3685. John Ruskin to RB
As published in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 22, 12–17.
Denmark Hill
2nd December 1855
Dear Mr Browning
I know you have been wondering that I did not write, but I could not till now—and hardly can, now: not because I am busy—nor careless, but because I cannot at all make up my mind about these poems of yours; [1] and so far as my mind is made up—I am not sure whether it is in the least right. Of their power there can of course be no question—nor do you need to be told of it; for everyone who has power of this kind, knows it—must know it. But as to the Presentation of the Power, I am in great doubt. Being hard worked at present, & not being able to give the Cream of the day to poetry—when I take up these poems in the evening I find them absolutely and literally a set of the most amazing Conundrums that ever were proposed to me– I try at them for—say twenty minutes—in which time I make out about twenty lines; but not consecutive lines, always having to miss two, for every one that I make out. I enjoy the twenty, each separately, very much, but the puzzlement about the intermediate ones increases in comfortlessness till I get a headache, & give in.
Now that you may exactly understand the way I feel about them—I will read, with you, one poem—as I read it to myself—with all my comments and questions. I open at Random—Cleon?—no—that’s not a fair example being harder than most. The twins?.. no—I have made out that—(except the fifth stanza) [2] —so it is not a fair example on the other side being easier than most– Popularity? [3] —Yes, that touches the matter in hand.
Stand still, true poet that you are
I know you;—let me try and draw you: [4]
(Does this mean, literally—stand still? or where was the poet figuratively going—and why couldn’t he be drawn as he went?) Some night you’ll fail us? (Why some night—rather than some day? —“Fail us”. How? Die?) When afar you Rise—(Where?—How?) remember &c– [5] (very good—I understand). My star God’s Glowworm. (Very fine. I understand and like that.) “Why ˄ extend that loving hand.” [6] (Grammatically, this applies to the Poet, the ellipsis of “Should He”—<at ˄> [7] throws me quite out—like a step in a floor which one doesn’t expect[)].
Yet locks you safe– [8] How does God’s hand lock him; do you mean—keeps him from being seen?—and how does it make him Safe. Why is a poet safer or more locked up than anybody else? I go on—in hope. “His clenched hand––beauty” [9] —very good—but I don’t understand why the Hand should have held close so long—which is just the point I wanted to be explained– Why the poet had to be locked up.
“My poet holds the future fast.” [10]
How? Do you mean he anticipates it in his mind—trusts in it– I don’t know if you mean that, because I dont know if poets do that, if you mean’t that—I wish you had said so plainly.
That day the earth[’]s feastmaster’s brow. [11] Who is the earth[’]s F.? An Angel?—or Everybody?
The chalice raising. [12] This, grammatically, agrees with “brow,” and makes me uncomfortable[.] Others, [13] &c, very pretty I like that.
“Meantime I’ll draw you.” [14] Do you mean—his Cork?—we have not had anything about painting for ever so long––very well– Do draw him then: I should like to have him drawn very much.
I’ll say—“a fisher—&c.[”] [15]
Now—where are you going to? —This is, I believe pure malice against me, for having said that painters should always grind their own colours. [16]
Who has not heard––merchant sells– [17] Do you mean—the silk that the merchant sells Raw—or what do you want with the merchant at all.
“And each bystander”. [18] Who are these bystanders– I did’nt hear of any before– Are they people who have gone to see the fishing?
“Could criticise, & quote tradition.” [19]
Criticise what? the fishing?—and why should they—what was wrong in it?– Quote tradition. Do you mean about purple? But if they made purple at the time, it was’nt tradition surely—but experience– You might as well tell me you heard the colourmen in Long-Acre, [20] quote tradition touching their next cargo of Indigo, & cochineal[.] “Depths—sublimed.” [21] I don’t know what you mean by “sublimed.” Made sublime?—if so—it is not English. To sublime means to evaporate dryly, I believe and has participle “Sublimated”.
“Worth scepter, crown and ball”– [22] Indeed. Was there ever such a fool of a King?– You ought to have put a note saying who. “Yet there’s” [23] —&c– Well, I understand that, & it’s very pretty[.]
