously tortured syntax.

Either you can decide your writing is "pearls before swine" and write off your readers or you can actually fix the very obvious and numerous problems in the poem to make it enjoyable for readers. The choice is yours.

Oh, BTW, writing with poor grammar and tortured syntax isn't a new poetic movement, every would be poet has written that way, some develop beyond it.

[jdeirmend]

I had a number of teachers. The most influential of them for me, perhaps, recently won the Agha Shahid Ali prize.

But to echo your sentiments: I too was a little dismayed at what little work my readership thus far seemed willing to put into finding the sense in my first draft. I guess the original was a good tribute to Novalis, in that vein, as the original German of the Hymns has notoriously tortured syntax.

Either you can decide your writing is "pearls before swine" and write off your readers or you can actually fix the very obvious and numerous problems in the poem to make it enjoyable for readers. The choice is yours.

Oh, BTW, writing with poor grammar and tortured syntax isn't a new poetic movement, every would be poet has written that way, some develop beyond it.

Milo, I'm working on it. If you look at the first revision, you will see that I took a number of your suggestions into account. Anyhow, if you could abstain from taking such a browbeating tone with me, it would be much appreciated.

[billy]

if you don't like certain feedback put the poster on your blocked list/mod

what some see as browbeating i see as good advice, and actively search for such

lets keep it about the poem and the the poet or poster please.

[jdeirmend]

Thanks for the involved and supportive critique, Billy. I just posted the second revision. I tried to take your critique into account, which helped me realize that the scope of what I want to convey could merit a sequence of sonnets. I also got back to reading Hymns to the Night, the mini-epic by Novalis that inspired me in the first place, which proved useful.

What I'm trying to focus on with this poem is as much a peculiarity to Novalis - i.e., he wrote the work for which he's best known, and took his pen name, shortly after his fiance died - as it is part and parcel of the poetic/artistic process. There is some sense in which loss, lack, privation and absence defines our activity as writers. I am hoping that an attentive reader can glean that idea from what I've written thus far, whether they know anything about Novalis or not.

[Leanne]

second revision

I.

Not long after his final song played out
his friends and colleagues put him down in turn:
as if his Hymns left them no room to doubt,
that Night was nothing fit for one to yearn.
Like frost, their whispers clung to mortared walls
of Academe, where icy forms congealed
in Reason’s shape, throughout each of the halls
stifling such warmth his Heart never concealed. -- this line is off-meter to my reading in a few places -- my immediate suggestion is "and stifled warmth his Heart had not concealed".
Yet though Sophia’s absence stirred his grief,
the hollow left behind made space to grow:
with wisdom’s pretense shed for true belief,
that often, men must feel what they can’t know.
And so his fertile tears fallowed the earth, -- interesting inversion of the usual order of things -- I like the use of "fallowed" as a verb
from which such azure blossoms came to birth! -- personally I'd take out the exclamation point, which seems a bit overwrought -- although it is a tribute to a fairly emotional chap, so it's obviously your call. "such" might need a bit of rethinking though -- perhaps "bright"?

II.

I struggle to envision him beside
her grave: a scene that seems from out of time! -- again, exclamation point seems a step too far
And ask those who fancy themselves allied, -- off-meter -- perhaps "and ask of those who think themselves allied"?
with Logos, if they could do more than mime – -- why the dash?
his words, which cast for us a silhouette,
whose backlight penetrates the wasteland through, -- "through" is already implied by "penetrate" and it's clearly here just for the rhyme -- personally I'd rethink this line for that reason
and offers all who’d listen a vignette:
the glowing glimpse of an epoch more true. -- I'm not keen on "an" as the stressed syllable here
Amid the sparks of all such remembrance, -- "remembrance" becomes quite forced because of its placement in the line
that glimm’ring day of mourning comes to me:
as did his poet’s eye permit entrance, -- and rhyming "entrance" with "remembrance" is just off -- it's a sight-rhyme at best, and really out of place with the rest of your quite perfect rhymes. These lines may need revising.
to Night, that shrouded her in mystery.
In Death, his devotion took him above, -- "devotion" falls off-meter unless it's forced, and that's not fun -- perhaps "devotion, in his death, took him above"
as wind to feather, so fierce was his love.

Hi James,

I've never been a fan of the German romantics, since I've always found them a bit overwrought (perhaps not surprisingly, it's the same reason I dislike most of the American confessional poets) -- however, I am a fan of a good tribute, and I do think this has the makings of such. I enjoy the fact that you have not emulated Novartis' style but have blended certain elements with your own to make an entirely new poem.

I fear that as something of a sonnet connoisseur I cannot help but find fault with the execution. I feel confident that attention to technique will enhance this piece greatly.

[jdeirmend]

Thank you for the feedback, Leanne! I will try to give it due attention. I feel like I've gained some good momentum as far as painting the scene goes, so thanks to all of you who have pushed me in a positive direction.