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ポーが書評した本 (6) クーパーの『ワイアンドッテ』 (1843) Books Reviewed by Poe (6): _Wyandotté, or the Hutted Knoll_ by James Fenimore Cooper [ポーの書評 Poe's Book Reviews]

ポーは文学書だけじゃなくていろんな本の書評を書きました、けど無論、文学作品の批評も書きました。

Edgar Allan Poe, Review of Wyandotte, or the Hutted Knoll (Graham's Magazine, November 1843)

Wyandotté, or the Hutted Knoll.  A tale, by the author of "The Pathfinder," "Deerslayer," "Last of the Mohicans," "Pioneers," "Prairie," &c., &c.  Philadelphia, Lea & Blanchard.

〔ジェームズ・フェニモア・クーパー著〕 『ワイアンドッテ、またの名、小屋のある丘』 (『先導者』『鹿殺し』『モヒカン族の最後の者』『開拓者たち』『大草原』等々の作者による物語)  フィラデルフィア:ケアリー・リー・アンド・ブランシャード刊〔, 1843. 全2巻, 237pp.+201pp.〕

James_Fenimore_Cooper_Statue(Cooperstown).jpg
Cooper Statue in Cooperstown, New York.  image via Wikipedia <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Fenimore_Cooper>

  クーパー James Fenimore Cooper, 1789-1851 は、チャールズ・ブロックデン・ブラウンやワシントン・アーヴィングに続いて出てきた最初のアメリカの本格的な職業作家で、最初の大作家でした。今日「レザーストッキング・テールズ(皮脚絆物語)Leatherstocking Tales」5部作が最も有名ですけれど、1843年というと、『開拓者たち The Pioneers』(1823)、『モヒカン族の最後の者』(1826)、『大草原 The Prairie』(1827)を三部作的に出してのち十数年を経て、主人公ナッティー・バンポーを生き返らせた(若いころを描いた)『先導者 The Pathfinder』(1840)と『鹿殺し The Deerslayer』(1841)を続けて出して五部作として完結させてまもないころです。扉のページの作者の紹介に挙げられているのがこれら5作品であり、すでにこのころにクーパーが築いていた地位や作家像を想像させるものがあります。

Wyandotte(Philadelphia,1843).jpg

 

 

  けど、ポーは平気でクーパーに対して批判的なことをあちこちで書いたのでした。

  それがなんでなのか、というのはおもしろい問題だし、この書評がなかば語っていることかもしれないけれど、とりあえずおいといて、この書評自体が興味深いのは、つぎの3点くらいかと現在の自分には思われます。

  第一に、のちにマーク・トウェインのエッセイ「フェニモア・クーパーの文学的罪状 Fenimore Cooper's Literary Offenses」が問題にするクーパーのスタイル・文体について実践的に批判しているところ(文章の添削を行なってみせる)。

  第二に、インディアンと黒人の人物造形について語っていること。(「黒人は例外なくみごとに描かれている。しかしながら、インディアンのワイアンドッテはこの本の偉大な主人公で、『開拓者たち』の作者がこれまで創造したインディアンと比べてあらゆる点において遜色がない。いや実際、この「森の紳士」は、小説家が不滅とした他の同類の主人公たちより優れていると我々は考える」 The negroes are, without exception, admirably drawn.  The Indian, Wyandotté, however, is the great feature of the book, and is, in every respect, equal to the previous Indian creations of the author of "The Pioneer."  Indeed, we think this "forest gentleman" superior to the other noted heroes of his kind the heroes which have been immortalized by our novelist.)

  第三に、 ロマンス作家クーパーに即して story とplot の区分 (Cf.  E. M. Forster, Aspects of the Novel [1927]) を徹底してみせると同時に読者の「興味」「関心」(interest)や細部の描写をそれと関連付けて論じること。((A)  [. . .] we give assurance that the story is a good one; for Mr. Cooper has never been known to fail, either in the forest or upon the sea.  The interest, as usual, has no reference to plot, of which, indeed, our novelist seems altogether regardless, or incapable, but depends, first, upon the nature of the theme; secondly, upon a Robinson-Crusoe-like detail in its management; and thirdly, upon the frequently repeated portraiture of the half-civilized Indian.  (B)  It will be at once seen that there is nothing original in this story.  On the contrary, it is even excessively common-place.  The lover, for example, rescued from captivity by the mistress; the Knoll carried through the treachery of an inmate; and the salvation of the besieged, at the very last moment, by a reinforcement arriving, in consequence of a message borne to a friend by one of the besieged, without the cognizance of the others; these, we say, are incidents which have been the common property of every novelist since the invention of letters. And as for plot, there has been no attempt at any thing of the kind.)

  第四に、"popular" ということばを使って、大衆小説ないし通俗小説と芸術性について、自身の営みとおそらく比較・差異化しながら語っているらしいこと。

[. . .] and thus there are two great classes of fictions, ―a popular and widely circulated class, read with pleasure, but without admiration in which the author is lost or forgotten; or remembered, if at all, with something very nearly akin to contempt; and then, a class not so popular, nor so widely diffused, in which, at every paragraph, arises a distinctive and highly pleasurable interest, springing from our perception and appreciation of the skill employed, of the genius evinced in the composition.  After perusal of the one class, we think solely of the book after reading the other, chiefly of the author.  The former class leads to popularity―the latter to fame.  In the former case, the books sometimes live, while the authors usually die; in the latter, even when the works perish, the man survives.  Among American writers of the less generally circulated, but more worthy and more artistical fictions, we may mention Mr. Brockden Brown, Mr. John Neal, Mr. Simms, Mr. Hawthorne; at the head of the more popular division we may place Mr. Cooper.

  (〔・・・・・・〕本はふたつに大別されることになる。・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

  ・・・・・・・・・・・・アメリカの作家であまり読まれていないがもっと読まれてしかるべき芸術的に優れた作品の書き手は、ブロックデン・ブラウン氏、ジョン・ニール氏、シムズ氏、ホーソーン氏であり、もっと通俗的なレヴェルの筆頭に私はクーパー氏を置く。)

  popular というコトバは多義的でよくわからんです。考えてみようっと。

 

 E-text @Internet Archive: Library, University of California, Davis <http://www.archive.org/stream/wyandotte00cooprich#page/n7/mode/2up>

Gutenberg E-text (1871 rpt.) <http://www.gutenberg.org/files/10434/10434-h/10434-h.htm>

Wyandotte(London,1856).jpg
Rpt. London: Routledge, 1856 <http://www.archive.org/stream/wyandotteorhutt00coopgoog#page/n4/mode/2up>

 


 〔2011.1.5朝付記 上の引用部分の訳ができていませんが、下の原文全体にハイパーリンクをはる作業をしました〕

 

[Edgar Allan Poe, Review of Wyandotte, or the Hutted Knoll]

 

Wyandotté, or the Hutted Knoll.  A tale, by the author of "The Pathfinder," "Deerslayer," "Last of the Mohicans," "Pioneers," "Prairie," &c., &c.  Philadelphia, Lea & Blanchard.

Wyandotte, or The Hutted Knoll" is, in its general features, precisely similar to the novels enumerated in the title.  It is a forest subject; and, when we say this, we give assurance that the story is a good one; for Mr. Cooper has never been known to fail, either in the forest or upon the sea.  The interest, as usual, has no reference to plot, of which, indeed, our novelist seems altogether regardless, or incapable, but depends, first, upon the nature of the theme; secondly, upon a Robinson-Crusoe-like detail in its management; and thirdly, upon the frequently repeated portraiture of the half-civilized Indian.  In saying that the interest depends, first, upon the nature of the theme, we mean to suggest that this theme―life in the Wilderness―is one of intrinsic and universal interest, appealing to the heart of man in all phases; a theme, like that of life upon the ocean, so unfailingly omni-prevalent in its power of arresting and absorbing attention, that while success or popularity is, with such a subject, expected as a matter of course, a failure might be properly regarded as conclusive evidence of imbecility on the part of the author.  The two theses in question have been handled usque ad nauseam―and this through the instinctive perception of the universal interest which appertains to them.  A writer, distrustful of his powers, can scarcely do better than discuss either one or the other.  A man of genius will rarely, and should never, undertake either; first, because both are excessively hackneyed; and, secondly, because the reader never fails, in forming his opinion of a book, to make discount, either wittingly or unwittingly, for that intrinsic interest which is inseparable from the subject and independent of the manner in which it is treated.  Very few and very dull indeed are those who do not instantaneously perceive the distinction; and thus there are two great classes of fictions, ―a popular and widely circulated class, read with pleasure, but without admiration in which the author is lost or forgotten; or remembered, if at all, with something very nearly akin to contempt; and then, a class not so popular, nor so widely diffused, in which, at every paragraph, arises a distinctive and highly pleasurable interest, springing from our perception and appreciation of the skill employed, of the genius evinced in the composition.  After perusal of the one class, we think solely of the book after reading the other, chiefly of the author.  The former class leads to popularity―the latter to fame. In the former case, the books sometimes live, while the authors usually die; in the latter, even when the works perish, the man survives.  Among American writers of the less generally circulated, but more worthy and more artistical fictions, we may mention Mr. Brockden Brown, Mr. John Neal, Mr. Simms, Mr. Hawthorne; at the head of the more popular division we may place Mr. Cooper.

"The Hutted Knoll," without pretending to detail facts, gives a narrative of fictitious events, similar, in nearly all respects, to occurrences which actually happened during the opening scenes of the Revolution, and at other epochs of our history.  It pictures the dangers, difficulties, and distresses of a large family, living, completely insulated, in the forest.  The tale commences with a description of the "region which lies in the angle formed by the junction of the Mohawk with the Hudson, extending as far south as the line of Pennsylvania, and west to the verge of that vast rolling plain which composes Western New York"―a region of which the novelist has already frequently written, and the whole of which, with a trivial exception, was a wilderness before the Revolution.  Within this district, and on a creek running into the Unadilla, a certain Captain Willoughby purchases an estate, or "patent," and there retires, with his family and dependents, to pass the close of his life in agricultural pursuits.  He has been an officer in the British army, but, after serving many years, has sold his commission, and purchased one for his only son, Robert, who alone does not accompany the party into the forest.  This party consists of the captain himself; his wife; his daughter, Beulah; an adopted daughter, Maud Meredith; an invalid sergeant, Joyce, who had served under the captain; a Presbyterian preacher, Mr. Woods; a Scotch mason, Jamie Allen; an Irish laborer, Michael O'Hearn; a Connecticut man, Joel Strides; four negroes, Old Plin and Young Plin, Big Smash and Little Smash; eight axe-men; a house-carpenter; a mill-wright, &c., &c.  Besides these, a Tuscarora Indian called Nick, or Wyandotté, accompanies the expedition. This Indian, who figures largely in the story, and gives it its title, may be considered as the principal character―the one chiefly elaborated. He is an outcast from his tribe, has been known to Captain Willoughby for thirty years, and is a compound of all the good and bad qualities which make up the character of the half-civilized Indian.  He does not remain with the settlers; but appears and re-appears at intervals upon the scene.

Nearly the whole of the first volume is occupied with a detailed account of the estate purchased, (which is termed "The Hutted Knoll" from a natural mound upon which the principal house is built) and of the progressive arrangements and improvements.  Toward the close of the volume the Revolution commences; and the party at the "Knoll" are besieged by a band of savages and "rebels," with whom an understanding exists, on the part of Joel Strides, the Yankee.  This traitor, instigated by the hope of possessing Captain Willoughby's estate, should it be confiscated, brings about a series of defections from the party of the settlers, and finally, deserting himself, reduces the whole number to six or seven, capable of bearing arms.  Captain Willoughby resolves, however, to defend his post. His son, at this juncture, pays him a clandestine visit, and, endeavoring to reconnoitre the position of the Indians, is made captive.  The captain, in an attempt at rescue, is murdered by Wyandotté, whose vindictive passions had been aroused by ill-timed allusions, on the part of Willoughby, to floggings previously inflicted, by his orders, upon the Indian.  Wyandotté, however, having satisfied his personal vengeance, is still the ally of the settlers.  He guides Maud, who is beloved by Robert, to the hut in which the latter is confined, and effects his escape. Aroused by this escape, the Indians precipitate their attack upon the Knoll, which, through the previous treachery of Strides in ill-hanging a gate, is immediately carried.  Mrs. Willoughby, Beulah, and others of the party, are killed.  Maud is secreted and thus saved by Wyandotté.  At the last moment, when all is apparently lost, a reinforcement appears, under command of Evert Beekman, the husband of Beulah; and the completion of the massacre is prevented.  Woods, the preacher, had left the Knoll, and made his way through the enemy, to inform Beekman of the dilemma of his friends.  Maud and Robert Willoughby are, of course, happily married.  The concluding scene of the novel shows us Wyandotté repenting the murder of Willoughby, and converted to Christianity through the agency of Woods.

It will be at once seen that there is nothing original in this story.  On the contrary, it is even excessively common-place.  The lover, for example, rescued from captivity by the mistress; the Knoll carried through the treachery of an inmate; and the salvation of the besieged, at the very last moment, by a reinforcement arriving, in consequence of a message borne to a friend by one of the besieged, without the cognizance of the others; these, we say, are incidents which have been the common property of every novelist since the invention of letters. And as for plot, there has been no attempt at any thing of the kind.  The tale is a mere succession of events, scarcely any one of which has any necessary dependence upon any one other.  Plot, however, is, at best, an artificial effect, requiring, like music, not only a natural bias, but long cultivation of taste for its full appreciation; some of the finest narratives in the world―"Gil-Blas" and "Robinson Crusoe," for example―have been written without its employment; and "The Hutted Knoll," like all the sea and forest novels of Cooper, has been made deeply interesting, although depending upon this peculiar source of interest not at all.  Thus the absence of plot can never be critically regarded as a defect; although its judicious use, in all cases aiding and in no case injuring other effects, must be regarded as of a very high order of merit.

There are one or two points, however, in the mere conduct of the story now before us, which may, perhaps, be considered as defective.  For instance, there is too much obviousness in all that appertains to the hanging of the large gate.  In more than a dozen instances, Mrs. Willoughby is made to allude to the delay in the hanging; so that the reader is too positively and pointedly forced to perceive that this delay is to result in the capture of the Knoll.  As we are never in doubt of the fact, we feel diminished interest when it actually happens.  A single vague allusion, well-managed, would have been in the true artistical spirit.

Again; we see too plainly, from the first, that Beekman is to marry Beulah, and that Robert Willoughby is to marry Maud.  The killing of Beulah, of Mrs. Willoughby, and Jamie Allen, produces, too, a painful impression which does not properly appertain to the right fiction.  Their deaths affect us as revolting and supererogatory; since the purposes of the story are not thereby furthered in any regard.  To Willoughby's murder, however distressing, the reader makes no similar objection; merely because in his decease is fulfilled a species of poetical justice.  We may observe here, nevertheless, that his repeated references to his flogging the Indian seem unnatural, because we have otherwise no reason to think him a fool, or a madman, and these references, under the circumstances, are absolutely insensate.  We object, also, to the manner in which the general interest is dragged out, or suspended.  The besieging party are kept before the Knoll so long, while so little is done, and so many opportunities of action are lost, that the reader takes it for granted that nothing of consequence will occur―that the besieged will be finally delivered.  He gets so accustomed to the presence of danger that its excitement, at length, departs.  The action is not sufficiently rapid.  There is too much procrastination.  There is too much mere talk for talk's sake. The interminable discussions between Woods and Captain Willoughby are, perhaps, the worst feature of the book, for they have not even the merit of referring to the matters on hand.  In general, there is quite too much colloquy for the purpose of manifesting character, and too little for the explanation of motive.  The characters of the drama would have been better made out by action; while the motives to action, the reasons for the different courses of conduct adopted by the dramatis personÆ, might have been made to proceed more satisfactorily from their own mouths, in casual conversations, than from that of the author in person.  To conclude our remarks upon the head of ill-conduct in the story, we may mention occasional incidents of the merest melodramatic absurdity: as, for example, at page 156, of the second volume, where "Willoughby had an arm round the waist of Maud, and bore her forward with a rapidity to which her own strength was entirely unequal."  We may be permitted to doubt whether a young lady of sound health and limbs, exists, within the limits of Christendom, who could not run faster, on her own proper feet, for any considerable distance, than she could be carried upon one arm of either the Cretan Milo or of the Hercules Farnese.

On the other hand, it would be easy to designate many particulars which are admirably handled. The love of Maud Meredith for Robert Willoughby is painted with exquisite skill and truth.  The incident of the tress of hair and box is naturally and effectively conceived.  A fine collateral interest is thrown over the whole narrative by the connection of the theme with that of the Revolution; and, especially, there is an excellent dramatic point, at page 124 of the second volume, where Wyandotté, remembering the stripes inflicted upon him by Captain Willoughby, is about to betray him to his foes, when his purpose is arrested by a casual glimpse, through the forest, of the hut which contains Mrs. Willoughby, who had preserved the life of the Indian, by inoculation for the small-pox.

In the depicting of character, Mr. Cooper has been unusually successful in "Wyandotté."  One or two of his personages, to be sure, must be regarded as little worth.  Robert Willoughby, like most novel heroes, is a nobody; that is to say, there is nothing about him which may be looked upon as distinctive.  Perhaps he is rather silly than otherwise; as, for instance, when he confuses all his father's arrangements for his concealment, and bursts into the room before Strides afterward insisting upon accompanying that person to the Indian encampment, without any possible or impossible object.  Woods, the parson, is a sad bore, upon the Dominie Sampson plan, and is, moreover, caricatured.  Of Captain Willoughby we have already spoken―he is too often on stilts. Evert Beekman and Beulah are merely episodical. Joyce is nothing in the world but Corporal Trim―or, rather, Corporal Trim and water.  Jamie Allen, with his prate about Catholicism, is insufferable.  But Mrs. Willoughby, the humble, shrinking, womanly wife, whose whole existence centres in her affections, is worthy of Mr. Cooper.  Maud Meredith is still better.  In fact, we know no female portraiture, even in Scott, which surpasses her; and yet the world has been given to understand, by the enemies of the novelist, that he is incapable of depicting a woman.  Joel Strides will be recognized by all who are conversant with his general prototypes of Connecticut.  Michael O'Hearn, the County Leitrim man, is an Irishman all over, and his portraiture abounds in humor; as, for example, at page 31, of the first volume, where he has a difficulty with a skiff, not being able to account for its revolving upon its own axis, instead of moving forward! or, at page 132, where, during divine service, to exclude at least a portion of the heretical doctrine, he stops one of his ears with his thumb; or, at page 195, where a passage occurs so much to our purpose that we will be pardoned for quoting it in full.  Captain Willoughby is drawing his son up through a window, from his enemies below.  The assistants, placed at a distance from this window to avoid observation from without, are ignorant of what burthen is at the end of the rope:

"The men did as ordered, raising their load from the ground a foot or two at a time.  In this manner the burthen approached, yard after yard, until it was evidently drawing near the window.

" 'It's the captain hoisting up the big baste of a hog, for provisioning the hoose again a saige,' whispered Mike to the negroes, who grinned as they tugged; 'and, when the craitur squails, see to it, that ye do not squail yourselves.'

"At that moment, the head and shoulders of a man appeared at the window.  Mike let go the rope, seized a chair, and was about to knock the intruder upon the head; but the captain arrested the blow.

" 'It's one o' the vagabone Injins that has undermined the hog and come up in its stead,' roared Mike.

" 'It's my son,' said the captain; 'see that you are silent and secret.' "

The negroes are, without exception, admirably drawn.  The Indian, Wyandotté, however, is the great feature of the book, and is, in every respect, equal to the previous Indian creations of the author of "The Pioneer."  Indeed, we think this "forest gentleman" superior to the other noted heroes of his kind the heroes which have been immortalized by our novelist.  His keen sense of the distinction, in his own character, between the chief, Wyandotté, and the drunken vagabond, Sassy Nick; his chivalrous delicacy toward Maud, in never disclosing to her that knowledge of her real feelings toward Robert Willoughby, which his own Indian intuition had discovered; his enduring animosity toward Captain Willoughby, softened, and for thirty years delayed, through his gratitude to the wife; and then, the vengeance consummated, his pity for that wife conflicting with his exultation at the deed―these, we say, are all traits of a lofty excellence indeed.  Perhaps the most effective passage in the book, and that which, most distinctively, brings out the character of the Tuscarora, is to be found at pages 50, 51, 52 and 53 of the second volume, where, for some trivial misdemeanor, the captain threatens to make use of the whip.  The manner in which the Indian harps upon the threat, returning to it again and again, in every variety of phrase, forms one of the finest pieces of mere character-painting with which we have any acquaintance.

The most obvious and most unaccountable faults of "The Hutted Knoll," are those which appertain to the style―to the mere grammatical construction; ―for, in other and more important particulars of style, Mr. Cooper, of late days, has made a very manifest improvement.  His sentences, however, are arranged with an awkwardness so remarkable as to be matter of absolute astonishment, when we consider the education of the author, and his long and continual practice with the pen.  In minute descriptions of localities, any verbal inaccuracy, or confusion, becomes a source of vexation and misunderstanding, detracting very much from the pleasure of perusal; and in these inaccuracies "Wyandotté" abounds.  Although, for instance, we carefully read and re-read that portion of the narrative which details the situation of the Knoll, and the construction of the buildings and walls about it, we were forced to proceed with the story without any exact or definite impressions upon the subject.  Similar difficulties, from similar causes, occur passim throughout the book. For example: at page 41, vol. I:

"The Indian gazed at the house, with that fierce intentness which sometimes glared, in a manner that had got to be, in its ordinary aspects, dull and besotted."  This it is utterly impossible to comprehend.  We presume, however, the intention is to say that although the Indian's ordinary manner (of gazing) had "got to be" dull and besotted, he occasionally gazed with an intentness that glared, and that he did so in the instance in question.  The "got to be" is atrocious―the whole sentence no less so.

Here, at page 9, vol. I., is something excessively vague: "Of the latter character is the face of most of that region which lies in the angle formed by the junction of the Mohawk with the Hudson," &c. &c.  The Mohawk, joining the Hudson, forms two angles, of course, ―an acute and an obtuse one; and, without farther explanation, it is difficult to say which is intended.

At page 55, vol. I., we read: ―"The captain, owing to his English education, had avoided straight lines, and formal paths; giving to the little spot the improvement on nature which is a consequence of embellishing her works without destroying them.  On each side of this lawn was an orchard, thrifty and young, and which were already beginning to show signs of putting forth their blossoms."  Here we are tautologically informed that improvement is a consequence of embellishment, and supererogatorily told that the rule holds good only where the embellishment is not accompanied by destruction.  Upon the "each orchard were" it is needless to comment.

At page 30, vol. I., is something similar, where Strides is represented as "never doing any thing that required a particle more than the exertion and strength that were absolutely necessary to effect his object."  Did Mr. C. ever hear of any labor that required more exertion than was necessary?  He means to say that Strides exerted himself no farther than was necessary―that's all.

At page 59, vol. I., we find this sentence―"He was advancing by the only road that was ever traveled by the stranger as he approached the Hut; or, he came up the valley."  This is merely a vagueness of speech.  "Or" is intended to imply "that is to say."  The whole would be clearer thus―"He was advancing by the valley―the only road traveled by a stranger approaching the Hut."  We have here sixteen words, instead of Mr. Cooper's twenty-five.

At page 8, vol. II., is an unpardonable awkwardness, although an awkwardness strictly grammatical.  "I was a favorite, I believe, with, certainly was much petted by, both."  Upon this we need make no farther observation.  It speaks for itself.

We are aware, however, that there is a certain air of unfairness, in thus quoting detached passages, for animadversion of this kind; for, however strictly at random our quotations may really be, we have, of course, no means of proving the fact to our readers; and there are no authors, from whose works individual inaccurate sentences may not be culled.  But we mean to say that Mr. Cooper, no doubt through haste or neglect, is remarkably and especially inaccurate, as a general rule; and, by way of demonstrating this assertion, we will dismiss our extracts at random, and discuss some entire page of his composition.  More than this: we will endeavor to select that particular page upon which it might naturally be supposed he would bestow the most careful attention.  The reader will say at once―"Let this be his first page―the first page of his Preface."  This page, then, shall be taken of course.

"The history of the borders is filled with legends of the sufferings of isolated families, during the troubled scenes of colonial warfare.  Those which we now offer to the reader, are distinctive in many of their leading facts, if not rigidly true in the details.  The first alone is necessary to the legitimate objects of fiction."

