The Twelfth Day Of Christmas And The End Of Christmastide 2025-26

Today is the twelfth and final day of Christmastide or the Twelve Days of Christmas. This day is important among Christians who maintain liturgical traditions: first, it marks the end of a 1500 year-old festival celebrating the birth of Christ, and second, it is the eve of Epiphany. It is also the beginning of the carnival season ending with Mardi Gras and the beginning of Lent. Those who are reluctant to bid Christmas farewell can take heart knowing that some traditions of Christmastide extend through February 2 or Candlemas, the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple. Candlemas occurs on the 40th day of and the end of the liturgical Christmas-Epiphany season. In my home I'll be removing decorations day by day until February 2 when our simple manger scene stands alone in the library awaiting Christmas future.

For some the Twelve Days of Christmas will end with elaborate costumes, masks, feasting, music, dancing, and theater at Twelfth Night festivities where misrule is the only rule. They are indeed topsy-turvy events. Only the Surveyor of Ceremonies will appear without a mask. He will direct the company through a series of games and other activities beginning with the distribution of the Twelfth Cakes. When all the party goers have arrived, each will select a small festival cake or cake slice. Three of those cakes contain a hidden bean or token designating them as the king cake, queen cake and fool cake. The lucky holders of the royal cakes oversee the evening's activities before returning to their normal lives, most likely "below the salt."

Twelfth Night (The King Drinks) David Teniers, ca 1634

These Twelfth Night traditions have been part of western culture for over a thousand years. Some traditions carry over the night into Epiphany, January 6. This is the case in New Orleans where Twelfth Night parties have been popular for centuries due in part to their role as opening events of the Carnival season.

Twelfth Night festivities in New Orleans in 1884

We trust that you have experienced a wonder-filled Christmas. May you live throughout this new year in the spirit of Twelfth Night, finding joy and happiness in what often seems a disordered world. In the words of William Shakespeare, who had a bit to say about this evening in Twelfth Night, (Act II, Scene 5):

Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
Great or common - What you will!

And speaking of greatness here is music for the season, Johann Sebastian Bach's Magnificat in D Major. The composition was originally written in Leipzig for Christmas 1723 and contained four seasonal hymns. In 1730 the composer revised the work by dropping the four seasonal hymns and changing the key to D Major. The second version is the one most often head today. An English translation in parallel format is available here. This 2000 performance is by the Arnold Shoenberg Choir and the pioneer period instrument ensemble, Concentus Musicus Vienna. Conductor Nikolaus Harnoncourt and his wife founded the ensemble in 1953. 

Hope you're enjoying a serving of Chatham Artillery Punch tonight.

A Giant Leap In Epic High Fantasy

 

For fantasy fiction fans this day in 1954 has great significance. It is the day that J.R.R. Tolkien's The Fellowship of the Ring first appeared on store shelves in the United Kingdom. The book was the first of three volumes in the high fantasy novel we know today as The Lord of the Rings. A used copy of that first edition with its original dust jacket would fetch an owner at least $6500. An autographed copy would easily be in six figures as Tolkien was a bit of an introvert and disliked autographing his books. I doubt that sum would matter much to true fans. To them the words within are priceless.

Who was the man behind this beloved three volume narrative we know as The Lord of the Rings? The 1968 BBC video below contains some footage of an interview and explores Tolkien's real and imaginary worlds. The audio is not the best so viewers may want to use earbuds or headphones.

Below is a probing, fast-paced, and well-known Tolkien interview from BBC Radio in 1964. It was first broadcast in 1971. All of Tolkien's brilliance and eccentricity is on full display in this wide-ranging look at one of the most beloved writers of the last century. 

It would take a generation after his death (1973) before a cinematic version of his great work would, perhaps could, appear. The Lord of the Rings film series produced between 2001 and 2003 not only created a new generation of readers but also energized existing Tolkien fans to reexamine his work. All of this new energy and imagination has had a significant effect on the world of fiction and fiction writing. Tolkien's creative genius and the publication of Fellowship of the Ring - and The Hobbit - started the surge. We can't say with precision where that surge takes us but we can be certain that Tolkien's legacy will be enjoyed and expanded long into the years ahead.






