hide Sorting

You can sort these results in two ways:

By entity
Chronological order for dates, alphabetical order for places and people.
By position (current method)
As the entities appear in the document.

You are currently sorting in ascending order. Sort in descending order.

hide Most Frequent Entities

The entities that appear most frequently in this document are shown below.

Entity Max. Freq Min. Freq
R. W. Emerson 80 0 Browse Search
J. W. Goethe 46 0 Browse Search
Alfred Tennyson 44 0 Browse Search
J. R. Lowell 42 0 Browse Search
H. W. Longfellow 42 0 Browse Search
W. D. Howells 40 0 Browse Search
Matthew Arnold 38 0 Browse Search
Americans 38 0 Browse Search
Chapmanizes Homer 30 0 Browse Search
Europe 28 0 Browse Search
View all entities in this document...

Browsing named entities in a specific section of Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book. Search the whole document.

Found 72 total hits in 31 results.

1 2 3 4
Staten Island (New York, United States) (search for this): chapter 18
s admirable papers on Aeschylus in the Atlantic Monthly August, 1888. that the Homeric poems offer us, as it were, a glimpse of a landscape scene by a flash of lightning. What came before and immediately after we cannot discern. But in Bryant's translation there is substituted for the flash of lightning the very mildest moonlight; and there seems no particular reason, from anything in the tone or flavor of his narrative, why the whole series of events should not have taken place on Staten Island. Mr. Bryant undoubtedly had, in his youth, something of Longfellow's gift for translation; his early Spanish ballads had in them much promise; they were as good as Lockhart's, perhaps better. But his Iliad and Odyssey were an old man's work, done with mechanical regularity, so many lines a day; and while they are grave and dignified, as his critic says, they are Homer with the fire of Homer—or, in other words, with Homer himself—left out. But the real translator of the Father of Poetry
Frankfort (Kentucky, United States) (search for this): chapter 18
achieving at least half the interval, whatever that may be, which separates prose from poetry. Mr. Boyesen's third great American translator is Bayard Taylor. Here again he seems to me to concede too much to labor and not enough to genius. As a tour de force, Taylor's great work is doubtless monumental, and an honor to American scholarship. I remember with what regret I noticed that there was no copy of it, ten years ago, in the collection of Goethean literature in the Gothe-Haus at Frankfort, though Taylor's honorary diploma was there, and the custodian spoke of him with respect. As a translator of the whole work, and as a copious commentator and elucidator he is entitled to great credit, although his abundant notes are taken largely from German sources, easily accessible. No Englishman, at any rate, has done the same work so well. But it is to be remembered that although the translation of the Second Part of Faust, in the original metres, taxes severely the ingenuity and a
Andrew Lang (search for this): chapter 18
s, the nearest approach that can be had in English to the actual rhythm of Homer. Professor Palmer will now have to solve the further and more difficult problem, whether the stronger and richer measure of the Iliad can be dealt with in the same way. But the work already done is one of the monumental works of American scholarship; and although it stands to the eye as a prose version, and might at first be hastily classed with a translation so incomparably inferior to it as that of Butcher and Lang, yet it is really as literal as that, while achieving at least half the interval, whatever that may be, which separates prose from poetry. Mr. Boyesen's third great American translator is Bayard Taylor. Here again he seems to me to concede too much to labor and not enough to genius. As a tour de force, Taylor's great work is doubtless monumental, and an honor to American scholarship. I remember with what regret I noticed that there was no copy of it, ten years ago, in the collection of
Beatrice (search for this): chapter 18
by Longfellow in his Hyperion, beginning Many a year is in its grave, has infused into it a tinge of dreamy sentiment slightly beyond that conveyed by Uhland in the original. It is perhaps more beautiful, as it stands, than any of Longfellow's ballad-versions; but it is less perfect as a rendering. It is possible that Longfellow's own method swerved a little, in his later years, toward over-literalness. There are many who prefer the freer and more graceful movement of his Vision of Beatrice in the Ballads and other Poems to the stricter measure of the same passage in his completed translation. This last work has truly, as Mr. Boyesen says, an air of constraint; but I think he is in error in attributing this quality to the influence of those who met to criticise Longfellow's work; it was rather due to the strong hold taken, by the theory of a literal rendering, on the poet's mind. Overliteral-ness appears to be the Nemesis of a genius for translating; the longer a man works,
Bayard Taylor (search for this): chapter 18
