Moreover, he frequently balanced a statement of a thesis and antithesis somewhere within each line, as in these lines from his Essay on Criticism: Careless of censure nor too fond of fame; Still pleased to praise, yet not afraid to blame; Averse alike to flatter, or offend; Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend. Upon rising, she sees that a billet-doux, or a love-letter, has arrived for her, causing her to forget the details of the dream. The English do not boast of classical literature. Think not, when Woman's transient breath is fled That all her vanities at once are dead; Succeeding vanities she still regards, And tho' she plays no more, o'erlooks the cards. Jove's thunder roars, heav'n trembles all around; Blue Neptune storms, the bellowing deeps resound; Earth shakes her nodding tow'rs, the ground gives way; And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day! Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul. The verse form of The Rape of the Lock is the heroic couplet; Pope still reigns as the uncontested master of the form. Fama Fraternitatis и Confessio Fraternitatis, според които четирите елемента — въздух, земя, вода и огън — са обитавани съответно от четири вида духове — силфи, гноми, нимфи и саламандри.
Sol thro' white Curtains shot a tim'rous Ray, And op'd those Eyes that must eclipse the Day; Now Lapdogs give themselves the rowzing Shake, And sleepless Lovers, just at Twelve, awake: Thrice rung the Bell, the Slipper knock'd the Ground, And the press'd Watch return'd a silver Sound. Why deck'd with all that Land and Sea afford, Why Angels call'd, and Angel-like ador'd? However, she discards it as casual dream. Second, the poem is written in heroic couplets, which means rhyming pairs of iambic pentameter - so if Shakespeare had rhymed all of his lines, that would be heroic couplets. In the scuffle, it appears that Belinda's treasured lock is now lost forever. Arabella Fermor Madam, It will be in vain to deny that I have some Regard for this Piece, since I Dedicate it to You.
The graver Prude sinks downward to a Gnome, In search of Mischief still on Earth to roam. Pope's point there - and this is where the satire starts - is that the society of his day placed too much emphasis on trivial things like surface beauty thank God we're over that. All but the Sylph — With careful Thoughts opprest, Th' impending Woe sate heavy on his Breast. It is thus perfect for the evaluative, moralizing premise of the poem, particularly in the hands of this brilliant poet. Think what an equipage thou hast in Air, And view with scorn two Pages and a Chair. A burlesque is a parody on a large scale, in which not a single poem, but a whole type of style of literature is parodied, the language and thought proper to a serious theme reproduced in setting forth something ridiculous or trivial. And now, unveil'd, the Toilet stands display'd, Each Silver Vase in mystic Order laid.
With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre, And breathes three amorous sighs to raise the fire. Why round our coaches crowd the white-glov'd Beaux, Why bows the side-box from its inmost rows; How vain are all these glories, all our pains, Unless good sense preserve what beauty gains: That men may say, when we the front-box grace: 'Behold the first in virtue as in face! When bold Sir Plume had drawn Clarissa down. The Fair ones feel such Maladies as these, When each new Night-Dress gives a new Disease. Pope was the greatest master of the metrical and rhetorical possibilities of the heroic couplet; he turned this concise, restrictive form into a dynamic world of ideas and characters. Unnumber'd Treasures ope at once, and here The various Off'rings of the World appear; From each she nicely culls with curious Toil, And decks the Goddess with the glitt'ring Spoil. Oh had I staid, and said my prayers at home! Now glaring Fiends, and Snakes on rolling Spires, Pale Spectres, gaping Tombs, and Purple Fires: Now Lakes of liquid Gold, Elysian Scenes, And Crystal Domes, and Angels in Machines. When bold Sir Plume had drawn Clarissa down, Chloe stepp'd in, and kill'd him with a frown; She smil'd to see the doughty hero slain, But, at her smile, the Beau reviv'd again.
