One line of Shakespeare's that sticks with me forever is the beginning of the soliloquy in which Hamlet's mother describes Ophelia's suicide:
There is a willow grows aslant a brookI read a scholarly article years ago in which an argument was made about how Emily Dickinson had most certainly been inspired by the Shakespearean line to begin her own poem:
There is a certain slant of lightIt's very interesting to me how such simple lines lead on to such great development--how such simple lines reel us in.
Anyway, I've just learned about a CD of viola music that has been entitled "There Is a Willow Grows Aslant a Brook"--wow! The simple line again reeling us in to an entire recording, and the line was haunting enough that Britten wrote a composition for viola that the notes on the link describe as being 'hauntingly beautiful.' I don't know the composition, but will definitely take a look at it soon.
http://www.asv.co.uk/dca1064.htm
that is a great line, ww. maybe we should have a thread of favorite single lines?
I'll have to think about it for a while...
I love Britten, I'll have to look for that.
My favorite poet wrote this haunting line as the beginning of my favorite poem:
Piping down the valleys wild
(I will grudgingly admit to there being that 'special something' to that one S-peare line.)
Jackie has begrudgingly found a line of Shakespeare's she doesn't mind? Will miracles never cease?
We love the things we love for what they are.
--Robert Frost, Hyla Brook
There is a willow grows aslant a brook
There is a certain slant of light
There is a certain slant here that eludes me.
There is a certain slant here that eludes me.Well, if the slant is certain, then how's it eluding you?
Streets that follow like a tedious argument of insidious intent - T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
The burnt out ends of smoky days - T.S. Eliot, Preludes
After such knowledge, what forgiveness? - T.S. Eliot. Gerontion
The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting - Milan Kundera, The book of laughter and forgetting
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of habit - Tagore, Gitanjali
My favorite first-lines in poetry are the first two lines of Hopkins' Inversnaid:
This darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down
It's just got such a powerful rhythm and makes the poem immediatly so solid and atmospheric - something to read out loud. And I think the rest of the poem is great too.
All I'm asking is how do you build an argument claiming inspiration based on the common phrase there is and the common lexeme slant when the lexeme is used in completely different contexts? Talk about reading mountains in molehills.
I understand what you're asking, Faldage, but it has been a long time since I read the article, which was rather lengthy. Perhaps the article was about Shakespeare's influence on Dickinson--perhaps there was more evidence from secondary sources or even from letters she'd written. I just remember the conclusion of the arguments: that she'd been influenced by the specific line from Hamlet--and the arguments on which that conclusion had been reached are long past me. Sometimes these connections come about by single lines writers may drop in a letter to a friend.
Wish I could be of more help, but I cannot.
Thanks, Dub'. I don't guess I'll lose any sleep over it.
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant --
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind --
--Emily Dickinson
All I'm asking is how do you build an argument claiming inspiration based on the common phrase there is and the common lexeme slant when the lexeme is used in completely different contexts? ~ faldage_____________________________Tell all the truth but tell it slant -
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explaination kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind -
_______________________________
~ Emily DickinsonPost Edit: Great minds Whitt,
and all that, but my presentation is much more colorful.
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Just so long as it doesn't get bright sometime around 3AM
Just so long as it doesn't get bright sometime around 3AM
Yeahbut®, the light shines in the darkness...does it have to be literal light?
explaination'splain this...
'course, then you'll go and change it back and I'll look the fool...
Why, it'splain as the nose on your face, eta...
Thank you for asking, sweet Wordwind. Yes I am. It is the fantastic plot of the worldrama that unfolds before my eyes that drops my jaw and keeps me mute.
favorite single lines
The moon is a madness, a madness of mine,
I made her of mustard and mulberry wine.
Faldage,
I didn't know your line, but was intrigued by the mulberry and mustard, so went googling for it--and found the entire song, although I have no idea from where this could have come, but it is charming.
I must paste the whole song because it reminds me of all the hopelessly practicing horrible players of string instruments I've ever heard:
A Rune upon a Lunar Tune Aroon. (For El'n)
The Moon is a Madness,
A Madness of mine.
I made her of mustard
And mulberry wine. *(twang)*
I garbed her in silver
And strawberry cheese
And halved her in quarters.
(Her quarters do please.) *(twang, strum)*
I crowned her and gowned her
In Love all ashine,
So boot her and shoot her,
This Madness of mine. *(T-poing)* ouch.
If you find a copy of Songs of the Pogo you may find it in there, complete with tune. Teach it to your little kiddies and have them regale their mommies and daddies.
One of my favorite Shakespeare lines is Hamlet's reply to Polonius remark My lord, I will use them according to their desert:
HAMLET God’s bodikins, man, much better; use every man after his desert, and who should ’scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.
LET US GO THEN, YOU AND I...
Aaaaaaah!....I spy with barely contained glee, an 'Elliottian'!
Here's Elliot then, on a midnight moon:
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis
Whispering lunar incantations
Dissolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations
Its divisions and precisions
- T.S. Eliot,
Rhapsody on a windy night
The moon is a harsh mistress.
--Robert A. Heinlein