Sources

Photo:
tolkienlibrary.com

Text:
wikipedia.com, J.R.R.Tolkien
tolkienestate.com
"Why Did Tolkien Write The Lord of the Rings," Michael Martinez, middle-earth.xenite.org

It's Bloomsday For Book Nerds

Today is far from an ordinary day in the world of western literature. It isn't that a number of significant events occurred or that any event occurred that day. Instead, June 16 (1904) is the setting for a several hundred page descriptive stream of happenings in the life of the fictional character, Leopold Bloom. The work is Ulysses, published in book form in 1922. The author is James Joyce. The day is Bloomsday.

Ulysses is a shape shifting piece of art written out of the ashes of the Belle Epoque, a period of peace and prosperity in Europe from around 1875 to 1917, and the alienation of an increasingly existential world. If you accept that meanings are in people this book assuredly means something different to every person who accepted the challenge to read it. You can't get more existential than that. The Swiss psychiatrist, Carl Jung, said this about it:

What is so staggering about Ulysses is the fact that behind a thousand veils nothing lies hidden; that it turns neither toward the mind nor toward the world, but, as cold as the moon looking on from cosmic space, allows the drama of growth, being, and decay to pursue its course.

First edition copy described as "unread except for the racy bits."

To say the least, Ulysses is an adventure. For some it may be merely pornographic or a huge word puzzle or a unique work of art in its truest form. However you chose to view the novel keep in mind that people are celebrating this work and its author across the world today on what has become known as Bloomsday. And even those who know nothing about Bloomsday, never read the book or know little about the author have likely encountered bits and pieces of Joyce's skill in school and through popular culture. This memorable paragraph ends the book:

I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.

I came to appreciate that quote so much for its realism and balance between the sensuous and sensual that I used it for almost twenty years in a descriptive writing course. Other quotes could have been useful but their playfulness simply made them interesting, maybe even enjoyable if you had a reading guide - an essential - at hand:

Meditations of evolution increasingly vaster: of the moon invisible in incipient lunation, approaching perigee: of the infinite lattiginous scintillating uncondensed milky way, discernible by daylight by an observer placed at the lower end of a cylindrical vertical shaft 5000 ft deep sunk from the surface towards the centre of the earth: of Sirius (alpha in Canis Maior) 10 lightyears (57,000,000,000,000 miles) distant and in volume 900 times the dimension of our planet: of Arcturus: of the precession of equinoxes: of Orion with belt and sextuple sun theta and nebula in which 100 of our solar systems could be contained: of moribund and of nascent new stars such as Nova in 1901: of our system plunging towards the constellation of Hercules: of the parallax or parallactic drift of socalled fixed stars, in reality evermoving wanderers from immeasurably remote eons to infinitely remote futures in comparison with which the years, threescore and ten, of allotted human life formed a parenthesis of infinitesimal brevity.

So there is word play at its best with lots of traditional arts and sciences, a dash of Dadaism, even a precursor or two of pataphysics. Rest assured there's more there than the racy bits.


If you want to learn more about the day, the book, and the author, visit these sites: Bloomsday, Ulysses, and James Joyce.





Sources

Photos and Illustrations:

theguardian.com, June 4, 2009, photo by Martin Argles


Text:
quotations, goodreads.com
Malcolm Cowley, Exile's Return: A Literary Odyssey of the 1920s, revised, Viking Press, 1964

Burns Night 2025

Today Scottish organizations and communities around the world are celebrating Burns Day, the 264th anniversary of the birth of Robert (Rabbie) Burns (1759-1796), the Bard of Scotland. Soon after the light fades, attention turns to Burns Night, a supper commemorating his life and work. In 2016 the International Business Times UK edition said this about him:

Burns is one of Scotland's most important literary figures, best known for his famous – and often humorous – songs and poetry. His most recognised works include Auld Lang Syne, which is often sung at Hogmanay on New Year's Eve, and Scots Wha Hae, which has become an unofficial Scottish national anthem.

Burns, commonly known as Rabbie, was born to a poor family in Alloway, Ayr, on 25 January 1759 and began his working life on the family farm. His father hired a local teacher to tutor Burns, who showed signs of having a natural talent for writing from a young age.

