Poetic Influences

Poetic Influences:

            W.S Merwin’s first book of poems, which earned him the Yale Younger Poets Prize series in 1952, is both a prime example of Merwin’s interests and influences. More symbolic of his early work, his first poems were heavily influenced by themes of mythology, classical and medieval. This aspect was in large respect due to Wallace Stevens and Robert Graves, both of which wrote extensively on the matter. Of the two men, Graves was the most significant in Merwin’s poetic career. The two first met when Merwin was hired for a private tutor of Grave’s son. Beyond introducing Merwin the top brass of the literary world, Grave’s was of great influence in Merwin’s professional career. Graves was well known for his work regarding mythology. Indeed something that would later prove significant Merwin’s publications.

Upon relinquishing his job with Grave’s, a volume of Merwin’s verse, The Mask of Janus, was accepted for publication. The poem was renowned for its strong infusion of traditional forms, and its wide-ranging allusion to classical literature and mythology, a testament to Grave’s influence.

The poemsI researched and now have come to present  one Merwin’s later works. The poem (See analysis below) is heavily influenced by classical literature (as it is such). But beyond acting as a testament to Merwins wide array of literary talents, the verse illustrates the strong connection with classical literature and mythology in Merwin’s literary career.  An influence conceived very much by Robert Graves.

Canto XXXI Dante’s Purgatorio (2000)

            The poem below is not an organic production of Merwin, but rather the product of his well versed talents in translation. As I noted above, the poem aptly applies to requirement D, because it is both classical work, and one of influential status.

Canto XXXI Dante’s Purgatorio

"O thou who art beyond the sacred river,"

Turning to me the point of her discourse,

That edgewise even had seemed to me so keen,

She recommenced, continuing without pause,
"Say, say if this be true; to such a charge,
Thy own confession needs must be conjoined."

My faculties were in so great confusion,
That the voice moved, but sooner was extinct
Than by its organs it was set at large.

Awhile she waited; then she said: "What thinkest?10
Answer me; for the mournful memories
In thee not yet are by the waters injured."

Confusion and dismay together mingled
Forced such a Yes! from out my mouth, that sight
Was needful to the understanding of it.

Even as a cross-bow breaks, when 'tis discharged
Too tensely drawn the bowstring and the bow,
And with less force the arrow hits the mark,

So I gave way beneath that heavy burden,
Outpouring in a torrent tears and sighs,20
And the voice flagged upon its passage forth.

Whence she to me: "In those desires of mine
Which led thee to the loving of that good,
Beyond which there is nothing to aspire to,

What trenches lying traverse or what chains
Didst thou discover, that of passing onward
Thou shouldst have thus despoiled thee of the hope?

And what allurements or what vantages
Upon the forehead of the others showed,
That thou shouldst turn thy footsteps unto them?"30

After the heaving of a bitter sigh,
Hardly had I the voice to make response,
And with fatigue my lips did fashion it.

Weeping I said: "The things that present were
With their false pleasure turned aside my steps,
Soon as your countenance concealed itself."

And she: "Shouldst thou be silent, or deny
What thou confessest, not less manifest
Would be thy fault, by such a Judge 'tis known.

But when from one's own cheeks comes bursting forth40
The accusal of the sin, in our tribunal
Against the edge the wheel doth turn itself.

But still, that thou mayst feel a greater shame
For thy transgression, and another time
Hearing the Sirens thou mayst be more strong,

Cast down the seed of weeping and attend;
So shalt thou hear, how in an opposite way
My buried flesh should have directed thee.

Never to thee presented art or nature
Pleasure so great as the fair limbs wherein50
I was enclosed, which scattered are in earth.

And if the highest pleasure thus did fail thee
By reason of my death, what mortal thing
Should then have drawn thee into its desire?

Thou oughtest verily at the first shaft
Of things fallacious to have risen up
To follow me, who was no longer such.

Thou oughtest not to have stooped thy pinions downward
To wait for further blows, or little girl,
Or other vanity of such brief use.60

The callow birdlet waits for two or three,
But to the eyes of those already fledged,
In vain the net is spread or shaft is shot."

Even as children silent in their shame
Stand listening with their eyes upon the ground,
And conscious of their fault, and penitent;

So was I standing; and she said: "If thou
In hearing sufferest pain, lift up thy beard
And thou shalt feel a greater pain in seeing."

With less resistance is a robust holm70
Uprooted, either by a native wind
Or else by that from regions of Iarbas,

Than I upraised at her command my chin;
And when she by the beard the face demanded,
Well I perceived the venom of her meaning.

And as my countenance was lifted up,
Mine eye perceived those creatures beautiful
Had rested from the strewing of the flowers;

And, still but little reassured, mine eyes
Saw Beatrice turned round towards the monster,80
That is one person only in two natures.

Beneath her veil, beyond the margent green,
She seemed to me far more her ancient self
To excel, than others here, when she was here.

So pricked me then the thorn of penitence,
That of all other things the one which turned me
Most to its love became the most my foe.

