Excerpt
from the unpublished dedication to Don Juan |
|
I | |
Bob Southey! You’re a poet — Poet-laureate, | |
And representative of all the race, | |
Although ’t is true that you turn’d out a Tory at | |
Last, — yours has lately been a common case; | |
And now, my Epic Renegade! what are ye at? | 5 |
With all the Lakers, in and out of place? | |
A nest of tuneful persons, to my eye | |
Like “four and twenty Blackbirds in a pye; | |
II | |
“Which pye being open’d they began to sing” | |
(This old song and new simile holds good), | 10 |
“A dainty dish to set before the King,” | |
Or Regent, who admires such kind of food; — | |
And Coleridge, too, has lately taken wing, | |
But like a hawk encumber’d with his hood, — | |
Explaining metaphysics to the nation — | 15 |
I wish he would explain his Explanation. | |
III |
|
You, Bob! are rather insolent, you know, | |
At being disappointed in your wish | |
To supersede all warblers here below, | |
And be the only Blackbird in the dish; | 20 |
And then you overstrain yourself, or so, | |
And tumble downward like the flying fish | |
Gasping on deck, because you soar too high, Bob, | |
And fall, for lack of moisture, quite a-dry, Bob! | |
IV | |
And Wordsworth, in a rather long Excursion | 25 |
(I think the quarto holds five hundred pages), | |
Has given a sample from the vasty version | |
Of his new system to perplex the sages; | |
’T is poetry — at least by his assertion, | |
And may appear so when the dog-star rages — | 30 |
And he who understands it would be able | |
To add a story to the Tower of Babel. | |
V | |
You — Gentlemen! by dint of long seclusion | |
From better company, have kept your own | |
At Keswick, and, through still continued fusion | 35 |
Of one another’s minds, at last have grown | |
To deem as a most logical conclusion, | |
That Poesy has wreaths for you alone: | |
There is a narrowness in such a notion, | |
Which makes me wish you’d change your lakes for ocean. | 40 |
Byron
wrote this dedication in 1818 but did not include it in the published
version of the poem that appeared the next year. One reason may
be that it can certainly be considered slanderous, but Byron gives a more
revealing reason in a note to his publisher: “As the poem
is to be published anonymously omit the dedication — I
won’t attack the dog in the dark — such things are for Scoundrels
and renegadoes like himself —” |
|
Bob Southey — Robert Southey (1774-1843) was another of the so-called Lake poets, like Wordsworth and Coleridge, named for the Lake District in northwestern England (north of Wales, south of Scotland, across the sea from Ireland) where they lived. Early in his life he adhered to radical (or Republican) political ideals. In 1792, he was expelled from Westminster school for writing an essay in the school magazine denouncing flogging. He and Coleridge made plans to emigrate to America and set up a commune, but resistance from the (probably wise) women in their lives made them re-think this plan. Instead, they stayed in England and attempted to promote their radical politics. Southey wrote plays (The Fall of Robespierre, written with Coleridge, and Wat Tyler, written on his own) and poems, but did not make much money and depended on an allowance from a wealthy friend to support him. Gradually he lost his radical political leanings, growing increasingly conservative to the point where the Tory government rewarded him with an allowance. In 1813 he was made Poet Laureate — a politically motivated appointment, to be sure. Ironically, in 1817 appeared Southey’s Wat Tyler, an epic poem he had written in 1794 about the man who led 100,000 peasants in a rebellion against unjust taxation in 1381 (and was stabbed during a supposed truce and beheaded for his trouble). Southey tried to have it suppressed — its political views were embarrassing for a man in his position and led to charges of hypocrisy from many sources — but it sold more than 60,000 copies, which was more than any other Southey poem. This likely led him to include it when he published his collected works two decades later. Southey had some talent as a poet, but hardly anyone today would view him as the equal of Wordsworth, Coleridge, Byron, Scott, or a few other contemporaries. His most famous literary work today is a prose story called “The Story of the Three Bears,” or what became “Goldilocks,” though in Southey’s version the visitor to the bears’ house is an old woman, not a young girl. Byron loathed Southey and spends this dedication calling him everything from a toady to a traitor. |
|
Poet-Laureate
— a politically appointed position, sort of “the national
poet.” The position is mostly honorary, but the Poet-Laureate
is sometimes expected to write verses for official and ceremonious occasions.
In England, the position is for life; in the United States, the position
is for two years but can be renewed. |
|
Tory
— Tories were one of the two main political parties in England at
this time. Traditionally, the Tories had favored the Monarchy and
their opponents the Whigs had favored Parliament, but by this time the
Monarchy had lost most of its power; the Tories were generally conservative
(opposing greater enfranchisement and social reforms, favoring the hereditary
nobility, advocating a militarily aggressive posture in most cases) and
the Whigs liberal (favoring the merchant class and generally taking opposing
positions to the Tories). |
|
Epic
Renegade
— Southey was known for writing epic poems such as Joan of Arc:
An Epic Poem and Madoc, which is based on a Welsh legend
and was published in two volumes. As noted above, his early political
leanings were radical, perhaps to the point one might call him a renegade.
On the other hand, by turning away from his earlier radical beliefs, he
may also be considered to have become a renegade from the radical republican
causes (note that renegade has the same root as to renege,
which means to repudiate an earlier promise). As always, when one can read
a pun or double-meaning in Byron’s works, one probably should. |
|
Lakers — the Lake poets, not a basketball team | |
Regent — King George III developed an illness that caused mental instability or madness; his son (later George IV) was named Regent to rule in his place. | |
has lately taken wing — Coleridge (the one Lake poet with whom Byron was somewhat friendly) had published his major critical work, Biographia Literaria, in 1817. Byron read it, and may even be making reference to a passage in which Coleridge described himself as feeling like “a liberated bird.” | |
dog-star — Sirius, the dog-star, is highest in the sky in late summer (which is where we get the phrase the dog-days of summer), when the heat makes people somewhat irritable. This is also the time of year the Roman poets had delivered their public readings. | |
Keswick — town in the Lake District where Southey lived. | |
change your lakes for ocean — another pun. On one hand, Byron is playing on the idea of the “narrowness” of the Lake poets’ minds and wishing they would expand their views, but more literally he is saying he wishes they would all go away (overseas to America, perhaps). |