As Burns grew older, his passion for Scotland and his contemporary vision played important roles in inspiring the founders of socialism and liberalism. His first work, Poems, Chiefly in the Scottish Dialect – later known as the Kilmarnock Edition – was published in 1786.He also wrote in English and is regarded as a pioneer of the Romantic movement. Burns' poetry drew on references to classical, biblical and English literature, as well as the Scottish Makar tradition – a term from Scottish literature for a poet or bard.

Burns died in Dumfries at the age of 37. Inspired by Scottish history and culture, as well as Scotland's countryside, Burns remains one of the most celebrated figures in the country's history – as demonstrated by the annual Burns Night celebrations.

Here are interpretations of three of Burns's best known poems. The first two are by the late, great Scottish folk singer and educator, Jean Redpath:

There's nought but care on ev'ry han',

In every hour that passes, O

What signifies the life o' man,

An' 'twere na for the lasses, O.

Green grow the rashes, O

Green grow the rashes, O

The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,

Are spent among the lasses, O

The warl'y race may riches chase,

An' riches still may fly them, O

An' tho' at last they catch them fast,

Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.

Green grow the rashes, O

Green grow the rashes, O

The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,

Are spent among the lasses, O

But gie me a cannie hour at e'en,

My arms about my dearie, O,

An' warl'y cares an' war'ly men

May a' gae tapsalteerie, O!

Green grow the rashes, O

Green grow the rashes, O

The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,

Are spent among the lasses, O

For you sae douce, ye sneer at this

Ye're nought but senseless asses, O

The wisest man the warl' e'er saw,

He dearly lov'd the lasses, O.

Green grow the rashes, O

Green grow the rashes, O

The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,

Are spent among the lasses, O

Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears

Her noblest work she classes, O

Her prentice han' she try'd on man,

An' then she made the lasses, O.

Green grow the rashes, O

Green grow the rashes, O

The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,

Are spent among the lasses, O

Cauld is the e'enin blast,

O' Boreus o'er the pool,

An' dawin' it is dreary,

When birks are bare at Yule.

Cauld blaws the e'enin blast,

When bitter bites the frost,

And, in the mirk and dreary drift,

The hills and glens are lost.

Ne'er sae murky blew the night,

That drifted o'er the hill,

But bonie Peg-a-Ramsay

Gat grist in her mill.

Every Burns Night ends with the singing of Auld Lang Syne, a poem written by Burns in 1788 from old song fragments and his own words and set to a Scottish folk melody. This version has the complete and original lyrics.

For everything you ever wanted to know about Robert Burns and Burns Night go here. If you were fortunate enough to attend a Burns Supper tonight we trust you enjoyed the haggis and the extra dram or two of fine single malt whisky to wash it down.

Alba gu brath - Scotland forever

Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
Alexander Reid, miniature portrait, ca, 1795, National Portrait Gallery Scotland

Text:
poems are public domain

The Twelfth - And Last - Day Of Christmas 2024-25 Ends In The Parties Of Twelfth Night

Today is the twelfth and final day of Christmastide or the Twelve Days of Christmas. This day is important among Christians who maintain liturgical traditions: first, it marks the end of a 1500 year-old festival celebrating the birth of Christ, and second, it is the eve of Epiphany. It is also the beginning of the carnival season ending with Mardi Gras and the beginning of Lent. Those who are reluctant to bid Christmas farewell can take heart knowing that some traditions of Christmastide extend through February 2 or Candlemas, the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple. Candlemas occurs on the 40th day of and the end of the liturgical Christmas-Epiphany season. In my home I'll be removing decorations day by day until February 2 when our simple manger scene stands alone in the library awaiting Christmas future.

For some the Twelve Days of Christmas will end with elaborate costumes, masks, feasting, music, dancing, and theater at Twelfth Night festivities where misrule is the only rule. They are indeed topsy-turvy events. Only the Surveyor of Ceremonies will appear without a mask. He will direct the company through a series of games and other activities beginning with the distribution of the Twelfth Cakes. When all the party goers have arrived, each will select a small festival cake or cake slice. Three of those cakes contain a hidden bean or token designating them as the king cake, queen cake and fool cake. The lucky holders of the royal cakes oversee the evening's activities before returning to their normal lives, most likely "below the salt."

Twelfth Night (The King Drinks)           David Teniers, ca 1634

These Twelfth Night traditions have been part of western culture for over a thousand years. Some traditions carry over the night into Epiphany, January 6. This is the case in New Orleans where Twelfth Night parties have been popular for centuries due in part to their role as opening events of the Carnival season.

