  Andrew Belsey |
Is "Love's Labour's Lost" Lost on us Today?
Andrew Belsey was born in the Fenlands of East Anglia, England, where since Roman times people have battled with nature to keep the rivers and the sea off the fertile farmland, some of it below sea level.
He has been living for 30 years in Cardiff, Wales, where he teaches philosophy at Cardiff University. As a academic writer, he jointly edited with Ruth Chadwick, the book, Ethical Issues in Journalism and the Media (Routledge Press, 1992), which has been translated into Italian and Turkish.
He has composed poetry in many genres, both free and formal, for over forty years. His formal verse includes sonnets. He has at times introduced controlled irregularities of rhythm or rhyme to some of his sonnets, which he considers as slightly experimental.
His poetry has appeared in many print and electronic journals, including New Headland, Peer Poetry International, Philosophy Now, Above Ground Testing, Poetry Life and Times, Comrades and Snakeskin. He is the author of Anaximander (Outposts Publications, 1974) and A Collection of Four-Line Poems 1962-1999 (Llwynywll Press, 2000). Andrew’s imagery often draws from concrete and visual elements, examples of which have appeared in various anthologies and magazines, and in Going Round in Circles [and a Square]: Concrete Poems which Might or Might not be Circular Arguments (or Vice Versa) (Llwynywll Press, 2nd ed., 2002).
The sonnet which is here reviewed has until now been unpublished.
Should you wish to contact Andrew, his e-mail address is: belsey@cardiff.ac.uk
FERDINAND [Reads]
His inspiration for Lost Love draws from Shakespeare. His sonnet calls to my mind the passage I have quoted from the bard’s great play, Love’s Labour’s Lost. So without further ado, here is:
© Andrew Belsey, 2002
Does this sonnet not indeed echo Ferdinand’s exalted sentiments in Act 4, Scene III of Love’s Labour’s Lost? — apparently so. Andrew seems familiar with Shakespeare’s own often expressed concerns over the passage of Time, and the ground swell of memories that wells up for each and every one of us, as our life marches ever on and on towards inescapable Death.
Nor need we search far to find similar sentiments verbalized, not only by Shakespeare himself, but by many an English poet since his day, not to say the least such greats as the Renaissance French sonneteer, Louise Labé, John Keats and Elizabeth Barrett Browning:
Let us recall, if we will, a few verses of theirs to illustrate the point:
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) Sonnet XXIII
– or listen intently as John Keats likewise exults in the sun and sky:
John Keats (1795-1821)
Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861): De Profundis
Quintus Horatius Flaccus (65 B.C. - 8 B.C.)
Of particular interest is the entire octave of Andrew’s sonnet, which, like that of Shakespeare’s Sonnet XXIII, figuratively revolves around the sun in all its splendour. Here the poet verges on the dramatic as he evokes his (or for that matter, anyone’s) awe at the sun, which works its wonders on humankind today, just as it always has throughout the long history of poetry.
The sun, along with the moon, has in fact played a central symbolic, and oftentimes, key allegorical role in both Epic and Lyrical poetry from the earliest times. Homer and the Greek poets deeply revered to the Sun as one of the prime sources of all natural and supernatural vital energy alike, and of life (gr. bios) itself and its spiritual manifestations (“psyche” or the soul).
Indeed, throughout the history of poetry, both the sun and the moon have played such a primary symbolic/ allegorical role that they have been used thousands of times over as opposite or complimentary phases of the central, defining imagery for countless poems in all genres. A recent Vallance Review was dedicated entirely to the influence of the Moon on the natural world and on our affections [2].
Aside from Andrew Belsey’s sonnet, in the examples cited here, both William Shakespeare and Louise Labé make the sun the springboard with which to launch their sonnets on their way to their cumulative thematic and symbolic Pilgrim's Progress of Love.
Here too, both Keats’ and Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poems refer indirectly to the sun. Keat’s pronounced emphasis on the colour blue also signifies, for it is after all the sun which causes the sky to become so brilliantly blue, thereby instilling him with such a sense of exaltation and wonder — a heavenward gaze which so closely resembles those of both Shakespeare and Andrew Belsey.
On the other hand, blue, in its darkest shades, is the colour of grief and mourning. While E.B. Browning’s deeply stirring ode, De Profundis, does not actually mention this colour in the quotation given here, nonetheless the whole tonal pattern of the poem easily provokes feelings of “the blues” and its concomitant emotional responses in us, as readers.