"Abounds with legends," would be better than "is filled with legends;" for it is clear that if the history were filled with legends, it would be all legend and no history.  The word "of," too, occurs, in the first sentence, with an unpleasant frequency.  The "those" commencing the second sentence, grammatically refers to the noun "scenes," immediately preceding, but is intended for "legends."  The adjective "distinctive" is vaguely and altogether improperly employed.  Mr. C. we believe means to say, merely, that although the details of his legends may not be strictly true, facts similar to his leading ones have actually occurred.  By use of the word "distinctive," however, he has contrived to convey a meaning nearly converse.  In saying that his legend is " distinctive" in many of the leading facts, he has said what he, clearly, did not wish to say―viz.: that his legend contained facts which distinguished it from all other legends―in other words, facts never before discussed in other legends, and belonging peculiarly to his own.  That Mr. C. did mean what we suppose, is rendered evident by the third sentence―"The first alone is necessary to the legitimate objects of fiction."  This third sentence itself, however, is very badly constructed.  "The first" can refer, grammatically, only to "facts;" but no such reference is intended.  If we ask the question―what is meant by "the first?"―what "alone is necessary to the legitimate objects of fiction?" ―the natural reply is, "that facts similar to the leading ones have actually happened."  This circumstance is alone to be cared for―this consideration "alone is necessary to the legitimate objects of fiction."

"One of the misfortunes of a nation is to hear nothing besides its own praises."  This is the fourth sentence, and is by no means lucid.  The design is to say that individuals composing a nation, and living altogether within the national bounds, hear from each other only praises of the nation, and that this is a misfortune to the individuals, since it mis-leads them in regard to the actual condition of the nation.  Here it will be seen that, to convey the intended idea, we have been forced to make distinction between the nation and its individual members; for it is evident that a nation is considered as such only in reference to other nations; and thus, as a nation, it hears very much "besides its own praises;" that is to say, it hears the detractions of other rival nations.  In endeavoring to compel his meaning within the compass of a brief sentence, Mr. Cooper has completely sacrificed its intelligibility.

The fifth sentence runs thus: ―"Although the American Revolution was probably as just an effort as was ever made by a people to resist the first inroads of oppression, the cause had its evil aspects, as well as all other human struggles."

The American Revolution is here improperly called an "effort." The effort was the cause, of which the Revolution was the result.  A rebellion is an "effort" to effect a revolution.  An "inroad of oppression" involves an untrue metaphor; for "inroad" appertains to aggression, to attack, to active assault.  "The cause had its evil aspects, as well as all other human struggles," implies that the cause had not only its evil aspects, but had, also, all other human struggles.  If the words must be retained at all, they should be thus arranged―"The cause like [or as well as] all other human struggles, had its evil aspects;" or better thus―"The cause had its evil aspect, as have all human struggles."  "Other" is superfluous.

The sixth sentence is thus written: ―"We have been so much accustomed to hear every thing extolled, of late years, that could be dragged into the remotest connection with that great event, and the principles which led to it, that there is danger of overlooking truth in a pseudo patriotism." The "of late years," here, should follow the "accustomed," or precede the "We have been;" and the Greek "pseudo" is objectionable, since its exact equivalent is to be found in the English "false."  "Spurious" would be better, perhaps, than either.

Inadvertences such as these sadly disfigure the style of "The Hutted Knoll;" and every true friend of its author must regret his inattention to the minor morals of the Muse.  But these "minor morals," it may be said, are trifles at best.  Perhaps so.  At all events, we should never have thought of dwelling so pertinaciously upon the unessential demerits of "Wyandotté," could we have discovered any more momentous upon which to comment.  [Graham's Magazine (November 1843)]

wyandotte00cooprich_0011.jpg

 


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ストーリーとプロットの区分 Story vs. Plot [φ(..)メモメモ]

ひとつ前の記事「ポーが書評した本 (6) クーパーの『ワイアンドッテ』 (1843)」で「story とplot の区分 (Cf.  E. M. Forster, Aspects of the Novel [1927]) 」云々と書いたので、参照用のメモ記事を書いておきます。

  死後『モーリス』で学界的には衝撃を与え、日本では(その映画化を契機として)ジュネ系女子に認知・(小説が)愛読されることになったイギリスの小説家E・M・フォースター E. M. Forster,1879-1970 の、かつてダヴィッド社から翻訳も出ていた『小説の諸相 Aspects of the Novel』は、ケンブリッジ大学における連続講義をもとにした小説論で、たしか1980年前後に増補版が出たと思うのですけど、Webで読めるE-textは・・・・・・ないですね。 フォースターより後に生まれたD・H・ロレンスやT・E・ロレンス(アラビアのロレンス)が40歳代で若死にしたのに比べて、フォースターは90まで生きて文字通り文壇の長老となったのでした(それだから、なおさら同性愛のショックは大きかった)。

  と、話が明後日の方向へ方向へと向かいかねないので、メモ( ..)φメモメモっと。

ストーリーの定義〕[N]ow the story can be defined.  It is a narrative of events arranged in their time sequencedinner coming after breakfast, Tuesday after Monday, decay after death, and so on.  Qua story, it can only have one merit: that of making the audience want to know what happens next.  And conversely it can only have one fault: that of making the audience not want to know what happens next. [. . .](時間順序に配列された出来事の物語narrative。次は何?という好奇心をドライヴとする、古くからある物語の相)

 

〔プロットの定義〕Let us define a plot.  We have defined a story as a narrative of events arranged in their time-sequence.  A plot is also a narrative of events, the emphasis falling on causality.  ‘The king died and then the queen died,’ is a story.  ‘The king died, and then the queen died of grief’, is a plot.(出来事の物語だけれど、因果関係に強調が置かれる)

(E. M. Forster, Aspects of the Novel [1927], 82-83)

 

   フォースターは、センテンスのレヴェルでストーリーとプロットの原型を例示しています。――

 

The king died and the queen died.  story

         The king died, and then the queen died of grief.  plot

The queen died, no one knew why, until it was discovered that it was through grief at the death of the king.  “plot with a mystery in it”

 

   三番目のものは、ミステリーを含んだプロットで、高度の発展の可能性があるとかなんとかフォースターは書いていたはずです。―― "The king died and the queen died," is a story. "The king died and the the queen died of grief," is a plot. The time-sequence is preserved, but the sense of causality overshadows it. Or again: "The queen died, no one knew why, until it was discovered that it was through grief at the death of the king." This is a plot with a mystery in it, a form capable of high development. It suspends the time-sequence, it moves as far away from the story as its limitations will allow." 時間順序を宙づりにし、ストーリーの制約から可能な限りストーリーから離れている、と。

  たまたま検索していて見つけたのは、山梨大学の仏文の先生の森田秀二さんというひとの物語論のページで、探偵小説との関係でフォースターを引いているのでした。――

「探偵物語とは何か?:推理の物語から捜査の物語へ」 『物語の世界 Page de Chou』 <http://www.ccn.yamanashi.ac.jp/~morita/Culture/detective/index.html>

  上の三つの基本文を説明したあと、さらに四つ目の、探偵小説の原型的文を考案します。――

探偵物語(Whodunit)もミステリー風味の plot の一種と考えられますが、心理的因果性(Why?)ばかりでなく物理的因果性(How?)に注目し、特に「犯人は誰か」(Who?)という謎を原動力とする装置と考えることができます。フォスターを敷衍するならば次のような文を考えればよいでしょう。

The queen died, it was believed that it was through grief at the death of the king, until it was discovered that she had been poisoned by X.
「女王の死ははじめは王の逝去による心労のためとされたが、(探偵により)死因が毒殺であることが特定され、その犯人Xもやがて判明した。」

 

  英文法的には最初のカンマは comma fault となるので、つぎのように書くべきではないかとw

   ④The queen died, and it was believed that it was through grief at the death of the king, until it was discovered that she had been poisoned by X [e.g. the minister」. (王妃が死んで、それは王の死に対する悲しみのあまりと信じられたが、その後、大臣によって毒殺されたのだということがわかった。)

/////////////////////////////////////////////

Glossary of  Basis Literary Terms qv. plot, story <http://members.fortunecity.es/fabianvillegas/drama/glossary.htm>  〔plot はあるけど、story はいまのところ? ないのでした。音楽ウルサイ〕

 


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サイレント映画『アッシャー家の崩壊』 (1928) The Fall of the House of Usher (1928) [ポー Edgar Allan Poe]

1928年、フランスのJean Epstein のサイレントと同年に発表された、アメリカのJames Sibley Watson, 1894-1982 の短い白黒サイレント映画。

 

The Fall of the House of Usher: A Film Version of Poe's Story.  By Melville Webber and J. S. Watson, Jr.  (1928)

Roderick Usher . . . . . . Herbert Stern
Madeline Usher . . . . Hildegarde Watson
A traveller . . . . . . . . . Melville Webber

エリック・サティ―っぽいピアノで始まる(でも音楽は第二次大戦後戦後に友人のAlec Wilder によって付けられたみたい)。ドイツ表現主義の映画に未来派や抽象主義写真、さらに詩人のe.e.cummings (カミングズとワトソンは大学以来の友人でした)を思い出させるようなタイプライター的タイポグラフィカルな文字の氾濫、がごちゃまぜになったようなモダンな映画。

//////////////////////////////

"The Fall of the House of Usher (1928 American film)," Wikipedia <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fall_of_the_House_of_Usher_(1928_American_film)>

"James Sibley Watson," Wikipedia <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Sibley_Watson>

"FallOfTheHouseOfUsher1928shot.ogv. <http://ia700300.us.archive.org/5/items/FallOfTheHouseOfUsher1928short/FallOfTheHouseOfUsher1928short.ogv>

"Fall of the House of Usher : James Sibley Watson"  @Internet Archive <http://www.archive.org/details/FallOfTheHouseOfUsher1928short>

 


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「かわいそうなあしながおじさん」 "Poor Daddy Long-Legs" (1885) [Daddy-Long-Legs]

“POOR DADDY LONG-LEGS”   By L. [E.] C. 

  1885年にアイルランドのダブリンで刊行された短篇小説集の表題作で冒頭の作品。

  でも表紙とタイトルページ以外は、目次でも本文でも "Daddy Long-Legs" なのでした。

 

poordaddylongle00longgoog_0014.jpg
目次

PoorDaddyLong-Legs,op.JPG
本文第1ページ (p. 3)

 

PoorDaddyLong-Legs-titlepage.jpg
タイトルページ

  本のタイトルは、 "Poor Daddy Long-Legs and Other Stories" です。

 

PoorDaddyLong-Legs.jpg
表紙

 

  表紙には、さらに副題として "OR A PEEP INTO FAIRYLAND" と右下に書かれています。 「妖精の国管見」みたいな意味。これが"Poor Daddy Long-Legs" に関わることは確かで、「あしながおじさん」と村の子供たちにあだ名されているおじさんが妖精の国に行って、気づくと自分の部屋に戻ってくるのですが、誰も信じてくれず、雪の中、証拠を探しに出かけて・・・・・・という話なのです。さらに、表紙には L. C. ではなくて L. E. C. とミドルネームのイニシャルE も入っていたりします。本は娘ふたりにdedicate されているのですけど、この L. C. さんが誰なのかは不詳です。

  Internet Archive に入っています(ただし、Read Online だと挿絵も表紙もないです――ハックルベリー・フィンと同じGoogle Books の特徴?)―― <http://www.archive.org/stream/poordaddylongle00longgoog>

 

 

  冒頭で、この男がなぜ "Daddy Long-Legs" と呼ばれたかが説明されています。――

Once upon a time (all good stories you know begin in this way, and as this is going to be a good story it must begin in the proper way) — well, once upon a time, a great many years ago, before you or I were born, there lived in a certain village a very tall man, who was called by all the little people round him Daddy Long-Legs, and by-and-by the neighbours became so accustomed to hearing the children call him this, that they forgot he ever had any other name, and so, as he was always called Daddy Long-Legs by every one, we may as well call him so too.  He was seven feet high, and quite thin; his legs were so long, and his arms were so long, and his body was so lank, that he really looked like the insect whose name he bore, especially as, when he walked about, he used to twist and twirl his arms in all directions; indeed I believe he occasionally imagined that they were wings, and that he was flying! — for this long man was not quite as wise as most of the world, not even as wise as the little folk in the village where he lived.

むかしむかし(良い物語はすべてこういうふうに始まるもので、この話もよい話になるので正しい始まりかたをしなければなりません)――そう、むかしむかし、あなたやわたしが生まれる何年も何年も前のこと、ある村にとても背の高い男が住んでいました。まわりの子供たちみんなからダディー・ロングレッグズと呼ばれましたが、やがて近隣の人々は子供たちが彼をこのように呼ぶのに聞きなれて、彼に別の名前があるということを忘れてしまい、いつも、誰からもダディー・ロングレッグズと呼ばれるようになりました。それでわたしたちも彼をそう呼んでよいでしょう。彼は7フィートの背で、とても痩せていました。脚はとても長くて、腕もとても長くて、体はひょろっとしていたので、まさしくその名の昆虫のように見えました。とりわけ、彼が歩き回るとき、両腕をいろんな方向に曲げたりねじったりするときはそっくりでした。彼はときおり自分の両腕が羽で、自分が飛んでいると想像したのではないかと思います――というのも、このひょろひょろの男は世間のたいていのひとほど賢くはなく、彼が住んでいた村の子供たちほどにも賢くはなかったのです。

  この記述と、表紙の、羽の生えたムシの絵は、アイルランドの "daddy long-legs" が、イギリスと同じく、昆虫のカガンボ(ガガンボ)であったことを物語っています。 エドワード・リアのノンセンス詩について1年前に書いた「アシナガオジサンとハエ The Daddy Long-legs and the Fly」と同じです。

 

draft_lens3892922module25766252photo_12390833875-350000.gif

 

Poor Daddy Long-Legs[: or A Peep into the Fairy Land] and Other Stories  by L. C.  (Dubllin: Hodges, Figgis, & Co., 1885]  79pp.   3-17]

 

 

                      Poor Daddy Long-Legs   

      
 
ONCE upon a time (all good stories you know begin in this way, and as this is going to be a good story it must begin in the proper way) — well, once upon a time, a great many years ago, before you or I were born, there lived in a certain village a very tall man, who was called by all the little people round him Daddy Long-Legs, and by-and-by the neighbours became so accustomed to hearing the children call him this, that they forgot he ever had any other name, and so, as he was always called Daddy Long-Legs by every one, we may as well call him so too.  He was seven feet high, and quite thin; his legs were so long, and his arms were so long, and his body was so lank, that he really looked like the insect whose name he bore, especially as, when he walked about, he used to twist and twirl his arms in all directions; indeed I believe he occasionally imagined that they were wings, and that he was flying I— for this long man was not quite as wise as most of the world, not even as wise as the little folk in the village where he lived.  Some people thought his body had grown so much when he was a lad that his wits had had no time to grow; I don’t know whether this was the case or not; and anyhow it does not make much difference now, does it?  Well! — one cold night in winter, when all the children were snugly tucked up in their warm beds (and very glad to be there, for the snow was lying thickly on the ground, and every now and then more flakes dropped down silently and softly from the dark sky), Daddy Long-Legs sat dozing over a bright wood fire in his little cottage.  The door was shut and locked, the one little window was closed and the shutter fastened, and poor Daddy was taking a little sleep over the cheery fire before going to his bed in the corner of the room. Suddenly he started with a shiver and a feeling of a biting cold blast in the room; he opened his eyes, and there, opposite him, sitting on a three-legged wooden stool, was a little old man; very old, very ugly, and covered with snow, which the fire was gradually melting, causing him to look even wetter and drearier than before.  Daddy stared at him; then he rubbed his eyes and stared harder; finally he said, in rather a shaky voice — for it must be confessed he was just a little frightened — “Who are you?”
 
The old man nodded and nodded, but said never a word.
 
“Where did you come from?” whispered Daddy.
 
“Fairy-Land,” squeaked the little man, in a strange high voice.
 
“Where?”
 
“Fairy-Land,” he repeated, rather pettishly this time, for he did not like having to say the same thing twice.
 
“I don’t believe you,” said Daddy; “there’s no such place.”
 
“You are very rude — you know nothing about it — you know nothing about anything,” squeaked the little man, frowning violently.
 
“You shouldn’t tell fibs, I know that,” snapped Daddy; “and besides, fairies are supposed to be pretty, and you.”
 
“Hold your tongue, you great lumbering lout,” shouted the little man very angrily, rising as he spoke, and shaking off the last few snow-flakes as he did so, for they had nearly all melted with the heat of the fire.  “Unbeliever that you are, you shall see; come along, come along.”
 
And in some odd, unaccountable way, Daddy felt obliged to get up and follow.  He did not want to leave his nice bright fire and his comfortable bed, but he could not help himself.  He had to go, just as he was, without even a hat on his poor bare head, out into the cold night; and it seemed to him singular — to say the least of it — that the door opened of itself, and shut behind them quite silently.
 
Down through the empty street the pair went, and very odd they looked — one so tall, the other so small; but there was no one there to see them, so it didn’t much signify how they looked, and moreover they went so quickly, it was more like a gust of wind passing by than two men.  Out of the village, across the deserted snow-covered fields, on they went; on to the foot of a high hill, up which Daddy had gone many a time, little thinking that he should one day, or rather one night, go inside it.  But go inside it he did; for the old man walked through the side as though it were an open door, and Daddy followed him.
 
It was very dark outside in the night, but it was quite light inside the hill, as bright as if a thousand lamps were lighted; but there was not one to be seen, no, nor even a candle.  Daddy thought it was all very wonderful; and though he felt frightened enough, yet he was obliged to do exactly as his little guide wished, for the very good reason that he could not help himself.  He had lost all power of will; and though he could not help thinking he ought to be able to crush that little man, in point of fact he wasn’t able so much as to put out a hand to stop him.
 
On they went, down ever so many flights of steps and along numberless passages, all equally lighted, the little old man never even turning his head to look after Daddy, but gliding on without pause or falter until he arrived at a glass door.  Against this he tapped twice, and immediately it flew open, and he and Daddy passed through into a most wonderful hall.  The floor was all shining as if it were made of chased silver; the walls were of crystal, cut like the drops of a glass chandelier, so that they showed every hue, and flashed light and colour in all directions.
 
The ceiling looked as if it were made of the sky — dark, blue, fathomless; and thickly strewn over it were diamond stars, so bright, so luminous, that they served to render the whole hall as brilliant as though the sun, moon, and stars were all shining and sparkling together in it.  And it was the largest room Daddy had ever seen; or any one else, as far as that goes.  There were fountains of coloured gems tossing jets of melted rainbow; there were trees and flowers more lovely than could be imagined; pictures, gleaming statues, vases of most exquisite beauty, chairs and couches of gold and ivory draped in lustrous silks and richest velvets.  Down the centre was a long table covered with the daintiest dishes, splendid fruit, and the most perfect glass and china.  All that a much more enlarged mind than poor Daddy possessed could conceive was there, and more than that.
 
Perfect beauty reigned everywhere, but perfect silence as well.  There was not a soul to be seen.
 
Certainly this is Fairy-Land, thought Daddy, as he looked over the whole scene; and even as the thought entered his mind, the old man turned for the first time and said triumphantly, “Now I.”
 
Daddy blushed; he knew quite well what the other meant, and immediately began to apologise.  “I beg your pardon.  Sir, I am sure”
 
“There I there, that will do, don’t bother; you are only a man!”
 
The tone of this last sentence somehow made Daddy feel very hot and angry; for after all he was young, and though he had not much brains he had plenty of feeling, and it annoyed him to be made so little of.  However, he thought it best to say nothing, and the other went on, “This is a part of my Palace.  I am King Irascible, and the reason I have brought you here is this — I and my two brothers, Kings Sobersides and Flatterer, are all in love with the same lady, the Princess Honoria, daughter of a neighbouring king, and she has sworn to give her hand to whichever of us shall show her the tallest man.  Why she hit upon such an idea I can’t say, the whims of females are not to be accounted for; however, at twelve o’clock to-night we are all to meet here with our findings, and the hand of the Princess is to reward the winner.  I flatter myself I have succeeded pretty well.”  With that he contemplated the tall proportions of the man beside him, and nodded his head several times in a satisfied way.  With the last nod an invisible clock began to strike XII, and at the same moment various crystal doors opened, and processions of diminutive people, gorgeously dressed, walked in and up to the upper end of the hall, where, on a raised daïs, was a golden chair inlaid with rare jewels and cushioned with sapphire velvet.”
 
”Make way for the Princess,” was heard on all sides, and little men with white wands kept running about pushing the people into their places.  Presently all were settled, and then there sounded a blast of trumpets — another — and another; then faint cheers, growing louder and nearer each moment; finally a great hush.
 
Up through the long room came a lady, taller than any one else excepting Daddy (who was hiding nervously behind a crystal pillar).  She was robed in silvered satin encrusted with rubies; a train of turquoise blue, embroidered with seed pearls, was fastened to the shoulders with large single diamonds; diamonds and rubies sparkled on head, neck, and arms; and yet, with all this magnificence.  Daddy’s eyes, after the first quick glance, went up to her face, and rested there.
 
Of all the wonderful and beautiful things around, this face was the most wonderful and the most beautiful, and he did not feel surprised the three kings were all in love with her.
 
She walked composedly to the gold chair and took her seat, her train-bearers, six lovely girls, standing on either side of her, and then she spoke.
 
“Have their Majesties arrived?”
 
Out stepped King Irascible, followed by Daddy Long-Legs, and both bowed to the ground.
 
“Ahem! a tall man, certainly a very tall man!  I admire you immensely,” she continued, turning to Daddy with a beautiful smile; and the poor foolish fellow yielded up his heart to her at once.
 
“O, madam,” he said, “you are too good.”
 
“You see, Sir,” she replied, “I have had the great misfortune: to be born taller than any one else in these lands, and I get so tired of looking down upon everyone, that I determined I would see some one I could look up to before settling myself for life; and so, as these three beings were all fighting for my favour, I let it be understood that I would marry whichever of them should bring me the tallest man to be my slave and train-bearer — perhaps even my friend,” she said in a lower, softer key, glancing again at Daddy.
  
“When I’m your husband, I’ll take care you don’t look down on me,” snapped King Irascible.
 
“Why I do you intend to go on stilts?” said she.
 
“Yes, if I like, and make you feel them too,” he growled.
 
“First catch your bird,” said the Princess calmly.
 
At this moment a door opened, and another little old man, not unlike King Irascible, but something taller, and with a smoother and more bland countenance, entered, made his way up to the Princess, and bowed low.
 
“Most lovely and gracious lady, your servant has found a man taller than all others, and craves permission to present him to you.”
 
“Produce him, King Flatterer.  We have already a tall and proper man before us. I scarce think you will show me a taller.”
 
King Flatterer turned and beckoned, and up through the hall strode a tall, bulky personage.  Large-headed, large bodied, large limbed, he was as fat as Daddy was thin, and rejoiced in the nickname of “Bolster.”
 
“A very fine man indeed,” said the Princess, “but hardly taller than the other, I fancy; let them be measured.”  Measured they accordingly were, and both were precisely seven feet high, neither more nor less.
 
“Most Divine Princess” began King Flatterer.
 
“Fiddlesticks I” interrupted the Princess.
 
“There’s some mistake,” snarled King Irascible.  “Measure them again; I’m sure it will turn out that I have won.”
 
“I’ll turn you out if you interfere,” retorted the Princess.
 
“Ugh!” growled King Irascible; but he didn’t venture to say any more, for he knew the Princess was, comparatively, strong-bodied as well as strong-minded.
 
“We must wait for King Sobersides,” observed Her Royal Highness, “and here he comes.”
 
Up walked another little old man, exceedingly like the other two kings, but with a long-drawn face, and a slow, melancholy gait.  He gave Daddy the impression of having been nursed on very flat beer instead of wholesome sweet milk.  Immediately behind him came a man, tall, broad, red-nosed, red-haired, decidedly ugly; and, being given to drink more punch than he ought, he was generally called “Toddy.”
 
King Sobersides bowed sadly.  “Royal lady, I have sought to do your bidding in procuring for your august inspection the most — h’m — elevated mortal that is to be found.  Here is the individual. I opine he can scarcely be matched.”
 
“Measure him,” said the Princess curtly.  She didn’t like the look of Toddy, and also King Sobersides’ face made her feel dull.
 
They measured him; they measured the others again.  They were all seven feet high, neither more nor less.
 
King Sobersides sighed profoundly several times in succession, which made the Princess feel angry; she therefore rose up and lifted her hand, and instantly there was a perfect silence.
 