Twelfth Night festivities in New Orleans in 1884

We trust that you have experienced a wonder-filled Christmas. May you live throughout this new year in the spirit of Twelfth Night, finding joy and happiness in what often seems a disordered world. In the words of William Shakespeare, who had a bit to say about this evening in Twelfth Night, (Act II, Scene 5):

Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
Great or common - What you will!

And speaking of greatness here is music for the season, Johann Sebastian Bach's Magnificat in D Major. The composition was originally written in Leipzig for Christmas 1723 and contained four seasonal hymns. In 1730 the composer revised the work by dropping the four seasonal hymns and changing the key to D Major. The second version is the one most often head today. An English translation in parallel format is available here. This 2000 performance is by the Arnold Shoenberg Choir and the pioneer period instrument ensemble, Concentus Musicus Vienna. Conductor Nikolaus Harnoncourt and his wife founded the ensemble in 1953. 

Hope you're enjoying a serving of Chatham Artillery Punch tonight.

The Ninth Day Of Christmas 2024-25

With New Year's Day and the Eighth Day of Christmas behind us we move on the Ninth Day, a rather quiet time in Christmastide. In the Catholic tradition it is the Feast of Saints Basil the Great and Gregory Nazianzen, Bishops and Doctors of the Church. It is a day to celebrate the virtue of friendship. Christmastide does indeed focus us on the memories of family and friends. Over many years the happenings of this season become riveted in our memories as significant and unforgettable emotional events. In the quiet hours following Christmas Day and the coming of the new year, I sit conversing with the faces in the fire. My thoughts meander over those Christmases past, of friends one time near and dear now lost in time, of family and our traditions in America now reaching their thirteenth generation.

Although German traditions remain strong in our family one of my dearest memories is that of my Welsh bloodline introduced by my grandmother's parents who immigrated to the United States from Cardiff, Wales, in the early 1870's. Although I don't remember my grandmother - she died before my second birthday - my father always reminded me of her Celtic pride and Welsh ancestry expressed especially in a love for song and singing. It wasn't until the 20th century that Wales produced artists singing in English and known internationally. One of them was was the poet, Dylan Thomas, whose compelling recitations approached hypnosis where words became song.

My family likely became aware of Thomas through his trips to the U.S. made over a span of about four years beginning in 1950. His trips always made sensational news for he was not only a rising star worshiped in metropolitan and university salons but also a boisterous character prone to drunkenness and colorful language. Indeed, his trip in 1953 ended in death from pneumonia while in New York. One could say he covered the full spectrum of life and when he spoke of it in verse or prose he made music. I first heard a recording of Thomas reading his work in anelementary school English class sometime in the mid-1950's. I've read and listened to him since then. What follows has been a favorite Thomas story in my family for over sixty years. In that time I read it or portions of it to women I loved, to a few thousand students, and to my children.

When Dylan Thomas brings voice to his work it makes for some of the finest readings in the English language. When he reads A Child's Christmas in Wales it is magic. It is my gift to you in this holy season:

What an extraordinary reading.

To continue our theme of memory and love of friends and family here is the
internationally known Welsh bass-baritone, Bryn Terfel, singing All Through the Night, an ancient lullaby from his homeland. Complete lyrics follow the video.

Sleep my child and peace attend thee,
All through the night
Guardian angels God will send thee,
All through the night
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and dale in slumber sleeping
I my loved ones' watch am keeping,
All through the night

Angels watching, e'er around thee,
All through the night
Midnight slumber close surround thee,
All through the night
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and dale in slumber sleeping
I my loved ones' watch am keeping,
All through the night

While the moon her watch is keeping
All through the night
While the weary world is sleeping
All through the night
O'er thy spirit gently stealing
Visions of delight revealing
Breathes a pure and holy feeling
All through the night

Angels watching ever round thee
All through the night
In thy slumbers close surround thee
All through the night
They will of all fears disarm thee,
No forebodings should alarm thee,
They will let no peril harm thee
All through the night.

