Episode 249: “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” by S. T. Coleridge, Part 2

Summary

The Literary Life Podcast: Episode 249 – “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” by S. T. Coleridge, Part 2

Release Date: November 5, 2024

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Introduction

In Episode 249 of The Literary Life Podcast, hosts Angelina Stanford and Thomas Banks delve deeper into Samuel Taylor Coleridge's classic poem, "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner." Joined by lifelong reader Cindy Rollins, the trio engages in an insightful conversation exploring the poem's intricate themes, its place within Romantic literature, and its enduring significance. This episode not only dissects the poem but also contextualizes it within the broader literary movement, offering listeners a comprehensive understanding of its artistry and intellectual depth.

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Continuing the Analysis of "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner"

[00:18 – 02:40] Setting the Stage

Angelina Stanford reiterates the podcast's mission: to explore the skill and art of reading, rediscover the lost intellectual traditions, and immerse listeners in great literary works. Emphasizing that literature is for everyone, she cites Stratford Caldecott, “to be enchanted by story is to be granted a deeper insight into reality.” The hosts express gratitude for the positive feedback received on their Coleridge series, despite humorous slip-ups, such as Thomas mistaking Jacob Marley for Bob Marley in the previous episode.

Notable Quote:

• Angelina Stanford [00:18]: "This is not just another book chat podcast. [...] Stories will save the world."

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Romanticism vs. Enlightenment Rationalism

[05:00 – 15:33] The Romantic Reaction

Angelina and Thomas discuss how Coleridge's poem diverged from the Enlightenment's emphasis on reason and clarity. Unlike the 18th-century poetic diction, which was highly stylized and moralistic, Coleridge introduces layers of imagination, mystery, and symbolism, challenging the era's literary norms.

Notable Quotes:

• Angelina Stanford [06:36]: "The poem has too much moral... [Coleridge] should have made it just full wonder and imagination."
• Thomas Banks [14:23]: “Vasist auf Klarung... What is enlightenment?”

They reference William Blake's "Macon Mocken" and John Keats's "La Belle Dame sans Merci" to illustrate Romanticism's skepticism toward the Enlightenment belief that all truths could be unraveled through reason and science. The discussion highlights how Romantics like Blake and Keats emphasized the importance of the imagination and the mysterious aspects of existence, opposing the reductionist views of their predecessors.

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Symbolism and Religious Imagery in the Poem

[20:13 – 33:27] Exploring Deeper Meanings

The conversation shifts to the rich symbolism within "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner." Angelina emphasizes that the albatross symbolizes more than just a literal bird—it represents a Christ figure and the interconnectedness of nature and spirituality. They debate various interpretations, including psychological readings by I.A. Richards, which Angelina criticizes for reducing the poem's transcendent qualities to mere psychological phenomena.

Notable Quotes:

• Thomas Banks [28:14]: “Emile Zola... imagined fiction as a species of journalism or sociology.”
• Angelina Stanford [46:33]: "To be out of harmony with nature is to be out of harmony with God."

The hosts explore how Coleridge uses religious imagery to convey themes of sin, redemption, and the supernatural. They argue that the poem resists simplistic interpretations and instead invites readers to engage with its mysteries, reinforcing the Romantic belief in the ineffable aspects of life.

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Critique of Modern Interpretations

[74:10 – 81:17] Beyond Psychological Readings

Angelina and Thomas critique modern literary analyses that overly focus on psychological or biographical interpretations, arguing that such approaches miss the poem's transcendent and spiritual dimensions. They advocate for appreciating the poem's inherent artistry and its ability to evoke a sense of the sublime, rather than reducing it to personal or psychological reflections.

Notable Quotes:

• Angelina Stanford [78:39]: “If you don't believe in a transcendent realm, Coleridge does not.”
• Thomas Banks [81:20]: “We don't need art if all it is is just vomiting our psyche on a page.”

They emphasize that the poem's value lies in its ability to transcend the individual psyche, offering insights into universal human experiences and the mysteries of existence.

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The Legacy of Romanticism

[84:14 – End] Romanticism's Enduring Influence

In their concluding remarks, the hosts discuss the lasting impact of Romanticism on modern literature and culture. They highlight how Romantic ideals continue to influence contemporary storytelling, often in both noble and diluted forms. Angelina shares her admiration for C.S. Lewis and Tolkien, noting how their works embody Romantic principles by balancing imagination with moral and spiritual depth.

Notable Quotes:

• Angelina Stanford [86:00]: “Stories will save the world.”
• Thomas Banks [84:46]: “Romanticism was so powerful as a literary movement and recovered stylistically and otherwise. It's still kind of with us in both good ways and bastardized ways.”

They express hope that their analysis has redeemed the Romantics for listeners who may have previously viewed them negatively, showcasing the complexity and richness of Romantic literature.

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Conclusion and Upcoming Content

Angelina wraps up the episode by promoting upcoming webinars and new book releases, encouraging listeners to continue their literary explorations. She hints at future episodes focusing on Oscar Wilde's "The Ideal Husband," promising engaging discussions and deeper dives into classical literature.

Notable Quote:

• Angelina Stanford [85:28]: “I hope that you see that the Romantics are not what you thought they were. They're not just a bunch of revolutionaries who hate God.”

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Selected Noteworthy Readings from the Poem

Throughout the episode, Thomas Banks reads select stanzas from "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," bringing the poem to life for listeners. These readings highlight the poem's haunting imagery, rhythmic qualities, and profound thematic elements, underscoring the hosts' analyses.

Example:

• Thomas Banks [35:27]: "I fear the Ancient Mariner. I fear thy skinny hand and thou art long and lank and brown as is the ribbed sea land."

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Final Thoughts

Episode 249 of The Literary Life Podcast offers a thorough and engaging exploration of "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," situating it within the Romantic movement and examining its rich symbolic and religious layers. Angelina Stanford and Thomas Banks provide listeners with a nuanced understanding of the poem, challenging common interpretations and emphasizing the enduring power of Romantic literature. Whether you're a seasoned literary enthusiast or new to classic works, this episode serves as a valuable guide to appreciating the depth and beauty of Coleridge's masterpiece.

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Join the Conversation:

• Visit HouseOfHumaneLetters.com for more information.
• Follow Cindy Rollins at MorningtimeForMoms.com.
• Engage with the community on Patreon at patreon.com/theliterarylife.

Don't Miss Next Week:

• Dr. Jason Baxter discusses his new book, Why Literature Still Matters, offering fresh perspectives on the importance of literature in the modern world.

Upcoming Series:

• Oscar Wilde's "The Ideal Husband" — Join Angelina and Thomas as they dissect Wilde's sharp wit and enduring themes in this beloved play.

Stay Connected:

• Subscribe, rate, and review on your preferred podcast platform.
• Explore sister podcasts: The Well Read Poem with poet Thomas Banks and The New Mason Jar.

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This summary captures the essence of Episode 249, providing a clear and comprehensive overview for both regular listeners and newcomers seeking to understand the depth of "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" and its place within literary tradition.

Transcript

[Angelina Stanford]

This is not just another book chat podcast. Lifelong reader Cindy Rollins joins teachers Angelina Stanford and Thomas Banks for an ongoing conversation about the skill and art of reading. Well, explore the lost intellectual tradition and discover how to fully enter into the great works of literature. Learn what books mean while delighting in the sheer joy of imagination. Each week we will rescue story from the ivory tower and bring it to your couch, your kitchen, and your commute. The literary life is for everyone because in the words of Stratford Caldecott, to be enchanted by story is to be granted a deeper insight into reality. Join us for an ever unfolding discussion of how stories will save the world. This is the Literary Life Podcast. Welcome back to the Literary Life Podcast. I'm Angelina Stanford, and here with me is the albatross hung around my neck.

[Thomas Banks]

I know, Banks. It's a sad fate.

[Angelina Stanford]

Well, at least I guess I could have said the wedding guest who's trapped to listen to every tale I will ever tell.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, I, I rereading this and reminded that I think the wedding guest must not be very bright. I know that's, that's kind of beside the point to bring that up, but I mean, I think just one, one adult life lesson that everyone needs to learn is how to get out of an uncomfortable conversation, like, you know, feigning an injury or, you know, like saying, oh, my wife just texted me. Yeah, horrible accident. Have to run by that kind of thing. Yeah. And none of this occurs to the wedding guest, though.

[Angelina Stanford]

He's entranced.

[Thomas Banks]

Well, he's entranced. I know, I know. Yeah. Mr. Banks getting all the wrong lessons from these things.

[Angelina Stanford]

Indeed.

[Thomas Banks]

Still. Still. Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

If you're just joining us, this is episode three in our series of Samuel Taylor Coleridge's the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner. We'll be wrapping up with a poem today, and we have gotten tremendously good feedback on this series. People are really enjoying it.

[Thomas Banks]

Even though I mistook Jacob Marley for Bob Marley in last episode.

[Angelina Stanford]

Well, I was going to introduce that by saying, now is the part of our podcast where Mr. Banks will eat some crow.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

Immediately after the last episode, you guys should know, immediately after we finished recording, he looked at me and he said, Jacob Marley. Oh, no. Oh, no. And then you said, oh, they're all going to come after the comments.

[Thomas Banks]

So I said, Bob. I was probably thinking Bob Cratch.

[Angelina Stanford]

Bob Cratchit.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. It's. Wow. Gosh, it was one of those, like, it would be too much work for a sound engineer. It'd be too much work for Kiel to assemble this but what if she just compiled an episode from all our bloopers? It would be like our blooper reel. Like, we've been doing this for five, six years now. I think, like, we probably assembled a decent bible full of moments like that. I'd probably be alarmed to know exactly how many.

[Angelina Stanford]

But you realized it right afterwards. And I decided not to edit it out. Not because I wanted to shame my husband movement, because I.