“Kings, Lords, and Ladies, I promised my hand to that Sovereign who should be able to show me the tallest man.  There is no tallest man here.  They are all three equal; therefore my promise is null and void.  I now solemnly declare, in the presence of you all, that I will give my hand to whichever of these six persons before me, the three kings and their three tall men shall pay me the greatest compliment, giving five minutes for consideration.  Do I say well?”  A murmur of applause ran through the assembly, and the Princess resumed her seat.
 
For three hundred seconds a profound silence reigned, even King Sobersides suppressed his sighs and King Irascible his growls, and then the latter came forward and said —
 
“It is not in my nature to make pretty speeches and pay empty compliments, and I feel sure, Madam, you are above listening to them.”
 
“Ha! ha!” laughed she, “there’s a good deal in that; nevertheless I am not above listening to them, and liking them too.”
 
Then King Flatterer advanced and spoke.  “Bestow upon me the light of your countenance, sweetest lady, and all other lights will become dark; only smile upon me once, and my whole life will be flooded with sunshine.”
 
“Shut your eyes,” said the Princess.
 
He did so, and she smiled graciously upon him, but he didn’t see it.
 
“Do you feel happy?” said she, as he opened them.
 
“Not yet, Divine Princess.”
 
“Then I’m afraid you tell fibs;” and she beckoned King Sobersidesr forward.
 
He bowed, he sighed.  “My life is wasting away in sighs for your sweet sake.”  (“Small size,” muttered the Princess.)  “Neither Fairy-Land nor any other land can produce for me a second Honoria.”
 
“Stuff,” said the Princess, and gave herself a shake, for she felt gloomy.
 
Then Bolster turned to her and said, “You are the very fairest and daintiest lady I ever set eyes on, but I doubt you’d always be as soft as my feather bed;” and he shook his fat head slowly and sadly, as he thought of his comfortable couch so far away.
 
“I’ll drink your health as soon as I get something to drink it in, and I’ll go on drinking it as long as you like; I couldn’t say more than that, I’m sure,” said Toddy.
 
Then Daddy advanced shyly, and, hesitating for a moment, took the Princess’s hand, and bowed over it till his lips touched the soft, white, jewelled fingers.  “Madam, I love you,” he said simply.
 
The Princess smiled, and, placing her other hand in his, said —
 
“Sir, I thank you; you have paid me the greatest — the only great — compliment worth having, and I bestow on you my hand and all my possessions.  Let us adjourn to the banquet, and celebrate our wedding with merriment and festivity.
 
Down the room they went, he in his every-day working clothes, she in her glistening satin and jewels; down towards the seats of honour at the richly-spread table; but, alas! Daddy in his great elation forgot to look at anything but his bride, and suddenly he struck sharply against a crystal pillar and fell heavily to the ground.
 
Rising hastily and looking round, he saw before him a little old-fashioned grate with a few grey ashes lying in it, a dark, dingy room with a gleam of daylight creeping through a crevice in a wooden shutter, and a three-legged stool lying on the floor.  He stared amazed, he rubbed his eyes, he pinched himself — it was his own ugly little cottage he saw.  His bride, the banquet, the wonderful hall, the kings, the company, were gone — vanished — and he was alone in his dingy home, cold and comfortless.
 
While he was still staring round him, the door was shaken sharply; he opened it mechanically, to find a neighbour’s wife with a fresh egg in her hand, a little present for Daddy’s breakfast.  He looked at the woman blankly, saying in a kind of unconscious voice,
 
“Where is the banquet? where is the Princess?”
 
“What is it you say?” asked Mrs. Grey.
 
“Where is my bride, the Princess?”
 
The woman felt frightened, and hurried away to tell the neighbours that poor Daddy had gone quite crazed, and was talking utter nonsense.
 
Soon the little boys and girls came crowding round the cottage to look at “Mad Daddy,” and they all began to talk at once and ask him all sorts of questions, till at last he felt so worried, he said if they would but be silent he would tell them of all the wonders he had seen and heard during the night; and this he accordingly did, as accurately as he could.  But they only laughed and jeered the more, and called him “King Daddy,” and asked him where his crown was, and when he was going again to his Palace and his Princess.  Poor Daddy got more and more angry; all he could say they would not believe him, till at last he hunted them out of the house, saying he would go that very night to the mountain and would mark the way, and then, when he was quite sure of it, he would lead them all to this Fairy-Land and show them its glories.
 
Late that night, in the bitter cold, with the snow falling thicker and faster each minute, Daddy slipped out through the silent, sleeping town, over the snow-clad deserted fields, on, on, up to the high hill; and the snow fell faster and faster, and the wind began to howl in a horrible, weird way, and every few minutes blew with doubled force, and with each gust thick masses of snow drifted and lay together.
 
In the morning, when the village children looked out of their windows and doors, they saw that there had been a great snow-storm, and in the grey, leaden-hued sky there was every sign of more snow, and even as they looked it began to fall again, and no one could go outside his house neither that day nor the next.  Then there came a change, and a cold, pale sun stole out and tried to look a little bright and cheerful, but it was very hard work, and in spite of its efforts it was a very melancholy-faced sun that glanced down on the white world, and slowly, slowly melted the snow into tears for very sorrow. By-and-by people began to venture out of their houses and look about them, and some of the bigger children contrived to get over to Daddy’s cottage to ask him if he had seen any more of his beautiful Princess.  But Daddy wasn’t there.  The cottage was empty, the hearth desolate.  He never was there again; and though he was sought for in all directions, no one could find any trace of him; and the little folks began to think that perhaps there really was a Fairy-Land after all, and that Daddy had gone back to it and to all the beauties he had described to them.  But some of the older children were frightened when they remembered how they had jeered the poor half-witted fellow, and how he had declared he would go out that night and mark the way; and they knew if he had wandered on to the hill in that terrible snow-storm, it was little marvel his cottage was empty for ever after.
 

____________________

  
In the bright, glad spring-time, when many a pretty blossom was pushing its fair little head up through the ground and lifting its delicate face to the tender blue sky, a great many of the village children went out for a day’s pleasuring on to the hill.  There, in a deep hollow, they came upon a tall skeleton form lying with a few rotten rags about its bleaching bones — just enough to show that it was the remains of the poor lost Daddy they had found.
 
It was a very sad pleasure-party that returned that day to the village to tell what they had discovered, and I think none of them ever again mocked and jeered any poor soul who was more foolish than they were; and I know when they grew up and had little children of their own, they told them the story of poor Daddy Long-Legs — how he must have dreamed about the beautiful Fairy Hall, and how they, in the plenitude of their sense, as they thought it, had scorned and mocked the poor silly fellow, and so had driven him out in that terrible night to his death in the cruel snow.

 

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"Poor Daddy Longlegs and Other Stories - L. C. - Google ブックス" <http://books.google.co.jp/books/about/Poor_Daddy_Longlegs_and_Other_Stories.html?id=p56tYgEACAAJ&redir_esc=y> 〔2009年から2010年にかけて、なぜかリプリント版(といっても例の電子テキスト利用版が大半ではないかと思われますが)が4種は出ていました〕

 


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『アメリカのソネット』(ウィリアム・シャープ編, 1889) _American Sonnets_ (1889), ed. William Sharp [歌・詩 ]

去年の春、「ウィリアム・シャープとフィオナ・マクラウドの書誌 Partial Bibliography of William Sharp and Fiona Macleod」という記事を書いて、随時リンクを張ると書いたのに、そのままになっていました。それで、ぼんやりと眺めかけて、すぐにInternet Archive で検索したらヒットしたので、リンクを張るとともに別記事として書きつけておきます。

William Sharp, ed.  American Sonnets.  [Canterbury Poets Series.]  London: Walter Scott, 1899.  lx+293pp.

E-text @ Internet Archive <http://www.archive.org/stream/americansonnets00shar#page/n0/mode/2up>

  "The Canterbury Poets" というのはウィリアム・シャープが総編集をしたシリーズのようで、5、6冊自身が編注者となっているみたい。

  250ページまでがソネット(14行詩)で、そのあと4行詩と8行詩が少しおさめられ、最後に書誌的なNotes が付いています。ソネットで最も多く採られている詩人はヘンリー・ウォズワース・ロングフェロー (pp. 134-145) で12篇、ついでEdgar Fawcett の10篇 (45-54)。詩人のアルファベット順に並んでいます。ただ目次と本文の数字がずれている。ポーは3篇。1ページに1篇という読みやすい体裁です。

Sharp,AmericanSonnets.JPG

  右下の587 というのは印刷上の符号なのかしら。

Sharp,AmericanSonnets,notes290-1.JPG

  たまたまポーが載っている注のページ(とその次のページ)には同時代のAmélie Rives (1863-1945) や Edgar Saltus (1855-1921) について、長めの説明が書かれています。あー、ウィリアム・シャープってほんとに読書家だったんだなあ、って思います。

William_Sharp_(writer)_-_Project_Gutenberg_eText_19028.jpg
William Sharp (1855-1905)

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March 31 ウィリアム・シャープとフィオナ・マクラウド(1) William Sharp and Fiona Macleod (1)」 (2009.3.31)

ウィリアム・シャープとロセッティ William Sharp and Dante Gabriel Rossetti」 (2011.2.17)

ロセッティのプロセルピーナ (4) Dante Gabriel Rossetti's Proserpina」 (2011.2.19)

ウィリアム・シャープとフィオナ・マクラウドの書誌 Partial Bibliography of William Sharp and Fiona Macleod」  (2011.3.31)

「March 31 ウィリアム・シャープとフィオナ・マクラウド(1) William Sharp and Fiona Macleod (1)」 (2009.3.31)


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ポーが書評した本 (7) シガニー夫人の『ツィンツェンドルフ、その他の詩』 (1836) Books Reviewed by Poe (7): _Zinzendorff, and Other Poems_ by Mrs. L. H. Sigourney [ポーの書評 Poe's Book Reviews]

Zinzendorff, and Other PoemsBy Mrs. L. H. Sigourney.  New York: Leavitt, Lord and Co.  1836.  300pp.

L・H・シガニー夫人著 『ツィンツェンドルフ、その他の詩』

E-text at Open Library [New York Public Library; MSN] <http://openlibrary.org/works/OL7787359W/ZinzendorffInternet Archive zinzendorffando00sigogoog


 ポー の書評は、『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー The Southern Literary Messenger』1836年1月号所収。41ページから68ページにかけての十のReview からなる "Critical Notices" の最初のもので、実は、1835年に出版された他の女性詩人(Miss [Hannah Flagg] Gould, 1789-1865 と Mirs. [Elizabeth Fries] Ellet, 1818-77) の詩集も合わせて俎上にのせている。

  ツィンツェンドルフというとモラヴィア派で有名だけれど、モラヴィア兄弟団 (Moravian Brethren) ・モラヴィア教会 (Moravian Church) は15世紀にボヘミアで設立されていたのが17世紀に再興されたもので、それをツィンツェンドルフがさらに再興させたということらしい。Zinzendorf を辞書をあらためて引いてみると、研究社の大英和は「ツィンツェンドルフ《1700-60》ドイツの宗教改革者でMoravian兄弟団の設立者」と書かれ、ジーニアス英和大辞典は「・・・ドイツの宗教指導者; Moravian教会を設立」と記し、リーダーズ英和辞典は「ボヘミア兄弟団(Bohemian Brethren) 直系のモラヴィア兄弟団の設立者」としている。ランダムハウス英和大辞典はモラヴィアへの言及はなくて、「ヘルンフート派(Herrnhuter) を創設 (1722)」と記述している。百科事典をみると、ツィンツェンドルフはドレスデンで迫害を逃れたボヘミア兄弟団員と知り合い、これがヘルンフート兄弟団の始まりとなったということだ。

  アメリカ文学で有名(じゃないかもしれないけど意外なので気になる)なのは、クーパーの造形したナッティー・バンポーがモラヴィア教徒であることかしら。C・B・ブラウンにも出てきたような気がする。

  リディア・ハントリー・シガニー L[ydia] H[untley] Sigourney, 1791-1865 はコネティカット州ハートフォードの女性詩人で、ポーもふれているように『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』誌にも寄稿したひと。

  ポーはシガニー夫人の詩が、(1) 統一Unity を欠いていることと、(2) イギリスの女性詩人Felicia Hemans の模倣が強いことを批判するけれど、versification (なんと訳したらいいのでしょう)を基本的には褒め、具体的にさまざまな詩行を引いて丁寧に解説しています。

Zinzenforff(1836)byMrs.L.H.Sigourney.jpg
Zinzendorff, and Other PoemsBy Mrs. L. H. Sigourney.  New York: Leavitt, Lord and Co.  1836.

 

 

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CRITICAL NOTICES.

  MRS. SIGOURNEY―MISS GOULD―MRS. ELLET.

Zinzendorff, and other PoemsBy Mrs. L. H. Sigourney, New York: Published by Leavitt, Lord & Co. 1836.
PoemsBy Miss H. F. Gould, Third Edition.  Boston: Hilliard, Gray & Co. 1835.
Poems; Translated and OriginalBy Mrs. E. F. Ellet.  Philadelphia: Key and Biddle. 1835.

Mrs. Sigourney has been long known as an author.  Her earliest publication was reviewed about twenty years ago, in the North American.  She was then Miss Huntley.  The fame which she has since acquired is extensive; and we, who so much admire her virtues and her talents, and who have so frequently expressed our admiration of both in this Journal—we, of all persons—are the least inclined to call in question the justice or the accuracy of the public opinion, by which has been adjudged to her so high a station among the literati of our land.  Some things, however, we cannot pass over in silence.  There are two kinds of popular reputation, —or rather there are two roads by which such reputation may be attained: and it appears to us an idiosyncrasy which distinguishes mere fame from most, or perhaps from all other human ends, that, in regarding the intrinsic value of the object, we must not fail to introduce, as a portion of our estimate, the means by which the object is acquired.  To speak less abstractedly.  Let us suppose two writers having a reputation apparently equal—that is to say, their names being equally in the mouths of the people—for we take this to be the most practicable test of what we choose to term apparent popular reputation.  Their names then are equally in the mouths of the people.  The one has written a great work—let it be either an Epic of high rank, or something which, although of seeming littleness in itself, is yet, like the Christabelle of Coleridge, entitled to be called great from its power of creating intense emotion in the minds of great men.  And let us imagine that, by this single effort, the author has attained a certain quantum of reputation.  We know it to be possible that another writer of very moderate powers may build up for himself, little by little, a reputation equally great—and this, too, merely by keeping continually in the eye, or by appealing continually with little things, to the ear, of that great, overgrown, and majestical gander, the critical and bibliographical rabble.

It would be an easy, although perhaps a somewhat disagreeable task, to point out several of the most popular writers in America—popular in the above mentioned sense—who have manufactured for themselves a celebrity by the very questionable means, and in the very questionable manner, to which we have alluded.  But it must not be thought that we wish to include Mrs. Sigourney in the number.  By no means.  She has trod, however, upon the confines of their circle.  She does not owe her reputation to the chicanery we mention, but it cannot be denied that it has been thereby greatly assisted.  In a word—no single piece which she has written, and not even her collected works as we behold them in the present volume, and in the one published some years ago, would fairly entitle her to that exalted rank which she actually enjoys as the authoress, time after time, of her numerous, and, in most instances, very creditable compositions.  The validity of our objections to this adventitious notoriety we must be allowed to consider unshaken, until it can be proved that any multiplication of zeros will eventuate in the production of a unit.

We have watched, too, with a species of anxiety and vexation brought about altogether by the sincere interest we take in Mrs. Sigourney, the progressive steps by which she has at length acquired the title of the "American Hemans."  Mrs. S. cannot conceal from her own discernment that she has acquired this title solely by imitation.  The very phrase "American Hemans" speaks loudly in accusation: and we are grieved that what by the over-zealous has been intended as complimentary should fall with so ill-omened a sound into the ears of the judicious.  We will briefly point out those particulars in which Mrs. Sigourney stands palpably convicted of that sin which in poetry is not to be forgiven.

And first, in the character of her subjects.  Every unprejudiced observer must be aware of the almost identity between the subjects of Mrs. Hemans and the subjects of Mrs. Sigourney.  The themes of the former lady are the unobtrusive happiness, the sweet images, the cares, the sorrows, the gentle affections, of the domestic hearth—these too are the themes of the latter.  The Englishwoman has dwelt upon all the "tender and true" chivalries of passion—and the American has dwelt as unequivocally upon the same.  Mrs. Hemans has delighted in the radiance of a pure and humble faith—she has looked upon nature with a speculative attention—she has "watched the golden array of sunset clouds, with an eye looking beyond them to the habitations of the disembodied spirit"—she has poured all over her verses the most glorious and lofty aspirations of a redeeming Christianity, and in all this she is herself glorious and lofty.  And all this too has Mrs. Sigourney not only attempted, but accomplished—yet in all this she is but, alas! —an imitator.

And secondly—in points more directly tangible than the one just mentioned, and therefore more easily appreciated by the generality of readers, is Mrs. Sigourney again open to the charge we have adduced. We mean in the structure of her versification—in the peculiar turns of her phraseology—in certain habitual expressions (principally interjectional,) such as yea! alas! and many others, so frequent upon the lips of Mrs. Hemans as to give an almost ludicrous air of similitude to all articles of her composition—in an invincible inclination to apostrophize every object, in both moral and physical existence—and more particularly in those mottos or quotations, sometimes of considerable extent, prefixed to nearly every poem, not as a text for discussion, nor even as an intimation of what is to follow, but as the actual subject matter itself, and of which the verses ensuing are, in most instances, merely a paraphrase.  These were all, in Mrs. Hemans, mannerisms of a gross and inartificial nature; but, in Mrs. Sigourney, they are mannerisms of the most inadmissible kind—the mannerisms of imitation.

In respect to the use of the quotations, we cannot conceive how the fine taste of Mrs. Hemans could have admitted the practice, or how the good sense of Mrs. Sigourney could have thought it for a single moment worthy of her own adoption.  In poems of magnitude the mind of the reader is not, at all times, enabled to include in one comprehensive survey the proportions and proper adjustment of the whole. He is pleased—if at all—with particular passages; and the sum of his pleasure is compounded of the sums of the pleasurable sensations inspired by these individual passages during the progress of perusal.  But in pieces of less extent—like the poems of Mrs. Sigourney—the pleasure is unique, in the proper acceptation of that term—the understanding is employed, without difficulty, in the contemplation of the picture as a whole—and thus its effect will depend, in a very great degree, upon the perfection of its finish, upon the nice adaptation of its constituent parts, and especially upon what is rightly termed by Schlegel, the unity or totality of interest.  Now it will readily be seen, that the practice we have mentioned as habitual with Mrs. Hemans and Mrs. Sigourney is utterly at variance with this unity.  By the initial motto—often a very long one—we are either put in possession of the subject of the poem; or some hint, historic fact, or suggestion is thereby afforded, not included in the body of the article, which, without the suggestion, would be utterly incomprehensible.  In the latter case, while perusing the poem, the reader must revert, in mind at least, to the motto for the necessary explanation. In the former, the poem being a mere paraphrase of the motto, the interest is divided between the motto and the paraphrase. In either instance the totality of effect is annihilated.

Having expressed ourselves thus far in terms of nearly unmitigated censure, it may appear in us somewhat equivocal to say that, as Americans, we are proud—very proud of the talents of Mrs. Sigourney.  Yet such is the fact.  The faults which we have already pointed out, and some others which we will point out hereafter, are but dust in the balance, when weighed against her very many and distinguishing excellences.  Among those high qualities which give her, beyond doubt, a title to the sacred name of poet are an acute sensibility to natural loveliness—a quick and perfectly just conception of the moral and physical sublime—a calm and unostentatious vigor of thought—a mingled delicacy and strength of expression—and above all, a mind nobly and exquisitely attuned to all the gentle charities and lofty pieties of life.

The volume whose title forms the heading of this article embraces one hundred and seventy-three poems.  The longest, but not the best, of these is Zinzendorff.  "It owes its existence," says the author, "to a recent opportunity of personal intercourse with that sect of Christians who acknowledge Zinzendorff as their founder; and who, in their labors of self-denying benevolence, and their avoidance of the slight, yet bitter causes of controversy, have well preserved that sacred test of discipleship 'to love one another.' "  Most of the other pieces were "suggested by the passing and common incidents of life," —and we confess that we find no fault, with their "deficiency in the wonderful and wild."  Not in these mountainous and stormy regions—but in the holy and quiet valley of the beautiful, must forever consent to dwell the genius of Mrs. Sigourney.

The poem of Zinzendorff includes five hundred and eighty lines.  It relates, in a simple manner, some adventures of that man of God.  Many passages are very noble, and breathe the truest spirit of the Muse.  At page 14, for example.

                ——————The high arch
       Of the cloud-sweeping forest proudly cast (casts)
       A solemn shadow, for no sound of axe
       Had taught the monarch Oak dire principles
       Of Revolution, or brought down the Pine
       Like haughty baron from his castled height.
       Thus dwelt the kings of Europe — ere the voice
       Of the crusading monk, with whirlwind tone
       Did root them from their base, with all their hosts,
       Tossing the red-cross banner to the sky.

Again at page 21, we have something equally beautiful, in a very different way.  The passage is however much injured by the occurrence of the word 'that' at the commencement of both the sixth and seventh line.

                    ———Now the infant morning raised
       Her rosy eyelids.  But no soft breeze moved
       The forest lords to shake the dews of sleep
       From their green coronals.  The curtaining mist
       Hung o'er the quiet river, and it seemed
       That Nature found the summer night so sweet

       That 'mid the stillness of her deep repose

       She shunned the wakening of the king of day.

All this is exquisite, and in Zinzendorff there are many passages of a like kind.  The poem, however, is by no means free from faults.  In the first paragraph we have the following:

                    ———Through the breast
       Of that fair vale the Susquehannah roam'd,
       Wearing its robe of silver like a bride.
       Now with a noiseless current gliding slow,
       Mid the rich velvet of its curtaining banks
       It seemed to sleep.

To suppose the Susquehannah roaming through the breast of any thing—even of a valley—is an incongruity: and to say that such false images are common, is to say very little in their defence. But when the noble river is bedizzened out in robes of silver, and made to wash with its bright waters nothing better than curtains of velvet, we feel a very sensible and a very righteous indignation. We might have expected such language from an upholsterer, or a marchande des modes, but it is utterly out of place upon the lips of Mrs. Sigourney.  To liken the glorious objects of natural loveliness to the trappings and tinsel of artificiality, is one of the lowest, and at the same time, one of the most ordinary exemplifications of the bathos.  At page 21, these verses occur:

                        No word was spoke,
       As when the friends of desolated Job,
       Finding the line of language all too short

       To fathom woe like his, sublimely paid

       That highest homage at the throne of grief,
       Deep silence.

The image here italicized is striking, but faulty. It is deduced not from any analogy between actual existences—between woe on the one hand, and the sea on the other—but from the identity of epithet (deep) frequently applied to both. We say the "deep sea," and the expression "deep woe" is certainly familiar.  But in the first case the sea is actually deep; in the second, woe is but metaphorically so.  Sound, therefore—not sense, is the basis of the analogy, and the image is consequently incorrect.

Some faults of a minor kind we may also discover in Zinzendorff. We dislike the use made by the poetess of antique modes of expression—here most unequivocally out of place.  For example.

                         Where the red council-fire
       Disturbed the trance of midnight, long they sate
.  

       What time, with hatred fierce and unsubdued,
       The woad-stained Briton, in his wattled boat,
       Qualied 'neath the glance of Rome.

The versification of Zinzendorff is particularly good—always sweet—occasionally energetic.  We are enabled to point out only one defective line in the poem, and in this the defect has arisen from an attempt to contract enthusiasm into a word of three syllables.

                               He who found
       This blest enthusiasm nerve his weary heart.

There are, however, some errors of accentuation—for example:

       So strong in that misanthrope's bosom wrought
       A frenzied malice.

Again—

                 He would have made himself
       A green oasis mid the strife of tongues.

We observe too that Mrs. Sigourney places the accent in Wyoming on the second syllable.

       'Twas summer in Wyoming.  Through the breast, &c.
                           ———And the lore
       Of sad Wyoming's chivalry, a part
       Of classic song.

But we have no right to quarrel with her for this.  The word is so pronounced by those who should know best.  Campbell, however, places the accent on the first syllable.

       On Susquehannah's banks, fair Wyoming!

We will conclude our remarks upon Zinzendorff with a passage of surpassing beauty, energy, and poetic power.  Why cannot Mrs. Sigourney write always thus?