This shadowy quality is even more in evidence in Horace’s equally disturbing, yet compellingly haunting Ode, where the Latin frequently resorts to labials (b, l, m and n). These consonants, in a language as lyrically melodic as either Latin or Italian, are literary representations of a mournful frame of mind.
That too is echoed so compellingly in the lines I have quoted from Shakespeare’s, Love’s Labour’s Lost, where we see a strikingly similar deployment of labials even in the play’s title, and where, in Ferdinand’s exquisitely phrased dialogue, not one, but all of the images I have alluded to, are so masterfully brought to life before our very eyes. Shakespeare’s reference to:
What amazes me, though, more than anything else is the extent to which Andrew Belsey’s 21st. Century sonnet not only faithfully mirrors the imagery prevalent in Shakespeare’s sonnet, in one case it might even be construed to verge on mimicry, where our clear and present poet asseverates:
Is this conclusion not highly reminiscent of Shakespeare’s own versed thoughts, where has says? —
Now, whether Andrew has used this image deliberately, in full knowledge of Shakespeare’s I cannot begin to guess. But that is a moot point. What matters is that he has used this image in his own way, in his own unique sonnet. The fact that some readers might recognize a clear echo of Ferdinand’s spoken words on stage is an added bonus for those people.
Anyone aware of this parallelism in imagery between these two literary genres (the Shakespearian play and the modern sonnet) would probably have a heightened awareness of the dramatic effect of Belsey’s sonnet, which, by the way, has already benefited hugely from the strong reminiscences of Shakespeare’s Sonnet XXIII vividly evoked by its own octave. So in this sense, our modern sonnet has scored a double coup.
Briefly cross-referencing with Andrew’s sonnet the other poems we have cited for our purposes here, we find that he has managed to elicit echoes of practically all of the poetic elements and sentiments expressed in the poems of his forbears, though naturally the sequencing and spatial co-ordination of his imagery is necessarily going to produce a unique new “paradigm” of Love’s Labour’s Lost, viz; one which is appropriate to our life and times, in the Twenty First Century.
Let us observe these threads connecting Andrew’s sonnet with the poems, not only of his ancestors here quoted, but with the love-stricken lyrics of any one of countless other poets throughout the ages any of us might presently have in mind.
With reference to John Keats, we listen to Belsey’s verses reverberate and echo simultaneously through space and time, where he exults (I have… etc.):
What, pray tell, is the context of Keats’ sonnet? That too, is the theme, the notion, the process and the ultimate goal of human spiritual “seeking”.
But such seeking often assumes darker if not outright melancholic proportions, as it does in E.B. Browning’s, De Profundis, a haunting poem from the “shadow side”, as Carl Jung might have it.
Here again we find Belsey also echoing her penchant for sad, though hardly morbid, reminiscing on the long-term effects and outcomes of actively loving another human soul. Not only does his entire sestet ring true to Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s expressions of tender longing tinged with “blue” regret, but also to the last two lines of the octave:
Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose! [3] 1. Imagery: As indicated in previous Vallance Reviews, “conceits” were recurrent conventions common to most of Renaissance love poetry, particularly sonnets, regardless of language (English, French or Italian for instance). Actually, many such conceits have survived almost intact, if indeed somewhat metamorphosed, into the Third Millenium, where they resurface in Andrew Belsey’s poem, and in the sonnets of many other contemporary poets, including this reviewer’s (for instance, Describe Adonis [4] ). Such conceits persisted through to at least the end of the Seventeenth Century, in the sonnets of John Milton and the Cavalier poets, such as Andrew Marvell. The style and tenor of the imagery of love in the sonnets of the Romantics had shifted from the somewhat dulcet to a subtler, more nuanced emotional expressiveness. However, in the past decade or so, we have witnessed a remarkable resurgence in sonnet-writing of imagery which has at least as much in common with the Renaissance Conceit as it does with Romantic imagery. Allow me to cite just a few examples from Andrew Belsey’s “modern” sonnet, all of them allusive phrases and images which would ring well to any Renaissance poet’s ear. We have, for instance, “kissed its rays” (verse 4), an allusion, however brief, which surely recalls Ferdinand’s words in Love’s Labour’s Lost: So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not – as well as echoing the golden imagery of Shakespeare’s Sonnet XXIII, “Full many a glorious morning have I seen…” Or yet again, we have this intriguing verse: So now there's just a thin pale moon above,Here Andrew appears to draw more on the Romantic tradition, departing from the Renaissance conceits his sonnet elsewhere evokes. One might readily conclude that such a hodgepodge of imagistic styles is perhaps undisciplined or unfocussed; but such a conclusion is not, to my mind, warranted. What Andrew’s sonnet summarily represents is the cumulative effect of several successive waves of frameworks for imagery in sonnets that have historically been refreshed, if not actually redefined, throughout the Centuries. Succinctly put, the sonnet in the Twenty First Century synthesizes all trends in elemental imagery that have continually evolved and metamorphosed since the advent of the sonnet in late 13th. Century Italy. This can hardly surprise the serious devotee of the sonnet. 