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The Oxford Anthology of English Poetry, Vol 2: Blake to Heaney
This two-volume anthology celebrates four centuries of English poetry, from the Elizabethan era to the present day. This, the second of the two volumes, covers poets from Blake to Heaney, and provides an excellent portrayal of a wide variety of eighteenth to twentieth century poets. The richness and variety of this tradition are represented in this collection by all the great and familiar names, but also some of the less well-known poets who have often provided startling exceptions to the poetry of their age. The result is a rich and multi-coloured tapestry of the depth, diversity, and energy of poetry written in Britain and Ireland. Beginning with William Blake, this second volume, covers many of the Romantic poets (Wordsworth, Byron, Shelley, Keats). It gives a generous survey of nineteenth century verse, including that of Tennyson, Browning, Hopkins, and Lewis Carroll, with poets from the twentieth-century being represented by poets such as Graves, Betjeman, Larking, Hughes, and Heaney.
770 pages, Paperback
First published January 17, 1991
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About the author
John Wain
149 books17 followersJohn Barrington Wain was an English poet, novelist, and critic, associated with the literary group "The Movement". For most of his life, Wain worked as a freelance journalist and author, writing and reviewing for newspapers and the radio.
Wain was born and grew up in Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire, the son of a dentist, Arnold Wain, and his wife Annie, née Turner. He had an older sister and a younger brother, Noel. After attending Newcastle under Lyme High School, he entered St. John's College, Oxford, gaining a first in his BA in 1946 and MA in 1950. He was a Fereday Fellow of St. John's between 1946 and 1949. On 4 July 1947, Wain married Marianne Uffenheimer (b. 1923 or 1924), but they divorced in 1956. Wain then married Eirian Mary James (1920 - 1988), deputy director of the recorded sound department of the British Council, on 1 January 1960. They had three sons and lived mainly in Wolvercote, Oxford. Wain married his third wife, Patricia Adams (born 1942 or 1943), an art teacher, in 1989. He died in Oxford on 24 May 1994.
Wain was born and grew up in Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire, the son of a dentist, Arnold Wain, and his wife Annie, née Turner. He had an older sister and a younger brother, Noel. After attending Newcastle under Lyme High School, he entered St. John's College, Oxford, gaining a first in his BA in 1946 and MA in 1950. He was a Fereday Fellow of St. John's between 1946 and 1949. On 4 July 1947, Wain married Marianne Uffenheimer (b. 1923 or 1924), but they divorced in 1956. Wain then married Eirian Mary James (1920 - 1988), deputy director of the recorded sound department of the British Council, on 1 January 1960. They had three sons and lived mainly in Wolvercote, Oxford. Wain married his third wife, Patricia Adams (born 1942 or 1943), an art teacher, in 1989. He died in Oxford on 24 May 1994.
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
May 30, 2013
This book is amazing. A lot of great, and fascinating poets in one book. I took the time to read each poets poems and I couldn't really peg one that I didn't like. I recommend this for those that want to take the time to study poets, and don't mind the variety. Please read!
July 15, 2021
It’s odd* that the second volume of this 2-volume set omits the Introduction, because it’s much more relevant here than in the first: specifically, in explaining why John Wain did not include any American poets (‘The hell I will!’). Now, if I were to collect all the American poems I love it would not make a long volume – in fact, there wouldn’t even be one page. But whether Wain is sincere in his professed affection for them or not, I definitely think it was the right decision and gives a greater unity of tone.
At least – it would, if Wain had not included a sprinkling of (not only Scottish, but) Scots and Irish poems. These belong to a tradition at least as different from the English as America’s, the Scots in particular being much closer to traditional ballad idiom. But then, having included them, it seems almost wilful not to find room for Tam o’ Shanter, probably the most enjoyable long poem (even if not the finest or most visionary) in the language. Another glaring omission is Yeats' Dream of Wandering Aengus, which should be in any general anthology of great poetry
Of course, any selection is going to provoke some argument. This one is otherwise solid, including all the poets and all the poems you would expect, with no nasty surprises; yet comprehensive enough to find room for the unknown, and not too po-faced to include Lear and Lewis Carroll. If you wanted one volume to show you what English poetry is about, this is it. In a word: proper poetry.
*It doesn't especially bother me, but it's also a little odd that the livery does not match vol.1.
At least – it would, if Wain had not included a sprinkling of (not only Scottish, but) Scots and Irish poems. These belong to a tradition at least as different from the English as America’s, the Scots in particular being much closer to traditional ballad idiom. But then, having included them, it seems almost wilful not to find room for Tam o’ Shanter, probably the most enjoyable long poem (even if not the finest or most visionary) in the language. Another glaring omission is Yeats' Dream of Wandering Aengus, which should be in any general anthology of great poetry
Of course, any selection is going to provoke some argument. This one is otherwise solid, including all the poets and all the poems you would expect, with no nasty surprises; yet comprehensive enough to find room for the unknown, and not too po-faced to include Lear and Lewis Carroll. If you wanted one volume to show you what English poetry is about, this is it. In a word: proper poetry.
*It doesn't especially bother me, but it's also a little odd that the livery does not match vol.1.
July 5, 2021
I’m not sure that individuals should be allowed to compile anthologies, either of music or literature: they always want to obtrude their own personality on the selection, show the diversity of their taste and the depth of their knowledge, or offer greater inclusivity. A volume like this would be better produced by a committee agreeing a list between them.