                            ———Not a breath
       Disturbed the tide of eloquence.  So fixed
       Were that rude auditory, it would seem
       Almost as if a nation had become
       Bronzed into statues.  Now and then a sigh,
       The unbidden messenger of thought profound,
       Parted the lip; or some barbarian brow
       Contracted closer in a haughty frown,
       As scowled the cynic, 'mid his idol fanes,
       When on Mars-Hill the inspired Apostle preached
       Jesus of Nazareth.

These lines are glowing all over with the true radiance of poetry.  The image in italics is perfect.  Of the versification, it is not too much to say that it reminds us of Miltonic power.  The slight roughness in the line commencing "When on Mars-Hill," and the discord introduced at the word "inspired," evince an ear attuned to the delicacies of melody, and form an appropriate introduction to the sonorous and emphatic closing—Jesus of Nazareth.

Of the minor poems in the volume before us, we must be pardoned for speaking in a cursory manner.  Of course they include many degrees of excellence.  Their beauties and their faults are, generally, the beauties and the faults of Zinzendorff.  We will particularize a few of each.

On page 67, in a poem entitled Female Education, occur the following lines:

             ——Break Oblivion's sleep,
          And toil with florist's art
       To plant the scenes of virtue deep
          In childhood's fruitful heart!
       To thee the babe is given,
          Fair from its glorious Sire;
       Go—nurse it for the King of Heaven,
          And He will pay the hire.

The conclusion of this is bathetic to a degree bordering upon the grotesque.

At page 160 is an error in metre—of course an oversight. We point it out merely because, did we write ourselves, we should like to be treated in a similar manner.  For 'centred' we should probably read 'concentred.'

       The wealth of every age
          Thou hast center'd here,
       The ancient tome, the classic page,
          The wit, the poet, and the sage,
       All at thy nod appear.

At page 233, line 10, the expression "Thou wert their friend," although many precedents may be found to justify it—is nevertheless not English.  The same error occurs frequently in the volume.

The poem entitled The Pholas, at page 105, has the following introductory prose sentence: "It is a fact familiar to Conchologists, that the genus Pholas possesses the property of phosphorescence.  It has been asserted that this may be restored, even when the animal is in a dried state, by the application of water, but is extinguished by the least quantity of brandy."  This odd fact in Natural History is precisely what Cowley would have seized with avidity for the purpose of preaching therefrom a poetical homily on Temperance.  But that Mrs. Sigourney should have thought herself justifiable in using it for such purpose, is what we cannot understand. What business has her good taste with so palpable and so ludicrous a conceit?  Let us now turn to a more pleasing task.

In the Friends of Man, (a poem originally published in our own Messenger,) the versification throughout is of the first order of excellence.  We select an example.

       The youth at midnight sought his bed,
          But ere he closed his eyes,
       Two forms drew near with gentle tread,
          In meek and saintly guise;
       One struck a lyre of wondrous power,
          With thrilling music fraught,
       That chained the flying summer hour,
          And charmed the listener's thought —
       For still would its tender cadence be
          Follow me! follow me!
       And every morn a smile shall bring,
          Sweet as the merry lay I sing.

The lines entitled Filial Grief, at page 199, are worthy of high praise.  Their commencement is chaste, simple, and altogether exquisite.  The verse italicized contains an unjust metaphor, but we are forced to pardon it for the sonorous beauty of its expression.

       The love that blest our infant dream,
          That dried our earliest tear,
       The tender voice, the winning smile,
          That made our home so dear,
       The hand that urged our youthful thought
          O'er low delights to soar,
       Whose pencil wrote upon our souls,
          Alas, is ours no more.

We will conclude our extracts with "Poetry" from page 57.  The burden of the song finds a ready echo in our bosoms.

       Morn on her rosy couch awoke,
          Enchantment led the hour,
       And Mirth and Music drank the dews
          That freshened Beauty's flower—
       Then from her bower of deep delight
          I heard a young girl sing,
       "Oh, speak no ill of Poetry,
          For 'tis a holy thing!"

       The sun in noon-day heat rose high,
          And on with heaving breast
       I saw a weary pilgrim toil,
          Unpitied and unblest—
       Yet still in trembling measures flow'd
          Forth from a broken string,
       "Oh, speak no ill of Poetry,
          For 'tis a holy thing!"

       'Twas night, and Death the curtains drew,
          Mid agony severe,
       While there a willing spirit went
          Home to a glorious sphere——
       Yet still it sighed, even when was spread
          The waiting Angel's wing,
       "Oh, speak no ill of Poetry,
          For 'tis a holy thing!"

We now bid adieu to Mrs. Sigourney—yet we trust only for a time.  We shall behold her again.  When that period arrives, having thrown aside the petty shackles which have hitherto enchained her, she will assume, at once, that highest station among the poets of our land which her noble talents so well qualify her for attaining.

 

[―]
[Miss Gould]


 

The remarks which we made in the beginning of our critique on Mrs. Sigourney, will apply, in an equal degree, to Miss Gould.  Her reputation has been greatly assisted by the frequency of her appeals to the attention of the public.  The poems (one hundred and seventeen in number,) included in the volume now before us have all, we believe, appeared, from time to time, in the periodicals of the day.  Yet in no other point of view, can we trace the remotest similarity between the two poetesses.  We have already pointed out the prevailing characteristics of Mrs. Sigourney.  In Miss Gould we recognize, first, a disposition, like that of Wordsworth, to seek beauty where it is not usually sought—in the homelinesses (if we may be permitted the word,) and in the most familiar realities of existence—secondly abandon of manner—thirdly a phraseology sparkling with antithesis, yet, strange to say, perfectly simple and unaffected.

Without Mrs. Sigourney's high reach of thought, Miss Gould surpasses her rival in the mere vehicle of thought—expression. "Words, words, words," are the true secret of her strength.  Words are her kingdom—and in the realm of language, she rules with equal despotism and nonchalance.  Yet we do not mean to deny her abilities of a higher order than any which a mere logocracy can imply.  Her powers of imagination are great, and she has a faculty of inestimable worth, when considered in relation to effect—the faculty of holding ordinary ideas in so novel, and sometimes in so fantastic a light, as to give them all of the appearance, and much of the value, of originality.  Miss Gould will, of course, be the favorite with the multitude—Mrs. Sigourney with the few.

We can think of no better manner of exemplifying these few observations, than by extracting part of Miss G's little poem, The Great Refiner.

       'Tis sweet to feel that he, who tries
          The silver, takes his seat
       Beside the fire that purifies;
          Lest too intense a heat,
       Raised to consume the base alloy,
       The precious metal too destroy.

       'Tis good to think how well he knows
          The silver's power to bear
       The ordeal to which it goes;
          And that with skill and care,
       He'll take it from the fire, when fit
       For his own hand to polish it.

       'Tis blessedness to know that he
          The piece he has begun
       Will not forsake, till he can see,
          To prove the work well done,
       An image by its brighteness shown
       The perfect likeness of his own.

The mind which could conceive the subject of this poem, and find poetic appropriateness in a forced analogy between a refiner of silver, over his crucible, and the Great Father of all things, occupied in the mysteries of redeeming Grace, we cannot believe a mind adapted to the loftier breathings of the lyre.  On the other hand, the delicate finish of the illustration, the perfect fitness of one portion for another, the epigrammatic nicety and point of the language, give evidence of a taste exquisitely alive to the prettinesses of the Muse.  It is possible that Miss Gould has been led astray in her conception of this poem by the scriptural expression, "He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."

From the apparently harsh strictures we have thought it our duty to make upon the poetry of Miss Gould, must be excepted one exquisite little morceau at page 59 of the volume now under review.  It is entitled The Dying Storm.  We will quote it in full.
 

       I am feeble, pale and weary,
          And my wings are nearly furled;
       I have caused a scene so dreary,
          I am glad to quit the world!
       With bitterness I'm thinking
          On the evil I have done,
       And to my caverns sinking
          From the coming of the sun.

       The heart of man will sicken
          In that pure and holy light,
       When he feels the hopes I've stricken
          With an everlasting blight!
       For widely, in my madness,
          Have I poured abroad my wrath,
       And changing joy to sadness,
          Scattered ruin on my path.

       Earth shuddered at my motion,
          And my power in silence owns;
       But the deep and troubled ocean
          O'er my deeds of horror moans!
       I have sunk the brightest treasure—
          I've destroyed the fairest form—
       I have sadly filled my measure,
          And am now a dying storm.

We have much difficulty in recognizing these verses as from the pen of Miss Gould. They do not contain a single trace of her manner, and still less of the prevailing features of her thought.  Setting aside the flippancy of the metre, ill adapted to the sense, we have no fault to find.  All is full, forcible, and free from artificiality.  The personification of the storm, in its perfect simplicity, is of a high order of poetic excellence—the images contained in the lines italicized, all of the very highest.

 

[Mrs. Ellet]
 

Many but not all of the poems in Mrs. Ellet's volume, likewise, have been printed before—appearing, within the last two years, in different periodicals.  The whole number of pieces now published is fifty seven.  Of these thirty-nine are original.  The rest are translations from the French of Alphonse de Lamartine and Beranger—from the Spanish of Quevedo and Yriarte—from the Italian of Ugo Foscolo, Alfieri, Fulvio Testi, Pindemonte, and Saverio Bettinelli, —and from the German of Schiller.  As evidences of the lady's acquaintance with the modern languages, these translations are very creditable to her. Where we have had opportunities of testing the fidelity of her versions by reference to the originals, we have always found reason to be satisfied with her performances.  A too scrupulous adherence to the text is certainly not one of her faults—nor can we yet justly call her, in regard to the spirit of her authors, a latitudinarian.  We wish, however, to say that, in fully developing the meaning of her originals, she has too frequently neglected their poetical characters. Let us refer to the lady's translation of the Swallows.  We have no hesitation in saying, that not the slightest conception of Pierre Jean de Beranger, can be obtained by the perusal of the lines at page 112, of the volume now before us.

       Bring me, I pray—an exile sad—
          Some token of that valley bright,
       Where in my sheltered childhood glad,
          The future was a dream of light.
       Beside the gentle stream, where swell
          Its waves beneath the lilac tree,
       Ye saw the cot I love so well—
          And speak ye of that home to me?

We have no fault to find with these verses in themselves—as specimens of the manner of the French chansonnier, we have no patience with them.  What we have quoted, is the second stanza of the song.  Our remarks, here, with some little modification, would apply to the Sepulchres of Foscolo, especially to the passage commencing

                           Yes—Pindemonte!  
       The aspiring soul is fired to lofty deeds
       By great men's monuments
, &c.

They would apply, also, with somewhat less force, to Lamartine's Loss of the Anio, in the original of which by the way, we cannot perceive the lines answering to Mrs. E's verses.

       All that obscures thy sovereign majesty
       Degrades our glory in degrading thee.

Quevedo's Sonnet Rome in Ruins, we happen to have by us at this moment.  The translation in this instance is faultless, and combines, happily, a close approximation to the meaning of the original, with its quaint air and pompous rhythm.  The Sonnet itself is a plagiarism entire, from Girolamo Preti.  The opening lines of Quevedo,

       Pilgrim! in vain thou seekest in Rome for Rome!
          Alas! the Queen of nations is no more!
       Dust are her towers, that proudly frowned of yore,
          And her stern hills themselves have built their tomb,

are little else than the

       Roma in Roma non è
       In se stessa cadeo morta e sepolta, &c.

of Girolamo.  But this is no concern of Mrs. Ellet's.

Of the original poems, which form the greater part of the volume, we have hardly been able to form an opinion, during the cursory perusal we have given them.  Some of them have merit.  Some we think unworthy of the talents which their author has undoubtedly displayed.  The epigram, for example, at page 102 is rather a silly joke upon a threadbare theme, and, however well it might have suited Mrs. Ellet's purpose to indite it, she should have had more discretion than to give it permanency in a collection of her poems.

       Echo was once a love sick maid
          They say: the tale is no deceiver.
       However a woman's form might fade
          Her voice would be the last to leave her!

The tragedy (Teresa Contarini) at the end of the volume, "is founded," says the authoress, "upon an incident well known in the history of Venice, which has formed the material for various works of fiction."  Mrs. E. has availed herself of a drama of Nicolini's in part of the first scene of the first act, and in the commencement of the fifth act.  The resemblance between the two plays is, however, very slight.  In plot—in the spirit of the dialogue—and in the range of incidents they differ altogether.  Teresa Contarini was received with approbation at the Park Theatre in March 1835, —Miss Philips performing the heroine.  We must confine ourselves to the simple remark, that the drama appears to us better suited to the closet than the stage.

In evidence that Mrs. Ellet is a poetess of no ordinary rank, we extract, from page 51 of her volume, a little poem rich in vigorous expression, and full of solemn thought.  Its chief merits, however, are condensation and energy.
 

          Hark—to the midnight bell!
          The solemn peal rolls on
       That tells us, with an iron tongue,
          Another year is gone!
       Gone with its hopes, its mockeries, and its fears,
       To the dim rest which wraps our former years.

          Gray pilgrim to the past!
          We will not bid thee stay;
       For joys of youth and passion's plaint
          Thou bear'st alike away.
       Alike the tones of mirth, and sorrow's swell
       Gather to hymn thy parting. —Fare thee well!

          Fill high the cup—and drink
          To Time's unwearied sweep!
       He claims a parting pledge from us—
          And let the draught be deep!
       We may not shadow moments fleet as this,
       With tales of baffled hopes, or vanished bliss.

          No comrade's voice is here,
          That could not tell of grief—
       Fill up! —We know that friendship's hours,
          Like their own joys—are brief.
       Drink to their brightness while they yet may last,
       And drown in song the memory of the past!

          The winter's leafless bough
          In sunshine yet shall bloom;
       And hearts that sink in sadness now
          Ere long dismiss their gloom.
       Peace to the sorrowing!  Let our goblets flow,
       In red wine mantling, for the tears of wo!

          Once more!  A welcoming strain!
          A solemn sound—yet sweet!
       While life is ours, Time's onward steps
          In gladness will we greet!
       Fill high the cup!  What prophet lips may tell
       Where we shall bid another year farewell!

With this extract, we close our observations on the writings of Mrs. Ellet—of Miss Gould—and of Mrs. Sigourney.  The time may never arrive again, when we shall be called upon, by the circumstances of publication, to speak of them in connexion with one another. [Southern Literary Messenger, January 1836]


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ポーが書評した本 (8) H・F・グールドの『詩集』 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (8): _Poems_ by Miss H. F. Gould [ポーの書評 Poe's Book Reviews]

Poems.  By Miss H. F. Gould.  Third Edition.  Boston: Hilliard, Gray & Co. 1835.  239pp.

H・F・グールド嬢著 『詩集』  第3版。 ボストン: ヒリアード、グレイ社、1835年。

Mrs.Gould,Poems.3rd ed(1835).jpg

E-text at Internet Archive [New York Public Library; MSN] <http://www.archive.org/stream/poems06goulgoog#page/n8/mode/2up>  

 

 

Gould,Poems(1832).JPG
初版 (1832) 174pp. <http://www.archive.org/stream/poems07goulgoog#page/n10/mode/2up>

 

Gould,Poems(1833).JPG
第2版 (1833) 224pp. <http://www.archive.org/stream/hammahflagg00goulrich#page/n7/mode/2up>


  ポー の書評は、『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー The Southern Literary Messenger』1836年1月号所収。41ページから68ページにかけての10のReview からなる "Critical Notices" の最初のもので、実は、1835年に出版された他の女性詩人(Mrs. L[ydia] H[untley] Sigourney, 1791-1865 と Mrs. [Elizabeth Fries] Ellet, 1818-77) の詩集も合わせて俎上にのせています。

  H・F・〔ハナ・フラッグ・〕グールド嬢 Miss [Hannah Flagg] Gould, 1789-1865 の場合は、(あるしゅ、ポー自身と同様に、『詩集』が拡大して言ったとはいえ、既に第3版なので、3人あわせてアメリカ女性詩人を論じよう、というポーの意識が働いた上での選択だったと思われます。

  グールドは童謡というか、子供向けの詩を得意とした詩人だったらしいです。ポーはその、"epigrammatic" (警句風の、気のきいた)詩行をほめるのですけど、もうちょっと分析的には、――In Miss Gould we recognize, first, a disposition, like that of Wordsworth, to seek beauty where it is not usually sought—in the homelinesses (if we may be permitted the word,) and in the most familiar realities of existence—secondly abandon of manner—thirdly a phraseology sparkling with antithesis, yet, strange to say, perfectly simple and unaffected.

  つまり、第一に、ふつう美が求められない日常的なところに美を求める傾向(ワーズワース的)、第二に様式の放縦さ、第三に、反対命題(アンチテーゼ)がきらめく詩句(だけど不思議なことにまったく素朴で気取らないことばづかい)。

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Zinzendorff, and other Poems.  By Mrs. L. H. Sigourney, New York: Published by Leavitt, Lord & Co. 1836.
Poems — By Miss H. F. Gould, Third Edition.  Boston: Hilliard, Gray & Co. 1835.
Poems; Translated and Original.  By Mrs. E. F. Ellet.  Philadelphia: Key and Biddle. 1835.

 

[Mrs. Sigourney]  

Mrs. Sigourney has been long known as an author.  Her earliest publication was reviewed about twenty years ago, in the North American.  She was then Miss Huntley.  The fame which she has since acquired is extensive; and we, who so much admire her virtues and her talents, and who have so frequently expressed our admiration of both in this Journal—we, of all persons—are the least inclined to call in question the justice or the accuracy of the public opinion, by which has been adjudged to her so high a station among the literati of our land.  Some things, however, we cannot pass over in silence.  There are two kinds of popular reputation, —or rather there are two roads by which such reputation may be attained: and it appears to us an idiosyncrasy which distinguishes mere fame from most, or perhaps from all other human ends, that, in regarding the intrinsic value of the object, we must not fail to introduce, as a portion of our estimate, the means by which the object is acquired.  To speak less abstractedly.  Let us suppose two writers having a reputation apparently equal—that is to say, their names being equally in the mouths of the people—for we take this to be the most practicable test of what we choose to term apparent popular reputation.  Their names then are equally in the mouths of the people.  The one has written a great work—let it be either an Epic of high rank, or something which, although of seeming littleness in itself, is yet, like the Christabelle of Coleridge, entitled to be called great from its power of creating intense emotion in the minds of great men.  And let us imagine that, by this single effort, the author has attained a certain quantum of reputation.  We know it to be possible that another writer of very moderate powers may build up for himself, little by little, a reputation equally great—and this, too, merely by keeping continually in the eye, or by appealing continually with little things, to the ear, of that great, overgrown, and majestical gander, the critical and bibliographical rabble.

It would be an easy, although perhaps a somewhat disagreeable task, to point out several of the most popular writers in America—popular in the above mentioned sense—who have manufactured for themselves a celebrity by the very questionable means, and in the very questionable manner, to which we have alluded.  But it must not be thought that we wish to include Mrs. Sigourney in the number.  By no means.  She has trod, however, upon the confines of their circle.  She does not owe her reputation to the chicanery we mention, but it cannot be denied that it has been thereby greatly assisted.  In a word—no single piece which she has written, and not even her collected works as we behold them in the present volume, and in the one published some years ago, would fairly entitle her to that exalted rank which she actually enjoys as the authoress, time after time, of her numerous, and, in most instances, very creditable compositions.  The validity of our objections to this adventitious notoriety we must be allowed to consider unshaken, until it can be proved that any multiplication of zeros will eventuate in the production of a unit.

We have watched, too, with a species of anxiety and vexation brought about altogether by the sincere interest we take in Mrs. Sigourney, the progressive steps by which she has at length acquired the title of the "American Hemans."  Mrs. S. cannot conceal from her own discernment that she has acquired this title solely by imitation.  The very phrase "American Hemans" speaks loudly in accusation: and we are grieved that what by the over-zealous has been intended as complimentary should fall with so ill-omened a sound into the ears of the judicious.  We will briefly point out those particulars in which Mrs. Sigourney stands palpably convicted of that sin which in poetry is not to be forgiven.

And first, in the character of her subjects.  Every unprejudiced observer must be aware of the almost identity between the subjects of Mrs. Hemans and the subjects of Mrs. Sigourney.  The themes of the former lady are the unobtrusive happiness, the sweet images, the cares, the sorrows, the gentle affections, of the domestic hearth—these too are the themes of the latter.  The Englishwoman has dwelt upon all the "tender and true" chivalries of passion—and the American has dwelt as unequivocally upon the same.  Mrs. Hemans has delighted in the radiance of a pure and humble faith—she has looked upon nature with a speculative attention—she has "watched the golden array of sunset clouds, with an eye looking beyond them to the habitations of the disembodied spirit"—she has poured all over her verses the most glorious and lofty aspirations of a redeeming Christianity, and in all this she is herself glorious and lofty.  And all this too has Mrs. Sigourney not only attempted, but accomplished—yet in all this she is but, alas! —an imitator.

And secondly—in points more directly tangible than the one just mentioned, and therefore more easily appreciated by the generality of readers, is Mrs. Sigourney again open to the charge we have adduced. We mean in the structure of her versification—in the peculiar turns of her phraseology—in certain habitual expressions (principally interjectional,) such as yea! alas! and many others, so frequent upon the lips of Mrs. Hemans as to give an almost ludicrous air of similitude to all articles of her composition—in an invincible inclination to apostrophize every object, in both moral and physical existence—and more particularly in those mottos or quotations, sometimes of considerable extent, prefixed to nearly every poem, not as a text for discussion, nor even as an intimation of what is to follow, but as the actual subject matter itself, and of which the verses ensuing are, in most instances, merely a paraphrase.  These were all, in Mrs. Hemans, mannerisms of a gross and inartificial nature; but, in Mrs. Sigourney, they are mannerisms of the most inadmissible kind—the mannerisms of imitation.

In respect to the use of the quotations, we cannot conceive how the fine taste of Mrs. Hemans could have admitted the practice, or how the good sense of Mrs. Sigourney could have thought it for a single moment worthy of her own adoption.  In poems of magnitude the mind of the reader is not, at all times, enabled to include in one comprehensive survey the proportions and proper adjustment of the whole. He is pleased—if at all—with particular passages; and the sum of his pleasure is compounded of the sums of the pleasurable sensations inspired by these individual passages during the progress of perusal.  But in pieces of less extent—like the poems of Mrs. Sigourney—the pleasure is unique, in the proper acceptation of that term—the understanding is employed, without difficulty, in the contemplation of the picture as a whole—and thus its effect will depend, in a very great degree, upon the perfection of its finish, upon the nice adaptation of its constituent parts, and especially upon what is rightly termed by Schlegel, the unity or totality of interest.  Now it will readily be seen, that the practice we have mentioned as habitual with Mrs. Hemans and Mrs. Sigourney is utterly at variance with this unity.  By the initial motto—often a very long one—we are either put in possession of the subject of the poem; or some hint, historic fact, or suggestion is thereby afforded, not included in the body of the article, which, without the suggestion, would be utterly incomprehensible.  In the latter case, while perusing the poem, the reader must revert, in mind at least, to the motto for the necessary explanation. In the former, the poem being a mere paraphrase of the motto, the interest is divided between the motto and the paraphrase. In either instance the totality of effect is annihilated.

Having expressed ourselves thus far in terms of nearly unmitigated censure, it may appear in us somewhat equivocal to say that, as Americans, we are proud—very proud of the talents of Mrs. Sigourney.  Yet such is the fact.  The faults which we have already pointed out, and some others which we will point out hereafter, are but dust in the balance, when weighed against her very many and distinguishing excellences.  Among those high qualities which give her, beyond doubt, a title to the sacred name of poet are an acute sensibility to natural loveliness—a quick and perfectly just conception of the moral and physical sublime—a calm and unostentatious vigor of thought—a mingled delicacy and strength of expression—and above all, a mind nobly and exquisitely attuned to all the gentle charities and lofty pieties of life.

The volume whose title forms the heading of this article embraces one hundred and seventy-three poems.  The longest, but not the best, of these is Zinzendorff.  "It owes its existence," says the author, "to a recent opportunity of personal intercourse with that sect of Christians who acknowledge Zinzendorff as their founder; and who, in their labors of self-denying benevolence, and their avoidance of the slight, yet bitter causes of controversy, have well preserved that sacred test of discipleship 'to love one another.' "  Most of the other pieces were "suggested by the passing and common incidents of life," —and we confess that we find no fault, with their "deficiency in the wonderful and wild."  Not in these mountainous and stormy regions—but in the holy and quiet valley of the beautiful, must forever consent to dwell the genius of Mrs. Sigourney.

The poem of Zinzendorff includes five hundred and eighty lines.  It relates, in a simple manner, some adventures of that man of God.  Many passages are very noble, and breathe the truest spirit of the Muse.  At page 14, for example.

