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W. L. Garrison (search for this): chapter 18
ter, but the light use of a trivial phrase is not to be set against her distinct disclaimer, as just quoted. She was indeed too omnivorous a reader, too ardent and fertile a thinker, to go through the successive bondages by which many fine minds — especially the minds of women — work their way to freedom. Miss Martineau, for instance, with all her native vigor, was always following with implicit confidence some particular guide or model; in early life her brother James, then Malthus, then Garrison, then Comte, then even Atkinson; but in Margaret Fuller's case, though there were many friendships, there was no personal and controlling ruler. Emerson came the nearest to this, and yet we see by her letters how frankly she could criticise even him. Her danger lay in the direction of originality, not of imitation ; of too much divergence, not too much concentration. Coming in contact, as she did, with some of the strongest men of her time; first the Boston Transcendentalists; then Horace
Josh Billings (search for this): chapter 18
sentence. If few of her sentences have passed into the common repertory of quotation, that is not a final test. The greatest poet is not necessarily the most quoted or quotable poet. Pope fills twenty-four pages in Bartlett's Dictionary of Quotations, Moore eight, Burns but six, Keats but two, and the Brownings taken together less than half a page. The test of an author is not to be found merely in the number of his phrases that pass current in the corners of newspapers — else would Josh Billings be at the head of literature ;but in the number of passages that have really taken root in younger minds. Tried by this standard, Margaret Fuller ranks high, and, if I were to judge strictly by my own personal experience, I should say very high indeed. I shall always be grateful to the person who fixed in my memory, during early life, such sentences as these-- Yes, 0 Goethe! but the ideal is truer than the actual. This changes and that changes not. Tragedy is always a mist
him as the master, but the light use of a trivial phrase is not to be set against her distinct disclaimer, as just quoted. She was indeed too omnivorous a reader, too ardent and fertile a thinker, to go through the successive bondages by which many fine minds — especially the minds of women — work their way to freedom. Miss Martineau, for instance, with all her native vigor, was always following with implicit confidence some particular guide or model; in early life her brother James, then Malthus, then Garrison, then Comte, then even Atkinson; but in Margaret Fuller's case, though there were many friendships, there was no personal and controlling ruler. Emerson came the nearest to this, and yet we see by her letters how frankly she could criticise even him. Her danger lay in the direction of originality, not of imitation ; of too much divergence, not too much concentration. Coming in contact, as she did, with some of the strongest men of her time; first the Boston Transcendentalis
J. W. Von Goethe (search for this): chapter 18
If this feeling existed about Kant it was still stronger about Goethe. Even the genial Longfellow spoke of that monstrous book, the Eleellow's friend Felton translated Menzel's German Litature, in which Goethe appears as a pretender and quite a secondary person. Yet Margaret e same time, was supposed to model herself after the marble statue, Goethe. The charge was self-contradicting; and is worth naming only as beIn the most important period of her early life she wrote, As to Goethe . . . I do not go to him as a guide or friend, but as a great thinke, R. I., July 3, 1837. At this very time she was planning to write Goethe's biography and preparing to translate Eckermann's conversations wimy memory, during early life, such sentences as these-- Yes, 0 Goethe! but the ideal is truer than the actual. This changes and that chcta to her continuous criticisms, I should name her second paper on Goethe in the Dial; Dial, II. I (July, 1841, reprinted in Life without
views; and, for this country, an unusual refinement and extent of culture. We have been accustomed to hear Mr. Lowell so extravagantly lauded by the circle of his friends, that we should be hopeless of escaping the wrath of his admirers, for any terms in which our expressions of sympathy could be couched, but for the more modest and dignified tone of his own preface, which presents ground on which the world at large can meet him. With his admirers, we have often been reminded of a fervent Italian who raved at one of our country-women as a heartless girl, because she would not go to walk with him alone at midnight. But Mr. Lowell himself speaks of his work as becomes one conversant with those of great and accomplished minds. Later in the same year (1845), however, in that essay on American literature which appeared for the first time in her Papers, she wrote the words which created so much indignation, and which simply show that no critic can look forward with infallible judgment
Wordsworth (search for this): chapter 18
