Winter Reading
Posted on 24 February 2010 | 2 responses
The weather has been unusually cold and yesterday’s snow made my little neighborhood look like a different and more enchanting place. I loved yesterday. It was a day filled with exhilarating romping in the snow with my children until night fell and we literally tumbled indoors feeling exhausted and content. Then the night became one of those glorious winter nights where everything is so cold and beautiful outside while I was cozy and comfortable within. Cuddled in my favorite quilt (made by my grandmother) I read some of Rossetti’s poetry. I’ve decided to share some of my favorites:
Sudden Light
I have been here before,
But when or how I cannot tell:
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell,
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.
You have been mine before,—
How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that swallow’s soar
Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall,—I knew it all of yore.
Has this been thus before?
And shall not thus time’s eddying flight
Still with our lives our love restore
In death’s despite,
And day and night yield one delight once more?
The Card-Dealer
Could you not drink her gaze like wine?
Yet though its splendour swoon
Into the silence languidly
As a tune into a tune,
Those eyes unravel the coiled night
And know the stars at noon.
The gold that’s heaped beside her hand,
In truth rich prize it were;
And rich the dreams that wreathe her brows
With magic stillness there;
And he were rich who should unwind
That woven golden hair.
Around her, where she sits, the dance
Now breathes its eager heat;
And not more lightly or more true
Fall there the dancers’ feet
Than fall her cards on the bright board
As ’twere an heart that beat.
Her fingers let them softly through,
Smooth polished silent things;
And each one as it falls reflects
In swift light-shadowings,
Blood-red and purple, green and blue,
The great eyes of her rings.
Whom plays she with? With thee, who lov’st
Those gems upon her hand;
With me, who search her secret brows;
With all men, bless’d or bann’d.
We play together, she and we,
Within a vain strange land:
A land without any order,—
Day even as night, (one saith,)—
Where who lieth down ariseth not
Nor the sleeper awakeneth;
A land of darkness as darkness itself
And of the shadow of death.
What be her cards, you ask? Even these:—
The heart, that doth but crave
More, having fed; the diamond,
Skilled to make base seem brave;
The club, for smiting in the dark;
The spade, to dig a grave.
And do you ask what game she plays?
With me ’tis lost or won;
With thee it is playing still; with him
It is not well begun;
But ’tis a game she plays with all
Beneath the sway o’ the sun.
Thou seest the card that falls,—she knows
The card that followeth:
Her game in thy tongue is called Life,
As ebbs thy daily breath:
When she shall speak, thou’lt learn her tongue
And know she calls it Death.
The Dark Glass
Not I myself know all my love for thee:
How should I reach so far, who cannot weigh
To-morrow’s dower by gage of yesterday?
Shall birth and death, and all dark names that be
As doors and windows bared to some loud sea,
Lash deaf mine ears and blind my face with spray;
And shall my sense pierce love,—the last relay
And ultimate outpost of eternity?
Lo! what am I to Love, the lord of all?
One murmuring shell he gathers from the sand,—
One little heart-flame sheltered in his hand.
Yet through thine eyes he grants me clearest call
And veriest touch of powers primordial
That any hour-girt life may understand.
On this day in 1862
Posted on 11 February 2010 | 3 responses
On February 11, 1862, Elizabeth Siddal died of an overdose of Laudanum. This was a tragic end to a very sad period of her life. She and her husband, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, had suffered the birth of a stillborn daughter and Lizzie was in the throes of grief and depression. She was also in the grip of addiction.
Her death set in motion another series of events that has helped to make Elizabeth Siddal a famous Pre-Raphaelite legend. Rossetti was distraught with grief and guilt. So he made the decision to bury his only manuscript of his poems with Lizzie, laying the volume against the famous red locks that he and others had painted repeatedly. Seven years later, Rossetti was a tortured soul. He suffered from bouts of depression and insomnia. He became a heavy drinker and also used Chloral. Those poems haunted him.
His unscrupulous agent, Charles Augustus Howell, suggested retrieving the manuscript. Lizzie was exhumed from her grave in Highgate Cemetery and the manuscript was disinfected and returned to Rossetti. He was not present at the exhumation and the story that Lizzie remained pristine and that her hair had continued to grow after death was most likely a fabrication on Howell’s part, meant to silence any grief or Rossetti had about the ghastly business.
Beata Beatrix is a posthumous tribute Rossetti painted to his wife. Once again, he has cast her in the role of Dante’s Beatrice, his unattainable love. At LizzieSiddal.com, you’ll find discussions on more than one version of this work: Beata Beatrix part I, Beata Beatrix part II.
Which Pre-Raphaelite painting would you like to see come to life?
Posted on 11 January 2010 | 8 responses
The fabulous team behind the Lady of Shalott film is at it again! Their current project involves creating four short comic sketches based on famous paintings. They have already created Mona Lisa and American Gothic and are about to do Girl with a Pearl Earring (Vermeer). You may remember that I’ve included the Mona Lisa and American Gothic videos in a previous post.