                ——————The high arch
       Of the cloud-sweeping forest proudly cast (casts)
       A solemn shadow, for no sound of axe
       Had taught the monarch Oak dire principles
       Of Revolution, or brought down the Pine
       Like haughty baron from his castled height.
       Thus dwelt the kings of Europe — ere the voice
       Of the crusading monk, with whirlwind tone
       Did root them from their base, with all their hosts,
       Tossing the red-cross banner to the sky.

Again at page 21, we have something equally beautiful, in a very different way.  The passage is however much injured by the occurrence of the word 'that' at the commencement of both the sixth and seventh line.

                    ———Now the infant morning raised
       Her rosy eyelids.  But no soft breeze moved
       The forest lords to shake the dews of sleep
       From their green coronals.  The curtaining mist
       Hung o'er the quiet river, and it seemed
       That Nature found the summer night so sweet

       That 'mid the stillness of her deep repose

       She shunned the wakening of the king of day.

All this is exquisite, and in Zinzendorff there are many passages of a like kind.  The poem, however, is by no means free from faults.  In the first paragraph we have the following:

                    ———Through the breast
       Of that fair vale the Susquehannah roam'd,
       Wearing its robe of silver like a bride.
       Now with a noiseless current gliding slow,
       Mid the rich velvet of its curtaining banks
       It seemed to sleep.

To suppose the Susquehannah roaming through the breast of any thing—even of a valley—is an incongruity: and to say that such false images are common, is to say very little in their defence. But when the noble river is bedizzened out in robes of silver, and made to wash with its bright waters nothing better than curtains of velvet, we feel a very sensible and a very righteous indignation. We might have expected such language from an upholsterer, or a marchande des modes, but it is utterly out of place upon the lips of Mrs. Sigourney.  To liken the glorious objects of natural loveliness to the trappings and tinsel of artificiality, is one of the lowest, and at the same time, one of the most ordinary exemplifications of the bathos.  At page 21, these verses occur:

                        No word was spoke,
       As when the friends of desolated Job,
       Finding the line of language all too short

       To fathom woe like his, sublimely paid

       That highest homage at the throne of grief,
       Deep silence.

The image here italicized is striking, but faulty. It is deduced not from any analogy between actual existences—between woe on the one hand, and the sea on the other—but from the identity of epithet (deep) frequently applied to both. We say the "deep sea," and the expression "deep woe" is certainly familiar.  But in the first case the sea is actually deep; in the second, woe is but metaphorically so.  Sound, therefore—not sense, is the basis of the analogy, and the image is consequently incorrect.

Some faults of a minor kind we may also discover in Zinzendorff. We dislike the use made by the poetess of antique modes of expression—here most unequivocally out of place.  For example.

                         Where the red council-fire
       Disturbed the trance of midnight, long they sate
.  

       What time, with hatred fierce and unsubdued,
       The woad-stained Briton, in his wattled boat,
       Qualied 'neath the glance of Rome.

The versification of Zinzendorff is particularly good—always sweet—occasionally energetic.  We are enabled to point out only one defective line in the poem, and in this the defect has arisen from an attempt to contract enthusiasm into a word of three syllables.

                               He who found
       This blest enthusiasm nerve his weary heart.

There are, however, some errors of accentuation—for example:

       So strong in that misanthrope's bosom wrought
       A frenzied malice.

Again—

                 He would have made himself
       A green oasis mid the strife of tongues.

We observe too that Mrs. Sigourney places the accent in Wyoming on the second syllable.

       'Twas summer in Wyoming.  Through the breast, &c.
                           ———And the lore
       Of sad Wyoming's chivalry, a part
       Of classic song.

But we have no right to quarrel with her for this.  The word is so pronounced by those who should know best.  Campbell, however, places the accent on the first syllable.

       On Susquehannah's banks, fair Wyoming!

We will conclude our remarks upon Zinzendorff with a passage of surpassing beauty, energy, and poetic power.  Why cannot Mrs. Sigourney write always thus?

                            ———Not a breath
       Disturbed the tide of eloquence.  So fixed
       Were that rude auditory, it would seem
       Almost as if a nation had become
       Bronzed into statues.  Now and then a sigh,
       The unbidden messenger of thought profound,
       Parted the lip; or some barbarian brow
       Contracted closer in a haughty frown,
       As scowled the cynic, 'mid his idol fanes,
       When on Mars-Hill the inspired Apostle preached
       Jesus of Nazareth.

These lines are glowing all over with the true radiance of poetry.  The image in italics is perfect.  Of the versification, it is not too much to say that it reminds us of Miltonic power.  The slight roughness in the line commencing "When on Mars-Hill," and the discord introduced at the word "inspired," evince an ear attuned to the delicacies of melody, and form an appropriate introduction to the sonorous and emphatic closing—Jesus of Nazareth.

Of the minor poems in the volume before us, we must be pardoned for speaking in a cursory manner.  Of course they include many degrees of excellence.  Their beauties and their faults are, generally, the beauties and the faults of Zinzendorff.  We will particularize a few of each.

On page 67, in a poem entitled Female Education, occur the following lines:

             ——Break Oblivion's sleep,
          And toil with florist's art
       To plant the scenes of virtue deep
          In childhood's fruitful heart!
       To thee the babe is given,
          Fair from its glorious Sire;
       Go—nurse it for the King of Heaven,
          And He will pay the hire.

The conclusion of this is bathetic to a degree bordering upon the grotesque.

At page 160 is an error in metre—of course an oversight. We point it out merely because, did we write ourselves, we should like to be treated in a similar manner.  For 'centred' we should probably read 'concentred.'

       The wealth of every age
          Thou hast center'd here,
       The ancient tome, the classic page,
          The wit, the poet, and the sage,
       All at thy nod appear.

At page 233, line 10, the expression "Thou wert their friend," although many precedents may be found to justify it—is nevertheless not English.  The same error occurs frequently in the volume.

The poem entitled The Pholas, at page 105, has the following introductory prose sentence: "It is a fact familiar to Conchologists, that the genus Pholas possesses the property of phosphorescence.  It has been asserted that this may be restored, even when the animal is in a dried state, by the application of water, but is extinguished by the least quantity of brandy."  This odd fact in Natural History is precisely what Cowley would have seized with avidity for the purpose of preaching therefrom a poetical homily on Temperance.  But that Mrs. Sigourney should have thought herself justifiable in using it for such purpose, is what we cannot understand. What business has her good taste with so palpable and so ludicrous a conceit?  Let us now turn to a more pleasing task.

In the Friends of Man, (a poem originally published in our own Messenger,) the versification throughout is of the first order of excellence.  We select an example.

       The youth at midnight sought his bed,
          But ere he closed his eyes,
       Two forms drew near with gentle tread,
          In meek and saintly guise;
       One struck a lyre of wondrous power,
          With thrilling music fraught,
       That chained the flying summer hour,
          And charmed the listener's thought —
       For still would its tender cadence be
          Follow me! follow me!
       And every morn a smile shall bring,
          Sweet as the merry lay I sing.

The lines entitled Filial Grief, at page 199, are worthy of high praise.  Their commencement is chaste, simple, and altogether exquisite.  The verse italicized contains an unjust metaphor, but we are forced to pardon it for the sonorous beauty of its expression.

       The love that blest our infant dream,
          That dried our earliest tear,
       The tender voice, the winning smile,
          That made our home so dear,
       The hand that urged our youthful thought
          O'er low delights to soar,
       Whose pencil wrote upon our souls,
          Alas, is ours no more.

We will conclude our extracts with "Poetry" from page 57.  The burden of the song finds a ready echo in our bosoms.

       Morn on her rosy couch awoke,
          Enchantment led the hour,
       And Mirth and Music drank the dews
          That freshened Beauty's flower—
       Then from her bower of deep delight
          I heard a young girl sing,
       "Oh, speak no ill of Poetry,
          For 'tis a holy thing!"

       The sun in noon-day heat rose high,
          And on with heaving breast
       I saw a weary pilgrim toil,
          Unpitied and unblest—
       Yet still in trembling measures flow'd
          Forth from a broken string,
       "Oh, speak no ill of Poetry,
          For 'tis a holy thing!"

       'Twas night, and Death the curtains drew,
          Mid agony severe,
       While there a willing spirit went
          Home to a glorious sphere——
       Yet still it sighed, even when was spread
          The waiting Angel's wing,
       "Oh, speak no ill of Poetry,
          For 'tis a holy thing!"

We now bid adieu to Mrs. Sigourney—yet we trust only for a time.  We shall behold her again.  When that period arrives, having thrown aside the petty shackles which have hitherto enchained her, she will assume, at once, that highest station among the poets of our land which her noble talents so well qualify her for attaining.

 

[―]

 

The remarks which we made in the beginning of our critique on Mrs. Sigourney, will apply, in an equal degree, to Miss Gould.  Her reputation has been greatly assisted by the frequency of her appeals to the attention of the public.  The poems (one hundred and seventeen in number,) included in the volume now before us have all, we believe, appeared, from time to time, in the periodicals of the day.  Yet in no other point of view, can we trace the remotest similarity between the two poetesses.  We have already pointed out the prevailing characteristics of Mrs. Sigourney.  In Miss Gould we recognize, first, a disposition, like that of Wordsworth, to seek beauty where it is not usually sought—in the homelinesses (if we may be permitted the word,) and in the most familiar realities of existence—secondly abandon of manner—thirdly a phraseology sparkling with antithesis, yet, strange to say, perfectly simple and unaffected.

Without Mrs. Sigourney's high reach of thought, Miss Gould surpasses her rival in the mere vehicle of thought—expression. "Words, words, words," are the true secret of her strength.  Words are her kingdom—and in the realm of language, she rules with equal despotism and nonchalance.  Yet we do not mean to deny her abilities of a higher order than any which a mere logocracy can imply.  Her powers of imagination are great, and she has a faculty of inestimable worth, when considered in relation to effect—the faculty of holding ordinary ideas in so novel, and sometimes in so fantastic a light, as to give them all of the appearance, and much of the value, of originality.  Miss Gould will, of course, be the favorite with the multitude—Mrs. Sigourney with the few.

We can think of no better manner of exemplifying these few observations, than by extracting part of Miss G's little poem, The Great Refiner.

       'Tis sweet to feel that he, who tries
          The silver, takes his seat
       Beside the fire that purifies;
          Lest too intense a heat,
       Raised to consume the base alloy,
       The precious metal too destroy.

       'Tis good to think how well he knows
          The silver's power to bear
       The ordeal to which it goes;
          And that with skill and care,
       He'll take it from the fire, when fit
       For his own hand to polish it.

       'Tis blessedness to know that he
          The piece he has begun
       Will not forsake, till he can see,
          To prove the work well done,
       An image by its brighteness shown
       The perfect likeness of his own.

The mind which could conceive the subject of this poem, and find poetic appropriateness in a forced analogy between a refiner of silver, over his crucible, and the Great Father of all things, occupied in the mysteries of redeeming Grace, we cannot believe a mind adapted to the loftier breathings of the lyre.  On the other hand, the delicate finish of the illustration, the perfect fitness of one portion for another, the epigrammatic nicety and point of the language, give evidence of a taste exquisitely alive to the prettinesses of the Muse.  It is possible that Miss Gould has been led astray in her conception of this poem by the scriptural expression, "He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."

From the apparently harsh strictures we have thought it our duty to make upon the poetry of Miss Gould, must be excepted one exquisite little morceau at page 59 of the volume now under review.  It is entitled The Dying Storm.  We will quote it in full.
 

       I am feeble, pale and weary,
          And my wings are nearly furled;
       I have caused a scene so dreary,
          I am glad to quit the world!
       With bitterness I'm thinking
          On the evil I have done,
       And to my caverns sinking
          From the coming of the sun.

       The heart of man will sicken
          In that pure and holy light,
       When he feels the hopes I've stricken
          With an everlasting blight!
       For widely, in my madness,
          Have I poured abroad my wrath,
       And changing joy to sadness,
          Scattered ruin on my path.

       Earth shuddered at my motion,
          And my power in silence owns;
       But the deep and troubled ocean
          O'er my deeds of horror moans!
       I have sunk the brightest treasure—
          I've destroyed the fairest form—
       I have sadly filled my measure,
          And am now a dying storm.

We have much difficulty in recognizing these verses as from the pen of Miss Gould. They do not contain a single trace of her manner, and still less of the prevailing features of her thought.  Setting aside the flippancy of the metre, ill adapted to the sense, we have no fault to find.  All is full, forcible, and free from artificiality.  The personification of the storm, in its perfect simplicity, is of a high order of poetic excellence—the images contained in the lines italicized, all of the very highest.

 

[Mrs. Ellet]
 

Many but not all of the poems in Mrs. Ellet's volume, likewise, have been printed before—appearing, within the last two years, in different periodicals.  The whole number of pieces now published is fifty seven.  Of these thirty-nine are original.  The rest are translations from the French of Alphonse de Lamartine and Beranger—from the Spanish of Quevedo and Yriarte—from the Italian of Ugo Foscolo, Alfieri, Fulvio Testi, Pindemonte, and Saverio Bettinelli, —and from the German of Schiller.  As evidences of the lady's acquaintance with the modern languages, these translations are very creditable to her. Where we have had opportunities of testing the fidelity of her versions by reference to the originals, we have always found reason to be satisfied with her performances.  A too scrupulous adherence to the text is certainly not one of her faults—nor can we yet justly call her, in regard to the spirit of her authors, a latitudinarian.  We wish, however, to say that, in fully developing the meaning of her originals, she has too frequently neglected their poetical characters. Let us refer to the lady's translation of the Swallows.  We have no hesitation in saying, that not the slightest conception of Pierre Jean de Beranger, can be obtained by the perusal of the lines at page 112, of the volume now before us.

       Bring me, I pray—an exile sad—
          Some token of that valley bright,
       Where in my sheltered childhood glad,
          The future was a dream of light.
       Beside the gentle stream, where swell
          Its waves beneath the lilac tree,
       Ye saw the cot I love so well—
          And speak ye of that home to me?

We have no fault to find with these verses in themselves—as specimens of the manner of the French chansonnier, we have no patience with them.  What we have quoted, is the second stanza of the song.  Our remarks, here, with some little modification, would apply to the Sepulchres of Foscolo, especially to the passage commencing

                           Yes—Pindemonte!  
       The aspiring soul is fired to lofty deeds
       By great men's monuments
, &c.

They would apply, also, with somewhat less force, to Lamartine's Loss of the Anio, in the original of which by the way, we cannot perceive the lines answering to Mrs. E's verses.

       All that obscures thy sovereign majesty
       Degrades our glory in degrading thee.

Quevedo's Sonnet Rome in Ruins, we happen to have by us at this moment.  The translation in this instance is faultless, and combines, happily, a close approximation to the meaning of the original, with its quaint air and pompous rhythm.  The Sonnet itself is a plagiarism entire, from Girolamo Preti.  The opening lines of Quevedo,

       Pilgrim! in vain thou seekest in Rome for Rome!
          Alas! the Queen of nations is no more!
       Dust are her towers, that proudly frowned of yore,
          And her stern hills themselves have built their tomb,

are little else than the

       Roma in Roma non è
       In se stessa cadeo morta e sepolta, &c.

of Girolamo.  But this is no concern of Mrs. Ellet's.

Of the original poems, which form the greater part of the volume, we have hardly been able to form an opinion, during the cursory perusal we have given them.  Some of them have merit.  Some we think unworthy of the talents which their author has undoubtedly displayed.  The epigram, for example, at page 102 is rather a silly joke upon a threadbare theme, and, however well it might have suited Mrs. Ellet's purpose to indite it, she should have had more discretion than to give it permanency in a collection of her poems.

       Echo was once a love sick maid
          They say: the tale is no deceiver.
       However a woman's form might fade
          Her voice would be the last to leave her!

The tragedy (Teresa Contarini) at the end of the volume, "is founded," says the authoress, "upon an incident well known in the history of Venice, which has formed the material for various works of fiction."  Mrs. E. has availed herself of a drama of Nicolini's in part of the first scene of the first act, and in the commencement of the fifth act.  The resemblance between the two plays is, however, very slight.  In plot—in the spirit of the dialogue—and in the range of incidents they differ altogether.  Teresa Contarini was received with approbation at the Park Theatre in March 1835, —Miss Philips performing the heroine.  We must confine ourselves to the simple remark, that the drama appears to us better suited to the closet than the stage.

In evidence that Mrs. Ellet is a poetess of no ordinary rank, we extract, from page 51 of her volume, a little poem rich in vigorous expression, and full of solemn thought.  Its chief merits, however, are condensation and energy.
 

          Hark—to the midnight bell!
          The solemn peal rolls on
       That tells us, with an iron tongue,
          Another year is gone!
       Gone with its hopes, its mockeries, and its fears,
       To the dim rest which wraps our former years.

          Gray pilgrim to the past!
          We will not bid thee stay;
       For joys of youth and passion's plaint
          Thou bear'st alike away.
       Alike the tones of mirth, and sorrow's swell
       Gather to hymn thy parting. —Fare thee well!

          Fill high the cup—and drink
          To Time's unwearied sweep!
       He claims a parting pledge from us—
          And let the draught be deep!
       We may not shadow moments fleet as this,
       With tales of baffled hopes, or vanished bliss.

          No comrade's voice is here,
          That could not tell of grief—
       Fill up! —We know that friendship's hours,
          Like their own joys—are brief.
       Drink to their brightness while they yet may last,
       And drown in song the memory of the past!

          The winter's leafless bough
          In sunshine yet shall bloom;
       And hearts that sink in sadness now
          Ere long dismiss their gloom.
       Peace to the sorrowing!  Let our goblets flow,
       In red wine mantling, for the tears of wo!

          Once more!  A welcoming strain!
          A solemn sound—yet sweet!
       While life is ours, Time's onward steps
          In gladness will we greet!
       Fill high the cup!  What prophet lips may tell
       Where we shall bid another year farewell!

With this extract, we close our observations on the writings of Mrs. Ellet—of Miss Gould—and of Mrs. Sigourney.  The time may never arrive again, when we shall be called upon, by the circumstances of publication, to speak of them in connexion with one another. [Southern Literary Messenger, January 1836]


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ポーが書評した本 (9) エレット夫人の『詩集』 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (9): _Poems, Translated and Original_ by Mrs. E. F. Ellet [ポーの書評 Poe's Book Reviews]

Poems, Translated and Original.  By Mrs. E. F. Ellet.  Philadelphia: Key and Biddle. 1835. xii+229pp.

E・F・エレット夫人 『詩集――翻訳と自作』  フィラデルフィア: キー・アンド・ビドル、1835年。

Mrs.Ellet,Poems,TranslatedandOriginal (1835).jpg

E-text at Internet Archive [The Library of Congress; Sloan Foundation] <http://www.archive.org/stream/poemstranslatedo00elle#page/n7/mode/2up>  / [Harvard University; Google] <http://www.archive.org/stream/poemstranslated00ellegoog#page/n10/mode/2up>

  ポー の書評は、『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー The Southern Literary Messenger』1836年1月号所収。41ページから68ページにかけての十のReview からなる "Critical Notices" の最初のもので、実は、1835年に出版された他の女性詩人(Mrs. L.[ydia] H.[untley] Sigourney, 1791-1865 と Miss [Hannah Flagg] Gould, 1789-1865 の詩集も合わせて俎上にのせています。 

  冒頭でポーが説明しているように、57篇の詩のうちオリジナルは39で、あとはフランス、スペイン、イタリア、ドイツ語からの英訳の詩。忠実な訳だとポーはほめています。

   ポーが終わり近くでとりあげている、最後 (pp. 137-229) におさめられた『 テレーザ・コンタリーニ――悲劇』は5幕からなる劇詩で、1835年3月にパーク・シアターで上演されて好評だったけれど、自分はステージよりもクロゼットに適すると言うにとどめたい、とかポーは書いています。別の文章では「金のためだけに間に合わせで書いたようなものだ」と酷評しています。

Elizabeth_Ellet.jpg
Elizabeth Fries Lummis Ellet (1818-77)
image via Wikipedia <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_F._Ellet>

  エレット Mrs. E.[lizabeth] F.[ries] Ellet, 1818-77 は 1809年1月19日生れのポーの10歳近い年下の女性で、ポーの人生を彩った女性たちのひとりでした。エレットは詩人で評論家で、ニューヨークのいわゆるブルーストッキング(青鞜派)の女性文学者でした。ポーに恋心を抱きますが、、ポーが彼女の気持ちを拒絶して彼女からの情熱的な一連の手紙を返したときに、愛は憎しみに変わります。晩年のポーによるエレット評は、二人の関係を激しく物語っています――「あらゆる悪鬼のなかで最も悪意があり有害なもの――その忌まわしい恋心を軽蔑とともに拒む以外自分にはできなかった女 The most malignant and pertinacious of all fiends―a woman whose loathsome love I could do nothing but repel with scorn」。ちなみにポーがいとこのヴァージニア (1822-47) と結婚するのは1836年3月のことですが、1847年の妻の病没の数年前から、ポーの女性関係はなかなか複雑な様相を呈することになります(エレットの場合は1845年に南部に夫を残してニューヨーク市で文筆活動をするようになり、そこで直接にポーやマーガレット・フラーらと交流するようになるのでした)。 


//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Zinzendorff, and other Poems.  By Mrs. L. H. Sigourney, New York: Published by Leavitt, Lord & Co. 1836.

Poems — By Miss H. F. Gould, Third Edition.  Boston: Hilliard, Gray & Co. 1835.

Poems; Translated and Original.  By Mrs. E. F. Ellet.  Philadelphia: Key and Biddle. 1835.

 

[Mrs. Sigourney]  


————
[Miss Gould]

 

———―
[Mrs. Ellet]
 

Many but not all of the poems in Mrs. Ellet's volume, likewise, have been printed before—appearing, within the last two years, in different periodicals.  The whole number of pieces now published is fifty seven.  Of these thirty-nine are original.  The rest are translations from the French of Alphonse de Lamartine and Beranger—from the Spanish of Quevedo and Yriarte—from the Italian of Ugo Foscolo, Alfieri, Fulvio Testi, Pindemonte, and Saverio Bettinelli, —and from the German of Schiller.  As evidences of the lady's acquaintance with the modern languages, these translations are very creditable to her. Where we have had opportunities of testing the fidelity of her versions by reference to the originals, we have always found reason to be satisfied with her performances.  A too scrupulous adherence to the text is certainly not one of her faults—nor can we yet justly call her, in regard to the spirit of her authors, a latitudinarian.  We wish, however, to say that, in fully developing the meaning of her originals, she has too frequently neglected their poetical characters. Let us refer to the lady's translation of the Swallows.  We have no hesitation in saying, that not the slightest conception of Pierre Jean de Beranger, can be obtained by the perusal of the lines at page 112, of the volume now before us.

       Bring me, I pray—an exile sad—
          Some token of that valley bright,
       Where in my sheltered childhood glad,
          The future was a dream of light.
       Beside the gentle stream, where swell
          Its waves beneath the lilac tree,
       Ye saw the cot I love so well—
          And speak ye of that home to me?

We have no fault to find with these verses in themselves—as specimens of the manner of the French chansonnier, we have no patience with them.  What we have quoted, is the second stanza of the song.  Our remarks, here, with some little modification, would apply to the Sepulchres of Foscolo, especially to the passage commencing

                           Yes—Pindemonte!  
       The aspiring soul is fired to lofty deeds
       By great men's monuments
, &c.

They would apply, also, with somewhat less force, to Lamartine's Loss of the Anio, in the original of which by the way, we cannot perceive the lines answering to Mrs. E's verses.

       All that obscures thy sovereign majesty
       Degrades our glory in degrading thee.

Quevedo's Sonnet Rome in Ruins, we happen to have by us at this moment.  The translation in this instance is faultless, and combines, happily, a close approximation to the meaning of the original, with its quaint air and pompous rhythm.  The Sonnet itself is a plagiarism entire, from Girolamo Preti.  The opening lines of Quevedo,

Pilgrim! in vain thou seekest in Rome for Rome!
Alas! the Queen of nations is no more!
Dust are her towers, that proudly frowned of yore,
And her stern hills themselves have built their tomb,

are little else than the

       Roma in Roma non è
       In se stessa cadeo morta e sepolta, &c.

of Girolamo.  But this is no concern of Mrs. Ellet's.