2. Grammar, composition and style: Although this rubric is rather broad, I shall attempt to encapsulate my thoughts on the subject. What immediately strikes us when we read this modern sonnet is precisely this: the grammar, composition and style are altogether what one would expect of a, well, modern poem! Certain characteristics leap to our attention. The sonneteer never resorts to the archaic pronominals, “thee” or “thou” or to any such similar anachronistic devices. This is characteristic of most competent or inspired contemporary verse, where the use of such archaic grammatical conventions quite simply jars the modern ear. Although this evolution into modern colloquial pronominal constructions might seem incidental, it is not. For as late as the early to mid Twentieth Century, many poets continued to persist in using anachronistic words and phrases, especially verbal. The outcome was inevitable: they became hackneyed and timeworn. Now, I have noticed some poets persist, to this very day, even on the Internet, resorting to the use, sometimes even frequent, of archaic grammatical constructions in formal, structured poetry. Unless, of course, the poetry in question is in the Quaker tradition or something akin to it, the poet surely runs the risk of sounding quaint or even trite. Like all competent and conscientious modern sonneteers, Andrew Belsey has conscientiously steered himself clear of this trap. This is not to conclude that any use of archaic pronominals, such as “thee”, “thou” and “methinks” is entirely out of place in modern poetry. In ironic or satirical poetry, even sonnets, methinks not. To pursue our grammatical and stylistic perusal of this sonnet, we find ourselves comfortably at home with Andrew’s colloquial modern pronominal constructions, like: “I’ve revelled” and “I’ve lost” (present perfect colloquial) or “I'd found” (past perfect colloquial). Note how the last two verbs so well balance verse 12, which they frame: I've lost the only hope I thought I'd found How very dissimilar is this language and this style from that of, not only William Shakespeare, but of John Keats and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, the latter two writing as recently as the Nineteenth Century, all of whom routinely use what we would nowadays term as anachronistic grammar. But the whole point is that for them, it was not. Nor was it for sonneteers even as recently as the early Twentieth Century, such as, to cite three American poets, Edna Saint-Vincent Millay, Robert Hillyer and George Santayana. Now, it is significant that American sonneteers should have persisted in clinging to anachronistic grammatical forms, in light of the fact that it is American poets who are more often than not at the forefront of new and even revolutionary trends in poetic styles (for instance, E.E. Cummings). But Andrew Belsey’s colloquialism goes even further. While the imagery of the verse: So now there's just a thin pale moon above, – is without a shadow of a doubt traditional, its grammatical structure and its style are at variance with that imagery. Introducing a sonnet line with “So” would have been thought gauche even a half century ago! The entire phrase, “there’s just a thin pale moon above” is made up of the most basic, everyday words one could possibly imagine; and yet the cumulative effect of the imagery per se of this and the next verse is — there you have it! — traditional. I would have it too that the natural tension created by the interplay between traditional imagery and modern-day colloquialism prevalent not only in this particular sonnet, but even more marked in many of Andrew’s other sonnets [5] makes it quite palatable to the “modern” ear. 3. Metamorphosis of Traditional Sonnet Structure: On the surface of things, this is a traditional Shakespearian Sonnet: an octave and a sestet, with a final rhyming couplet. But surface appearances can be, and in this case, most definitely are deceptive. There are several ways to interpret the structure of this sonnet: 1. We may couch it comfortably in the traditional Shakespearian or Spenserian format, with no trouble at all, as I have already indicated. 2. But, and here lies the rub: while the sonnet does fit neatly into the Shakespearian mould, it also reveals, within that paradigm, and indeed transcending it, other much more fascinating structural anomalies. The first is this: we can read this entire sonnet as a sestet, followed by a transitional rhyming couplet in verses 7 and 8, followed by another sestet, i.e. 6-2-6. This is a clear departure from the Shakespearian model. 3. Or yet again, how about this paradigm? — sestet, transitional couplet, quartet, final rhyming couplet: 6-2-4-2. Why not? That's an even more compelling model, to which this sonnet neatly conforms. To summarize, the very structure of Andrew Belsey’s sonnet is simultaneously thoroughly traditional and thoroughly metamorphosed into revolving paradigms which defy traditional sonnet structures. That is no mean feat in itself. What we wind up with is nothing short of a contemporary Twenty-First Century sonnet, an evolving phenomenon. While its framework remains traditional, the sonnet is marked by a fluidity which allows for various approaches to structural interpretation.