[Thomas Banks]

It was exact. Why, no, it was fun. I thought it was funny, too. Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

But also, I think it's important for people to realize we make mistakes. I. I think they get the impression that we're just perfect readers. No, we're people. We get things wrong, we make mistakes, we get tongue tied. Yeah.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

I mean, there. Honestly, like our entire back catalog, there are moments where I think, oh, I would have said that differently. Or, oh, I should have said this.

[Thomas Banks]

Instead, or, you know, Precisely.

[Angelina Stanford]

So we're going to try to finish up that episode today as well as. I mean, the series today, the poem, as well as some concluding remarks about the Romantics. But first, a quick reminder. We have Dr. Anne Phillips webinar coming up today on image and allegory in Plato's Republic. That is going to be amazing. No, it's not today. It's next week. I got. See, there you go. I. I will not edit this out. This was me. Because we're recording in advance. This was me getting confused on which week. We are so not. It's in two weeks. Dr. Ed Phillips webinar will be in two weeks from when this episode airs November 12th. And it's going to be fantastic. I'm really looking forward to it. She's worked really hard on this, and I know she's got a lot of insights to share with us. So you can find out about that@houseofhumane letters.com and another reminder, we did launch Dr. Jason Baxter's new book at our new publishing house, Cassiodor's Press, called why Literature Still Matters. And this is a great book for somebody who's brand new to the literary life. This is not written for. It's not an insider's kind of book. This is. This is absolutely the kind of book that you could put into someone's hands who, who is new to all of this and would help to acclimate them to, you know, what the literary life is all about. Why Literature Matters. Exactly. As the title says, why Literature Still Matters. Why has it ever mattered? And why does it matter now in the modern world? A lot of people are ordering this for Christmas gifts to give away to people. And I was just talking to our editor, our director of the press, about that, and she said, make sure you say on the podcast, because we're getting this question a lot, that this is, this is definitely an accessible book that could be somebody's first introduction to what this is all about. Literature. Why, why, why you want to spend so much time reading books, thinking about books, talking to books, talking about books, talking to books. If you're me, you're yelling at them and, and listening to book podcasts. So we're really proud of that book. And of course, Dr. Baxter will be on this podcast next week talking about that book and this subject. So you can find out about that at our brand new website, cassiodoruspress.com all right, well, shall we jump in? Do you have a commonplace quote?

[Thomas Banks]

Do you?

[Angelina Stanford]

I do, I do. I have a quote from Coleridge himself, which I found quite fascinating. So when this came out and we, we kind of briefly touched on this in, in the last couple of weeks, you know, this was very different from what anybody else was writing at the time, and it left quite a few people scratching their heads. And in particular, poetry had been very clear, very direct, and, and had basically a clearly stated moral. And. And this is a poem that introduces you into the world of the imagination and wonder and marvels and mystery and very, very different. And so he got some pushback about that. And one person criticized the poem as, and said, quote, it had no moral. Yes, the poem has no moral. So here was his response to that. In my own judgment, the poem had too much. And that the only or chief fault, if I might say so, was the obtrusion of the moral sentiment so openly on the reader as a principle, a cause of action in a work of such pure imagination. It ought to have had no more moral than the Arabian Nights tale of the merchant sitting down to eat dates by the side of a well and throwing the shells aside. And lo, a genie starts up and says he must kill the aforesaid merchant because one of the date shells had, it seems, put out the eye of the genie's son.

[Thomas Banks]

That is a really strange comparison, huh?

[Angelina Stanford]

Oh, I don't think it's a strange comparison. I mean, if you've taken my fairy tale class or if you've listened to our why Read Fairy Tales Podcast episode, you know that I think fairy tales have a whole lot to say, rich with meaning, with moral dimension. Right. But they don't spell it out for you. It's not, you know, A moral at the end of the fable kind of thing. You have to kind of work within the world of the imagination to. To experience the layers of meaning. And I appreciate his snarky response, saying, no moral. It has too much moral. And if there's one flaw to this, it's that I made the moral too plain, and I should have made it just full wonder and imagination.

[Thomas Banks]

And also this poem, I think another reason why it might have confudled some members anyway, of its original audience was because even though it is obviously shot through with all manner of symbolism, you know, things emblematic of other things, it's not always just pellucidly clear. Oh, definitely not exactly. I mean, the albatross is obviously a symbol, but it seems to be a symbol of more than one thing. It's a symbol which seems to be. Have performed more than one particular literary function. And that also is. You could see how that would be sort of distasteful to an 18th century kind of mind, which has been reared on Samuel Johnson and, you know, Alexander Pope and Dryden and the canons of taste with which we associate them.

[Angelina Stanford]

Right. And the fact, again, that clarity was one of their big principles. Things needed to be clearly stated. And Coleridge is doing the opposite of that. He is deliberately, unclearly saying them. And I completely agree with you about the multiple layers of meaning. That's a very medieval kind of thing. It's very intentional by Coleridge because, again, the Romantics in the vein of Coleridge are pushing back against the idea that the universe is easily comprehended, that. That there are no mysteries, that everything is clearly understandable. And he's. He's definitely telling us it's not. Life is full of confusing, weird, mysterious things that you can't always readily apprehend.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, we never got to my commonplace. I just realized.

[Angelina Stanford]

No, I was going to pause time for.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. Mine is taken from the early 20th century English literary critic and novelist Frank Swinnerton. This from his book. This from his book, the Tocquefield Papers. He writes, snobbery only begins when other claims to quality fail. Just seem like a very well cut sentence to me.

[Angelina Stanford]

I love that. That's such a Thomas Banks commonplace quote. I love it. I love it. All right, before we jump in with the poem, though, this is me. If you can hear the pages turning trying to find my. My place in the book. Here we left off at Park.

[Thomas Banks]

You're one of those readers who puts multiple bookmarks in a book.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yes.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, I am not. I just dog your page.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yes, I know. I'm so.

[Thomas Banks]

You're more pious in this regard. But you have, like, the little. The little bookmark tags sticking out in multiple places.

[Angelina Stanford]

Things I want to talk about. Of things I want to talk about. Yes. Imagine my shock, dear listeners, when I discovered just a few weeks into our marriage that I had married a complete and total monster, a psychopath.

[Thomas Banks]

I think you break more book spines than I do because you. You sometimes will mark them with a pen. Like you'll put a pen to hold your place.

[Angelina Stanford]

Well, okay, okay. But it depends. Oh, boy.

[Thomas Banks]

We're just. We're just gonna go at. No, go at it here, sum up.

[Angelina Stanford]

Each other's books, have a fight right here on the air. It's because I have multiple copies of things for different uses.

[Thomas Banks]

That's true.

[Angelina Stanford]

There are some books that you would look at and think I had never even opened because they're so pristine. But it's just because I'm very careful teaching copies. I'm very rough on those. Those are cheap paperbacks, and I've marked them all up, and I end up just destroying them and having to transfer all my notes to new books. I'm very rough on my teaching copies. That is very true. That's very true. I still don't dog ear the pages, though. Yeah, you monster.

[Thomas Banks]

No, I guess we're both heretical in different ways.

[Angelina Stanford]

I want to put this poem again a little bit more in the larger context of the Romantics pushing back against certain excesses of the 18th century. And that's not to say everything about the 18th century was wrong. Again, we're talking about excesses. You know, I like to think of it as a pendulum. The pendulum swings. Right. And when the 18th century started, there was a. There's a lot of good things that were brought about from 18th century neoclassicism. I'm a big fan of Samuel Johnson's There's a lot of good things that happen.

[Thomas Banks]

The novel, well, I mean, it kind of exists before, but at the same time, it becomes a popular form starting at that period.

[Angelina Stanford]

But there was certainly excesses, and the excesses was the elevation of reason as the primary apprehender of truth and a suspicion, and then later on, a complete and total disdain and disregard for the imagination. And so the Romantics are pushing back against that. So I have a couple of lines of poetry here by some other Romantics. Well, William Blake is technically a pre Romantic, but the Romantic era ish poets that I think will help to show you what they're thinking, what they're pushing back Against. So the first one. I'm throwing this curveball at you, dear, and you didn't know I was going to ask you to read this. But the first one is a very short little poem by William Blake, one of my favorites. Macon Mock on. Oh, yeah, we've referred to one of my favorites. And I think this poem really shows what the Romantics are trying to do here, that there's this enlightenment idea that through science and reason we can know everything. And the Romantic.

[Thomas Banks]

There's no department of human knowledge which we can't get to the bottom of if we just, you know, apply, you know, the levers and mechanisms of common sense.

[Angelina Stanford]

Precisely. And not only that, there is no mystery of the universe that we cannot, you know, unravel and bring.

[Thomas Banks]

Actually, I think that one of the best summaries of this particular mode of thinking is in Emmanuel Kant's. It's not terribly long. It's an essay he wrote in the latter half of the century called Vasist auf Klarung. What is enlightenment? And he defines enlightenment as that which emancipates a man from his childhood. And here we are, Europe, the most advanced society in the most advanced age. And why can we not separate ourselves from the guiding strings of the past?

[Angelina Stanford]

And then you have William Blake, who's literally taking the opposite view. His innocence and experience thesis, where the state of innocence in your childhood is much more close to, say, a pre fallen existence and the experience of life in a fallen world kind of beats all of that out of you. And so through the imagination, you actually want to try to get back to the state of innocence, you know, like having childlike faith, so completely complete opposite. But would you mind reading that poem to us?

[Thomas Banks]

I would not.

[Angelina Stanford]

You will do a much better job reading it than I. This is William Blake's Macon Makon, Voltaire, Rousseau.

[Thomas Banks]

Macon, Macon, Voltaire, Rousseau. Mark on, mark on. Tis all in vain. You throw the sand against the wind and the wind blows it back again. And every sand becomes a gem reflected in the beams divine that blown back they blind the mocking eye. But still in Israel's paths they shine. The atoms of Democritus and Newton's particles of light are sands upon the Red Sea shore, Where Israel's tents do shine so bright.