Of the original poems, which form the greater part of the volume, we have hardly been able to form an opinion, during the cursory perusal we have given them.  Some of them have merit.  Some we think unworthy of the talents which their author has undoubtedly displayed.  The epigram, for example, at page 102 is rather a silly joke upon a threadbare theme, and, however well it might have suited Mrs. Ellet's purpose to indite it, she should have had more discretion than to give it permanency in a collection of her poems.

       Echo was once a love sick maid
          They say: the tale is no deceiver.
       However a woman's form might fade
          Her voice would be the last to leave her!

The tragedy (Teresa Contarini) at the end of the volume, "is founded," says the authoress, "upon an incident well known in the history of Venice, which has formed the material for various works of fiction."  Mrs. E. has availed herself of a drama of Nicolini's in part of the first scene of the first act, and in the commencement of the fifth act.  The resemblance between the two plays is, however, very slight.  In plot—in the spirit of the dialogue—and in the range of incidents they differ altogether.  Teresa Contarini was received with approbation at the Park Theatre in March 1835, —Miss Philips performing the heroine.  We must confine ourselves to the simple remark, that the drama appears to us better suited to the closet than the stage.

In evidence that Mrs. Ellet is a poetess of no ordinary rank, we extract, from page 51 of her volume, a little poem rich in vigorous expression, and full of solemn thought.  Its chief merits, however, are condensation and energy.
 

          Hark—to the midnight bell!
          The solemn peal rolls on
       That tells us, with an iron tongue,
          Another year is gone!
       Gone with its hopes, its mockeries, and its fears,
       To the dim rest which wraps our former years.

          Gray pilgrim to the past!
          We will not bid thee stay;
       For joys of youth and passion's plaint
          Thou bear'st alike away.
       Alike the tones of mirth, and sorrow's swell
       Gather to hymn thy parting. —Fare thee well!

          Fill high the cup—and drink
          To Time's unwearied sweep!
       He claims a parting pledge from us—
          And let the draught be deep!
       We may not shadow moments fleet as this,
       With tales of baffled hopes, or vanished bliss.

          No comrade's voice is here,
          That could not tell of grief—
       Fill up! —We know that friendship's hours,
          Like their own joys—are brief.
       Drink to their brightness while they yet may last,
       And drown in song the memory of the past!

          The winter's leafless bough
          In sunshine yet shall bloom;
       And hearts that sink in sadness now
          Ere long dismiss their gloom.
       Peace to the sorrowing!  Let our goblets flow,
       In red wine mantling, for the tears of wo!

          Once more!  A welcoming strain!
          A solemn sound—yet sweet!
       While life is ours, Time's onward steps
          In gladness will we greet!
       Fill high the cup!  What prophet lips may tell
       Where we shall bid another year farewell!

With this extract, we close our observations on the writings of Mrs. Ellet—of Miss Gould—and of Mrs. Sigourney.  The time may never arrive again, when we shall be called upon, by the circumstances of publication, to speak of them in connexion with one another. [Southern Literary Messenger, January 1836]


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ポーが書評した本 (10) 『サミュエル・ドル―伝』 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (10): _The Life of Samuel Drew_ by Jacob Halls Drew [ポーの書評 Poe's Book Reviews]

The Life, Character, and Literary Labours of Samuel Drew, A. M.  By His Eldest Son [Jacob Halls Drew].  New York: Harper, 1835.  363pp.

長男の筆になる 〔ジェイコブ・ホールズ・ドル―〕 『サミュエル・ドル―の生涯、人柄、そして文筆』   ニューヨーク:ハーパー、1835年。

LifeofSamuelDrew (Harper,1835).jpg

E-text at Internet Archive [University of Wisconsin; MSN] <http://www.archive.org/stream/lifecharacteran02drewgoog#page/n8/mode/2up>

 

  同じ年にロンドンでは第2版が出ています―― The Life, Character, and Literary Labours of Samuel Drew, A. M.  By His Eldest Son.  Second Edition.  London: Fisher, Son, and Co., 1835.  <http://www.archive.org/stream/lifecharacterlit00drew#page/n5/mode/2up> 543pp. 

  ポーは詩人として出発するわけですけど、詩では生計が成り立たず、散文に、小説に、批評に、編集に仕事を求めていきます。最初の短篇小説「壜のなかの原稿 MS. Found in a Bottle」を懸賞に応募して100ドルをもらったのが1833年10月。翌1834年の2月に死の近い義父のジョン・アランを訪ね、追い払われ、金のないポーを、友人の作家ジョン・ペンドルトン・ケネディーが新しい雑誌『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』の編集者トマス・W・ホワイトに紹介しました。短篇小説「ベレナイシィ」や「モレラ」、いくつかの批評が雑誌に載るようになるのは1835年春のことで、8月には編集補助として雇われ、1836年から、ホワイトと反りがあわなくなって(ポーの飲酒問題もあって)決別する(クビになる)、1837年1月まで中心的な編集者として旺盛な執筆活動をします。

  で、最初期の評論は、ポーのものがどれか必ずしも断定できないところがあるのですけれど、とりあえず、もっとも信頼できるポーリン編の次の本にしたがって、選んでいこうと思っています。――

[Collected Writings of Edgar Allan Poe, Volume 5]  Writings in The Southern Literary Messenger: Nonfictional Prose.  Ed. Burton R. Pollin and Joseph V. Ridgely.  New York: Gordian, 1997.

  ポーの最初の批評が載ったのは1835年4月号の『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』誌の456ページから459ページにかけて、 "Critical Notices" 18篇のうちのいくつか(可能性としては17篇)がポーのものと推測されています。証拠を云々するのはやめて、ただ参照用に書き留めたいと思います。最初の、別のひとの筆と思われる、アーヴィングの小説の書評と、ふたつめとみっつめの、雑誌 North American ReviewLondon Quarterly Review を評している文章は落とします。

/////////////////////////////////////

The Life of Samuel Drew, the shoemaker and philospher of Cornwall, by his son, is published by Harper & Brothers, and consists of 360 pages.  Drew was an extraordinary man, whose works, especially his theological ones, have gained him no little celebrity.  It now appears that he had much to do with the writings attributed to Dr. Coke.  [Southern Literary Messenger, April 1835: 458]

   これだけです。

  これだけなら、訳しちゃおうかな。

  (コーンウォールの靴屋にして哲学者『サミュエル・ドル―の生涯』は息子の手になり、ハーパー&ブラザース社刊の360ページの本である。ドル―は非凡な人で、とりわけ神学関係の著作によって著名となった。コーク博士のものとされる著作におおいにかかわっていたらしいことがわかる。)

  コークというのは Thomas Coke, 1747-1814 で、サミュエル・ドル― Samuel Drew,1765-1833 同様に神学者で文人でした。ふたりはメソディズムでつながっています。コークの死後、ドル―は評伝を書いています――Life of the Rev. Thomas Coke (1817) <http://www.archive.org/details/lifeofrevthomasc005485mbp>

  ポーが書評を書いているドル―伝をパラパラ眺めてみましたが、コークの著作とドル―の筆について定かなことはまだ言えません。

  ところで息子(Jacob Halls Drew) は自分を "the biographer" (伝記作者)と呼び、お父さんのことは "Mr Drew" と記しています。 1861年には、 Samuel Drew, M. A., the Self-Taught Cornishman: A Life Lesson.  By His Eldest Son. として父親の評伝を書きあらためています。―― <http://www.archive.org/stream/samueldrewselft00drewgoog#page/n8/mode/2up>  むろん、エドガー・アラン・ポーは2冊目の本については知ったことではなく1849年に死んでいますけれど、ちょっとポーのジョン・アラン John Allan, 1779-1834への複雑な思いを思うと複雑です。


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スピード感とスケジュール感 (3) Sense of Speed and Sense of Schedule [ひまつぶし]

(1) スケジュール感 (2011.12.25)

(2) スピード感なう (12.26)

(3) スピード感

  スピード感は昔からあるコトバ で、とか適当に書いたけれど、とりあえず『広辞苑』の新しい電子辞書の版には「スピード感」がちゃんと見出し語にあがっていました(もっとも近年『広辞 苑』は重厚な辞書としての権威をかなぐりすてて積極的に新しい語彙を拾っている気配がありますけれど)。 ――

スピード - かん【スピード感】

  スピードがある感じ。速い感じ。

  なんじゃそりゃ。

  ところで、個人的には東日本大震災からの復旧・復興のニュースやテレビ討論などのなかで政治家の発言として「スピード感」が耳についたのでしたが、ネット検索してみると、安倍首相の語彙としての「スピード感」への反応が目に止まりました。――

「スピード感をもって…」という安倍語 <http://mr-ikuo.cocolog-nifty.com/yabunirami/2007/07/post_a725.html> 〔『ヤ ブ睨み社会語辞典 from 以久遠氏』2007.7.24〕 「消えた年金」や「新潟中 越沖地震」等々、問題や災害が起こるたび安倍総理は決まって「スピード感をもって…」という言い方をする。誰にも独特な言い回しや好きな言葉はあるものだが、安倍総理のはご本人は理解されているのだろうとは思うが、まるで「安倍語」で他人には理解し難い。……

  それから、企業や仕事やらで、重要視されることとして、さまざまな記事――

スピード感とは - ウーマンキャリア 女性の転職サイト <http://www.w-career.jp/requirement/5.html> 
物事を速く、的確に判断し、決断を下す能力のことを表し、計画を迅速に実行に移す能力を指す場合に良く使われます。
目標に向けて最短のスケジュールで業務が進行するように、業務効率化を図る必要があります。
スケジュールを区切って、決められた時に決められたタスクが終わるよう、無駄を省いて業務を行いましょう。新しい技術が次々と開発されるIT業界では、ス ピード感が無いと業界の流れに追いつくのが大変になるでしょう。
【よくある記載パターン】

スピード感のある方
スピード感をもって決断・実行できる方
スピード感を持って業務に取り組める方 [・・・・・・]

今、スピード感のある企画書が求められている~はじめに:企業のIT・経営・ビジネスをつなぐ情報サイト EnterpriseZine 〔藤木俊明(広末涼子やハンカチ王子の遠い先輩) 2007.11.20〕 <http://enterprisezine.jp/article/detail/230> 
ビジネスのスピードが加速している現代では、クライアントも忙しい。自分だって忙しい。そんな中、求められる企画書スタイルとは「スピード感」だと思います。この連載では、『「速く」「通る」企画書をつくるために、すぐに使える技術』を解説していきます。
EnterpriseZine01.gif

スピード感 - 成長し続ける企業に!サービス業専門社労士日記(第712回)  <http://www.soumunomori.com/column/article/atc-138819/>  〔総務の森 - コラムの泉 - おはようございます と複合的なページ?  つぎのリクツは、なんだか感覚的にだましているだけみたいなw〕
差がつけれるとすればスピードとスピード感だけとなります。 スピードとスピード感覚は違っているのです。 ご依頼を頂いてすぐに処理して納品をすることはスピードです。 このスピードが早ければ早いほどお客様には喜ばれます。 そしてもう一つ喜ばれるものがあります。それはスピード感です。 ご依頼を頂いてすぐに処理して納品をすれば問題はないのですが どうしても業務が集中してすぐに処理できない場合があります。 そんな場合にすぐにこのように答えるとスピード感が増すのです。 「本来であれば明日にも納品できるのですがちょっと現在業務が立て込んでいて  申し訳ございませんが2日後の水曜日に納品させて下さい」 と伝えるのです。 事前に納期をきちんと報告すると お客様の方で商品は納品されていないのにスピード感があると 感じてくれるようです。

  また、スポーツ関係で出てくるのはまあそうでしょうねー、という感じ。

ソフトボールは野球以上のスピード感 <http://sportsdouganews.blog134.fc2.com/blog-entry-5.html>  〔スポーツ豆知識辞典 2010.7.18 つぎの記事「小野伸二選手のデート画像流出?」がなぜ豆知識なのか不明〕

グリーンを読む時の注意点 - ゴルフ日記(ショートゲーム編) <http://www.mamejiten.com/golf/diary/S/093.html> 〔ゴルフ豆辞典。日記の日付なし。豆辞典とか豆知識辞典がはやっているのかしら〕
いずれにしても、練習グリーンでは まず 平らなグリーンのスピード感をチェックすること。そして、その後に下り、上りのグリーンのスピードをチェックするという順序でスピードのチェックをすると 良いだろう。また、基本的にパットのライン はグリーンの傾斜と速さによってほぼ決定するが、芝目のあるグリーンでは、その影響も受けるから、そうしたこともプレーを始める前に、コースを熟知した キャディーや同伴プレーヤーに確認しておくと良いだろう。 芝目のお話し

スピード感を養うためには ラウンド中の他のプレーヤーのパットを観察して、それぞれのパットが打たれた瞬間に、ボールがどこまで転がるかを予測するようにしてみると良いだろう。そうしたこともより正確なスピード感を養うために役立つはずだ。

 また、音楽関係で出てくるのはまあそうでしょうねー、という感じ。

【スピード感?】オーディオ用語辞典 <http://unkar.org/r/pav/1201075151> 〔「意味不明なオーディオ用語の意味と用例の地均しをしませんか?」との趣旨。2008.1月から4月。しかしどこが辞典なのか〕  

 また、文学関係で出てくるのは、ふーん、音楽とおんなじ感覚ねー、という感じ。細かくひっぱってくるのはめんどうくさいので、「Yahoo!百科事典」を引いてみる。これは小学館の『日本大百科全書』 (初版1984-89, 全25巻; 1994, 26巻) をもとにして2008年にウェブ公開されたもので、記事執筆者が記載されているけれど、詳しい情報がわからないので、いつ、どういう人によって書かれたかははっきりしません(調べればわかるかもしれないがあんまり興味ない・・・・・・でも将来のひまつぶしのために添えておこう)。――
「スピード感」を含む 「Yahoo!百科事典」の記事の検索結果 <http://100.search.yahoo.co.jp/search?ei=UTF-8&p=%E3%82%B9%E3%83%94%E3%83%BC%E3%83%89%E6%84%9F>
現代青年の虚無や不安をロマネスクな構成とスピード感ある明晰(めいせき)な文体で描いた (「五木寛之」 執筆者:松本鶴雄)
独特のスピード感をもつ文体がみごとである (コクトーの「『恐るべき子供たち』」 曽根元吉)
奇抜で斬新(ざんしん)な工夫着想、現代的なスピード感と格調ある文体が特色 (「五味康祐(ごみやすすけ)」 磯貝勝太郎)
むだを省いたスピード感のある即物的文体に特色がある (「柴田錬三郎」 磯貝勝太郎)
全編にわたりユーモアともウィットとも違う、「ギャグ」とでも呼ぶべき毒とスピード感のある笑いの種が埋めこまれることにより、作品にドライな活気が与えられている (「多和田葉子(たわだようこ)」 阿部公彦)

  最後の執筆者でわかったけれど、これらの記事の少なくともいくつかはごく近年のもののようです。

  もちろん文学作品以外にも「スピード感」は使われているのですけれど、体操競技の採点要素の「実施と演技力」に関して、「正確な技術の実施(体勢と姿勢、複数軸のひねりにおける局面の正確さ、アクロバット系と体操系における跳躍の要素、段違い平行棒の空中局面のある要素、跳馬での第2空中局面および終末技の高さ)、芸術的な表現、雄大な実施(スピード感、ダイナミックさ等)、そして演技全体のテンポとリズム等がここに含まれる。」と書かれているのが目を引きました(全体の日本語のヘンな感じなのも目を引いたのですけれど)。(「体操競技 - 審判員と採点規則・女子」 三輪康廣)


  また、例によって、「人力検索」に質問と答えが積み上げられていました。しかし、そのなかに、たいへん詳しい説明があり、感心したのでした。――

教えて!Ziddyちゃん - 「スピード感」という言葉 <http://ziddy.japan.zdnet.com/qa3405347.html>  〔ZDNet Japan 2007.10.6 の質問<「スピード感」という言葉は誰が使い始めたのでしょうか。>に対する gootaroh さんからのベストアンサー (10.9) Q&A〕 冒頭で「検索した限り、もっとも古いもの」は1977年10月25日の日経産業新聞の記事でしたと書かれていますが、あとのほうに国会質疑の記録として1957年4月19日の衆議院商工委員会、1963年2月20日の衆院予算委員会第一分科会の答弁などもっと古いものが引用されています。gootaroh さんの分類・分析は精確なものだと思いますし、つぎのようなコメントにも賛同します。――
ただ、「スピード感に乏しい」は表現としてはおかしくないと思いますが、よく政治・行政関係で用いられる「スピード感を持って対処」などは違和感を持ちます。[・・・・・・]要するに「戦略的施策を早急に展開」といえばいいところを、「スピード感を持って」というのはいかがなものか、と思います。なんだか、電車における「この電車は、5分ほどの遅れを持って運転しています」というアナウンスのような違和感を持ってしまいます。「遅れています」でいいやんけ!と思ってしまうのです。

 

  この記事、昨年末からの持ち越しなのですが、あらためて検索をかけると、

1月10日、 大船渡を視察した野田首相は、

仮設住宅などを訪れ、「復興庁と震災特区をフル活用し、スピード感を持って被災者の声に 応えたい」と意気込みを語り、野田首相が大船渡を視察 「スピード感持って対応」 『岩手日報 Webニュース』〕

震災から10か月となる11日、

津波で大きな被害を受けた岩手県宮古市では、山本正徳市長が、防災行政無線を通じて、 「復興に向け、スピード感を持って突き進んでいきます」と市民に呼びかけ、〔宮古市長“復興にスピード感を” NHKニュース

13日、野田首相は、

首相官邸で改造内閣発足後初の記者会見を行い、国会議員の定数削減について、「もっとスピード感を もってやるべきだと思う」と述べ、〔「定数削減にスピード感」/首相 増税法案提出前にも結論 しんぶん『赤旗』2012.1.14〕

スピード感を強調する首相をまわりもスピード感をもって強調しているのでした。

////////////////////////////////////////

スピード感のある描写とは? 小説作法

<www.raitonoveru.jp/howto/126a.html>

 

910048e6.jpg
通行人 もビックリ…停まっているのにスピード感いっぱいのベンツ
 image via らばQ 2011.11.26 <http://labaq.com/archives/51715516.html>


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ポーが書評した本 (11) 『北米評論』 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (11): _North American Review_ (April 1835) [ポーの書評 Poe's Book Reviews]

本じゃなくて雑誌なんですけれど、入れちゃいます。同時代の雑誌自体の様子を見るのも意味があるかと思いますし。

North American Review.  April, 1835 (vol. 40, no. 87)

『ノース・アメリカン・レヴュー』 1835年4月号 (第40巻、87号)

NorthAmericanReview(April1835).jpg

A)  E-text at Internet Archive [University of Pittsburgh Library System]
Volume: v.40:no.86/87
Subject: North American review and miscellaneous journal
Publisher: Boston: O. Everett <http://www.archive.org/stream/northamericanrev408687bost#page/268/mode/2up>

B)  E-texts at Making of America by Cornell University Library <http://digital.library.cornell.edu/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=nora;cc=nora;view=toc;subview=short;idno=nora0040-2>

Contents
 
Politics of Europe
Coleridge
National Gallery
Italy
Immigration
Popular Education

 

  ポーの(じゃないかもしらんのだけれど)「書評」は、前の記事の(9)と(10) と同じく、『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』誌の1835年4月号の "Critical Notices"中のものです。一覧を並べておくと以下の18のreview が載ったのでした。――

    * Review of Washington Irving's The Crayon Miscellany [これはポーではなくて "Sparhawk" の筆であるとほぼ確定しています]
    * Review - North American Review
    * Review - The London Quarterly Review
    * Review of Jacob H. Drew - The Life, Character, and Literary Labours of Samuel Drew, A. M.
    * Review of Henry Lee - The Life of the Emperor Napoleon
    * Review of George H. Borrow - Celebrated Trials of All Countries
    * Review of Andrew Reed - No Fiction.  A Narrative founded on recent and interesting facts
    * Review of Laure Saint-Martin Junot - Memoirs of Celebrated Women of All Countries
    * Review of Charlotte Anley - Influence, a Moral Tale
    * Review of Charles Whitehead - Lives and Exploits of English Highwaymen, Pirates and Robbers
    * Review of Laughton Osborn - Confessions of a Poet
    * Review - The Language of Flowers
    * Review of Maria and Richard Lovell Edgeworth - Practical Education
    * Review of James B. Fraser - The Highland Smugglers
    * Review of John G. Lockhart - Valerius
    * Review - An Account of Col. Crockett's Tour to the North and Down East
    * Review of Susanna Warfield - Illorar de Courcy
    * Review of Charles Fenno Hoffman - A Winter in the West

  North American Review [NAR] はボストンで1815年に発刊されたアメリカの最初の総合文芸誌で、1930年代末に休刊になったのが1960年代に復刊されて現在も刊行されている、伝統のある雑誌です (NAR Home Page <http://www.northamericanreview.org/>。ボストン文壇と敵対したポーにとっては二重の意味でライバル雑誌ということになるでしょうか。

  評者はまず16年前に出たブルクハルトの本の評論が今出ることについて、アメリカの出版状況と批評のありようについて触れます(これは後年のポーの「『ヘリコン山のざわめき』」評 (1841) とか「書評欄への年頭の辞」(1842) と響きあうところあるように思われ)。それからいくつかの評論について長短のコメントを加えています。個人的に興味深いのはコールリッジに関して、"psychological" と (自分の読みが間違っていなければ心理学を指して) "science" という言葉を使ってあれこれ長く書いているところ。不当な評価だと文句がつけられている『ポンペイ最後の日』を書いたブルワー=リットンの才能をポーは高く買っていて、いくつも評論を書くことになることも思い出しました(まあ、褒(ほ)めたり貶(けな)したりという対象かもしれませんけど)。

     North American Review.―The April number is for the most part excellent.  But we are forcibly reminded by it of a defect in the Reviews of this country, which it seems to us, might with some little exertion, be remedied.  The fault to which we allude, is their tardiness in noticing the publications of the day. In this number of the North American, we find several pages devoted to a review of Burkhardt's Travels in Africa, which have been before the public sixteen years, while the crowd of new works of undoubted merit which fill our book stores, have not as yet, with but few exceptions, attracted the attention of the reviewers.  In this book-making age, we are aware that it is impossible for a Quarterly to review the twentieth part of the productions constantly issuing from the press: but if, as we suppose, it is the design of these periodicals to direct the taste of the public in every department of science and literature, surely they should contain reviews of such works selected from the mass, as are best worthy of attention; and should endeavor to keep pace with the stream of publication.  We can see little value in a review of a book after every reading man in the community has perused it, and formed his opinion upon its merits.  Thus to lag behind the march of current literature, deprives the criticisms of the reviewer of much of their value and weight.  In the instance of which we have alluded, it might well be asked whether the travels of Burkhardt, English reviews of which we read ten or twelve, or more years ago, could have the same claim upon the public interest as the newer works of Burnes, Jacquemont, Bennet and many others, whose books possess the charm of novelty?  We subjoin the contents of the April number:    1. Politics of Europe :   2. Coleridge :   3. Mineral Springs of Nassau :  4. Life of G. D. Boardman :   5. National Gallery :   6. Italy :   7. Last Days of Pompeii :   8. Immigration :   9. Burkhardt's Travels in Africa :   10. Popular Education.

     The first article contains a spirited review of the political events in France since the revolution of 1830, and of the foreign and internal policy of Louis Phiippe.  The progress of the juste milieu system is well delineated, and a forcible picture is drawn of the present postue of the French government.  We do not entirely coincide with the writer's ideas of the onward course of the cause of liberty, (or perhaps more correctly, of revolution) in France; but consider the article generally correct and instructive.  That on Coleridge is admirable: and we heartily rejoice that in a work so much looked up to in England as is the North American, for the expression of our literary opinions, justice so ample should have been done to that extraordinary mind.  A Baltimore newspaper, in allusion to the article in question, speaks of "the pitiful shifts to which the reviewer is driven to account for a fact which he admits, viz.―that there is but here and there an individual who understands him," [Coleridge.]  "What stronger proof do we want," says the journalist, "of that confusion of thought and mysticism with which he has been charged?"  We think far stronger proofs are necessary to support the accusation.  That but few comprehend the metaphysical treatises of Coleridge, is owing to the simple fact, that few are so thoroughly versed in psychological knowledge as to maintain a position in the van of the science, the post universally acceded to Coleridge by the learned in ethics.  It is for this class of men that he has written, and in whose applauses he has received a plentiful reward.  These, at least, will not hesitate to say that so far from being justly charged with confusion of thought, and its consequence confusion of expression, no man who ever lived thought more distinctly even when thinking wrong, or more intimately felt and comprehended the power of the niceties of words.  That his philosophical disquisitions are abstruse, is the fault of the subjects, and not of the language in which he has treated them, than which none can be more lucid or appropriate.