Apparently, Andrew Belsey has come full circle in his sonnet, "Lost Love". He has once again revived and infused new breath into the traditional theme of love as it has played itself out in so many colourful avatars throughout the history of poetry since Ancient times, right through the Renaissance to the Nineteenth Century and beyond. He has seen fit to allow himself the liberty of resorting to historical conceits and imagery, to compose what is essentially a sonnet in the best of the tradition, and to remain faithful to his forbears, while all the while writing in a fluid style entirely suited to our day and age. And with that in mind, may I conclude with this observation? C’est toujours la même rengaine! It's just the same old song! But what a wonderful tune it is, this Song of Songs, this song of longing and of Love. © by Richard Vallance, September 11, 2002
1. Questor: 1.1 DEFINITION: Ques/tor\, n. [L. quaestor, contr. fr. quaesitor, fr. quaerere, quaesitum, to seek for, ask: cf. F. questeur.] (Rom. Antiq.) An officer who had the management of the public treasure; a receiver of taxes, tribute, etc.; treasurer of state. [Written also qu[ae]stor.]
1.2 THESAURUS (synonyms): Note: At an early period there were also public accusers styled questors, but the office was soon abolished. Source: Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary, © 1996, 1998 MICRA, Inc. Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary Version published 1913 by the C. & G. Merriam Co. Springfield, Mass. Under the direction of Noah Porter, D.D., LL.D. This version is copyrighted © 1996, 1998 by MICRA, Inc. of Plainfield, NJ. Last edit February 3, 1998. [2]. See The Vallance Review, Poetry Life and Times, August, 2002: The Sonnet as the Landscape of Mystery: Walter de la Mare’s "Silver". [3] Translation: “The more things change, the more they stay the same! [4] Richard Vallance. Describe Adonis, in: Autumn Leaves, Vol. 6, no. 3 (May, 2002) , [5] To read more sonnets by Andrew Belsey, who is the featured sonneteer in Vol. 1, no. 3 of SONNETTO POESIA, please see: Sonnetto Poesia. Vol. 1, no. 3. Autumn/ l'automne, 2002
Describe Adonis:
Kawasaki Zen Haiku:
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POETRY IN EMOTION – LA POÉSIE À S’ÉMOUVOIR
Vous pouvez enfin lire le volume 1, numéro 4, de l'e-zine canadien :
Poetry in Emotion – la poésié s’émouvoir.
Dans ce numéro, l'écrivain en vedette est Rolland Pauzin, poète français entièrement bilinque, qui réside actuellement en Irlande. Rolland écrit des poèmes de tous les genres : les poèmes en vers libre, les rondelais, les haïku et les sonnets. Le sujet de l’éditorial est :
Les poètes bilingues français et canadiens.
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POETRY IN EMOTION – LA POÉSIE À S’ÉMOUVOIR
READ the current issue
Poetry in Emotion – la poésié s’émouvoir.
The featured poet for this issue is Rolland Pauzin, a fully bilingual French poet who currently lives in Ireland. Rolland writes poems in many genres: free verse, roundelays, haikus and sonnets. The subject of the Editorial is:
Bilingual French and Canadian Poets.
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Vous pouvez enfin lire le volume 1, numéro 2, de l'e-zine canadien,
Vous pouvez enfin lire
le volume 1, numéro 3, de l'e-zine canadien,
- celui de l’automne, 2002, chez le lien suivant :
SONNETTO POESIA
Dans ce numéro uniquement en anglais, l'écrivain en vedette est Andrew Belseyde l’Angleterre .
Vous y lirez aussi deux sonnets classiques, dont l’un est par John Keats ( 1795-1821 ) : "Written in Disgust of Vulgar Superstition", et l’autre est par le poète irlandais, Edward Dowden ( 1843-1913 ) : "In the Cathedral". Ces sonnets servent à établir l’optique historique, dans laquelle se situent les deux sonnets similaires de Monsieur Belsey, voire, "The Good" et "Antitheism." Le sujet de l’éditorial est: "The Sonnet in the Twenty-First Century".
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The Autumn, 2002 issue (Vol. 1, no. 3) of: SONNETTO POESIA
- which features the English sonneteer, Andrew Belsey is now on the WEB here:
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