See, fierce Belinda on the baron flies, With more than usual lightning in her eyes, Nor fear'd the chief th' unequal fight to try, Who sought no more than on his foe to die. That's the version - the second version - that we're going to look at today. How vain are all these Glories, all our Pains, Unless good Sense preserve what Beauty gains: That Men may say, when we the Front-box grace, Behold the first in Virtue, as in Face! Both came from aristocratic families and were friends to Pope. But this bold lord with manly strength endu'd, She with one finger and a thumb subdu'd: Just where the breath of life his nostrils drew, A charge of snuff the wily virgin threw; The Gnomes direct, to ev'ry atom just, The pungent grains of titillating dust. Some secret Truths from Learned Pride conceal'd, To Maids alone and Children are reveal'd: What tho' no Credit doubting Wits may give? Form a strong line about the silver bound, And guard the wide circumference around. Say what strange Motive, Goddess! In The Rape of the Lock, the satire comes from the fact that Pope is using high-and-mighty classical epic form - the tradition of Homer - but he's really telling a story that is incredibly trivial. The Tortoise here and Elephant unite, Transform'd to Combs, the speckled and the white.
And shall this prize, th' inestimable prize, Expos'd thro' crystal to the gazing eyes, And heighten'd by the diamond's circling rays, On that rapacious hand for ever blaze? To patch, nay ogle, might become a Saint, Nor could it sure be such a Sin to paint. Soft yielding minds to Water glide away, And sip, with Nymphs, their elemental Tea. Him Basto follow'd, but his fate more hard Gain'd but one trump and one Plebeian card. This Nymph, to the destruction of mankind, Nourish'd two Locks, which graceful hung behind In equal curls, and well conspir'd to deck With shining ringlets the smooth iv'ry neck. For this with Fillets strain'd your tender Head, And bravely bore the double Loads of Lead? The Sister-Lock now sits uncouth, alone, And in its Fellow's Fate foresees its own; Uncurl'd it hangs, the fatal Sheers demands; And tempts once more thy sacrilegious Hands. The Fair and Innocent shall still believe. These aerial spirits are small and insignificant things, and are, therefore, exactly in keeping with the triviality of the theme.
এর চেয়ে গল্প নিয়ে, উপন্যাস নিয়ে কথা বলা কত সহজ, তখনো মতানৈক্য থাকে, থাকবে, কিন্তু অন্তত স্পষ্ট করে দেয়া যায় যে আমি কী ধরনের কাজ খুঁজি বা চাই, বা আমার চিন্তার গতিপ্রকৃতি আদপে কী রকম। রেইপ অফ দা লক আমি কিনলাম মনে হয় একটা পুরান বইয়ের দোকান থেকে এক সপ্তাহ হইছে কি হয় নাই। তখনো জানতাম না এই বই কী নিয়ে, ভুলেও তখনো ভাবি নাই যে এই কবিতার বিষয়ঘাট আসলে খোপা চুরি যাওয়া। কবে পড়া হইত কে জানে, কিন্তু একজন বললেন, না, বইটা নাকী বেশ ভালো, পড়ে ফেললাম তখন। সেই আমলের লোকের অদ্ভূত সব আচরণরে বিদ্রুপ করে গেছেন কবি একদিকে, আর আরেকদিকে সে কি বয়ান, খোদা। মধুমাখা বয়ান না কোনো, কিন্তু সুন্দর। টীকার দিকে যদি চোখ থাকে, তাহলে বিদ্রুপ আর ঐ প্রাক্তনদের দিকে ছুড়ে দেয়া আঙুলই চোখে পড়বে, কিন্তু তাহলে আবার আপনার হয়ত ভাষার দিকে খেয়াল থাকবে না। পড়ে যাওয়া যায়, দ্বিপদী কাব্যের মাঝ দিয়ে কী তীব্র এক খোঁচা চলে যাচ্ছে তড়তড় করে, চোখেই পড়ে না যেনো, যখনই বা পড়ে, অবাক হয়ে যেতে হয়। চমৎকার কবিতা। পোপের একটা রেসিপি ছিলো ধ্রুপদী কবিতা নিয়ে, যেখানে সে ধ্রুপদী কবিদের এক হাত দলে দিছে, কিন্তু এই কবিতাটারে সেই ধারার অংশ বলে মনে হইলো না, বরং সন্দেহ হয়, এইটাই মনে হয় সেই যুগের সত্যিকারের ধ্রুপদ, সেই যুগের বিষয়াশয় ত আসলে এইগুলিই। যা বলতেছিলাম, কবিতা নিয়ে কথা বলতে খুব সমস্যা, এই কবিতা