[Angelina Stanford]

Oh, that's so good. Right, so it's vanity to think that you can understand everything. And my favorite line there is, is you throw the sand against the wind and the wind blows it back again. That's. That's man shaking his fist. You know, I can. I can control and understand nature, and nature just laughs and sends a hurricane and shows us that it can't. Let's see if I can remember this one from memory. Alexander Pope's got a couplet that I also think just nails what how the Enlightenment viewed knowledge and the age they lived in this Age of illumination. So this would be. This would be an example of what the Romantics are pushing back against. And God said, let there be Newton, and all was light. Oh, I got it wrong. I got it wrong.

[Thomas Banks]

Nature and nature's laws lay hid in darkest night. God said, let Newton be, and all was light.

[Angelina Stanford]

Thank you. Thank you. That was me.

[Thomas Banks]

I knew you were going to quote.

[Angelina Stanford]

That one, messing it up. You know me well.

[Thomas Banks]

I know you well.

[Angelina Stanford]

You also knew I was going to get it wrong.

[Thomas Banks]

You know, actually, it's kind of funny what, I mean, it's hard for us to imagine, but just what a demigod Newton was regarded as by contemporaries and near contemporaries. Thomas Jefferson, I think it's in one of his letters to Adams, says that he regarded the three greatest men. And I think he says that pretty much without qualification, just the three greatest human beings who have ever lived to be Newton, Francis Bacon, and John Locke. The three. Or maybe not the three greatest men, but the three greatest minds.

[Angelina Stanford]

That sounds right.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. And that's like your Enlightenment trinity right there. Even though Francis Bacon is kind of before the Enlightenment proper, but still, I mean, the instrumentalization of knowledge so that our inquiries into the world can change it for our benefit and manipulate it in such a way as to serve us, to make ourselves the master of nature.

[Angelina Stanford]

Exactly so. Exactly so. And so you have people like Jonathan swift in the 18th century himself also pushing back against this. And, you know, he. He felt like. He felt like it's fine to. To analyze things, to weigh and to measure, to understand the parts of things. You know, the telescope and the microscope had both been invented at this time and just opened up new worlds both below us and above us. And we were kind of drunk on that knowledge very much. Kind of like, there's just a lot of parallels to, like, living in a tech age where we think every technological innovation is automatically in advance or an improvement, and this is progress, and we're going to have a utopia through technology because, you know, every time your phone updates, it's obviously so much better and it's never a pain. But Jonathan Swift felt like if all we're doing is looking at a microscope and seeing the parts, we are going to lose the whole. We are going to Lose our humanity. And we need to step back and take the whole picture. And so that's really a lot of what the Romantics are up to, trying to correct what they see as the excesses. Now this is another one of my favorite lines from the Romantics to show you, you know, what we're kind of talking about here. This is a line from a much longer poem by John Keats. Lamea. And this is a line. I just adore this, adore this line. But I should tell you that philosophy in this context means natural philosophy. That is what they called science. And so this he would be talking to use philosophy here to mean the sort of like scientific approach that's hyper rational. Do not all charms fly at the mere touch of cold philosophy. Philosophy will clip an angel's wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line. Empty the haunted air and gnomed mine. Unweave a rainbow. I love that. It's one of my all time favorite lines of poetry. Unweave a rainbow.

[Thomas Banks]

I haven't read that poem in ages. That's the one that's kind of based on the Lilith myth.

[Angelina Stanford]

It's a witch poem, very vampirey.

[Thomas Banks]

I had to read that one in college and I think I liked it, but I need to go back to it.

[Angelina Stanford]

It's very long, you know, but this is it. This is it. In a world in which we think that we can conquer all mysteries by rule and line and we can even unweave a rainbow, Coleridge comes in to say in this poem to show us there are mysteries that have not yet been conquered. The, the unweave a rainbow line, I should say, though, you know, that's very similar to what Jonathan Swift is saying, that all you're doing is taking things apart and you're taking it apart in a way that destroys it.

[Thomas Banks]

Yes. Yeah. Actually, it's kind of funny how two different writers can share that same particular concern when they're such different men as John Keats and Jonathan Swift. Well, when I think of them, I think of. I cannot think of two writers who stylistically have less in common.

[Angelina Stanford]

Stylistically. But no, cut from the same cloth in terms of what they're concerned with. Edgar Allan Poe has a similar sonnet. It's a science. Two science, two science, two science, same thing. Just all of them being very, very concerned that this scientific emphasis was. Was failing to consider the whole of things. And analysis is. Is taking things apart in a way that destroys it.

[Thomas Banks]

That's literally what the word analysis means, actually. Yeah, yeah. Loose and the, the suffix list actually Have a common root. Oh, yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

Oh, very interesting. Now, let me just. I wanted to clarify something I said last week about Wordsworth and language. Before we jump in. I said that Wordsworth felt that language is arbitrary. So I want to. I want to just clarify exactly what was going on with. With that. I. I looked it up just to be sure I didn't say something wrong. 18th century poetry is written in what's called poetic diction. So you have very, very highly stylized language, which you see in this poem. Cole was just trying to get us back to. Wordsworth rejected the poetic diction of the 18th century because he thought the language there, the poetic language, was essentially ornamental. And so he preferred a more realistic sounding language. And that's why he's pushing toward rustic speech and dialect and trying to capture the rhythms of how people actually talk. This is what Northrop Fry describes as moving into the descriptive phase of language. Coleridge did not think that the poetic language was ornamental, and he thought that the meaning was in fact transmitted in the poetic language, that is, the symbols, the metaphors and the images. And so at a time when Wordsworth and some of the other Romantics are deliberately stripping their poetry of poetic diction and quote, unquote, ornamental language, Coleridge is piling it all on, as he does in this poem.

[Thomas Banks]

One thing about words, the funny thing about Wordsworth is, well, maybe more than one thing. I do not think. I cannot think of many poems of his, and I've read a good deal of Wordsworth where you actually see in practice his. His famous dictum about the language of ordinary speech.

[Angelina Stanford]

You think he fails to actually do that?

[Thomas Banks]

I don't think he really puts that theory into effect any more than he writes about different things. He writes about, sure, ordinary things, but he doesn't write about them in. He doesn't always write about them in, what, like a prosaic or a low dialect or something like that. He doesn't write about peasants in the way that an actual peasant would. I guess that's what I'm trying to say. And, yeah, neither does Kolerid. So, yeah, I think that the. If you want to understand Romantic poetry, I think beginning with Wordsworth's, you know, the theory that he enunciates in the preface to the Lyrical Ballads is, I think, almost. I won't say the worst place to start, but I think it's a very, very misleading one. I agree, because I don't think. Yeah, and I'm fine with him not putting his theories into practice. I don't.

[Angelina Stanford]

But the Theories do get put into practice by other people.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

And so you do see, even in the Victorian novel, I mean, we've seen George Eliot, we've seen Thomas Hardy do this, we've seen Charles Dickens do this. Trying to capture the speech of ordinary people. Now that in and of itself is not bad.

[Thomas Banks]

It's actually fine.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yeah, because Charles Dickens is still writing fairy tales. He's still writing imaginative things. But he's also, you know, catching the ear of the sound the way a.

[Thomas Banks]

Cockney looking man might do.

[Angelina Stanford]

That in and of itself is not a bad thing. What happens is you get this shift and by the time you're in the 20th century, everything is so hyper realist that there's almost not even an imagination anymore.

[Thomas Banks]

Lewis writes about this in one of his book reviews where he is examining a. It's a new translation. Well, then new, it would have been about 1950 or maybe 1960, a new translation of one or the other of the Homeric epics. And he notes that.

[Angelina Stanford]

Oh, that's the Fitzgerald one.

[Thomas Banks]

Is it? The Robert Fitzgerald?

[Angelina Stanford]

Okay.

[Thomas Banks]

And he notes that, yeah, we live with, I mean, we have our own sort of call them democratic prejudices or populist prejudices that we do not like ceremonial diction, ceremonial anything really. So even literary forms, which of themselves involve any number of rituals, verbal or otherwise, we tend to be kind of embarrassed by that and want to kind of bring them down to the level of common everyday experience. So he says. Lewis has a great example. He says, so the heroes in Homer now sound like barrack room sergeants at Sandhurst or something like that.

[Angelina Stanford]

No, he says they sound like American bros. Yeah, that's my paraphrase.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, that's right. They sound like GIs.

[Angelina Stanford]

He said they sound like American bros. Yeah, yeah, actually in that, in that.

[Thomas Banks]

Review, because we want to. We kind of want to make Homer, you know, we want to make his experience of war more like ours and bring it up to date and to date.

[Angelina Stanford]

Well, he makes this point, which is a very fine point because, you know, Lewis writes extensively about why read old books. And his argument about why read old books is you need to be jerked out of your world, put in another world, the past, so that you can see your own world with new eyes. You sort of have to get over the. The snobbery of thinking your age is the only age or the best age. And so he says in that review that his view is that a translation of Homer should help the reader to experience what it would have been like to live in antiquity. Whereas what Fitzgerald does, and other translators do, is they try to make Homer seem modern so that, quote, unquote, moderns will understand it, which is just a fascinating sentence to me. And I. I see that this sort of thing happens a lot. My approach to teaching literature is to help students go back in time and experience the story like the original audience would have. But we are so in the minority for trying to do that. Most everybody else is trying to pull apart the past and make it seem contemporary, make it seem modern, which defeats the whole purpose of reading old books.

[Thomas Banks]

You would think.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yes, you would think. Yeah. Yeah. So I don't know how to expand on my comments about the descriptive phase without spending the next two hours giving you a miniature Northrop Fry lecture. But suffice it to say that the move toward hyperrealism, then once again in the 20th century, kind of pushes out the imagination. And this is why you end up with a lot of 20th century fiction just seeming really, really depressing. Like, oh, you know, Hemingway. I'm just. I'm bored. I'm just sitting around, I'm smoking cigarettes. I'm young. I'm beautiful, and life is so boring, and I'm so depressed and, yeah, that's hyper realistic, all right, but what am I supposed to do with that? There's. There's no imaginative landscape to sort of help the story transcend into something else, which is what you need symbols and images and metaphors for.