It does have, probably, all the pieces you would expect: Gray’s Elegy, The Deserted Village, To His Coy Mistress, etc. But no fewer than 120 pages are given over to Shakespeare, and 80 to Milton – in all, a third of the volume. Given that these are the two best known and most-published poets in the history of English, it seems unnecessary and a waste of space. The approach with Shakespeare is to cite individual scenes in which the writing is especially ‘poetic’. It’s interesting to encounter detached bits in this way – ordinarily, whether reading Shakespeare or watching him, you have to devote too much energy to following the story to appreciate the quality of the writing fully. But you obviously need some knowledge of the entire play in order to understand the scenes fully; and as Wain himself implies, you could probably pick another 120 pages, entirely different and just as good.
Some of the other writers, though, are not so great: in fact, I would categorise some of the pieces here as doggerel. Wain says he did make some selections for reasons other than because they are great poetry. Why? I refer you to my first paragraph, above. And there’s another reason: sometimes mediocre poems seem to have been included because they have one famous line, like ‘Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast’.
Another serious mistake is to retain all the original spelling. In the Elizabethan poetry, this represents a significant obstacle to fluent reading: the language in that era was not radically different from now, but the spelling was.
As for the poetry itself, rather than the selection, I think what you see over this period is a gradually but steadily widening gulf between the poetry and the raw material of which poetry is made. The Elizabethans were able to combine classical learning with the immediacy of the medieval imagination, and do the ‘nymphs and shepherds’ stuff convincingly; but after that it became more and more the self-conscious assumption of an artificial attitude. The English poetic imagination was dying as it became remote from rural life, a fact reflected in the number of satirical pieces towards the end of the volume; it was to be reborn in the Romantic mould, exploring the inner life rather than the old pastoral archetypes.
What is the point of a volume like this: to extend your knowledge of poetry beyond the obvious greats? Or just to have the best of what you already know readily to hand in a compact volume? If it’s the second, this book is fine; if the first, somewhat lacking. As far as it goes, what it suggests is that all the greats are actually obvious greats – there isn’t a whole load of neglected geniuses out there which we’ve forgotten.
It does have, probably, all the pieces you would expect: Gray’s Elegy, The Deserted Village, To His Coy Mistress, etc. But no fewer than 120 pages are given over to Shakespeare, and 80 to Milton – in all, a third of the volume. Given that these are the two best known and most-published poets in the history of English, it seems unnecessary and a waste of space. The approach with Shakespeare is to cite individual scenes in which the writing is especially ‘poetic’. It’s interesting to encounter detached bits in this way – ordinarily, whether reading Shakespeare or watching him, you have to devote too much energy to following the story to appreciate the quality of the writing fully. But you obviously need some knowledge of the entire play in order to understand the scenes fully; and as Wain himself implies, you could probably pick another 120 pages, entirely different and just as good.
Some of the other writers, though, are not so great: in fact, I would categorise some of the pieces here as doggerel. Wain says he did make some selections for reasons other than because they are great poetry. Why? I refer you to my first paragraph, above. And there’s another reason: sometimes mediocre poems seem to have been included because they have one famous line, like ‘Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast’.
Another serious mistake is to retain all the original spelling. In the Elizabethan poetry, this represents a significant obstacle to fluent reading: the language in that era was not radically different from now, but the spelling was.
As for the poetry itself, rather than the selection, I think what you see over this period is a gradually but steadily widening gulf between the poetry and the raw material of which poetry is made. The Elizabethans were able to combine classical learning with the immediacy of the medieval imagination, and do the ‘nymphs and shepherds’ stuff convincingly; but after that it became more and more the self-conscious assumption of an artificial attitude. The English poetic imagination was dying as it became remote from rural life, a fact reflected in the number of satirical pieces towards the end of the volume; it was to be reborn in the Romantic mould, exploring the inner life rather than the old pastoral archetypes.
What is the point of a volume like this: to extend your knowledge of poetry beyond the obvious greats? Or just to have the best of what you already know readily to hand in a compact volume? If it’s the second, this book is fine; if the first, somewhat lacking. As far as it goes, what it suggests is that all the greats are actually obvious greats – there isn’t a whole load of neglected geniuses out there which we’ve forgotten.
November 15, 2007
Just think what you could do if you had this book...amaze friends and family at family gatherings by reciting stanzas of Oscar Wilde's "...Reading Gaol" interspersed with Lewis Carroll's:
"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
and Wilde replies:
I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every wandering cloud that trailed
Its ravelled fleeces by.
This will jazz up your Thanksgiving!--Shawn
"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
and Wilde replies:
I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every wandering cloud that trailed
Its ravelled fleeces by.
This will jazz up your Thanksgiving!--Shawn
on-hold-fict
July 14, 2022Status: have only read these poems:
-- George Peele: A Farewell to Arms
-- Christopher Marlowe: Elegia V
-- Ben Jonson: To the Memory of [...] Mr. William Shakespeare
-- John Dryden: A Song for St. Cecilia’s Day
-- John Dryden: To the Memory of Mr. Oldham
-- John Dryden: Lines Printed under the Engraved Portrait of Milton
-- John Dryden: ‘Sylvia the fair, in the bloom of fifteen’
-- John Dryden: The Secular Masque
-- John Dryden: To my Dear Friend. Mr. Congreve
-- George Peele: A Farewell to Arms
-- Christopher Marlowe: Elegia V
-- Ben Jonson: To the Memory of [...] Mr. William Shakespeare
-- John Dryden: A Song for St. Cecilia’s Day
-- John Dryden: To the Memory of Mr. Oldham
-- John Dryden: Lines Printed under the Engraved Portrait of Milton
-- John Dryden: ‘Sylvia the fair, in the bloom of fifteen’
-- John Dryden: The Secular Masque
-- John Dryden: To my Dear Friend. Mr. Congreve
March 25, 2008
Some wonderful works
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews