Strange Power of Speech: Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Literary Possession

Forsideomslag
Oxford University Press, 27. feb. 1992 - 302 sider
This book explores the relationship between tropes of literary property and signification in the writings and literary politics of Wordsworth and Coleridge. Eilenberg argues that a complex of ideas about property, propriety, and possession sets the terms for the two writers' mutually revisionary efforts and informs the images of literary authority, textual identity, and poetic figuration evident in their major works. Eilenberg's readings of the collaboration and its principle texts bring to bear a combination of deconstructive, psychoanalytic, and both new and literary historical methods. The book provides a deeper understanding of the relationship between two of the major figures of English Romanticism as well as fresh insight into what is at stake in the analogy between the verbal and the material or the literary and the economic.

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Indhold

Afterwards Imaginations in Division
137
Conclusion
213
Notes
217
Index
269
Copyright

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Populære passager

Side 179 - Haunted for ever by the eternal Mind, — Mighty Prophet! Seer blest! On whom those truths do rest Which we are toiling all our lives to find, In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave ; Thou, over whom thy Immortality Broods like the day, a master o'er a slave, A Presence which is not to be put by...
Side 62 - What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite : a feeling and a love. That had no need of a remoter charm By thought supplied, or any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Side 171 - I have said that poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity : the emotion is contemplated till, by a species of re-action, the tranquillity gradually disappears, and an emotion, kindred to that which was before the subject of contemplation, is gradually produced, and does itself actually exist in the mind.
Side 52 - Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high; The dead men stood together. All stood together on the deck, For a charnel-dungeon fitter: All fixed on me their stony eyes, That in the Moon did glitter. The pang, the curse, with which they died, Had never passed away: I could not draw my eyes from theirs, Nor turn them up to pray.
Side 90 - IF from the public way you turn your steps Up the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll, You will suppose that with an upright path Your feet must struggle ; in such bold ascent The pastoral Mountains front you, face to face. But, courage ! for around that boisterous Brook The mountains have all opened out themselves, And made a hidden valley of their own.
Side 104 - And with low voice and doleful look These words did say: "In the touch of this bosom there worketh a spell, Which is lord of thy utterance, Christabel...
Side 56 - The upper air burst into life, And a hundred fire-flags sheen To and fro they were hurried about ; And to and fro, and in and out The wan stars danced between. And the coming wind did roar more loud...
Side 131 - Thus Nature spake — The work was done — How soon my Lucy's race was run ! She died, and left to me This heath, this calm, and quiet scene ; The memory of what has been, And never more will be.
Side 33 - The Sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon — ' The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast.

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