Enough to furnish Solomon, &c. [24]
I don’t think Solomon[’]s spouse swore, [25] —at least not about blue-bells. I understand this bit, but fear most people won’t[.] How many have noticed a blue-bell[’]s stamen? [26] “Bee to her groom” [27] I don’t understand. I thought there was only one Queen-bee and she never was out o’ nights—nor came home drunk or disorderly. Besides if she does—unless you had told me what o’clock in the morning she comes home at, the simile is of no use to me. “Mere conchs—art”– [28] Well—but what has this to do with the Poet. Who “pounds” [29] him?– I don’t understand– World stand[s] aloof? [30] yes—from the purple manufactory, but from Pounding of Poets?—does it?—and if so—who distils—or fines, & bottles them. “Flasked & fine” [31] Now is that what you call painting a poet. Under the whole & sole image of a bottle of Blue, with a bladder over the cork? The Arabian fisherman with his genie [32] was nothing to this[.]
Hobbs—Nobbs—&c. paint the future. [33]
Why the future? Do you mean in the future.
Blue into their line? [34] I don’t understand;—do you mean Quote the Poet, or write articles upon him—or in his style?– And if so—was this what God kept him safe for? [35] to feed Nobbs with Turtle. [36] —Is this what you call Accepting the future ages duty.– I don’t understand. “What Porridge”? [37] Porridge is a Scotch dish, I believe; typical of bad fare– Do you mean that Keats had bad fare?– But if he had—how was he kept safe to the world[’]s end?– I don’t understand at all!!!!!!!
Now, that is the way I read—as well as I can—poem after poem—picking up a little bit here & there & enjoying it—but wholly unable to put anything together. I can’t say I have really made out any one yet, except the epistle from the Arabian physician, [38] which I like immensely, and I am only a stanza or so out with one or two others—in by the fireside for instance I am only dead beat by the 41–43, [39] and in fra Lippo—I am only fast at the grated orris root, [40] which I looked for in the Encyclopaedia and could’nt find; and at the
There’s for you—give me six months– [41]
—because I don’t know What’s for you–
_________
Well—how far all this is as it should be—I really know not. There is a stuff & fancy in your work which assuredly is in no other living writer’s, and how far this purple of it must be within this terrible shell; and only to be fished for among threshing of foam & slippery rocks, I don’t know. There are truths & depths in it, far beyond anything I have read except Shakespeare—and truly, if you had just written Hamlet, I believe I should have written to you, precisely this kind of letter—merely quoting your own Rosencrantz against you– “I understand you not—my Lord.” [42] I cannot write in enthusiastic praise—because I look at you every day as a monkey does at a cocoanut—having great faith in the milk—hearing it rattle indeed—inside—but quite beside myself for the Fibres. Still less can I write in blame– When a man has real power, God only knows how he can bring it out, or ought to bring it out. But—I would pray you—faith, heartily [43] —to consider with yourself—how far you can amend matters—& make the real virtue of your work acceptable & profitable to more people.
For one thing, I entirely deny & refuse the right of any poet to require me to pronounce words short and long, [44] exactly as he likes,—to require me to read a plain & harsh & straight-forward piece of prose. “Till I felt when the foldskirts (fly, redundant) open. Then, once more [45] —I prayed; [46] as a dactylic verse, with Skirts! for a short syllable Foldskĭrts flӯ [47] —“as tremendous a long monosyllable as any in the language” and to say—“Wunce-mur-y”—prayed—instead of “once more I.” [48] And in the Second place—I entirely deny that a poet of your real dramatic power ought to let himself come up, as you constantly do—through all manner of characters—so that every now and then poor Pippa herself shall speak a long piece of Robert Browning[.] And in the third place, your Ellipses are quite Unconscionable: before one can get through ten lines, one has to patch you up in twenty places—wrong or right—and if one has’nt much stuff of one’s own to spare to patch with! You are worse than the worst Alpine Glacier I ever crossed. Bright—& deep enough truly—but so full of Clefts that half the journey has to be done with ladder & hatchet.
However—I have found some great things in you already, and I think you must be a wonderful mine, when I have real time & strength to set to work properly. That bit about the Bishop & St Praxed[’]s [49] —in the older poems—is very glorious– Rossetti showed it me– In fact—I ought’nt to write to you yet—at all—but such is my state of mind at present and it may perhaps be well that you should know it—even though it may soon change to a more acceptant one—because it most certainly represents the feelings of a good many more—besides myself—who ought to admire you & learn from you—but can’t because you are so difficult.