Now here’s where you come in! They have not fully decided which painting to do for the fourth video, and a Pre-Raphaelite work is a possibility. As you can see in their work, they treat the subject matter seriously and with affection, but give it an amusing twist. I’ve been asked to open this query with readers of this blog. They would love to hear your suggestions on which Pre-Raphaelite painting to tackle for their fourth video, so please post a comment!
The Mirror!
Posted on 7 January 2010 | No responses
In this previous post, I mentioned a mirror seen in Fair Rosamund and Queen Eleanor by Burne-Jones and also in The Return of Tibullus to Delia by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. This seemingly mundane object has captured my attention, mainly because I have this nagging feeling that I’ve also seen it elsewhere, but can’t remember where.
I was so excited this morning when Grace (she of The Beautiful Necessity) shared with me that she had happened upon the very same mirror while reading Memorials of Edward Burne-Jones.
“…[Burne-Jones'] father was very happy in framing his son’s pictures, but alas, any original design which must be exactly carried out baffled the skill of his small workshop, and Edward had gently and by degrees to let the arrangement …drop through. A mirror still exists, made by Mr. Jones with his own hands, and intended to be a ring of small round mirrors placed at equal distances from each other, and encircling a larger one. The measurement of the spaces, however, was faulty, and destroyed the effect of the design. It is painted in the little water-colour of “Rosamond’s Bower” with the fierce face of Queen Eleanor reflected in each separate disc.” –p215, Memorials of Edward Burne-Jones
I’m glad that the mirror that had so captured my attention has such a nice story behind it. I find it touching that it was handcrafted by Ned’s father and that it appears in his work. It is personal touches like these that endear the Pre-Raphaelites to me and inspires me to continue to learn about them and the world in which they lived.
Old and New Year Ditties by Christina Rossetti
Posted on 5 January 2010 | 1 response
Christina Rossetti’s Old and New Year Ditties strike me as somewhat melancholy and I can’t help but feel a bit sorry for her when I read them:
1
New Year met me somewhat sad:
Old Year leaves me tired,
Stripped of favourite things I had
Baulked of much desired:
Yet farther on my road to-day
God willing, farther on my way.
New Year coming on apace
What have you to give me?
Bring you scathe, or bring you grace,
Face me with an honest face;
You shall not deceive me:
Be it good or ill, be it what you will,
It needs shall help me on my road,
My rugged way to heaven, please God.
2
Watch with me, men, women, and children dear,
You whom I love, for whom I hope and fear,
Watch with me this last vigil of the year.
Some hug their business, some their pleasure-scheme;
Some seize the vacant hour to sleep or dream;
Heart locked in heart some kneel and watch apart.
Watch with me blessèd spirits, who delight
All through the holy night to walk in white,
Or take your ease after the long-drawn fight.
I know not if they watch with me: I know
They count this eve of resurrection slow,
And cry, ‘How long?’ with urgent utterance strong.
Watch with me Jesus, in my loneliness:
Though others say me nay, yet say Thou yes;
Though others pass me by, stop Thou to bless.
Yea, Thou dost stop with me this vigil night;
To-night of pain, to-morrow of delight:
I, Love, am Thine; Thou, Lord my God, art mine.
3
Passing away, saith the World, passing away:
Chances, beauty and youth sapped day by day:
Thy life never continueth in one stay.
Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to grey
That hath won neither laurel nor bay?
I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May:
Thou, root-stricken, shalt not rebuild thy decay
On my bosom for aye.
Then I answered: Yea.
Passing away, saith my Soul, passing away:
With its burden of fear and hope, of labour and play;
Hearken what the past doth witness and say:
Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array,
A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay.
At midnight, at cockcrow, at morning, one certain day
Lo, the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay:
Watch thou and pray.
Then I answered: Yea.
Passing away, saith my God, passing away:
Winter passeth after the long delay:
New grapes on the vine, new figs on the tender spray,
Turtle calleth turtle in Heaven’s May.
Though I tarry wait for Me, trust Me, watch and pray:
Arise, come away, night is past and lo it is day,
My love, My sister, My spouse, thou shalt hear Me say.
Then I answered: Yea.
Happy 2010!
Posted on 31 December 2009 | 2 responses
I am looking forward to a new year! I send you all good wishes as we begin this new decade! I do not usually make New Year’s Resolutions, but this holiday season I’ve been haunted by the realization that I need to spend more time here at Pre-Raphaelite Sisterhood and at LizzieSiddal.com! I intend to start the new year with a renewed and positive energy, embracing the good things in my life and allowing the negatives to simply fall away. May we all nurture the wonderful moments in our life, including an indulgence in Pre-Raphaelite beauty!
A Christmas Carol
Posted on 24 December 2009 | No responses
A Christmas Carol, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
-Stephanie Pina
- Random Selection:Ten Things You Never Knew About Ophelia