     The article on Italy is interesting―also that on the National Gallery.  In the notice of the Last Days of Pompeii, justice is by no means done to that most noble of modern novels.   [Southern Literary Messenger, April 1835: 458]

////////////////////////////////////////

The Norh American Review [Browse Journals] @Cornell University Library Making of America Collection <http://digital.library.cornell.edu/n/nora/nora.html>  〔Volumes:1-171, and two INDEX vols. (1815 - 1900)〕

 


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ポーが書評した本 (12) 『ロンドン・クウォータリー・レヴュー』 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (12): _London Quarterly Review_ (February 1835) [ポーの書評 Poe's Book Reviews]

前の記事「ポーが書評した本 (11) 『北米評論』 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (11): _North American Review_ (April 1835)」に続いて、ポーの最初期の批評(と想定されている文章)の中から、他の雑誌の紹介記事(『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』誌1835年4月号 "Critical Notices" 458ページ)。

London Quarterly Review (American Edition).  February and April, 1835 (vol. 53).  New York: Theodore Foster.

『ロンドン・クウォータリー・レヴュー』 1835年2・4月号 (第53巻)

LondonQuarterlyReview,AmericanEdition(February1835).JPG

下のE-textはGoogle Booksでなんとか見つけ出したもの。―― ;

  と、苦労して貼り付けたのち、探索をつづけたらば、 Hathi Trust Digital Library というディジタル・ライブラリーに、インディアナ大学図書館とニューヨーク市立図書館所蔵のオリジナルに基づく、2種類の通巻に近いようすの電子ファイルがありました。

  数字がばらばらなのは、volume 53 = numbers 105+106みたいな関係みたいです。

   この雑誌についてアレコレ調べて書きたいのですけれど、長くなりそうなので(もう十分長くなっているので)、イギリスの数種の雑誌の記事をもらってきてアメリカ版として編集したもの、とだけ記しておきます(ポーの説明だと、"the excellent American Edition of the London, Edinburg, Foreign and Westminster Reviews, combined")。

  この雑誌でもコールリッジがとりあげられていますけれど(『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』の(ポーの)書評は、雑誌の装丁や体裁以外はもっぱらコールリッジの記事しかとりあげていません)、ロマン派第一世代のコールリッジ Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1772-1834(年7月25日) は、第二世代のキーツ John Keats, 1795-1821 やシェリーPercy Bysshe Shelley, 1792-1822 が若死にしたあとも長生きして、 この『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』誌の記事の前年の夏に亡くなっていたのでした。

///////////////////////////////

     The London Quarterly Review for February, American Edition, No. 1, Vol. 2. is printed on good paper, with excellent type.  It contains,  1. Wanderings in New South Wales, by Geroge Bennet, Esq.  F. L. S. Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons :   2. Correspondence of Victor de Jacquemont :   3. Population of Great Britain and Ireland :   4. Coleridge's Table Talk :   5. Egypt and Thebes :   6. Rush on the Prophesies :   7. The Church and the Voluntary System :   8. Recent German Belles Lettres : 9   England, France, Russia and Turkey :   10. Sir Robert Peel's Address.  The eighth article contains muchh information on a subject with which Americans are, for the most part, indifferently conversant.  Coleridge's Table Talk is highly interesting, as every authentic fragment of his sentiments and opinions must be.  The work reviewed in this article, is published by Mr. Henry Coleridge, a near relative of the departed philosopher and poet, and is made up from notes of numerous conversations, taken down by the publisher immediately after their occurence.  They bear the impress of Coleridge's mind, will be read with interest by all classes, and probably do more to make the general reader acquainted with him and his opinions, than all else that has been written. ―We take this opportunity of noticing the excellent American Edition of the London, Edinburg, Foreign and Westminster Reviews, combined.  It does much honor to Mr. Foster of New York, the publisher; and the compression of matter is such, without being printed too fine, as to give to subscribers for the sum of eight dollars, these four periodicals for which upwards of twenty dollars was formerly paid.  The paper, type, and excution, are good. [Southern Literary Messenger, April 1835: 458]


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ポーが書評した本 (13) 『皇帝ナポレオンの生涯』 第1巻 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (13): _The Life of the Emperor Napoleon_ by H. Lee (1835) [ポーの書評 Poe's Book Reviews]

続いて、ポーの最初期の批評(と想定されている文章)の中から、順番でいうと、雑誌紹介2篇に続く『サミュエル・ドル―伝』のつぎの記事(『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』誌1835年4月号 "Critical Notices" 458ページ)。

The Life of the Emperor Napoleon.  Vol. 1.  By H. Lee.  New York: Charles de Behr, 1835.  xvi + 586pp.

H・リー著 『皇帝ナポレオンの生涯』  ニューヨーク: チャールズ・ド・ベア、1835年

長いタイトルは、The Life of the Emperor Napoleon: with an appendix, containing an examination of Sir W. Scott's "Life of Napoleon Bonaparte;" and a notice of the principal errors of other writers, respecting his character and conduct (1835)

Lee,LifeoftheEmperorNapoleon(DeBehr,1835).JPG

Lee,LifeoftheEmperorNapoleon (DeBehr,1835).JPG

E-text at Internet Archive [Columbia University Libraries; MSN] <http://www.archive.org/stream/lifeofemperornap01leeh#page/n11/mode/2up>

  書評は、この本が他のナポレオン伝記作家(とりわけウォルター・スコット Walter Scott, 1771-1832 〔The Life of Napoleon Buonaparte (1827)〕とジョン・ギブソン・ロックハート John Gibson Lockhart, 1794-1854 〔History of Napoleon (1829); ちなみに1820年にスコットの娘婿になり Memoirs of the Life of Walter Scott (1837-38) を書くことになるスコットランドの著述家〕)、のあまたある誤りを訂正するものとして出版されており興味をそそること、そして検出・訂正された間違いはなるほど重大なものがたくさんあるのだけれど、たいてい著者は露骨に批判をし、揚げ足取りの霊にあやつられているようで残念に思われること、とりわけサァ・ウォルター・スコットに対する酷評の調子には異議を禁じえないこと(もっとやらかいことばのほうが目的を美しいものとしただろうこと、を述べ、最後に、この本の書評を準備したのだけれども、それは次号に延期せざるを得なかったと書いています。

  しかし、その後の『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』誌に、書評が載ることはありませんでした。また、原著は「第1巻」となっていますが、第2巻が出ることもなかったのでした。

  著者のヘンリー・リー Henry Lee, 1787-1837 はアメリカ人で、トマス・ジェファーソンやアンドルー・ジャクソンなどアメリカ人の本も書いている人です(ジャクソンが大統領になるときにブレインとして動き、就任演説も執筆したとか、また、1830年ごろからはフランスで過ごし、客死したとか)。〔Internet Archive の検索結果 <http://www.archive.org/search.php?query=creator%3A%22Lee%2C+Henry%2C+1787-1837%22>/Open Library <http://openlibrary.org/authors/OL1964405A/Lee_Henry>〕また、例によってかどうか、この本の安易なリプリント版が各社から現在出ているようです。<http://www.amazon.co.jp/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?__mk_ja_JP=%83J%83%5E%83J%83i&url=search-alias%3Denglish-books&field-keywords=Henry+Lee&x=0&y=0#/ref=nb_sb_noss?__mk_ja_JP=%E3%82%AB%E3%82%BF%E3%82%AB%E3%83%8A&url=search-alias%3Denglish-books&field-keywords=Henry+Lee++Napoleon&rh=n%3A52033011%2Ck%3AHenry+Lee++Napoleon>

     The Life of the Emperor Napoleon, Vol. 1, by H. Lee.  New York, Charles De Behr.  This work has great merits and remarkable faults.  Published ostensibly as a corrector of the numerous errors of other biographers of Napoleon, and especially those of Sir Walter Scott and Lockhart, it cannot but be read with interest.  The errors detected and set right, are numerous and important.  In most instances Mr. Lee clearly makes out his charges―in some we are sorry to see that he seems to be governed by a spirit of captiousness: And we cannot but object to the tone of his strictures upon Sir Walter Scott.  Milder language would better have graced his cause.  We have prepared a review of this work, which we are compelled to postopone to the next number of the Messenger. [Southern Literary Messenger, April 1835: 458]


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ポーが書評した本 (14) 『万国著名裁判』 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (14): _Celebrated Trials of all Countries_ (1835) [ポーの書評 Poe's Book Reviews]

続いて、ポーの最初期の批評(と想定されている文章)の中から、順番でいうと、雑誌紹介2篇に続く『サミュエル・ドル―伝』のつぎの『ナポレオン伝』のつぎの記事(『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』誌1835年4月号 "Critical Notices" 458ページ)。

Celebrated Trials of all Countries, and remarkable cases of Criminal Jurisprudence, selected by a Member of the Philadelphia Bar.   Philadelphia: E. L. Carey and A. Hart.   596pp.

フィラデルフィア法曹界の一人が選んだ 『万国著名裁判と際立った犯罪判決事例』  フィラデルフィア: E・L・ケアリーとA・ハート、1835年

CelebratedTrials(1835)title.jpg
E-text @Internet Archive [Lincoln Financial Collection; The Institute of Museum and Library Services through an Indiana State Library LSTA Grant] <http://www.archive.org/stream/celebratedtrials00smit#page/n3/mode/2up>

  Burton Pollin and Josephh V. Ridgely, ed., Writings in The Southern Literary Messenger (New York: Gordian, 1997) は、匿名の著者を [George H. Borrow] と補っているのだけれど、Internet Archive はこぞって John Jay Smith (1798-1881) を著者としています。その典拠はCohen, M.L. のBibliography of Early American Law という文献目録にあるらしい。

  評者(ポーでなければSparhawk)は、犯罪の裁判記録は新聞に散在したり古い報告書の中に埋没したりして、一般読者にはほとんど近づきがたいものとなっているので、このような本はおおいに望まれていたものだ、と述べます。1588年から現在にいたる内容には、サァ・ウォルター・ローリー (Sir Walter Raleigh, 1552-1618) 〔エリザベス女王にかわいがられたけれどジェイムズ1世の時代になって反逆罪に問われ処刑〕、ストラフォード (1st Earl of Strafford, 1593-1641) 〔チャールズ1世の腹心として専制政治を助けたため長期議会の弾劾を受け処刑〕、など有名な裁判から、その他興味深く、歴史的な価値のあるものまで豊富だけれど、時間順序ということをまったく考慮せずにまとめられているのが残念なところで、編者は選んだだけであとは印刷に任したのではないか。配列 (arrangement) に難がある。犯罪の判例の歴史とは、市民の自由の進歩の、そして、人間精神の拡大の、歴史であるのだから、残念なのだ。続刊がほのめかされているけれど、この欠点が修正されることを望みたい、と〆ています。

  1588年の記録というのはいわゆる魔女裁判で、witch として告発された人について短く紹介しているものですけれど、記述の中身は薄いとはいえ魔女裁判に関しては554ページから575ページにわたって、記載されています(アメリカのセイレムの魔女狩りについてはほんの少しだけ)。だから88扱った裁判のうち15が魔女がらみ。

Celebrated Trials of all Countries, and remarkable cases of Criminal Jurisprudence, selected by a Member of the Philadelphia Bar. Philadelphia, E. L. Carey and A. Hart.  Such a book as this was much wanted.  The records of criminal trials were scattered through the newspapers or buried in some huge tomes of antique law reports, almost inaccessible to the ordinary reader.  And this book seems fitted to supply the deficiency to a considerable extent.  It is a large octavo, and contains a selection of criminal trials from the early period of 1588, down to the present day, among them some of the most celebrated cases on record, such as that of Sir Walter Raleigh in 1602, of the Earl of Strafford in 1643, of Alexis Petrowitz Czarowitz in 1815, of the rebels, Kilmarnock, Cromartie, Balmerino, &c. in 1745, and others of equal interest―the judicial proceedings in relation to which, belong to history.  The contents of the work are highly interesting, but we cannot withhold our censure of their arrangement.  The trials are huddled together without the slightest attention to chronological order; and it would seem that the gentleman of the Philadelphia Bar, who is made responsible for the compilation of the work, could merely have selected the several cases leaving the printer to arrange them as he pleased.  The consequence is, that the reader finds himself shifting backward and forward, from century to century, in a complete medley of dates.  This is to be lamented, because the history of criminal jurisprudence is a history of the progress of civil liberty, and of the expansion of the human mind.  And the interest which we find in tracing the progress of just and equitable rules in the trials of malefactors, is marked by this defect of arrangement.  As future volumes of this work are partly promised, it is to be hoped that in them this fault will be amended.  [Southern Literary Messenger, April 1835: 458]


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ジョン・ジェイ・スミスを探して (1) Going after John Jay Smith [文法問題]

前の記事「ポーが書評した本 (14) 『万国著名裁判』 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (14): _Celebrated Trials of all Countries_ (1835)」 [ポー の書評 Poe's Book Reviews]で、名前が出たジョン・ジェイ・スミス。ポー学者のポーリンは、「フィラデルフィアの法曹界のひとり」という匿名の著者を [George H. Borrow] と補っているのだけれど、Internet Archive はこぞって John Jay Smith (1798-1881) を著者としていたのでした。名前が司書か本屋かによって書き込まれた本もあります。――

CelebratedTrials(1836).jpg
Rpt. Philadelphia: Godey, 1836

  ジョン・スミスというと『あしながおじさん』のつながりであれこれ〔「ジョ ン・スミスという名前 John Smith」「ロング・レッグズ船長、ジョン・スミス船長、ジョン・シルヴァー船長 Cap'n Long-Legs, Cap'n John Smith, Cap'n John Silver」「ジョ ン・スミスの『海の文法』 (1627) A Sea Grammar by John Smith (1627)」など〕書いたように、ありがちな名前なわけですけれど、ジェイが付いてるし、とりあえず調べてみようかと思いました。

  で、まず、Wikipedia がらみで目に留まったのは、本人ではなくて、Robert Pearsall Smith というフィラデルフィアの人。

Robert Pearsall Smith (1827-1898) was a lay leader in the Holiness movement in the United States and the Higher Life movement in Great Britain. His book Holiness Through Faith (1870) is one of the foundational works of the Holiness movement. He was also a businessman in the Philadelphia area, publishing maps and managing a glass factory.<http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Pearsall_Smith>

  Holiness movement と Higher Life movement のリーダー(といっても、アメリカの、かつ "lay" 庶民の、民間での、という形容辞が付いてますけど)のひとりだったのね。〔「ホーリネス運動」のウィキペディア記事はもっぱら日本での「きよめ」派の系譜が書かれていて、興味深いです。〕 

  そして、記事本文に入って、Early Life の冒頭に父親の名前がJohn Jay Smith と出てきます。――

Smith,RobertPearsall(Wikipedia).JPG

   ロバート・パーサル・スミスはジョン・ジェイ・スミスとレイチェル・パーサルの息子。家系はペンシルヴェニア州とニュージャージー州の有力なクウェイカーの長くつづく家柄で、彼は、フィラデルフィアで最初の保険会社を創始し、フィラデルフィア病院の創設者のひとりであったジョン・スミスの子孫であった。

  John Jay Smith は青字になっておらず、ウィキペディアの記事はないのでした。

  で、急遽、文法問題ですが、"Descended was from" はおかしいですねー。たぶん分詞構文(過去分詞構文)で、主節は "he was a descendent of John Smith . . . " なのでしょう。あるいは倒置で、 "Descended was he from" という気持ちだったと言えなくもないと思う人もいるかもしれないが、だとすると、he の前に and とか接続詞が必要になりますから、やっぱり分詞構文で、にもかかわらず was が残ってしまった、か補われてしまった。

Robert Pearsall Smith was the son of John Jay Smith and Rachel Pearsall. Descended was from long line of influential Quakers, in Pennsylvania and New Jersey, he was a descendant of John Smith, who started one of the first insurance companies in Philadelphia and was one of the founders of the Philadelphia Hospital. 

  それにしても descended と descendant は意味が重複 (redundant) しているから、へたくそな文章です。それにJohn Smith が出てくるまで、その長い家系というのがどっちなのか(Smith なのか Pearsallなのか)わからないのもよくなく、「スミス家は・・・・・・」と書くべきなんじゃなかろうか。


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ジョン・ジェイ・スミスを探して (2) Going after John Jay Smith [Marginalia 余白に]

〔前の前の記事「ポーが書評した本 (14) 『万国著名裁判』 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (14): _Celebrated Trials of all Countries_ (1835)」で名前が出たジョン・ジェイ・スミス。ポー学者のポーリンは、「フィラデルフィアの法曹界のひとり」という匿名の著者を [George H. Borrow] と補っているのだけれど、Internet Archive はこぞって John Jay Smith (1798-1881) を著者としていたのでした。〕

  ジョン・ジェイ・スミスを探して、フィラデルフィア郊外のハヴァフォード大学の図書館 Haverford College Library の特別コレクションに "the John Jay Smith Papers, 1683-1859" が所蔵されているのがわかりました。pdf 文書 <http://www.haverford.edu/library/special/aids/smith/smithjohnjay900.pdf>。といっても "0.5 linear feet" 〔あれっ? 小数だとfoot じゃなくてfeet でしたっけ〕で、document box はひとつだけ。 Logan Pearsall Smith から寄贈されたものとのこと。とまれ、その紹介Webページに詳しい伝記が載っていた(引用されていた)ので孫引きします。適当にリンクもはります(第一段落では、前の記事で引用したウィキペディアの記事の記述、「ロバート・パーサル・スミスはジョン・ジェイ・スミスとレイチェル・パーサルの息子。家系はペンシルヴェニ ア州とニュージャージー州の有力なクウェイカーの長くつづく家柄で、彼は、フィラデルフィアで最初の保険会社を創始し、フィラデルフィア病院の創設者のひ とりであったジョン・スミスの子孫であった。」――このぎこちない日本語は原文によるw――が、より詳しく書かれています)――

John Jay Smith (1798 - 1881) was an editor and librarian, a grand-nephew of Richard Smith and a grandson of John Smith, one of the founders of the Philadelphia Contributionship (1752), the first fire-insurance company instituted in America, and of Hannah (Logan) Smith, daughter of James Logan, 1674-1751.  The son of John and Gulielma Maria (Morris) Smith, he was born on a farm at Green Hill, Burlington County, N.J.  John Jay Smith attended the Friends' boarding school at Westtown, Pa.〔Friends はいわゆるクウェーカー〕, and was given some courses in languages at an early age.  He was then apprenticed to a druggist in Philadelphia.  After a brief partnership with Solomon Temple in the wholesale drug business, he entered business on his own account, and in 1821, married Rachel Collins Pearsall.  He was active in the establishment of a line of Conestoga wagons, operating as regular carriers between Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, but the enterprise was short-lived.

In 1827, in partnership with George Taylor, he inaugurated the Pennsylvania Gazette.  Two years later he became librarian of the Library Company of Philadelphia; he was a hereditary trustee of the Loganian Library, one of its component parts.  Through his taste and industry, he gathered for the institution a large collection of autographs and manuscripts relating to the history of New Jersey and Pennsylvania.〔1827年の雑誌『ペンシルヴェニア・ガゼット』の創始とフィラデルフィア・ライブラリー・カンパニーの運営・資料蒐集など〕

In the early thirties, Smith suggested the republication of important foreign books in the form of a cheap weekly, to Adam Waldie, a Philadelphia printer.  Waldie's Select Circulating Library, under Smith's editorship, could be circulated through the mails.  This was the first effort in America on an extensive scale to take advantage of the absence of international copyright.  Within three months the work had a circulation of 6,000 copies a week, and for some years it enjoyed great success.  During 1835, Smith also edited the Museum of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art.  He was treasurer of the Philadelphia Museum and a founder of the Girard Life Insurance, Annuity, and Trust Company and of Laurel Hill Cemetery.  During the laying out of the cemetery, his interest in landscape gardening was deepened, and he afterwards edited (1850-51) The North American Sylva 2, 3 北米の樹木についての本だけど、デジタル化が不鮮明で残念〕by François André Michaux and the eleventh edition (1857) of The American Gardener's Calendar by Bernard McMahon.  He also published Designs for Monuments and Mural Tablets . . . With a Preliminary Essay on the Laying Out, Planting, and Managing of Cemeteries (1846) and Guide to Laurel Hill Cemetery (1844), which went through seven editions in his lifetime.〔1830年代。国際コピーライトがないことを逆に利用してアメリカで外国の本を出版する試みや、1835年の雑誌『外国文学・科学・芸術ミュージアム』の編集や、フィラデルフィア・ミュージアムの仕事や生命保険会社の設立や、ローレル・ヒル墓地の運営や、それに伴う「風景庭園術」 (landscape gardening) への関心など〕

Smith contributed articles on Benjamin Franklin, David Rittenhouse, William Augustine Washington, and Simon Kenton to The National Portrait Gallery of Distinguished Americans (1834-39).  Meanwhile, in 1845, his son, Lloyd Pearsall Smith had begun the publication of Smith's Weekly Volume, a successor to Waldie's, and this publication was edited by the elder Smith from January 1845 to Mar. 25, 1846.  He made four trips to Europe, describing one in [A] Summer's Jaunt across the Water (2 vols., 1846).  In 1851 he retired from his librarianship so that his son Lloyd might be appointed in his place.  His later literary work included the editing of Letters of Dr. Richard Hill (1854) and the authorship of a volume of entertaining gossip, written for his children, which was edited by his daughter and privately printed in 1892 under the title, Recollections of John Jay Smith Written by Himself.  Smith died at his estate, "Ivy Lodge," Germantown, at the age of eighty-three.  He had four sons and three daughters; Hannah Whitall Smith was his daughter-in-law.〔1830年代後半の伝記記事寄稿、1840年代の渡欧と紀行文 (1846年)。1851年のライブラリー会社からの引退。『リチャード・ヒル博士書簡集』 (1854年)の刊行。死後出版 (1892年)されることになる、身内にむけた文章の執筆など〕

From: "John Jay Smith."Dictionary of American Biography Base Set. American Council of Learned Societies, 1928-1936.  Biography Resource Center.