[Thomas Banks]

I think that type of. That type of conception of the novel as, you know, simply a. Not a window, but call it a. Some sort of intense focal device for concentrating on our manners, morals, habits as a society. Right now, today, that kind of, like, extreme presentism, that's still very much with us. The weird thing is, like, that's a really kind of old idea. Well, kind of old. Over a hundred years old, I would say, because Emile Zola, the French naturalist writing at the very end of the 19th century, gave it out as his opinion that he considered fiction really to be kind of a species of journalism or sociology in a fictional form.

[Angelina Stanford]

That is very much the dominant view. Yeah, well, I mean, it's 2000.

[Thomas Banks]

Why? Because, I mean, which is why Emil Zola. I mean, probably we read his journalism more than his actual fiction.

[Angelina Stanford]

Today. He's a naturalist writer. And, of course, that's the position that they would have taken. You know, you bring up a good point that these ideas are. They're old. Yes. It's 2024. So these ideas are more than 100 years old. And, you know, in some cases, we're getting closer to 150 years old. So this has been the way things have gone for a long time, and I don't think that that's been a good thing. Let me see if I can sum it up this way. The imaginative realm of stories is that which helps you to transcend your own life and to give you to help pull back the cur. Okay, I'll do it this way. In the Aeneid, this is not where you thought I was going to go. In the Aeneid, there's this scene at the beginning where Troy is falling, if you'll recall. Course it will call, you know, this backwards and forwards in Latin. So he's going to correct me if I say any of this wrong. Look at he. He's leaning forward. He's about to pounce on me like a dog. Down, boy. Down boy. I'm put a shot collar on you here. They're fighting and Aeneas walks in and. And he sees the fighting and of course it's his human beings killing each other and there's a goddess that pulls back the veil and he can see that really it's the gods fighting. Do you remember that? I think it's from book two.

[Thomas Banks]

I. I know the senior describing, but not that particular incident.

[Angelina Stanford]

Okay, well, anyway, that is an amazing picture of what I think literature does. It helps us to. To pull the film off of our eyes, to use the Paradise Lost expression, the film on our eyes that makes us think that what we're seeing in the real world is all that there is. And it helps us to remember that there's a. There's another realm behind that. There's a spiritual realm, there's a supernatural realm. There's. There's a transcendent realm behind the physical things that are happening to us in life. And that's the realm that gives this world meaning. This. That's the realm that helps us to interpret the things that are happening is to try to understand the spiritual forces behind, you know, all of these things that are going on. It's the same sort of thing that CS Lewis is doing in that Hideous Strengths where, you know, he's showing that there are spiritual things happening behind even dystopian governments. So once you move into the descriptive phase of language fully, you're basically bombarded with stories that treat this world as if it's the only existence.

[Thomas Banks]

Flo Bear is kind of my go to example for that type of thinking with his short story, which is describing. The main character is a French woman who at one point in her life saw a stained glass window on which was an image representing the Holy Spirit. And she sort of fancifully thought to herself that he looked sort of like a parrot. And then much later in life, when she's old and dying and she's kind of delirious, she imagines a parrot descending from heaven to receive her soul there. Which of course is suggesting that, you know, just the synapses in her brain are firing. This odd image from a stained glass window, which she once viewed in her childhood, is the last thing that she's thinking of before she, you know, loses consciousness.

[Angelina Stanford]

Religion is just firing synapse of the brain. There is nothing beyond this world. No, that's a. That's a very. That's a very good example.

[Thomas Banks]

I showed my students not long ago in one of my classes, a photograph of Flo Baron. It's. He looked like a guy who wrote that way. He looked like, if you can imagine, a walru which was turned by some sarcastic fairy into a human being and it became a misanthrope. That's Flaubert, the Sad Walrus. Frenchman C.S.

[Angelina Stanford]

Lewis writes about this as well. There's an essay in which he says it's not imaginative stories. It's not fairy stories that mislead a child. It's realistic stories that mislead a child.

[Thomas Banks]

Used to scrub stories.

[Angelina Stanford]

Precisely so. Because those stories will suggest to a child that the world that he sees with his eyes is the only world that there is. And that. And that's a lie.

[Thomas Banks]

Actually another example of that type of character in fiction. Other than use to scrub, he's not an odious character. Actually. He's kind of lovable in this way. But do you remember the Sergeant Hooper in Brideshead Revisited?

[Angelina Stanford]

Vaguely.

[Thomas Banks]

Okay, so he is Charles Ryder's orderly at the beginning of the book.

[Angelina Stanford]

Okay. Okay. Yeah, yeah.

[Thomas Banks]

And he says that the difference between him and me wasn't so much one of classic. His education. He had not been reared on any kind of humanistic tradition, but his education had been kind of a sociological one where he learned about factory acts and the history of civic improvement and things like that and the expansion of voting rights, but didn't know anything about Marathon or Thermopylae.

[Angelina Stanford]

If you're interested in thinking some more about these things that we're talking about, you can take a look at. Let's see. Help me remember all we've done on this, our Hard Times series. For sure. We talked about this a lot when we did on Fairy Stories by Tolkien. We talked about This a lot. We may have talked about it when we get into.

[Thomas Banks]

Because the Maupassant story, the necklace, you spoke about that.

[Angelina Stanford]

Don't spoil. I gave a fairy tale.

[Thomas Banks]

It's a realistic story, which is actually kind of something else as well. Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

Mansfield park in Northanger Abbey. I think we may have talked about that as well. Definitely we did. In the Harry Potter series, we talked about the function of fantasy, and we may also have done it in our series on fantasties by George MacDonald. But there's plenty of other places where we have pursued these ideas. All right, well, now that we've oriented ourselves, shall we jump into part four and finish this up?

[Thomas Banks]

By all means, yes.

[Angelina Stanford]

So we left on a cliffhanger last time, where the souls of the crew are flying past him and he's the.

[Thomas Banks]

One man left to live a death in life, cursed existence.

[Angelina Stanford]

Right, right. And the wedding guest, you know, kind of yells out, I'm afraid. I'm afraid.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. I fear the Ancient Mariner. I fear thy skinny hand and thou art long and lank and brown as is the ribbed sea land. I fear thee and thy glittering eye and thy skinny hand so brown. Fear not, fear not, thou wedding guest. This body drop not down. Alone, alone all, all alone Alone on the wide, wide sea.

[Angelina Stanford]

I love the rhythms of this poem, by the way. I hate to interrupt you, but, man.

[Thomas Banks]

No, that's love. I was thinking about, like, certain stanzas. It seems like he doesn't really do anything special in them. He might have a word which he repeats a few times. A very, very simple word which he repeats a few. A few times. Just like. I don't know, maybe this is a bad example, but I was listening to an interview with a jazz guitarist, and he was saying that it's interesting sometimes to set yourself a limit when you're playing an improvised solo. And instead of running all over the neck of your instrument, playing up and down the scales, just playing, seeing what you can. What you can coax out of maybe two or three notes by throwing in an interesting rhythmic pattern or something like that. And Coleridge. And obviously, this is not improvised. This is not jazz here. But alone, alone all. All alone, alone on the wide, wide sea. I think that's a really fine couplet. And it's one that. It's also one that you remember, too. I mean, I.

[Angelina Stanford]

That was one of those felt in my mouth. And, you know, we didn't say this, and we shouldn't have said this in the first episode, but poetry is meant to be heard. You should Read it out loud. You should. You should hear it. You should feel it in your tongue. And I'm also noting the use of alliteration here. So. Alliteration, that's an Anglo Saxon poetry technique. They didn't use rhyme, they used alliteration. But. And again, we talked at the beginning about r, I, M, E, rhyme. That. That's an Anglo Saxon concept for a rhythm. And he. Does he. He has a sustained rhythm through this whole thing.

[Thomas Banks]

Yes. And Christ would take no pity on my soul in agony. The many men so beautiful and they all dead did lie, and the million, million slimy things lived on. And so did I.

[Angelina Stanford]

That was such a great creepy.

[Thomas Banks]

I know.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yeah, like he's just a slimy thing too.

[Thomas Banks]

I looked upon the rotting sea and drew my eyes away. I looked upon the eldritch deck and there the dead men lay. I. I tried to find eldritch in the copy I was looking at and I did not have a note. Do you know what that is?

[Angelina Stanford]

I do not know what it is.

[Thomas Banks]

Eldritch.

[Angelina Stanford]

Is it a type of wood?

[Thomas Banks]

I. That was my thought, but I didn't know for sure.

[Angelina Stanford]

No, I don't know. It probably has some symbolic meaning, but I didn't look it up.

[Thomas Banks]

I looked to heaven and tried to pray. But wherever a prayer had gushed, a wicked whisper came and made my heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids. Actually, I think that's also this poem. Again, I don't know of any direct influence of Dante on this poem, but I think there are a lot of moments which Dante might have thought, oh, I kind of did that.

[Angelina Stanford]

There were some notes in the back that said he was pulling from Dante.

[Thomas Banks]

Okay. Yeah. Cuz. Inability to pray. Because you remember in all throughout the Inferno, Christ's name is never mentioned by any character.

[Angelina Stanford]

Not Inferno. Right?

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. Because no one can say it like he's. I mean, the fact that even when he feels an urge to pray, he can't. I mean, this is. It's kind of damnation in life.

[Angelina Stanford]

Cursed, damned hellish state as a result of killing the albatross.

[Thomas Banks]

Or is on the verge of it anyway.

[Angelina Stanford]

Just the concept of each man dropping off dead and him being left alone, that is very much a Dante image. Because in Inferno, everyone's trapped in a state of isolation. That's, you know, the famous quote by Jean Paul Sartre, Hell is other people. And that is the opposite of what Dante thinks. Dante shows you that hell is being alone, being trapped with yourself in your. In your sinful state.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

Now you're thinking about that?