Though I roam a minstrel lonely
All through the night
My true harp shall praise sing only
All through the night
Love's young dream, alas, is over
Yet my strains of love shall hover
Near the presence of my lover
All through the night

Hark, a solemn bell is ringing
Clear through the night
Thou, my love, art heavenward winging
Home through the night
Earthly dust from off thee shaken
Soul immortal shalt thou awaken
With thy last dim journey taken
Home through the night





Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
themagpiesfantasy.blogspot.com; photo still from Marvin Lightner production of A Child's Christmas in Wales, 1963.

Text:
catholicculture.org
wikipedia.org

Advent 2024

The word, "advent," comes from the Latin "adventus," meaning "arrival." Today in the western Christian tradition there are two arrivals on the fourth Sunday before Christmas, that of a new church year as well as its first season, Advent. The journey through the season anticipates both the birth of Jesus Christ as the Light of the World, his presence among believers today, and his return at the Last Judgement.

As we enter into the season of Advent today and that of Christmastide beginning December 24 it is time once more to explore almost two thousand years of words, music, and visual arts created for this holy time.

The Descent of Peace                                      William Blake

I give you the end of a gold string.

Only wind it in a ball,

It will lead you to Heaven's gate

built in Jerusalem's wall.

                                        from William Blake's poem, Jerusalem

Today's music is Conditor Alme Siderum (Creator of the Stars of Night), a plainsong dating from the 7th century.

Here is some background on the hymn including its original text and an English translation. For a more detailed exploration of the hymn and its many variations over the past 1500 years, go here.

Winston Churchill: Born On This Day 150 Years Ago

Today is 150th anniversary of the birth of the great British statesman, Winston Churchill. The 19th century American literary icon, Ralph Waldo Emerson, said "there is properly no history, only biography." You'll get some argument about that statement these days. On the other hand, in the last century and a half there is Churchill. I think we would be hard-pressed to find a better illustration of history as biography in that time frame.

Churchill with his son and grandson in 1953

From his Wikipedia entry:

Sir Winston Leonard Spencer-Churchill KG OM CH TD DLFRS RA (30 November 1874 – 24 January 1965) was a British statesman who was the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom from 1940 to 1945 and again from 1951 to 1955. Churchill was also an officer in the British Army, a historian, a superb writer (as Winston S. Churchill), and an artist. He won the Nobel Prize in Literature, and was the first person to be made an honorary citizen of the United States.

The Lion at 10 Downing Street in London, 1940

Churchill in 1895

For more on information on Winston Churchill go here. And, thanks to Steven Hayward at Powerline, here is a teachable moment from the renowned political philosopher, Leo Strauss, on hearing of Churchill's death in 1965. In addition, we cannot forget Churchill as a historian. He was both an extraordinary observer and compelling writer. New readers should start their journey with My Early Life: A Roving Commission, first published in 1930. I have a feeling it will not be their last volume by Churchill.

Churchill was a master of the English language but even he struggled for the right words to both describe the reality his countrymen faced at the hands of Luftwaffe bombers during the the Blitz of 1940 and 1941 as well as rally them to endure what he knew would be their darkest hour:

The whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us. Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this island or lose the war. If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be freed and the life of the world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands. But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new dark age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves, that if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, This was their finest hour.

For seventy years, he served the people of Great Britain and the colonies from the role of soldier to that of statesman. Aside from the monarchy, especially the reign of Elizabeth II, there is arguably no other indivudual in the modern era who personifies England and its people more than Winston Churchill.

Sources


Photos and Illustrations:
public domain photos, Imperial War Museums

C. S. Lewis: Aim At Heaven And You Will Get Earth Thrown In. Aim At Earth And You Get Neither

 

Some day you will be old enough to read fairy tales

                                                                            C.S. Lewis

I was introduced to the mind of C. S. (Clive Staples) Lewis through a gift from a close friend. He gave me a copy of The Four Loves as medication for some conflicting developments in a relationship with Marti, the girl of my dreams at the time. Eventually, Marti revealed her affection for a professor at UNC Chapel Hill. She moved on and I was left with a life-long literary relationship with Lewis and can only trust that Marti found equal tenure with the prof.

C.S. Lewis, one of the last century's leading scholars, novelists, and Christian apologists, was born on this day in 1898. Many readers likely know his name and even more know some of his work - The Screwtape Letters, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Space Trilogy, Mere Christianity, Surprised By Joy - but many may not be familiar with the depth and breadth of his literary accomplishments.