   リンクは主に著作に付けましたが、記載のなかには例の本は入っていません。冒頭の家系の記載で出てくるジェームズ・ローガンというのはアメリカ最初の貸し出し図書館 (lending library) といわれる Logan Library の創始者ですけど、ジョン・ジェイ・スミスは、そのローガンの娘の血筋を受けてもいて、巡回図書館やらの事業をフィラデルフィアでやっていたのでした。しかし、法律関係の言及はないですねー。なんだかわからなくなりました。 

  しかし、自伝的な本『ジョン・ジェイ・スミス自身により書かれた回想録』が、死後に、娘が編集して出版されていることがわかりましたので、それを調べてみることにします。

          31013q2rWbL._SL500_AA300_.jpg

/////////////////////////////////////////////

Free e-books written by Smith, J. Jay (John Jay), 1798-1881.  OnRead.com <http://www.onread.com/writer/Smith-J-Jay-John-Jay-1798-1881-92431/>


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モリス・L・コーエンの『初期アメリカ法文献目録』 Morris L. Cohen, _ Bibliography of Early American Law_ [ひまつぶし]

前の前の前の記事「ポーが書評した本 (14) 『万国著名裁判』 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (14): _Celebrated Trials of all Countries_ (1835)」で名前が出たジョン・ ジェイ・スミスを探して二つ記事を書きました。ポー学者のポーリンは、「フィラデルフィアの法曹界のひとり」という匿名の著者を [George H. Borrow] と補っている(Burton Pollin and Josephh V. Ridgely, ed., Writings in The Southern Literary Messenger (New York: Gordian, 1997) )のだけれど、Internet Archive はこぞって John Jay Smith (1798-1881) を著者としていたのでした。その典拠はCohen, M.L. のBibliography of Early American Law という文献目録にあるらしい。

  それで、ふとデキゴコロを起こしてCohen のほうにあたってみることにしました。M. L. Cohen は Morris L. Cohen というイェール大学ロー・スクールの名誉教授だった人で、2010年に亡くなっています。追悼記事――

"Remembering Morris L. Cohen" (Tuesday, December 21st, 2010 by jwooten; University of Buffalo Law Library Blog) <http://libweb.lib.buffalo.edu/blog/law/?p=973>

"In memoriam: Morris L. Cohen (1927-2010)" (Tuesday, December 21, 2010 9:19 AM by Mike Widener; Yale Law Library - Rare Books Blog) <http://blogs.law.yale.edu/blogs/rarebooks/archive/2010/12/21/in-memoriam-morris-l-cohen-1927-2010.aspx>

  それで、ふとアマゾンで調べてみたら――

Cohen,M.L.,BibliographyOfEarlyAmericanLaw.JPG

<http://www.amazon.co.jp/Bibliography-Early-American-Morris-Cohen/dp/1575882337>

   36万円かよ!、6ページかよ! と、むかしの「ポチ (その5) Pochi」を思い出したのでした。

  しかし、ウィキペディアにも載っているコーエンさん Morris L. Cohen, 1927-2010 の業績を眺めると、1998年に刊行された『初期アメリカ法文献目録』は30年に及ぶ労苦のすえの6巻本の大著だったのでした(Cohen authored A Bibliography of Early American Law in 1998, a six-volume tome that he had worked on for over three decades that provided a comprehensive catalog of all legal works published in the United States before 1860.[1][3])。ついでながら、カッコの中のウィキペディアの英文は、関係代名詞のthat が重なって下手な文ですね。書名のA も不要で不注意。

  [3]Yale Daily News のobituary 記事 "Morris Cohen, law librarian and Yale Law professor, dies" を読むと、1860年以前にアメリカで刊行された法律関係の本を網羅した文献カタログだそうです。

   第3巻のGoogle ブックスの書誌情報ページ <http://books.google.co.jp/books/about/Bibliography_of_early_American_law.html?id=brw6AQAAIAAJ&redir_esc=y> 〔目次等あり。で、なぜか「6ページ」と記載されており。やれやれ〕

Cohen,M.L.,BibliographyOfEarlyAmericanLaw-Google.JPG

Cohen,M.L.,BibliographyOfEarlyAmericanLaw6volset.jpg
image: "Bibliography of Early American Law" Morris L. Cohen Yale Law School <http://www.lawbookexchange.com/beal.htm>

 


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ジョン・ジェイ・スミスとマイケル・ジャクソン――ジョン・ジェイ・スミスを探して (3) John Jay Smith and Michael Jackson: Going after John Jay Smith (3) [ひまつぶし]

の前の記事「ポーが書評した本 (14) 『万国著名裁判』 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (14): _Celebrated Trials of all Countries_ (1835)」で名前が出たジョン・ ジェイ・スミスを探して、最初にネット検索でたくさんかかったのは、マイケル・ジャクソン関係でした(例によってQ&Aが交わされている――例1("Who's JOHN JAY SMITH?" Yahoo! Answers)、例2("John Jay Smith on Simpsons as Michael Jackson?" askville))。

アニメ『ザ・シンプソンズ』の、1991年9月19日に最初に放送された "Stark Raving Dad" の回に、マイケル・ジャクソンがゲスト出演したときの出演クレジット名が John Jay Smith だったのでした。日本語のウィキペディアは書きかけの項目としてだけれど、「マイケルがやってきた!」という日本語DVD版のタイトル名になっています。

   マイケル・ジャクソンが声優を演じた役柄は、 Leon Kompowsky という、自分を小柄な黒人と思っている大柄の白人の男 ("big white guy who thinks he's the little black guy")で、メンタルに病んだ患者さん。ピンクのシャツを職場に着ていったために病院に入れられたホーマーと New Bedlam Insane Asylumで知り合って、マイケル・ジャクソンを知らないホーマーにマイケルの声マネをして勘違いされ・・・・・・

StarkRavingDad7f24.jpg
image via Wikisimpsons "Stark Raving Dad" <http://simpsonswiki.net/wiki/Stark_Raving_Dad>

Stark_Raving_Dad.PNG
image via Wikipedia "Stark Raving Dad" <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stark_Raving_Dad>

Michael-jackson.jpg
image via Wikisimpsons "Michael Jackson" <http://simpsonswiki.net/wiki/Michael_Jackson>

 

 

///////////////////////////////

Stark Raving Dad - The Simpsons on FOX Official Site <http://www.thesimpsons.com/#/recaps/season-3_episode-1> 〔重い~w〕

Stark Raving Dad - Wikipedia <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stark_Raving_Dad>

Michael Jackson - Wikisimpsons, the Simpsons Wiki <http://simpsonswiki.net/wiki/Michael_Jackson>

The Simpsons: Michael Jackson, a.k.a. John Jay Smith, has passed away today - The Simpsons Forums, TV.com <http://www.tv.com/shows/the-simpsons/forums/michael-jackson-a-k-a-john-jay-smith-has-passed-away-today-256-1295277/>

Michael Jackson - IMDb <http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001391/

The Simpsons (TV series)

Stark Raving Dad (1991) (writer: "Happy Birthday, Lisa" - uncredited, "Billie Jean" - uncredited, "Beat It" - uncredited) 〔ただし、アニメの中での歌は違うひとらしい〕

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ジョン・ジェイ・スミスを探して (4)――著作目録 Going after John Jay Smith: Bibliography of Smith's Work [Marginalia 余白に]

の前の記事「ポーが書評した本 (14) 『万国著名裁判』 (1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (14): _Celebrated Trials of all Countries_ (1835)」で名前が出たジョン・ジェイ・スミスを探して書いてきました。ポー学者のポーリンは、「フィラデルフィアの法曹界のひとり」という匿名の著者を [George H. Borrow] と補っている(Burton Pollin and Josephh V. Ridgely, ed., Writings in The Southern Literary Messenger (New York: Gordian, 1997) )のだけれど、Internet Archive は John Jay Smith (1798-1881) を著者としていたのでした。その典拠はCohen, M.L. のBibliography of Early American Law という文献目録にあるらしい。コーエンの本が日本の図書館にあるか、は、なんたらキャットを見ればわかります。・・・・・・むかし「June 24 おおカリフォルニア!(4) おおスザンナ! (4) Oh! California Oh! Susanna」で書いたように、WorldCat.org はある本が世界のどこの図書館にあるかを教えてくれるとても便利な検索です。ううむ。・・・・・・

  ま、いまはカリフォルニアではなくて日本にいるのだし、本を見に行くのは後日のこととして、 ジョン・ジェイ・スミス自身の回想録をヴァーチャルに手に取ることにしました。

 cu31924003453960_0012.jpg

[Elizabeth P. Smith, ed.]  Recollections of John Jay Smith: Written by Himself.  Privately Printed.  Philadelphia: Press of J. B. Lippincott Company, 1892.   <http://www.archive.org/stream/cu31924003453960#page/n11/mode/2up>

JohnJaySmith(Recollections,frontispiece).jpg

  目次を見てから、中をパラパラと踊りながら読んでみたのです、日曜の午後。自伝的にさまざまなエピソードが語られているだけでなく、フィラデルフィアがらみでいろいろな人々や、自らの家系、新しい風物についての回顧的文章、また、付録としてジョン・スミスの財産目録や死後の新聞・雑誌記事や手紙など、娘の編集によって、豊富な内容となっています。このブログ記事の最後に目次を載せて参照できるようにしたいと思います。

  家系についてと、(問題の)著作について、だけ、該当ページを直接貼っておきます。

Smith,Recollections,p.351.jpg
Smith,Recollections,p.352.jpg
Smith,Recollections,p.353.jpg

 

 

   当時は生後まもなくや幼時に死んでしまうことがよくあったようで、4人生まれた娘のなかで生き残ったのはこの本を編んだエリザベスだけだったのでした。ジョン・ジェイ・スミスは死んだ子供たちのそれぞれを追悼する文章を残し、また、孫娘が亡くなったときの痛切な文章は付録のなかに入っています。

  そして自分の著述については "Authorship" の見出しで、今日もリプリント版が出ている、Alliborne の Dictionary of Authors の記載を引き、その後の著作を自ら追加して記述していました。――

Smith,Recollections,p.221.jpg
Smith,Recollections,p.222.jpg

   問題の本、すなわち、『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』誌でとりあげられた 『万国著名裁判』 Celebrated Trials of all Countries (1835) は、222ページの "Editor of" とされた一連の作品のなかに、"Celebrated Trials, 1836, 8vo." として、確かに入っていました(見やすいように上の下のページの一部を拡大)。――

Smith,Recollections,p.222Trials,AnimalMagnetism.JPG

  そのつぎには、"Animal Magnetism: Report of Dr. Franklin, with additions, 1837, 8vo" が挙がっていて、へぇー、そんな本も出していたんだ、と感心したのでした。〔『カリフォルニア時間』で動物磁気説について出てくる記事参照

  地の文での言及は、189から190ページにありました。――

ROBERT WALSH AND SON.

     The death of Robert M. Walsh, a few days before this is written, recalls a valued friend, Robert Walsh, his father, with whom I had very intimate and pleasant relations.  He was consul-general in Paris in 1845, filling that office with great credit to the country.  Mr. Walsh, the elder, was eminently literary in his tastes.  When the great struggle for the extension of slavery in Missouri agitated this whole country, the National Gazette was established to oppose a further extension.  Walsh's friends made him the editor, and a very pleasant semi-political newspaper was the result.  Its literary character was the attraction to me. I remember subscribing to it at the instigation of Roberts Vaux, who successfully went round with the subscription paper.  After entering on the library duties, I was made free of Mr. Walsh's editorial rooms, which were the large chambers of the great old Willing mansion, at the corner of Third Street and Willing's Alley, the publication office being near by in Second Street.
     The opportunity of free intercourse with this gentleman gave zest to my literaiy studies and pursuits, and put me in training for employment by the booksellers, who were in the habit of getting me to pass many books through the press, write prefaces adapting them to America, or making up whole volumes.  In this way I remember many profitable literary operations, as the compiling, from other works, of "Celebrated Trials of all Countries," published by Carey & Hart.  This friendship prepared me for conducting "Waldie's Library" and many other literary ventures, while in the absences of Mr. Walsh I wrote the editorials of the Gazette.

 

 

  ということで、著者(編者だけれど)確定です。 そして、それは、「フィラデルフィアの法曹界のひとりが選んだ」 "selected by a Member of the Philadelphia Bar" という匿名編者の記載が実は虚偽であったということに、どうやら、なります。

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

目次  CONTENTS

PART I.
CHAPTER I.
My Motive in Writing — Birth and Parentage — Memoir of my Grandfather, his
Noble Character, by the Historian Samuel Smith — My Father and Mother —
Impressions of Childhood — My Eldest Sister's Reminiscences of our Early
Life — Our Home at Green Hill, New Jersey — Fanning my Original Desti-
nation — My Grandmother, Margaret Morris — Her Life of Piety and Trial —
My School-Days in Burlington ........ 1

CHAPTER II.
My Father's Sisters — John Cox and the Dillwyns — The Family and Social
Circle at Burlington — Remarkable Characteristics — Some of Many Descend-
ants — Visitors from the Outside World — My First Ride on Horseback —
Sally Logan Smith (Roberts) and her Descendants — Young City Madcaps —
An Old Family Seamstress ........ 17

CHAPTER III.
Domestic Helpers — Hannah Clarke — My First Appearance as Groomsman —
Helping at a Well-Digging — A Colored Family — Naming a Baby........ 26

CHAPTER IV.
Family Harmony — English Correspondence : Wilberforce, Clarkson, etc. —
Life at Samuel Emlen's, West Hill — My Love of Books — Recreations with
Goose-Eggs and Young Ducks — Indians and Wild Deer — Career of the
Emlens — A Great Affliction — Old Families dying out ........ 29

CHAPTER V.
Our Pedigree again — My Burlington Amusements — Samuel Smith, the His-
torian — Samuel J. Smith, the Poet — Life at Hickory Grove — My Female
Cousins — Smith's Poems not known — A Literary Circle — The Changes at
Burlington — My Uncle Richard Hill Morris ........ 36

CHAPTER VI.
My Brother Richard — Family Incidents — His Religious Character — My Re-
ligious Opportunities — My Brother Morris, and my Sisters Margaret and
Rachel ........ 48

CHAPTER VII.
At Westtown School — Return to Burlington — An Apprentice to Strange
Masters — My Studies in Philadelphia! — My Old Teachers — Incidents of
Apprenticeship........  58

CHAPTER VIII.
Travelling in those Days — Importing a Wife — Franklin Park — Up the Dela-
ware — More of Early Travelling — Politics and Canal Digging — A Cones-
toga Wagon Line — The Old Turnpikes — Curious Cotton Facts — James Ster-
ling, of Burlington ........ 65

CHAPTER IX.
War, and Fortifying the City — Captain Lawrence — Return of Peace — War
Prices — Arch Street Meeting —A Burlington Eccentric — Results of Peace —
My Mother's Removal to the City — Our City Associates — Going into Busi-
ness, and a Western Tour ........ 70

CHAPTER X.
Home — My Marriage— My Newspaper Career— Appointed Librarian —
Library Acquaintances, James Cox — Library Finances — My Resignation
Death of Children — Social Parties — Waldie's Library — My Course of Life
Waldie's Imitators — Laurel Hill Cemetery — Straw Paper ........ 90

PART II.
CHAPTER I.
The Quaker Governing Class........

CHAPTER II.
Retrospection— Value of Family History— Milcah Martha Moore— Her Legacy........ 111
CHAPTER III.
More Family History— The Duchess of Plaisance— An Uncommon Family ........  117

CHAPTER IV.
People I have known........ 137

CHAPTER V.
PEOPLE I HAVE KNOWN.
Chorley— Baring— Cobden-Dilke— Wilde — Granville— The Halls —Jenny
Lind—Sallandrous — Theatrical Experiences— Intercourse with Royalty-
Visit to Leopold— British Museum— Rennie & Ransom— Kew Gardens........ 154

CHAPTER VI. 
A Man with Brains should be able to do Anything in Reason — My First
and Second European Tours — The Exposition of 1851: how conceived,
forwarded, and given up from ill health, etc. ...... 166

CHAPTER VII.
Granville John Penn — Stoke Park and Pennsylvania Castle — Oxford — Blen-
heim — The Last of the Penns, and their Final Story........ 177

CHAPTER VIII.
Elizabeth Fry, William Forster, the Gurneys — Abbott Lawrence — Worthy
American Diplomats — Madame Jumel — Faraday — Rank in England — Robert
Walsh and his Son
— Judah Dobson — Christopher Hughes — Gerard Ralston........ 184

CHAPTER IX.
MORE OF PEOPLE I HAVE KNOWN.
Deborah Logan — The Logan Law — The Dennie Club and Nicholas Biddle — 
Judge Hopkinson; the Athenian Institute — Dr. Rose — Longfellow, Cooper,
Sparks — Members of the Athenian — Professor Nichol — Charles Wilson
Peale and Family ........... 201

PART III.
CHAPTER I.
Thoughts on the Decadence of the Families of the Early Settlers — More
of my Father ; his Conversational Powers — Franklin Park Again ; the Stag's
Escape — The Logans and Pleasantses of Virginia ; the St. Johns, offsets of
Lord Bolingbroke's Family; the Carters, etc. — Authorship — My Literary
Reminiscences — Map-making — Two Literary Anecdotes ........  215

CHAPTER II.
CHANGES I HAVE SEEN, ETC.
James Logan and Benjamin Franklin — An Empress and her Family — A
Bonaparte ......... 227

CHAPTER III.
MORE CHANGES I HAVE SEEN.
Modes of Obtaining Light — The Tinder- Box — The Phosphorus Light — The
Friction Match — Wood and Coal — The First Coal Fire in Philadelphia —
Warming our Houses — The DagueiTeotype — Medicines and Medical Prac-
tice — My Grandmother the First Female Physician — Ornamental Trees;
Penn's Manor in Bucks — Improvements in Machinery and Clothing —
Riding in State ; Ice Not to be Had ; Ice-Cream Invented ; Ice Exported
to England — The Watering-Places — The Advantages of Travel ; How to
see Foreign Countries — Slavery — Ocean Steamers — Triumphs of the Nine-
teenth Century ........ 236

CHAPTER IV. 
MORE PEOPLE I HAVE KNOWN.
Thom, the Sculptor of Old Mortality — Corcoran, the Banker, and Alexander
H. Stephens — Dr. Nott and J. K. Teflt — The Gilpins, Horace Binney, John
Sergeant, Charles Chauncey — Bishop White — Downing, Henry Winthrop
Sargent, N. P. Willis, Lurman, Carroll, Ridgley — Richard S. Field, Com-
modore Stockton, Delancey Kane, Hunneywell — Charles Thomson — Bishop
White — Bishop Simpson — Elias Hicks, Jesse Kersey, Richard Jordan — 
Arch Street Meeting-House and Burial-Ground ...... 254

CHAPTER V.
Ruschenberger — Dunglison — Isaac C. Jones — John M. Whitall —  William
W. Longstreth — Stephen Girard — Henry Pratt — Bartram and his Garden —
Alexander Wilson and the Lawsons — Dr. Joseph Thomas — Rawlins and
Chambers — Warder — -Longworth — Hawes and Goldsmith's Writing-Desk —
Penn's Landing Celebrations ; Witticisms of Judge Peters and Dr. Chap-
man — A Personal Summary ......... 269

CHAPTER VI.
Two Characters — Moore the Undertaker, and Bogle the Professional Waiter........  283

CHAPTER VII.
INSTITUTIONS WITH WHICH I HAVE BEEN CONNECTED.
Woodlawn Cemetery — Greenwood Cemetery — Fairmount Park and its Exten-
sion — The Girard Life and Trust — The Loganian Library ........ 290

PART IV.
CHAPTER I.
A Retired Life ; the Changes within Twenty Years — Our Germantown Home ;
Neighbors, Society, Correspondents, etc.— A Great Religious Void, and how
it was Filled— Turning to Better Books ; a Like Experience of my Father —
Temperance, Now and Aforetime ; What I know about it ........ 300

CHAPTER II.
Life at Germantown— My Third Trip to Europe— A Route Suggested— Intro-
duction to the Lloyd Family in England— Life of Lindley Murray ........ 306

CHAPTER III.
Our Golden Wedding ........

CHAPTER IV.
GATHERED FRAGMENTS.
Surgical Operation— Another Character of my Grandfather— John Quincy
Adams on Family History— Steam Line to Europe— The Rebellion........ 322

CHAPTER V.
FAMILY CONNECTIONS.
The Pembertons, Dillwyns, and Morrises — The Penn Plate — The Hills 327

CHAPTER VI.
The Gowrie Conspiracy and Logan; "Lives of the Lindsays" — Value of
Family History; Laurel Hill — The Dancing Assembly Money— Judge
Reed — The Chew Controversy — Judge Smythe's Estate— The Hill and
Franklin Papers — A French EmigrS and Lord Temple ; A Curious Story — 
Chief Justice James Logan, of Stenton ; Morris and Smith Families........ 333

CHAPTER VII.
Post-Scriptum — The Death of my Wife — My only Daughter's Account of the
Illness of her Mother .......... 359

CHAPTER VIII.
My Wife's Ancestry — The Pearsalls, of Long Island — -Thomas Dobson, Isaac
Collins — Reminiscences of a Residence in New York when Pearl Street was
a Fashionable Neighborhood — Navigation and Locomotion before the Appli-
cation of Steam — Our Departed Children, Gulielma, Margaret Hill, and
Albanus ........ 377

CHAPTER IX.
Fourth Visit to Europe........ 386

Appendix
........ 389
 


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ポーが書評した本 (15) アンドルー・リードの『ノー・フィクション』 (1818; 1835) Books Reviewed by Poe (15): _No Fiction_ by Andrew Reed (1818; 1835) [ポーの書評 Poe's Book Reviews]

続いて、ポーの最初期の批評(と想定されている文章)の中から、順番でいうと、雑誌紹介2篇に続く『サミュエル・ドル―伝』のつぎの『ナポレオン伝』のつぎの『万国著名裁判』のつぎの記事(『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』誌1835年4月号 "Critical Notices" 458ページ)。

Andrew Reed.  No Fiction: A Narrative Founded on Recent and Interesting Facts.  New Edition.  New York: Harper and Brothers, 1835.  

アンドルー・リード著 『ノー・フィクション――最近の興味深い事実に基づいた物語』  新版  ニューヨーク: ハーパー、1835年

  アンドルー・リード Andrew Reed, 1787-1862 はロンドンの会衆派の牧師で、社会改良家、博愛主義者として知られた人。原著の初版は1818年にロンドンで出版されたようです。現時点で、いくら探しても、Web上にはアメリカ版が見つかりません。1818年初版も見つからず、1820年の改訂第3版の2巻本がInternet Archive には入っていました。――

Reed,Andrew_NoFiction(1823,3rd).jpg

Andrew Reed, No Fiction: A Narrative, Founded on Recent and Interesting Facts.  Third edition, corrected.  Volume 1.  London: Francis Westley, 1820.  327pp.  E-text@ Internet Archive [University of California Libraries; Google] <http://www.archive.org/stream/nofiction00unkngoog#page/n6/mode/2up>

Andrew Reed, No Fiction: A Narrative, Founded on Recent and Interesting Facts.  Third edition, corrected.  Volume 2.  London: Francis Westley, 1820.  340pp.  E-text@ Internet Archive [University of California Libraries; Google] <http://www.archive.org/stream/nofictionanarra00reedgoog#page/n8/mode/2up>

  短評は、適当に訳すとこんな感じです。――

神学博士アンドルー・リード師による『ノー・フィクション〔虚構に非ず〕――最近の興味深い事実に基づいた物語』がハーパー社から復刊されている。きわめて単純なプロットと、ひとしく単純な言葉遣いで書かれたこの作品は、名声を博している。実際、興味深く、感興をそそる。しかしながら、同じ著者によるより最近の力作、『マーサ』のほうがあらゆる点でずっとすぐれている。

  『マーサ』 (Martha)は1821年に発表されています。リードは1834年にアメリカを訪問し、そのときのことを James Matheson と共著で『アメリカ教会訪問記』 (Visit to the American Churches) として社から刊行します。『サザン・リテラリー・メッセンジャー』誌の8月号にはその本の書評が載っており、これもポーの手になるのですけれど、そこで4月のこの短評に言及して、"Our readers will remember Doctor Reed as the author of No Fiction and Martha, both of which publications were favorably noticed in a former number of the Messenger." (読者はリード博士が『ノー・フィクション』と『マーサ』の著者で、どちらも『メッセンジャー』誌の前の号で好意的に評したことを思い出されるだろう)と書かれており、それを覚えているのは当の執筆者(すなわちポー自身)だろう、逆に4月のというのがポーリンの推断です。

  リードの本の副題のなかの"narrative" (「物語」、「語り」とふつう訳される)というコトバが、当時の用語としては「実話」であることをむしろ言うのだ、というのは、ポーの場合だと長篇小説『アーサー・ゴードン・ピムの物語 Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym』に関して学者が注釈してきたところです。

 

draft_lens3892922module25766912photo_123956789516-400000.gif

No Fiction.  A Narrative founded on recent and interesting facts, by the Rev. Andrew Reed, D. D. has been republished by the Harpers.  With a plot of great simplicity, and with diction equally simple, this work has attained much celebrity.  It is indeed thrillingly interesting.  Martha, a more recent effort by the same writer, is however, in every respect a book of greater merit.

SouthernLiteraryMessenger(April,1835)458.JPG

 

Andrew Reed.  No Fiction: A Narrative, Founded on Recent and Interesting Facts.  1818.  Rpt. Third edition, corrected.  2vols.  London: Francis Westley, 1820.   E-text@ Internet Archive [University of California Libraries; Google] <http://www.archive.org/stream/nofiction00unkngoog#page/n6/mode/2up> <http://www.archive.org/stream/nofictionanarra00reedgoog#page/n8/mode/2up>

Andrew Reed.  Martha: A Memorial of an Only and Beloved Sister.  1821.  Rpt.  London: Francis Wesley, 1823. 2 vols.  Volume 2: E-text@ Internet Archive [Princeton University; Google] <http://www.archive.org/stream/marthaamemorial01reedgoog#page/n6/mode/2up>

Andrew Reed and James Matheson.   A Narrative of the Visit to the American Churches by the Deputation from the Congregational Union of England and Wales.  2 vols.  New York: Harper and Brothers, 1835.  Volume 1: Etext @ Internet Archive [University of Michigan; Google] <http://www.archive.org/stream/anarrativevisit00mathgoog#page/n4/mode/2up>.  Volume 2: E-text@ Internet Archive [Harvard University; Google] <http://www.archive.org/stream/anarrativevisit05mathgoog#page/n6/mode/2up>; [London: Jackson and Walford, 1835][Oxford University; Google] <http://www.archive.org/stream/anarrativevisit00reedgoog#page/n6/mode/2up>

 anarrativevisit00mathgoog_0005.jpg
A Narrative of the Visit to the American Churches (Harper, 1835)

    3冊(3作品)がハーパー社から同時期に出されたらしいことがわかります。


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