[Thomas Banks]

No, I was thinking, like, Dante never flew coach, you know, around the holidays. Sorry, I'm just being. Just being cranky here.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yeah, I think we went through a whole enforced quarantine that made a lot of people feel like hell was being alone.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

It's not alone. It's. It's a. It's isolation, certain type of alone. That's right. It's. Hell is isolated. It's being cut off from God and cut off from you. It's a state of exile. You're just. You're cut off from everyone.

[Thomas Banks]

I closed my lids and kept them close till the balls like pulses beat for the sky and the sea and the sea and the sky Like a load on my weary eye and the dead were at my feet. Those three lines also. And also, I think I mentioned this last time, but you notice, like, every fifth stands also will randomly run to five lines or six lines instead of the, you know, the regular four. I think that that is to give it a sense of kind of what, for lack of a better expression? Primitive authenticity.

[Angelina Stanford]

Okay.

[Thomas Banks]

So that, you know, this doesn't look like a really carefully crafted poem.

[Angelina Stanford]

Doesn't look like an 18th century poem.

[Thomas Banks]

It seems like oddly artfully clumsy, at least, like, with an intention.

[Angelina Stanford]

No, it totally makes sense. That totally makes sense. So not like an 18th century poem.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. The cold sweat melted from their limbs. Knee rot, knee wreck. Did they? The look which they look. The look with which they looked on me had never passed away.

[Angelina Stanford]

I know. They all died with, like, this death, given the stink eye.

[Thomas Banks]

Now these next two lines. An orphan's curse would drag to hell a spirit from on high. Those are almost. Those are from William Blake, or there's something very much like that in William Blake.

[Angelina Stanford]

I figured that they were folklore, superstitions, but.

[Thomas Banks]

Oh, more horrible than that is the curse in a dead man's eye. Seven days, seven nights I saw that curse, and yet I could not die. And yes, another kind of biblical number. Two, seven days, a number of completion.

[Angelina Stanford]

Well, there's a lot of Jonah and the whale echoes here.

[Thomas Banks]

The moving moon went up the sky, and nowhere did abide Softly she was going up, and a star or two beside her beams bemocked the sultry main like morning frosts he spread. But where the ship's huge shadow lay the charmed water burnt always a still and awful red. Yeah, some of the apocalyptic imagery.

[Angelina Stanford]

Oh, I know. The water snakes in the. In the water.

[Thomas Banks]

It seems almost kind of like an HP Lovecraft story or something like that. At points.

[Angelina Stanford]

But then we're gonna have. We're gonna have a turn here.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. When things, in fact, can hardly get worse. And you know, you're. You're waiting. You're starting to think death might be a mercy at this point. Yeah. He receives a sudden and surprising benediction. Beyond the shadow of the ship I watched the water snakes they moved in tracks of shining white and when they reared the elfish light fell on off in hoary flakes within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire.

[Angelina Stanford]

I should say that elfish is a medieval term for just anything to do with fairies.

[Thomas Banks]

The magical light. Okay. Yeah, sure. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire Blue, glossy green and velvet black they coiled and swam and every track was a flash of golden fire. Oh, happy living things. No tongue their beauty might declare A spring of love gushed from my heart and I blessed them unaware. Sir, my kind saint took pity on me and I blessed them unaware Also. I remember in a class conversation about this poem that this moment also, a lot of people objected to because I'd said before that in our class discussion, it was one of those classes where the seats were arranged in a circle. I think I, I. But I. I think I remember deciding. Yeah. At some point in my. In my teaching career, based on memories of that class, that I didn't want to arrange seats in a circle. And if you do that, if you're a teacher who does that, you know, God bless you and all that. But. Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

Because you needed a little ponytail if you're gonna do that, right?

[Thomas Banks]

You need a ponytail. Yeah. If you're gonna do that. Yeah. You need to be like a. I don't know, a psych or sociology teacher if you're going to do that. But. Yeah. Again, not that I'm. Not that I'm bigoted, but I remember, like, this. This one guy in class who just, like the teacher, could not sell this poem to him. He had said that. Yeah. Every incident of this poem seems kind of arbitrary. He shoots an albatross, he's cursed. He blesses the water snakes, and he's reprieved. Like, it's. That there's just, like, not a lot of incident that actually. That actually seems as though, logically it would carry some kind of penalty. Or on the other hand, that seems as though it would release someone from that same penalty.

[Angelina Stanford]

It's all a very mystery, right?

[Thomas Banks]

It is a mystery. Yeah. And again, he would kind of spoil the magic of the poem as he. If he explained more than he does because yes, I had performed, I don't know, I had performed that virtuous act which was the opposite of the vicious act which got me into this predicament and therefore I was loosed from it. Like that would. Even if you put that into poetry with nature, I put myself back into harmony with nature. Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

Well, let's for just a second about Deism, because I think that's also a helpful background for understanding this poem and a lot of what the Romantics are doing. So Deism in a nutshell is the religious beliefs of the 18th century where essentially they take all the embarrassing stuff out of Christianity, right? All the miracles, all supernatural stuff, even a bodily resurrection, and it becomes a hyper rational religion. Good teachings, good morals, but, you know, nothing supernatural, nothing embarrassing. And, and they also have the idea that God is not a personal God and he's not present in nature. Not present in nature, not interfering in any kind of supernatural or miraculous way. They, they like to use the image of the clock maker. So, you know, God makes the universe, he sets it up.

[Thomas Banks]

It's a supreme mechanist.

[Angelina Stanford]

That's right. It's a mechanistic universe. So the opposite of the harmonious musical universe of the Middle Ages. And Jason Baxter's got a fabulous chapter on that in his book the medieval mind of C.S. lewis. The mechanistic universe versus the musical universe. But God has created the world with immutable laws that people like Newton can figure out. And so we can just understand everything. We can understand the mind of God because we can understand natural laws. And God winds up the universe like a clock and then just lets it go. So that means that they don't have a sense in their religious life of mystery or a personal God or praying for him or. You know, we always talk about things in, in modern American Christianity like, you know, tell me about your, your, your walk with the Lord and how's your personal relationship with Jesus going? You know, that, that was embarrassing. That's laughable.

[Thomas Banks]

This was, this was invoke him because the constitution of the universe requires him to be there. Kind of like the constitution of a limited monarchy like Britain needs a Hanoverian monarch at the top who doesn't really do very much.

[Angelina Stanford]

Right, Exactly.

[Thomas Banks]

Like Voltaire, this attitude is kind of summed up. There's a witnesses attributed to Voltaire. I don't know if this is in his conversation that was quoted or in one of his books, but he said if there were no God, it would be necessary to invent him.

[Angelina Stanford]

Right.

[Thomas Banks]

Because we need someone as we need A first cause, a first mover, but that's kind of all you need.

[Angelina Stanford]

Their. Their acknowledgment of a supreme being is just something that they feel like they. They can use and have control over. So one of the things that means then is that you would never, in an 18th century work, see references to saints and. And mysterious religious experiences. That's medieval stuff. That's weird and creepy and embarrassing. As far as the 18th century, unless.

[Thomas Banks]

You were mocking them. Again, he wrote a satirical, Famous satirical poem against Joan of Arc.

[Angelina Stanford]

But it makes sense that the satire actually was the dominant form of the 18th century.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, it's one thing that they. I mean, it's kind of a frivolous age in some ways, but that's one thing they're very good at.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yeah, they're very good at poking fun of things.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. Right.

[Angelina Stanford]

And so. So, yeah. So we need to understand that this is all intentional by him that I'm not going to explain. This religious experience is something supernatural has happened. There's supernatural beings, ghosts, saints, angels, demons. And that's part of our existence. And they are interacting with us. And I'm not going to explain how that is. And that's because everything in the 18th century is so overly explained that they explained it out of existence. They unweaved the rainbow, to quote Keats. All right, pick it up, dear.

[Thomas Banks]

Is it? I look to heaven.

[Angelina Stanford]

Notice that last one. The self, same moment.

[Thomas Banks]

The self, same moment. I could pray and from my neck so free the albatross fell off and sank like lead into the sea. O sleep, it is a gentle thing, beloved, from pole to pole to Mary Queen, the praise be given. She sent the gentle sleep from heaven that slid into my soul.

[Angelina Stanford]

So again, this is. This is, you know, the Queen of Heaven, Mary, the mother of our Lord is. Is intervening. She's sending sleep to him. This is. This is a very.

[Thomas Banks]

And she's not randomly selected because one of her titles is Maria Stella Maris Mary, Star of the Sea.

[Angelina Stanford]

Oh.

[Thomas Banks]

You know, it's one you would naturally invoke if you were a sailor. You know, that, you know, dire position. H. Also that the way that albatross falls off this load about him, that's this, you know, guilt that's weighing him.

[Angelina Stanford]

It's like these chains that break free.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. I was thinking also of actually that moment in the Pilgrim's Progress where Christian kneels down before the cross and. And the bird just falls off his back. That seemed to be the same kind of moment. Here. The silly buckets on the deck that had so long remained I dreamt that they were filled with dew and when I woke it rained. My lips were wet, my throat was cold, My garments all were dank. Sure I had drunken in my dreams and still my body drank. I moved and could not feel my limbs. I was so light almost I thought that I had died in sleep and was a blessed ghost. The roaring wind, it roared far off. It did not come near, but with its sound it shook the sails that were so thin and sear. The upper air bursts into life and a hundred fire flags sheen to and fro they are hurried about and to and fro and in and out the stars dance on between the coming wind doth roar more loud, the sails do sigh like sedge. The rain pours down from one black cloud and the moon is at its edge. Hark, Hark. The thick black cloud is cleft and the moon is at its side like water shot from some high crag the lightning falls with never a jag a river steep and wide. The strong wind reached the ship. It roared and dropped down like a stone Beneath the lightning and the moon the dead man gave a groan.

[Angelina Stanford]

It's getting so creepy.