C.S. Lewis                                National Portrait Gallery, London

Immersed the the world of the university scholar where he was a friend and colleague of J. R.R. Tolkein, Lewis enjoyed the community but also appreciated his privacy. For that reason, very few interviews and recordings of the man survive. One tape still with us is a fifteen-minute talk he gave over BBC Radio during a three part series of presentations between 1942 and 1944. The recording reveals the great warmth, friendliness, and integrity of the man.

The talks soon appeared as three separate books shortly after World War II. In 1952, the series was edited into a single book, Mere Christianity. It's now considered a masterpiece in Christian apologetics.

If you cannot enjoy a Lewis book you simply haven't read enough of his work. And there is enough to accommodate readers as his Wikipedia bibliography has almost eighty entries of poetry, fiction, and non-fiction. One or more of those entries will speak to you for a long time.

William Blake: Visions From The Heart

To see a world in a grain of sand

And heaven in a wild flower

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand

And eternity in an hour

                                William Blake

                                from Auguries of Innocence (1803)
                                               

On November 28, 1757, the British artist and writer, William Blake, was born in London. Even after several decades of studying his life and work he continues to make me dream and, for that reason, he remains my favorite anarchist. 

In his own time he was so eccentric his neighbors and friends thought he was a madman. As an engraver and illustrator he was caught between the decline of the guilds and the rise of industrialization. It was a time when men saw the value of their labors swept away from the cottage and into the factory under the watchful eye of the manager. For workers, the loss of autonomy, the shift in control and production, and the helplessness in the face of change led to a revolt against the Age of Reason and a rage against technologies it spawned. Blake was in the forefront of that movement but it would take almost two centuries before he would be recognized as both one whose vision, imagination and sensitivity were unmatched in the age of Romanticism and a truly unique influence in the history of the Western world.

There is one certainty about Blake's work and that is its complexity. He is by far one of the most interesting visionaries to come out of the West and its traditions. I hope you will take time to examine him and his extraordinary contributions to our experience. To explore his work appropriately is beyond the intent of this blog and capability of its author. For readers who want to learn more about Blake, to me there's no finer work available than Jacob Bronowski's A Man Without A Mask, published in 1944, and it's expanded version, William Blake and the Age of Revolution, published in 1972.

William Blake             Thomas Phillips, English, 1807

I have learned much from Blake the artist and philosopher in an effort to find a healthy balance between intellect and emotion. It's been a beautiful, productive, and fascinating journey. These works have been a part of that experience:

In the following illustration, The Ancient of Days, Blake depicts his character, Urizen, [You rising] as reason shaping the world and its experience. This engraving is also interpreted as God the Father - and often God the Son - as divining existence. It is a prime example of the complex and often confounding world of Blake's imagination.

The Ancient of Days                                   William Blake, 1793

In the following engraving Blake depicts Isaac Newton [and the Age of Reason] at the bottom of the sea shaping - the dividers, once more - the world of humankind on the earth. Newton, as a symbol of the Age of Reason and its invention and industrialization, has turned his back on the organic beauty of God's natural world.

Newton                                                    William Blake, 1795

Here, the Angel of Peace descends forcibly out of heaven illustrating God's reason -the dividers - brought into the world in the form of his Son to reconcile Nature (the recline female nude) and a redeemed humanity.

The Descent of Peace                          William Blake, ca. 1815

One of Blake's most familiar pieces is his preface to Milton: A Poem in Two Books. The preface says much about Blake's philosophy opposing the Age of Reason as mbodied in Greek and Roman thought and the dangers a reliance on intellect can bring to a world based equally on emotion. Furthermore, the preface is a perfect illustration of Blake's religious mysticism as well as his veneration of Milton.

The stolen and perverted writings of Homer and Ovid, of Plato and Cicero, which all men ought to contemn, are set up by artifice against the Sublime of the Bible; but when the New Age is at leisure to pronounce, all will be set right, and those grand works of the more ancient, and consciously and professedly Inspired men will hold their proper rank, and the Daughters of Memory shall become the Daughters of Inspiration, Shakspeare and Milton were curb'd by the general malady and infection from the silly Greek and Latin slaves of the sword. Rouse up, O Young Men of the New Age! Set your foreheads against the ignorant hirelings! For we have hirelings in the camp, the Court, and the University, who would, if they could, for ever depress mental, and prolong corporeal war. Painters! on you I call. Sculptors! Architects! suffer not the fashionable fools to depress your powers by the prices they pretend to give for contemptible works, or the expensive advertising boasts that they make of such works; believe Christ and His Apostles that there is a class of men whose whole delight is in destroying. We do not want either Greek or Roman models if we are but just and true to our own Imaginations, those Worlds of Eternity in which we shall live for ever, in Jesus our Lord.