nterval, whatever that may be, which separates prose from poetry. Mr. Boyesen's third great American translator is Bayard Taylor. Here again he seems to me to concede too much to labor and not enough to genius. As a tour de force, Taylor's greTaylor's great work is doubtless monumental, and an honor to American scholarship. I remember with what regret I noticed that there was no copy of it, ten years ago, in the collection of Goethean literature in the Gothe-Haus at Frankfort, though Taylor's honoraTaylor's honorary diploma was there, and the custodian spoke of him with respect. As a translator of the whole work, and as a copious commentator and elucidator he is entitled to great credit, although his abundant notes are taken largely from German sources, easiny workman, yet it is in dealing with the oft-translated First Part that the higher poetic qualities come in; and in this Taylor has been easily surpassed, I should say, by the late Charles T. Brooks. And while Brooks, it is true, stopped short of t
Chapman (search for this): chapter 18
tic translation can be good and literal at the same time, is refuted by the very existence of Longfellow, whose instinct for the transference of his author's language seemed like a sixth sense or a special gift for that one purpose. Placing side by side his German ballads and their originals, one neither detects anything of Longfellow put in nor anything of Uhland or Heine left out. The more powerful and commanding class of translators insert themselves into the work of their authors; thus Chapman so Chapmanizes Homer that in the long run his version fails to give pleasure; and Fiztgerald has whole lines in his Agamemnon which are not in Aeschylus and are almost indistinguishable in flavor from his Omar Khayyam. Even Mrs. Austin, in that exquisite version quoted by Longfellow in his Hyperion, beginning Many a year is in its grave, has infused into it a tinge of dreamy sentiment slightly beyond that conveyed by Uhland in the original. It is perhaps more beautiful, as it stand
Henry Austin (search for this): chapter 18
XVII American translators the English-speaking race has a strong instinct for translation, extending through both its branches. Miss Mitford says of one of her heroes in a country town, He translated Horace, as all gentlemen do; and Mrs. Austin speaks of Goethe's Faust as that untranslatable poem which every Englishman translates. Americans are not behind their British cousins in these labors; and Professor Boyesen —who, as a Norseman by birth and an American by adoption, is free of alors; thus Chapman so Chapmanizes Homer that in the long run his version fails to give pleasure; and Fiztgerald has whole lines in his Agamemnon which are not in Aeschylus and are almost indistinguishable in flavor from his Omar Khayyam. Even Mrs. Austin, in that exquisite version quoted by Longfellow in his Hyperion, beginning Many a year is in its grave, has infused into it a tinge of dreamy sentiment slightly beyond that conveyed by Uhland in the original. It is perhaps more beautifu
Aeschylus (search for this): chapter 18
l and commanding class of translators insert themselves into the work of their authors; thus Chapman so Chapmanizes Homer that in the long run his version fails to give pleasure; and Fiztgerald has whole lines in his Agamemnon which are not in Aeschylus and are almost indistinguishable in flavor from his Omar Khayyam. Even Mrs. Austin, in that exquisite version quoted by Longfellow in his Hyperion, beginning Many a year is in its grave, has infused into it a tinge of dreamy sentiment sliging it, can look through a page of Bryant's version without a sense of its utter tameness and its want of almost all the qualities defined by Arnold as essential to Homer. Mr. Lawton has finely said, at the beginning of his admirable papers on Aeschylus in the Atlantic Monthly August, 1888. that the Homeric poems offer us, as it were, a glimpse of a landscape scene by a flash of lightning. What came before and immediately after we cannot discern. But in Bryant's translation there is subs
Lockhart (search for this): chapter 18
What came before and immediately after we cannot discern. But in Bryant's translation there is substituted for the flash of lightning the very mildest moonlight; and there seems no particular reason, from anything in the tone or flavor of his narrative, why the whole series of events should not have taken place on Staten Island. Mr. Bryant undoubtedly had, in his youth, something of Longfellow's gift for translation; his early Spanish ballads had in them much promise; they were as good as Lockhart's, perhaps better. But his Iliad and Odyssey were an old man's work, done with mechanical regularity, so many lines a day; and while they are grave and dignified, as his critic says, they are Homer with the fire of Homer—or, in other words, with Homer himself—left out. But the real translator of the Father of Poetry is, in my judgment, one whom Mr. Boyesen does not name, and perhaps does not yet know, so recently has the first instalment of his great work appeared—Prof. G. H. Palmer. For <
G. H. Palmer (search for this): chapter 18
other words, with Homer himself—left out. But the real translator of the Father of Poetry is, in my judgment, one whom Mr. Boyesen does not name, and perhaps does not yet know, so recently has the first instalment of his great work appeared—Prof. G. H. Palmer. For the last half-dozen years it has been the greatest intellectual pleasure afforded by a residence near Harvard University to follow with the Greek text the public readings of Professor Palmer from the Odyssey. These readings were giv telegraph. This English text is published; it is cast, with consummate art, in a sort of rhythmic prose, perfectly simple, yet measured, and securing, perhaps, the nearest approach that can be had in English to the actual rhythm of Homer. Professor Palmer will now have to solve the further and more difficult problem, whether the stronger and richer measure of the Iliad can be dealt with in the same way. But the work already done is one of the monumental works of American scholarship; and alth
1 2 3 4