[Thomas Banks]

They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose knee spake and he moved their eyes. It had been strange even in a dream to have seen those dead men rise. The helmsman steered, the ship moved on, yet never a breeze up blew the mariners all gan work the ropes where they were, which they were wont to do. They raised their limbs like lifeless tools. We were a ghastly crew.

[Angelina Stanford]

So we've got a ghost ship. And a lot of people were excitedly pointing out that this is like the Pirates of the Caribbean.

[Thomas Banks]

Yes, yes, yes, the goat.

[Angelina Stanford]

The ghost ship.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, I kind of expected that to come up at some point. I hoped it wouldn't, but you know, it did. The body of my brother's son stood by me, Knee to knee the body and I pulled at one rope, but he said not to me. And I quaked to think of my own voice. How frightful it would be. The daylight dawned. They dropped their arms and clustered round the mast. Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths and from their bodies, bodies Past, around, around flew each sweet sound they darted to, then darted to the sun. Slowly the sounds came back again, now mixed now one by one. Sometimes a dropping from the sky I heard the lavrock sing Sometimes all little birds that are how they seem to fill the sea and air with their sweet jargoning. And now it was like all instruments now like a lonely flute and now it is an English angel song that makes the heavens be mute. So harmony steals back into nature. And nature is not simply. Nature is not simply the living face of rot, of ruin, death and all that kind of.

[Angelina Stanford]

It's a ton of resurrection imagery. Even while they're all ghosts. Yeah, but even the bodies that are lying there dead, that standing up, I mean, that, that is a resurrection image.

[Thomas Banks]

And it's, I mean, since, I mean, they were lying on the deck and they were dead, but they were staring at him while they were dead. And it was almost like they were kind of in this sort of in between space where they didn't have any rest, but, you know, life had been taken from them. So it's almost kind of like a harrowing of hell. Oh yeah, yeah, kind of.

[Angelina Stanford]

And the fact that maybe that's going too far, doesn't know if he's in a dream or not. So that, that's all. And that's, that's all kind of vague, but like. So for Edgar Allan Poe, who is the American Coleridge, the dream state is the world of the imagination. Anyway. Yeah, I'm, I'm being careful not to overanalyze this actually.

[Thomas Banks]

It seems that a lot of the Romantics, dreams and the phenomena of dreaming were the subjects that inspired a lot of them because Charles Dickens. Not Charles Dickens, sorry, Charles Lamb, he also wrote a couple of essays about dreams and so did Thomas de Quincey and others. And I mean, yeah, I mean, dreams, you know, you awake and all of us are tempted to dismiss whatever we dreamed about as, you know, vanity and, you know, the idol, you know, the idle playing of the subconscious or something. But yeah, I think really for kind of the first time in literary history, dreams are now fodder for poetry and other things of that kind.

[Angelina Stanford]

So this makes sense, especially when you consider perhaps some of the excesses of the Romantic period with things like drugs. It makes sense that when you have a culture that has, you know, wrung out every ounce of mystery and who convinces you that all that there is is what you see and what you touch, people get to be desperate for anything that points to the. That there might be some other reality. The dream state would be one of those other places, might be drug induced states. But I think we see the same sort of thing in our own culture. The more and more we become hyper naturalist materialist, the more that we see a fascination in horror movies and psychic hotlines and, you know, Ouija boards. And it, it makes sense to me that people will start to look in Potentially dark places, because there are no good places for them to look, if that makes sense. They become desperate because, I mean, we're. We're made. We're made. We're, you know, we're spiritual beings. We're made to know that. That this isn't the only existence. There is more. We're made that way. We long for it. And when you squash it, I mean, George McDonnell says, if you. If you deny all of the good places for the imagination to go for from a child, you're not going to stop their imagination. You're. They're just going to make their imagination go into dark places.

[Thomas Banks]

C.S. lewis wrote about this somewhere where he said that in his early life when he was discovering. He doesn't say Coleridge in particular, but, you know, some of the great imaginatives. He said, you can find all manner of things that are healthy and unhealthy. I mean, the desire for the wondrous and the otherworldly is healthy so far as it goes, but it can also be corrupted into a desire for the merely strange or from there to the twisted and the vile. And he said that when he was young, he kind of found all three of those things in his reading life.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yeah. That's why he said he credited George MacDonald with baptizing his imagination and saving.

[Thomas Banks]

For the otherworldly, but something that's also healthy and pure. All right, so it ceased. Yet still the sails made on a pleasant noise till noon A noise like of a hidden brook in the leafy month of June that to the sleeping woods all night singeth a quiet tune. Listen, oh, listen. Thou wedding guest Mariner, thou hast thy will. For that which comes out of thine eye Doth make my body and soul be still. Never sadder tale was known to a man of woman born Sadder and wiser Thou wedding guest Thou wilt rise to morrow morn Never sadder tale was heard by a man of woman born. The mariners all returned to work as silent as before. The mariners all gan pulled the ropes but look at me they nold thought I I am as thin as air they cannot me behold, till noon we silently sailed on yet never a breeze did breathe. Slowly and smoothly went the ship Ship moved onward from beneath under the keel nine fathom deep from the land of mist and snow the spirit slid and it was he that made the ship to go. The sails at noon left off their tune and the ship stood still also the sun right up above the mast had fixed her to the ocean but in a minute she gan stir with A short, uneasy motion, backwards and forwards, forwards half her length with a short uneasy motion. Then, like a pawing horse let go, she made a sudden bound. It flung the blood into my head and I fell into a swound. How long it came that fit I lay, I have not to declare. But ere my living life returned, I heard and in my soul discern two voices in the air. Is it he, Quoth one, Is this the man by him who died on cross? With his cruel bow he laid full low the harmless Alps albatross. This spirit who bideth by himself in the land of mist and snow. He loved the bird that loved the man who shot him with his bow. The other was a softer voice, as soft as honeydew. Quoth he, the man hath penance done, and penance more will do.

[Angelina Stanford]

All right, so this is a parallel to the earlier two weird, creepy, supernatural voices.

[Thomas Banks]

Yes, it is.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yeah, but these are good voices and.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. And you remark about the crossbow. It's a crossbow for a reason, as if kind of to emphasize that fact, in case we've forgotten. He juxtaposes them one line by another.

[Angelina Stanford]

In that one stanza, he doesn't say albatross without saying cross. And then you read. I'm sure you did, too. You read essays about it where they're saying, we don't have any idea what the albatross symbolizes. Can you read? The man never says albatross in this poem without putting the word cross with it.

[Thomas Banks]

I don't know for sure that Harold Bloom makes that mistake, but. But that's kind of a Harold Bloomy sort of mistake, say, for, like, I don't know, tell me I'm wrong. But doesn't he do that with Beowulf, where he says, yeah, there's really nothing religious at all in this poem.

[Angelina Stanford]

And it's that with everything. He makes the claim about everything. There's nothing religious here. Because, I mean, I guess if it's not like a flashing neon sign that says John 3:16, he doesn't see it.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. The spirit who bideth.

[Angelina Stanford]

No, we did all that, so now we're on six.

[Thomas Banks]

But tell me, tell me. Speak again, thy soft response, Renewing what makes that ship drive on so fast. What is the ocean doing? Second VOICE still as a slave before his lord, the ocean hath no blast his great bright eye most silently up to the moon is cast if he make no which way to go, for she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see how graciously she looketh down on him.

[Angelina Stanford]

FIRST VOICE.

[Thomas Banks]

But why Drives on that ship so fast Withouten wave or wind. Second voice the air is cut away before and closes from behind. Fly, brother, fly. More high, more high or we shall be belated. For slow and slow that ship will go. When the mariner's trance is abated, I woke and we were sailing on as in a gentler weather. Twas night, calm night. The moon was high. The dead men stood together. All stood together on the deck for a charnel dungeon fitter. All fixed on me, Their stony eyes that in the moon did glitter the pang. The curse with which they died had never passed away. I could not draw my e'en from theirs. Ne turn from them to pray. No, excuse me. Ne turned them up to pray. And in its time the spell was snapped and I could move my een. I looked far and forth, but little saw of what might else be seen. Like one that on a lonely road doth walk in fear and dread, and having once turned round, walks on, because he knows a frightful fiend doth close behind him tread. But soon there breathed a wind on me. Ne sound, ne motion made. Its path was not upon the sea in ripple or in shade. It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow gale of spring. It mingled strangely with my fears, yet it felt like a welcoming. Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, yet she sailed softly too. Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze on me alone it blew. O dream of joy. Is this indeed the lighthouse top I see? Is this the hill? Is this the kirk? Is this mine own country?

[Angelina Stanford]

We've got a homecoming and a church.

[Thomas Banks]

We drifted o'er the harbor bar and I with sobs did pray. Oh, let me be awake, my God, or let me sleep alway.

[Angelina Stanford]

So he still doesn't know if it's a dream, but if it's a dream, he doesn't want to wake up.

[Thomas Banks]

The harbor bay was clear as glass, so smooth. And actually, I was thinking that a lesser gothic writer here, it seems that you can always tell kind of a hack in this type of writing, because he especially or she, enjoys reveling in misery for its own sake. Because I was thinking, I don't know, some modern nihilist writer might at this moment interject. But no, he really was hallucinating. He hadn't been brought home. There was no forgiveness or benediction. And he really was just lost, dying at sea. And the end.

[Angelina Stanford]

Mariner Club.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, sure.

[Angelina Stanford]

It's all in his mind.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. Right.

[Angelina Stanford]

Thank you for getting my obscure film.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah. And a Pixie Stone started playing and. Yeah. Then the world collapsed yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

There goes my mind. Okay.

[Thomas Banks]

And all of 90s kids.

[Angelina Stanford]

The 90s kids are excited now.

[Thomas Banks]

We drifted o'er the harbour bar and I with sobs did pray O let me be awake, my God, or let me sleep alway. The harbour bay was clear as glass so smoothly it was strewn and on the bay the moonlight lay in the shadow of the moon the moonlight bay was white all o'er till Rising from the same full many shapes that shadowed were like as of torches Came a little distance from the prow those dark red shadows were. But soon I saw that my own flesh was red as in a glare. I turned my head in fear and dread and by the holy rood.