Such self-conviction stung me at the heart
O'erpowered I fell, and what I then became
She knoweth who had furnished me the cause.90

Then, when the heart restored my outward sense,
The lady I had found alone, above me
I saw, and she was saying, "Hold me, hold me."

Up to my throat she in the stream had drawn me,
And, dragging me behind her, she was moving
Upon the water lightly as a shuttle.

When I was near unto the blessed shore,
"Asperges me," I heard so sweetly sung,
Remember it I cannot, much less write it.

The beautiful lady opened wide her arms,100
Embraced my head, and plunged me underneath,
Where I was forced to swallow of the water.

Then forth she drew me, and all dripping brought
Into the dance of the four beautiful,
And each one with her arm did cover me.

'We here are Nymphs, and in the Heaven are stars;
Ere Beatrice descended to the world,
We as her handmaids were appointed her.

We'll lead thee to her eyes; but for the pleasant
Light that within them is, shall sharpen thine110
The three beyond, who more profoundly look.'

Thus singing they began; and afterwards
Unto the Griffin's breast they led me with them,
Where Beatrice was standing, turned towards us.

"See that thou dost not spare thine eyes," they said;
"Before the emeralds have we stationed thee,
Whence Love aforetime drew for thee his weapons."

A thousand longings, hotter than the flame,
Fastened mine eyes upon those eyes relucent,
That still upon the Griffin steadfast stayed.120

As in a glass the sun, not otherwise
Within them was the twofold monster shining,
Now with the one, now with the other nature.

Think, Reader, if within myself I marvelled,
When I beheld the thing itself stand still,
And in its image it transformed itself.

While with amazement filled and jubilant,
My soul was tasting of the food, that while
It satisfies us makes us hunger for it,

Themselves revealing of the highest rank130
In bearing, did the other three advance,
Singing to their angelic saraband.

"Turn, Beatrice, O turn thy holy eyes,"
Such was their song, "unto thy faithful one,
Who has to see thee ta'en so many steps.

In grace do us the grace that thou unveil
Thy face to him, so that he may discern
The second beauty which thou dost conceal."

O splendour of the living light eternal!
Who underneath the shadow of Parnassus140
Has grown so pale, or drunk so at its cistern,

He would not seem to have his mind encumbered
Striving to paint thee as thou didst appear,
Where the harmonious heaven o'ershadowed thee,

When in the open air thou didst unveil?

           

Canto XXXI of Dante’s Purgatorio is one the many verses of Dante’s Purgatorio. Apparently (I know little on the matter so I will do my best summarize) the basic premise is that it is the sequel to Dante’s Inferno.  It starts off just where Inferno began, in Hell.  Specifically, Canto XXXI is when

Beatrice concludes her harsh remark, and Dante is left incapable of speech. He is overcome by remorse, admits his guilty, and faints for shame. When he comes to his sense, he discovers that Matelda has drawn him into the stream, Lethe, immersing him completely so he drinks some of the waters. The she leads him on the other side, where he is accepted by dancing ladies. At this point he can stare at Beatrice in the eyes, where he sees the reflection of the griffin, and the mystical union between Dante and Beatrice takes place. * http://www.italianstudies.org/hui235/Purg-outline1.htm

Allegorically, the Purgatorio represents Christian life, in that Christian souls arrive escorted by an angel, apparently sining in exitu Israel de Aegypto. This installment is notable for its demonstration of the medieval ethos regarding spherical Earth. Purgatorio is the second installment of Dante’s work; it falls between Inferno and Paradiso.

           

1915 by Robert Graves

            More of an obscure connection to the influences of Merwin’s work, the devote aversion to conflict and imperialism, prevalent in both Merwin’s poems and private life, can be attributed to the early writings of Graves and his experience during WW1. Merwin is a pacifist by nature, and as such opposes anything contradictory to his values. As one of the more influential people in his life, Grave’s wrote extensively on his experiences during war, and no doubt some of these rubbed off on Merwin.

            The following poem bellow was written and conceived from Grave’s wartime deployments. On August 1914 Grave’s enlisted as a junior officer in the Royal Welch Fusiliers. He fought in the Battle of Loos and was injured in the Somme offensive in 1916. During his deployments he published his first collection of poetry, Over the Brazier. By the wars conclusion, and after being injured severely for a second time, Grave’s had written three volumes on the matter, a lot of which would later be published.

1915 by Robert Graves

I’ve watched the Seasons passing slow, so slow,

In the fields between La Bassée and Bethune;

Primroses and the first warm day of Spring,

Red poppy floods of June,

August, and yellowing Autumn, so

To Winter nights knee-deep in mud or snow,

And you’ve been everything.

Dear, you’ve been everything that I most lack

In these soul-deadening trenches—pictures, books,

Music, the quiet of an English wood,

Beautiful comrade-looks,

The narrow, bouldered mountain-track,

The broad, full-bosomed ocean, green and black,

And Peace, and all that’s good.