Shelley's verse can only be paralleled by the waterfall, the rivulet, the notes of the bird and of the insect world ; or when she speaks of the balm applied by Wordsworth to the public heart after the fever of Byron; or depicts the strange bleak fidelity of Crabbe; or says of Campbell that lie did not possess as much lyric flow a on Modern British poets in Papers on literature and Art; and the dialogue between Aglauron and Laurie in the same volume. In this last there are criticisms on Wordsworth which go deeper, I venture to think, than anything Lowell has written on the same subject. I do not recall any other critic on this poet who has linked togethe There is a change and I am poor, and has pointed out that these two give us a glimpse of a profounder personal emotion and a deeper possibility of sadness in Wordsworth than all else that he has written put together. There are also admirable remarks on Coleridge and on Shakespeare; and how fine in thought, how simply and admir
Horace Greeley (search for this): chapter 18
him. Her danger lay in the direction of originality, not of imitation ; of too much divergence, not too much concentration. Coming in contact, as she did, with some of the strongest men of her time; first the Boston Transcendentalists; then Horace Greeley in New York; then Mazzini in Italy: she was still her own mistress, still nullius addicta jurare in verba magistri. This showed not merely a strong nature — for strength alone does not secure independence — but a rich and wise one. In reghis admitted, the fact remains that there was not a trace of personal rancor or grievance in either case; her whole career, indeed, being singularly free from this lowest of literary vices. In regard to Longfellow, she in the first place, as Horace Greeley tells us, wished to be excused from reviewing him; and then stated without disguise why she criticised him so frankly: because he seemed to her over-praised, and because she thought him exotic. This she says in her own words more distinctly
Heinrich Heine (search for this): chapter 18
e erred as to Scott, and Margaret Fuller as to Lowell; but we must remember that Scott's poetry was all published when Coleridge's criticism was made; while Margaret Fuller wrote when Lowell had printed only his Class poem and two early volumes; the Biglow papers and Sir Launfal, and all the works by which he is now best known being still unwritten. It was simply a mistaken literary estimate, not flavored with the slightest personal sting ; and it would be hardly possible, in these milder days, for such a criticism to call out the kind of retaliation that is to be found in the Fable for critics. But that was a period, as has already been intimated, of great literary truculence; a time when, as Heine says of the Germans, an author, like an African chief, felt bound to moisten the base of his own throne with the blood of his slain foes. Lowell, probably, also thought that, in the case of Margaret Fuller, he was immolating the good-natured Longfellow's literary enemies with his own.
Robert Burns (search for this): chapter 18
an prose-writers, they may turn to that essay. There were two points in which no one exceeded her at the time and place in which she lived. First, she excelled in lyric glimpses, or the power of putting a high thought into a sentence. If few of her sentences have passed into the common repertory of quotation, that is not a final test. The greatest poet is not necessarily the most quoted or quotable poet. Pope fills twenty-four pages in Bartlett's Dictionary of Quotations, Moore eight, Burns but six, Keats but two, and the Brownings taken together less than half a page. The test of an author is not to be found merely in the number of his phrases that pass current in the corners of newspapers — else would Josh Billings be at the head of literature ;but in the number of passages that have really taken root in younger minds. Tried by this standard, Margaret Fuller ranks high, and, if I were to judge strictly by my own personal experience, I should say very high indeed. I shall
His interest in the moral questions of the day has supplied the want of vitality in himself; his great facility at versification has enabled him to fill the ear with a copious stream of pleasant sound. But his verse is stereotyped; his thought sounds no depth, and posterity will not remember him. Papers on literature and Art, p. 308. This last is very nearly what Coleridge said of Scott. He said, Not twenty lines of Scott's poetry will ever reach posterity; it has relation to nothing. Alsop's Letters, conversations, etc. Of Coleridge, Am. ed. p. 116. Coleridge erred as to Scott, and Margaret Fuller as to Lowell; but we must remember that Scott's poetry was all published when Coleridge's criticism was made; while Margaret Fuller wrote when Lowell had printed only his Class poem and two early volumes; the Biglow papers and Sir Launfal, and all the works by which he is now best known being still unwritten. It was simply a mistaken literary estimate, not flavored with the slighte
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