[Angelina Stanford]

Okay, so that's an Anglo Saxon word.

[Thomas Banks]

Another cross.

[Angelina Stanford]

Holy wood. It's. Yeah, Hollywood friends means the cross. Holy wood.

[Thomas Banks]

The bodies had advanced and now before the mask they stood. They lifted up their stiff right arms, they held them straight and tight and each right arm burnt like a torch, a torch that's borne upright. Their stony eyeballs glittered on in the red and smoky light. I prayed and turned my head away forth looking as before. There was no breeze upon the bay, no wave against the shore the rock shone bright, the kirk no less, that stands above the rock. The moonlight steeped in silentness, the steady weathercock. And the bay was white with silent light Till rising from the same full many shapes that shadows were in crimson colors came a little distance from the prow those crimson shadows were. I turned my eyes upon the deck. O Christ, what saw I there? Each course lay flat, lifeless and flat. And by the holy rood, a man all light, a seraph man on every core course There stood again.

[Angelina Stanford]

I don't understand how anybody says I don't see the religious imagery in here. So as if we didn't see the imagery already of them, you know, their hands being like torches of light. Now they actually have a seraph, an angel with a flaming sword standing on top of all of them.

[Thomas Banks]

This seraph band each waved his hand. It was a heavenly sight. They stood as signals to the land, each one a lovely light. This seraph band each waved his hand. No voice did they impart, no voice. But oh, the silence sank like music on my heart. Eftsoons I heard the dash of oars, I heard the pilot's cheer. My head was turned perforce away and I saw a boat appear. Then vanished all the lovely lights. The bodies rose anew with silent pace each to his place Came back the ghastly crew. The wind that shade nor motion made on me Alone. It blew the pilot and the pilot's boy. I heard them coming fast. Dear Lord in heaven. It was a joy the dead men could not blast. I saw a third. I heard his voice. It is the hermit. Good. He singeth loud his godly hymns that he makes in the wood. He'll shrive my soul. He'll wash away the albatross's blood. This. Did you think that he needed to. To bring in a hermit here?

[Angelina Stanford]

Seems a little on the nose to you.

[Thomas Banks]

Well, no, I don't think it's a mistake exactly.

[Angelina Stanford]

It's very medieval.

[Thomas Banks]

It seems more sacramental, perhaps, which is, I guess, appropriate to this poem.

[Angelina Stanford]

Well, I mean, he's looking for absolution.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

He wants something to wash the albatross's blood from him.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

And so this hermit priest comes.

[Thomas Banks]

No, because I remember again. Yeah, it is. It is. And it seems like it, you know, atmospherically fits the poem. It doesn't seem like it's an intrusion exactly, but I remember in. In college, like one of my. One of my class readings, we got into an argument about this part as well, that. Wait, there's just a monk there. There's a monk that's just like, standing by the dock of the bay or something like that. Who. The pilot and the pilot's boy get into the boat with them. I remember one student saying that. He doesn't seem very realistic, but.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yeah, about this is realistic.

[Thomas Banks]

They were. I mean, they were okay with the albatross and the cursed ship and all that, but, like, the. I guess the monk was not, you know, we're not buying. The monk, the hermit good. Lives in that wood which slopes down to the sea. How loudly his sweet voice he rears. He loves to talk with mariners that come from a far country. He kneels at morn and noon and eve he hath a cushion plump it is the moss that wholly hides the rotted old oak stump.

[Angelina Stanford]

All right, so they think he's dead because he's just lying there. Right. I moved my lips, the pilot shrieked and fell down in a fit. The holy hermit raised his eyes and prayed where he did sit, I took the oars. The pilot's boy, who now doth crazy go left loud and long and all the while his eyes went to and fro Ha, ha, quoth he, Full plain I see the devil knows how to row. And now all in mine own country I stood on the firm land. The hermit stepped forth from the boat and scarcely he could stand. Oh, shreve me, shrive me, holy man. The hermit Crossed his brow. Say quick. Quoth he, I bid thee say, what manner man art thou forthwith? This frame of mind was wrenched with a woeful agony which forced me to begin my tale. And then it left me free. Boy, that's. I feel like that's quite an image about confession. Right, you. You get it all out, and then you're set free. Since then, at an uncertain hour, now oft times and now fewer, that anguish comes and makes me tell my ghastly adventure. I pass like night from land to land. I have strange power of speech. That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me. To him my tale I teach. What loud uproar bursts from that door. The wedding guests are there. But in the garden bower the bride and bridesmaid singing are. And hark the little vesper bell which biddeth me to prayer. O wedding guest, this soul hath been alone On a wide, wide sea so lonely. Twas that God himself scarce seemed there to be. O, sweeter than the marriage feast. Tis sweeter far to me to walk together to the kirk with a goodly company to walk together to the kirk and all together pray While each to his great father bends. Old men and babes and loving friends and youths and maidens gay. Farewell, farewell. But this I tell to thee, thou wedding guest. He prayeth well, who loveth well both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best, who loveth best all things both great and small. For the dear God who love us he made and loveth all.

[Thomas Banks]

Those are.

[Angelina Stanford]

Well, there's those lines.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, but I was going to say those lines, they share it. An interesting distinction with William Cooper's God Moves in a mysterious way that I think that I've heard those quoted as scripture by someone who wasn't aware that where they came from. But, I mean, that's. That's like kind of a. You. You've got it made as a writer if someone quotes you as, you know, being from the Bible, when in fact you aren't. So I. I don't know. I kind of got to say respect there.

[Angelina Stanford]

Right up there with Karl Marx.

[Thomas Banks]

I've also heard that. Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

You can't just leave that comment.

[Thomas Banks]

Oh, yes.

[Angelina Stanford]

People confuse certain parts of the Communist Manifesto. I think it's in the. From the Bible.

[Thomas Banks]

Workers of the world unite.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yeah, no, that. Well, how is it to each according to his need.

[Thomas Banks]

Oh. Oh, yeah, that. No, it does sound kind of biblical.

[Angelina Stanford]

People have thought that was in the Bible. The mariner whose eye is bright, whose beard with age is hor is gone. And now the wedding guest turned from the bridegroom's door. He went like one that hath been stunned and is of since forlorn a sigh, a sadder and a wiser man, he rose the morrow morn. Now, earlier the Mariner had told him, tomorrow morning, wedding guests, you'll be sadder and wiser. So he's learned something.

[Thomas Banks]

I'm glad he doesn't sum it up for us though, like if you. What if you were to see. No, no, no, no. He writes a sequel, what the wedding Guest learned. And it's simply him reflecting on this in kind of a. You are old Father William, sort of.

[Angelina Stanford]

No, we'll leave that to literature guides and classical schools to say, what did the Mariner, what did the wedding guests learn? Write a 5 paragraph, paragraph essay on that?

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, I, I, I'll admit I've probably given assignments as bad as that in my teaching career. No, I'm none particularly come to mind, but I'm sure it's, you know, things.

[Angelina Stanford]

You find out after you're married.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, it's, I think I actually came across, I, I, I have been doing all sorts of weird Google searches for Coleridge and, you know, Coleridge interpretations. And I was reading I.A. richards Psychological interpretation of Coleridge. He thought that Coleridge was like one of the first great modern psychoanalysts before the term was coined. But, but yes, I also have found, I also found someone, some, some blogger, I don't know, some, some teacher who has a blog who claims that those lines are deliberately idolatrous. He prayeth well, who loveth well, all things both great and small.

[Angelina Stanford]

How is that idolatrous?

[Thomas Banks]

Because he's valuing creation equally with the Creator. I know that's not, but it's like.

[Angelina Stanford]

That'S not what's happening.

[Thomas Banks]

No, no, but, yeah, well, because like valuing animal life as though that was something that pleased God. So. Yeah, I mean, I don't know, should you be out there shooting more albatrosses? I don't know, but that's, I guess some, some people you can't satisfy. Yeah, Yeah. I need his conversion experience to be more obvious here. I need him to say the sinner's prayer, you know, word for word. There is that type of reader, though, who needs every, everything to have some kind of conversion.

[Angelina Stanford]

Absolutely. Where's the explicit gospel message? I'm a child of the 80s. I well remember that people saying it couldn't be Christian unless it had an explicitly explicit gospel message. There has never Been any question to me that this is a Christian allegory. I mean, I went to a secular university and it was taught to me that way, but I was taught by old school professors. I understand now everyone acts like it's debatable what this is about. It's not debatable to me. But I also think that it resists a clear interpretation. And I'm not going to do that now. I'm not going to line everything up one by one. I don't think. Think we're supposed to, but I think that the. The wedding guest has heard this tale and has come to see that he lives in a mysterious and supernatural world where lots of things happen that are not easily explained and.

[Thomas Banks]

Where there are forces within nature that are not likely to be despised and which make their presence felt in inexplicable and terrible and wonderful ways.

[Angelina Stanford]

And the connection between the spiritual realm and nature is. That's a big part of the medieval conception. I mean, even saying that, you know, you can, you can know God from the book of Revelation, that is the Bible, but you can also know him from the book of nature. That's the two great ways that God reveals himself and those, those things are in connection. And that to be out of harmony with nature is to be out of harmony with God. I mean, I can see how some modern person might think that that's pantheism. It was not pantheism, but it was an understanding that, oh, to quote Malcolm Guy, nature is the poem God is writing about himself. So, I mean, I think the albatross is clearly a Christ figure. But I also think it's true that this man has defiled nature. He. He has gone against nature. But to be against nature is also to be against God. If one has a proper understanding of what nature is.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm trying to think of something to say on that score because, I mean, even, even the word nature is. A former colleague of mine who was a philosopher by trade says that amongst philosophers, the definition of nature is apart from maybe the definition of, you know, knowledge, the word that they disagree on most.