ভালো লাগলো, ছন্দের কারণে, বক্তব্যও মন্দ না, খোঁচাগুলি প্রচণ্ড তীব্র, এই সব মিলায়ে। কিন্তু তবুও, অনেকের ক্ষেত্রে হয়ত আবার খাটবে না এসব কিছুই। ১৭১২-র টুকুও জুড়ে দেয়া ছিলো শেষে। সন্দেহ হচ্ছে, ঐটাই হয়ত ভালো ছিলো আরো, আরো সহজে আগায়, আরো সহজে বলে দেয় সব। পরে পড়াতে বলতে পারতেছি না, তাছাড়া ১৭১৪-রটায় ত এর প্রায় পুরোটাই আছে ভেতরে ভেতরে। অরজিনাল মালিক বইটারে দাগায়ে খেয়ে ফেলছে। দাগগুলিও সুন্দর, গালমন্দও করতে পারতেছি না আমি। This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. Ixion: In Greek mythology, the king Ixion was bound to a wheel as punishment for his love for Hera. In the end, you see that Pope finds a bit of sympathy for Belinda despite her folly - her obsession with her beauty - and he manages to sneak in a bit of a moral for anyone who's paying close enough attention. Not fierce Othello in so loud a strain Roar'd for the handkerchief that caused his pain. Amaz'd, confus'd, he found his Pow'r expir'd, Resign'd to Fate, and with a Sigh retir'd. Ev'n mighty Pam, that Kings and Queens o'erthrew And mow'd down armies in the fights of Lu, Sad chance of war! My hands shall rend what ev'n thy Rapine spares: These, in two sable Ringlets taught to break, Once gave new Beauties to the snowie Neck.
This casket India's glowing gems unlocks, And all Arabia breathes from yonder box. Two Handmaids wait the Throne: Alike in Place, But diff'ring far in Figure and in Face. Then prostrate falls, and begs with ardent Eyes Soon to obtain, and long possess the Prize: The Pow'rs gave Ear, and granted half his Pray'r, The rest, the Winds dispers'd in empty Air. The skilful Nymph reviews her Force with Care; Let Spades be Trumps, she said, and Trumps they were. Belinda burns with more than mortal Ire, And fierce Thalestris fans the rising Fire. This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers.
The Sylphs behold it kindling as it flies, And pleas'd pursue its progress through the skies. Smooth flow the Waves, the Zephyrs gently play Belinda smil'd, and all the World was gay. The Rebel-Knave, who dares his Prince engage, Proves the just Victim of his Royal Rage. Now meet thy fate, incens'd Belinda cry'd, And drew a deadly bodkin from her side. Poetry and Alexander Pope, rather than vanity and petty quarrelling, win in the end. Не бива да забравяме, че в онези времена положението на жената е било сведено до чисто декоративно и едно подобно покушение над нейната красота би било фатално за социалния й статус. Of these am I, who thy Protection claim, A watchful Sprite, and Ariel is my Name.
I will lay steps, the mystery unfold Things long-known, though never grow they old. Whether the nymph shall break Diana's law, Or some frail china jar receive a flaw: Or stain her honour, or her new brocade; Forget her prayers, or miss a masquerade; Or lose her heart, or necklace at a ball; Or whether Heaven has doom'd that Shock must fall. As to the following Canto's, all the passages of them are as fabulous, as the Vision at the beginning, or the Transformation at the end; except the loss of your Hair, which I always mention with reverence. This work was originally published anonymously in May of 1712, but Pope would eventually expand The Rape of the Lock and publish it again under his own name a few years later. Safe past the Gnome thro' this fantastick Band, A Branch of healing Spleenwort in his hand. Amid the circle, on the gilded mast, Superior by the head, was Ariel plac'd; His purple pinions op'ning to the sun, He rais'd his azure wand, and thus begun.