And did those feet in ancient time

Walk upon England's mountains green?

And was the holy lamb of God

On England's pleasant pastures seen?

And did the Countenance Divine

Shine forth upon our clouded hills?

And was Jerusalem builded here

Among these dark Satanic mills.

Bring me my bow of burning gold!

Bring me my arrows of desire!

Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!

Bring me my chariot of fire!

I will not cease from mental fight,

Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,

Till we have built Jerusalem

In England's green and pleasant land.

Would to God that all the Lord's people were Prophets. Numbers xi, ch. 26



Readers may be more familiar with Blake's poem through this medium:

As this tribute comes to a close, I'd like to reference one of Blake's poems that virtually all children read before the end of their middle schools years a half century ago. It's remarkably simple in form yet its questions brim with imagination and wonder. I so hope that The Tyger is still read and heard by young students so they can remember its message over their varied lifetimes.

Tyger, Tyger, burning bright,

In the forests of the night:

What immortal hand or eye,

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies,

Burnt the fire in thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder & what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? What the chain,

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp.

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears

And water'd heaven with their tears:

Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger, Tyger burning bright,

In the forests of the night:

What immortal hand or eye,

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

William Blake                              John Linnell, English, 1863

He who binds himself to a joy

Doth the winged life destroy

But he who kisses the joy as it flies

Lives in Eternity's sunrise

                                William Blake

                                from Eternity, 1803



Sources

Photos and Illustrations:
wikipedia.com
Blake portrait, National Portrait Gallery, Washington, D.C.
Newton, Tate Gallery, London, U.K.blakearchive.org/Blake

Text:
wikipedia.com, Blake entry
blakearchive.org/Blake
bartleby.com/235/284.html
Jacob Bronowski, A Man Without A Mask, Seeker and Warburg, London, 1944

A Day of Deaths Remembered And Forgotten

On November 22, 1963, C. S. Lewis, Aldous Huxley, and John F. Kennedy died in the span of seventy minutes. It is common knowledge that Kennedy died on this day but his death and funeral will forever overshadow the passing of two internationally famous and influential personalities of the 20th century. Although they could hardly come from three more distinct and disparate perspectives, all three of them shared deep concerns about the future of the planet and its inhabitants.

Clive Staples (C. S.) Lewis was one of the last century's leading scholars, novelists, and Christian apologists. Most readers likely know his name, but many may not be familiar with the depth and breadth of his literary accomplishments. From my perspective, if you cannot enjoy a Lewis book you simply haven't read enough of his work. I was introduced to the author through a gift. My best friend gave me a copy of The Four Loves (1960) as medication for some perplexing developments in a relationship with Marti, the girl of my dreams at the time. Eventually, Marti moved on with a professor of English at UNC Chapel Hill. I was left with a life-long literary relationship with Lewis. I trust Marti found the stars in a life of happiness with the prof.

Although Lewis was far from reclusive, he appreciated his privacy. For that reason, we have few interviews and recordings of the man. Fortunately, we do have a portrayal that gives some insight into what made him a beloved writer:

Aldous Huxley shared the life of the mind with Lewis but little else outside of his English background and writing skills. A humanist and lifelong pacifist, Huxley was a prolific writer best known for his novels and essays. Among the novels is Brave New World, a dystopic world view written in 1931 as a parody of utopian novels popular earlier in the century. From a spiritual perspective he was an agnostic who maintained a strong interest in mysticism, universalism. and Vedanta. Later in his life, Huxley would be remembered for his experiments with hallucinogenic drugs and his accounts thereof including, The Door of Perception (1954) and Heaven and Hell (1956). Here he is in a 1958 television interview discussing threats to freedom in the United States:

Both Lewis and Huxley cast long intellectual shadows across the globe while Kennedy's thousand days left us with "a fleeting wisp of glory" that follows us to this day. A random day in November brought them together in death, each worthy of remembrance of who they were, what they did and, in one case, what they could have become.