[Angelina Stanford]

No, it's true. I think a lot of modern people treat nature like it's so much raw material for us to just, you know, mold into what we want. And I think that's part, I mean that, that's part of what Coleridge is pushing against that hyper rationalist, materialistic view of, of nature and science and, and having control over nature for power. And, and that's all part of this. You know, you can't control nature. You can't control God. None of these things are easily understood, reduced and controlled. These things are bigger than you. And you might think it's no big deal to shoot an albatross. It's no big deal to, you know, cursed God. It's no big deal to do any of these things.

[Thomas Banks]

Assemble a body from the parts of dead bodies.

[Angelina Stanford]

Exactly. But all of these things are going to be ideas that come with a great deal of consequences.

[Thomas Banks]

Well, I enjoyed this. I enjoyed this. Sorry, this. This episode. I found myself kind of at a loss for more to say than I've already said. But it was good to have an occasion to read this poem again because I had not done so in a number of years and.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yeah, well, I know. I thought about how we should approach the end. And I think it's right for us to make the choice not to tie it all up in a neat bow, because I think he's deliberately resisting that. I think this is a poem that doesn't allow you to tie it up in a neat bowl. And that's the point. And it's not. This is not relativism. This isn't him saying there is no meaning. This is him saying there's meaning. It's important.

[Thomas Banks]

There's perhaps too many.

[Angelina Stanford]

Yes, the consequences, to summarize, are dire, but they're not easily comprehended by us. You just have to sit in the mystery of it. But it's a. It's a mystery that he sits in that ultimately leads him to praise God, which is. I mean, that's. That's the point.

[Thomas Banks]

This poem is. It's. It's one of those. I haven't found actually much. I. I thought there was going to be a lot, you know, of sound readings of this. I mean, surely people have been writing about this poem for 200 years, but there's really not even. I even found, my gosh. A academic who's not by any means a stupid person. Actually, I've seen her interviewed, and I think she's quite smart. Camille Palia? Yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

No, I've read several books. I have a lot of respect for mine.

[Thomas Banks]

She said that the mariner, the wedding guest and the bridegroom. And the bridegroom, of course, never does anything. In this poem, he's simply referred to all represent different parts of different sides of Coleridge's personality.

[Angelina Stanford]

Okay, so. Okay.

[Thomas Banks]

And that his is a disintegrated personality which needs to be reintegrated with itself.

[Angelina Stanford]

Let me. As long as you open the door with IA Richards about Psychological readings. Let me just say this.

[Thomas Banks]

I was actually trying to get you worked up.

[Angelina Stanford]

If you couldn't tell, it worked. Some deep cleansing breaths. I'll need to meditate after this. Meditate on the Albatross. If you do not believe in a transcendent realm, Ia Richards does not. Camille Paglia does not. These are not religious people. Then the only thing that you can grasp onto to give life meaning is looking deep inside yourself, into your own psychology, into your own psyche, your own subconscious, even that language. Subconscious. In the Middle Ages, actually, really? Up until roughly the late 18, late 1700s, all the way through the. The mid-1800s. I would say that's about where the shift is happening. In that pre modern sensibility, the center point for reality exists out and up, outside of you and up. You know, you lift up your hearts to the Lord. You lift up my eyes. And if I want to know what's real, I orient myself out of myself and up. But after this shift, the source of reality becomes down and in. Deep down in myself, I'm gonna, you know, go into my subconscious. That is language. To say that the sources of meaning are deep down inside of you to be uncovered. And that makes sense, that that's where they place it, because they have rejected any kind of transcendent reality. So then what happens in terms of reading? And we're not saying that they're not, you know, things going on in a character's mind that might be interesting in a story. My point is the greatest meaning that any of those literary readers can place is deep down inside us. And so their whole orientation is in the wrong direction. And so, no, the source of meaning for this poem is not deep down in Coleridge's psyche. That's the biographical fallacy. That's psychological readings. He did not write this poem as one long journal entry so that he could understand himself. And if that was the point of this, there would be no point in us reading it. The what makes art valuable is its inherent, transcendent nature. We don't need art if all it is is just vomiting our psyche on a page.

[Thomas Banks]

Vomiting our psyche on a page.

[Angelina Stanford]

Have I made clear how much I despise that kind of reading? I mean, Cole Ranger, he would. He would hate it. One last thought. In our attempt to redeem the Romantics here, a few people I saw comments.

[Thomas Banks]

For some, the romantics are irredeemable, Ms. Stanley.

[Angelina Stanford]

That's right. But. But I appreciate it. I'm so fond of them. But I did see some comments of people saying they really, really Appreciated having the Romantics redeemed, that they've. They've been drawn to them and then sort of felt guilty about it because they had been told these are all just, you know, terrible blasphemers, et cetera, et cetera. And I hope we've showed that that is not the case. It's a much more complex landscape than that. But my final thought about all of this, to maybe help you feel justified, is Lewis spoke very fondly of the Romantics. And even when he was describing his own literary theory, he called it a Romantic theory, even though he said he hoped to avoid some of the excesses of the Romantics.

[Thomas Banks]

William Blake's nudism, for instance, that's a different story.

[Angelina Stanford]

But one would hope. One would hope.

[Thomas Banks]

Call me for details, but even that.

[Angelina Stanford]

Even that has an interesting backstory, but. And he even talked about the Romantics as, you know, just as being part of his faith journey. He talked about that too. Not that he's based journey, but yeah, like, you know, so, so I'm hoping that you see that the Romantics are not what you thought they were. They're not just a bunch of revolutionaries who hate God. There's a much bigger picture here for to understand them. But Owen Barfield, who died in 1991, which always just really gets me right here because when I think, man, Lewis, if you'd have just cut back to maybe one pack of cigarettes a day, maybe you would have lived a little bit longer than you did. But Owen Barfield, who died in 1991, he said about the Inklings, that's actually.

[Thomas Banks]

One of the more, I think, rhetorically sound anti smoking ads. You would have gotten more Lewis books if he had only lived another. Yeah, yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

And. Well, no, but you realize he died in 1963, and Owen Barfield until 91, that's, that's when you just feel like, oh my gosh, I could have, you know, Lewis could have lived a much, much longer time. But Owen Barfil said that upon reflection, that he could see that the Inklings were the last of the Romantics. Now we just have dead air. I'm waiting for you to say something.

[Thomas Banks]

No, I was thinking about that. I, I mean, I, I mean that, that expression, question the last Romantics. Yeah, I mean, that's, that's Graham.

[Angelina Stanford]

Graham Huff's Graham Huff on the prerequisite.

[Thomas Banks]

Very, very able book. Yeah, but it's. I, I have talked about this with my students and I can never quite articulate what I mean by this, but I think that Romanticism was so powerful as a literary movement and recovered. Recovered. Not everything worth recovering, but it recovered a good deal stylistically and otherwise. That it's, it's still kind of with us in both.

[Angelina Stanford]

Agreed.

[Thomas Banks]

Both good ways and bastardized ways.

[Angelina Stanford]

Agreed.

[Thomas Banks]

The Twilight Saga, for example, is a.

[Angelina Stanford]

Bastardized romanticism about, you know, horror.

[Thomas Banks]

It's kind of like.

[Angelina Stanford]

Well, yeah, because we, we've starved all the good avenues of the imagination. But you know, Lewis and Tolkien are doing the same kinds of things. You know, when you think that they're writing at the same time as Fitzgerald and Hemingway and they're writing fairy tales and, you know, epic fantasies and that puts it in that context. They're pushing back against that.

[Thomas Banks]

Yeah, yeah, that's. Well, that's well said.

[Angelina Stanford]

Well, I hope you guys have enjoyed this series and it's made you reconsider perhaps what you thought about the Romantics. And again, we have those other series where you can pursue more of these ideas. I mean, this is my favorite thing to talk about. So it comes out pretty much in every episode. The imagination and the value of the imagination. So don't forget Dr. Anne Phillips. Webinars coming up November 12th. Houseofhumaneletters.com to find out about that. And don't forget about Dr. Baxter's new book, why Literature Still Matters. And you can pick up your [e-mail] and Dr. Baxter will be with us next week to talk about that book. And you better bring your A game there, Banks. We've got lots to talk about. We gotta, we gotta, you know, act like we know a thing or two about why literature matters.

[Thomas Banks]

Oh, yeah, yeah. I. Baxter seems formidable to me. I. Whenever I meet another teacher, another academic for the first time, and I, I hope this doesn't come across as unduly aggressive, but I try to stump them with a question.

[Angelina Stanford]

I've noticed this about you.

[Thomas Banks]

I know it makes me kind of probably awkward to be like a dinner.

[Angelina Stanford]

With meeting a couple me and I get it right? You just look at me moon eyed.

[Thomas Banks]

Oh, okay. Yeah, yeah.

[Angelina Stanford]

So it works for me too. After Dr. Baxter's here, we will be starting another series, our last full series of the year. And we will be looking at Oscar Wilde's the Ideal hus. Husband. We had such a good time doing the Importance of Being Earnest. I'm really looking forward to the Ideal Husband. We'll have a good laugh and it'll be a lot of fun to close out the year. So make sure you get a copy of that and join us then. Until next time, keep crafting your literary life because stories will save the world. Thank you for listening to the Literary Life Podcast brought to you by our loyal patreon sponsors. Visit HouseOfHumaneLetters.com to find Angelina and Thomas and to sign up for our newsletter with podcast schedules and more. And keep up with [e-mail] Join the Conversation at our member only Patreon Forum or our Facebook discussion group. Visit patreon.com theliterarylife to find out how you can sponsor this podcast and get great bonus content. Don't forget to subscribe, rate and review and check out our sister podcasts, the New Mason Jar and the well Read Poem. And now for a poem read by poet Thomas Banks.

[Thomas Banks]

By A.E. houseman Good Night ensured release, imperishable peace have these for yours. While sea abides and land and earth's foundations stand, and heaven endures, when earth's foundations flee, Nor sky, nor land, nor sea at all is found. Content you let them burn, it is not your concern. Sleep on, sleep sound.