Well—there’s a specimen for you of my art of saying pleasant things to my friends–
I have no time left now—for any unpleasant ones—so I must just say goodbye and beg you to accept—with my dear Mrs Browning—the assurance of my exceeding regard & respect
Ever most faithfully yours,
J Ruskin
Publication: DeLaura, pp. 324–327.
Manuscript: Berg Collection.
1. Men and Women. Ruskin was on RB’s list of friends and relatives who were to be sent copies (see letter 3673).
2. “The Twins” (1855), lines 17–20:
While Date was in good case
Dabitur flourished too:
For Dabitur’s lenten face,
No wonder if Date rue.
3. These three poems were published in this order in volume two of Men and Women.
4. The first two lines of “Popularity” (1855).
5. “Popularity,” lines 3–4.
6. “Popularity,” lines 6–7.
7. Ruskin has interpolated the word and caret above the line. He is indicating that the phrase “Why extend / That loving hand” requires an insertion by the reader of the words “Should He” between “Why” and “extend.”
8. “Popularity,” line 8.
9. Cf. “Popularity,” lines 11–12.
10. “Popularity,” line 13.
11. “Popularity,” line 16. Lines 16–20 allude to the story of the wedding at Cana, in which “the governor of the feast” discovers that Jesus has changed water into wine (John 2:9–10).
12. “Popularity,” line 17.
13. Cf. “Popularity,” line 18.
14. “Popularity,” line 21.
15. “Popularity,” line 23.
16. In The Stones of Venice (1851–53), II, 169.
17. Cf. “Popularity,” lines 26–30.
18. “Popularity,” line 31.
19. “Popularity,” line 32.
20. Long Acre is a London street running east from Leicester Square near Covent Garden. In The Life of Josiah Wedgwood (2 vols., 1865–66), Eliza Meteyard writes: “in Long Acre were congregated the colour makers, gold beaters, artists’ tool makers, modellers, and journeymen of every kind” (II, 93).
21. Cf. “Popularity,” line 33.
22. “Popularity,” line 35.
23. “Popularity,” line 36. But Ruskin refers to the entire eighth stanza, lines 36–40.
24. “Popularity,” line 41. Ruskin goes on to discuss images in the ninth and tenth stanzas (lines 41–50).
25. Cf. “Popularity,” lines 44–45.
26. Cf. “Popularity,” line 47.
27. Cf. “Popularity,” line 49.
28. Cf. “Popularity,” lines 51–52.
29. Cf. “Popularity,” line 52.
30. “Popularity,” line 55.
31. “Popularity,” line 56.
32. Ruskin refers to the “Story of the Fisherman” in The Arabian Nights.
33. Cf. “Popularity,” lines 58–59.
34. “Popularity,” line 60.
35. Here and below, “safe” refers back to lines 8 and 9.
36. Cf. “Popularity,” line 61.
37. “Popularity,” line 65.
38. “An Epistle Containing the Strange Medical Experience of Karshish, the Arab Physician” (1855).
39. Lines 41–43 in “By the Fire-Side” (1855) read: “Does it feed the little lake below? / That speck of white just on its marge / Is Pella; see, in the evening glow.”
40. “Fra Lippo Lippi” (1855), line 351.
41. Cf. “Fra Lippo Lippi,” line 345.
42. Cf. Hamlet, IV, 2, 22.
43. Hamlet, I, 5, 135.
44. Like many nineteenth-century critics, Ruskin uses the vocabulary of quantitative prosody, which divided syllables according to the amount of time they took to pronounce, in place of the (more accurate) accentual language of stressed and unstressed syllables.
45. Ruskin has overscored both words to indicate stress.
46. Cf. “Saul” (1855), line 20.
47. As Ruskin’s subsequent attempt at a phonetic rendering of the required pronunciation makes clear, he is talking here about an accentual dactyl, which consists of one stressed syllable followed by two unstressed ones.
48. “Saul,” line 20.
49. “The Bishop Orders His Tomb at St. Praxed’s Church” (1849), first published as “The Tomb at St. Praxed’s” in 1845. Ruskin praises the poem in Modern Painters, Vol. IV (see letter 3721, note 5).
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