Lest we forget Lewis, Huxley, and Kennedy.  

 

Dylan Thomas: "...Joy To The Trees And The Stones And The Fish In The Tide..."

Two of the most lyrical writers of the past century were born in this last week of October. The American writer, Pat Conroy, was the subject of a post a few day ago. Today we remember Dylan Thomas (born October 27, 1914), an artist whose work reflected his immersion in the themes and images of living on the coast of his beloved homeland, Wales . His lyrical descriptive writing, poetry and unforgettable voice brought him great fame in the United States in the decade prior to his untimely death in New York in 1953.

Thomas in a London park

Both the writer and his native land have special meaning to me. My great grandparents on my father's side immigrated from Cardiff, Wales, to the United States in the 1870's. Though I never knew my grandmother - she died before my second year - my father often recalled how she took pride in her Celtic roots and the Welsh love for song and singing.

It is interesting that he should remember the talk of song and singing. Many critics and authorities write that Thomas's recitations are spoken words that approach song. Readers can reach their own conclusion by listening to the poet reading Poem in October, his recollections of his thirtieth birthday. Audio quality isn't the best. I suggest earphones and closed eyes for this sound journey.

Poem in October


It was my thirtieth year to heaven
Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood
And the mussel pooled and the heron priested shore
The morning beckoned with water praying and call of seagull and rook
And the knock of sailing boats on the net-webbed wall
Myself to set foot that second
In the still sleeping town and set forth

My birthday began with the water birds
And the birds of the winged trees flying my name
Above the farms and the white horses
And I rose in a rainy autumn
And walked abroad in shower of all my days
High tide and the heron dived
When I took the road over the border
And the gates of the town closed as the town awoke

A springful of larks in a rolling cloud
And the roadside bushes brimming with whistling blackbirds
And the sun of October, summery on the hill's shoulder
Here were fond climates and sweet singers suddenly come in the morning
Where I wandered and listened to the rain wringing wind blow cold
In the wood faraway under me

Pale rain over the dwindling harbour
And over the sea-wet church the size of a snail
With its horns through mist and the castle brown as owls
But all the gardens of spring and summer
Were blooming in the tall tales beyond the border
And under the lark full cloud
There could I marvel my birthday away
But the weather turned around

It turned away from the blithe country
And down the other air and the blue altered sky
Streamed again a wonder of summer
With apples, pears and red currants
And I saw in the turning, so clearly, a child's forgotten mornings
When he walked with his mother through the parables of sunlight
And the legends of the green chapels

And the twice-told fields of infancy
That his tears burned my cheeks, and his heart moved in mine
These were the woods the river and the sea
Where a boy in the listening summertime of the dead
Whispered the truth of his joy to the trees and the stones and the fish in the tide
And the mystery sang alive
Still in the water and singing birds

And there could I marvel my birthday away
But the weather turned around
And the true joy of the long dead child sang burning in the sun
It was my thirtieth Year to heaven stood there then in the summer noon
Though the town below lay leaved with October blood

O may my heart's truth
Still be sung
On this high hill in a year's turning



What an unforgettable voice. I first heard a recording of Thomas reading his work - very likely A Child's Christmas In Wales - sometime in elementary school. There's a good chance few students in any grade have that opportunity today. How unfortunate. We often think education has come a long way over the last seven decades. Perhaps it has, but somewhere on that journey we have undoubtedly lost some very precious cultural experiences. If we could hear Thomas's truth singing every year, we would know so much better who we are as individuals and as a people.

Here is Thomas reciting what is often called his most famous poem, Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, a powerful, emotion-filled villanelle addressing the end of earthly life.

My family likely became aware of Thomas through his trips to the U.S. made over a span of about four years beginning in 1950. The journeys here always made sensational news for he was not only a rising star worshiped in metropolitan and university salons but also a boisterous character prone to drunkenness, colorful language, and wild behavior. Indeed, his trip to New York in 1953 ended in death from pneumonia likely brought on by his well-known excesses. One could say he covered the full spectrum of life and when he spoke of it in verse or prose he made music. It has been a pleasure to experience that music for 70 years.