John Keats: Selected by Andrew Motion

by John Keats

In this series, a contemporary poet selects and introduces a poet of the past. By their choice of poems and by the personal and critical reactions they express in their prefaces, the editors offer insights into their own work as well as providing an accessible and passionate introduction to the most important poets in our literature.

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

-- Endymion

Genres: Poetry, Classics, Romanticism

109 pages, Hardcover

Published January 1, 2011

About the author

Rich melodic works in classical imagery of English poet John Keats include " The Eve of Saint Agnes ," " Ode on a Grecian Urn ," and " To Autumn ," all in 1819.

Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley include "Adonais," an elegy of 1821 to John Keats.

Work of the principal of the Romantic movement of England received constant critical attacks from the periodicals of the day during his short life. He nevertheless posthumously immensely influenced poets, such as Alfred Tennyson. Elaborate word choice and sensual imagery characterize poetry, including a series of odes, masterpieces of Keats among the most popular poems in English literature. Most celebrated letters of Keats expound on his aesthetic theory of "negative capability."

Wikipedia page of the author

Reviews

[Jan-Maat]

In my schooling sex, death and poetry were provided courtesy of John Donne and his obvious lustiness and explicit intellectualising is not to be found here where hints and subtly reign. On the whole though I am too old, I think, for Keats what with his Belle Dame sans Merci and I find it difficult to square his elven grotts with his suburban London life.

In terms of the verse I was impressed with the narrative drive of Lamia and found myself in sympathy with the poor snake-woman. Maybe the antipathy of the worlds of love and rigid philosophy was the authors intention.

Sadly in this volume, despite the verse being selected by former poet-laureate and Keats biographer Andrew Motion there is only a two page introduction. You are on your own, reader, if you would travel in these realms of Gold.

It's a handsome book, in response maybe to the emergence of the dreaded e-book. Hard backed, pretty end papers, simple cover, creamy paper. The downside is the two page introduction, no notes and no dates of when poems were completed, or revised - though there is plenty of space to scribble in and add your own gloss. Contains excerpts of Sleep & Poetry, Endymion, Hyperion & The Fall of Hyperion and a dozen and a half shorter poems.

The shorter ones, I felt, in particular were fine. Perhaps the odes are more suited to modern taste than the long narrative poems.

[sophie esther · Rating 4 out of 5]

Keats writes poetry like daydreams.

His words are aching with longing, with dread, with fears of never completing your purpose and admiring the world so much, that, despite the pain and horrors of reality, there is beauty in the way the wind blows, within the hymns of nature's growth, and innocence of everything to its core.

I liked the many allusions to Greek Mythology, and the theme of Apollo. It only made sense to me much later when reading this collection of Keats poetry, that Apollo is the god of poetry and art and light, and that is exactly what Keats lived for. He knew he was going to die, and it tortured him to know that all these poems would be left unwritten, novels left unread, love inexperienced, but the idea of Apollo comforted him, I think, because it made him believe that what he was doing was important.

He dropped perusing medicine to write poetry. Perhaps he didn't want to work towards something he knew would bring him no meaning, considering he probably wouldn't have even become a doctor before he died. Writing poetry, to Keats, was what brought him meaning. It was his way to experience life when he knew he would perish before life truly began for him. Still, he lived vicariously through his words. He feared that what he was doing was pointless, would end up perished like him. In his poetry, it sometimes appears as though he regrets (or feels like he should regret) abandoning "noble" pursuits, like medicine. However, it is clear that in the end, Keats believed that art was far more resilient than he was, and perhaps he also believed that he might save many more lives with a pen and paper, than in a hospital.

Although Keats died at 25, truly, he is immortal, and is one of the best poets to have ever lived.

“Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.”

“I was never afraid of failure; for I would sooner fail than not be among the greatest.”

[Beth Bauman · Rating 5 out of 5]

An intense but beautiful collection of poems by the second generation romantic poet, John Keats. They are, of course, wonderfully crafted and have power over emotion, but they are like some rich dessert--are best eaten in small amounts and leave one feeling overfull and languid if overindulged--so yes, I enjoyed reading this book, but I could only read a few poems in one sitting.

I particularly loved his poem "A Song About Myself," very different from his other poems and styles, and reminded me of A.A. Milne's poetry. :D

[Millie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I just adore his style and imagery, and find his approach to poetry itself absolutely fascinating. There’s not much for me to say other than I found it a beautiful collection.

[Heather · Rating 4 out of 5]

3rd time read for me.

[Lssyac · Rating 1 out of 5]

Had to read some poetry for book club... never read any poetry until this. Sorry, just not my cup of tea.

[Oliver · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read every single poem in this book and absolutely loved them all. You can see the influence Keats has taken from poetry before him like Milton and Shakespeare. However, John Keats is surely one of the greatest poets in his own right.

Some of my favourites are Ode to a Nightingale, Ode on a Grecian Urn, Ode on Indolence, When I have Fears that I May Cease to Be and The Eve of St Agnes.