The First World War set the table for the 20th century: cruel, stupid, and pointless, with the cavalry charge and dreams of glory replaced by mechanized warfare and widespread slaughter and destruction. Those lucky enough to survive it witnessed the outbreak of another, even more devastating conflict a mere twenty years after the Treaty of Versailles was signed, and we have lived in the shadow of both conflicts ever since. Artists of many different mediums have tried to come to terms with what happened in the years between the assassination of Franz Ferdinand and the eleventh hour of November 11, 1918, but perhaps no group captured the waste and horror better than the war poets, primarily British, who wrote about the Western Front and its endless trench system.
"Muse of Fire," by Michael Korda, captures the lives of six of the most well-known soldier poets, from Rupert Brooke to Wilfred Owen. He documents how each man saw the conflict, how each one wrote about it, and what effect it had on them whether they survived it or not. I enjoyed the profiles of those I was already familiar with either through their work or through previous biographical works ("The Great War and Modern Myth" covers a lot of similar details), but I found the chapters devoted to more obscure poets to be revelatory.
Korda begins with the outbreak of the war and the optimism that fueled Britain's plans to liberate Belgium and to come to the aid of their French and Russian allies. Rupert Brooke, the first of the poets profiled, also dies first, after seeing barely any action and untainted by the sort of grief and despair of the trenches (he died from an infection while en route to what would become the slaughter-house that was the seige of Gallipoli). Brooke's pre-war career captures the wayward idleness of upper- to middle-class British male life, from wilderness retreats to odd jobs and ambiguous sexuality coupled with a rather immature nature and an inability to escape the confines of reliance on parents. Brooke changes when the war breaks out not long after his birthday, and he enlists in an elite unit. But his poetry will be outdated long before the grass grows on his grave, because of the changing nature of warfare itself.
Korda next shows us the brief career of Alan Seeger (uncle to the future folk singer Pete, though he died well before his nephew's birth), whose poetry also reflects a naive notion of the glory of war. Our first realist poet of the battlefield comes with Isaac Rosenberg, a British Jew who had to tolerate condescension from his peers, as well as Siegfried Sassoon, whose principled stand against the war earned him a trip to a sort of Freudian rest home for soldiers suffering from "shell shock." We also see the rise of Robert Graves, later best known for "I, Claudius," and finally end on the short but brilliant career and life of Owen, perhaps the best-known (and best) of the war poets, who died mere days before the Armistice.
Throughout the book, Korda includes examples from each man's work to show the gradual shift from the patriotic verse of the early days to the bitter, angry poems that came out of the horrors of artillery assaults and inglorious battles with no clear winner. The war became a slog, with neither side willing to negotiate an end, and countless young men making up the butcher's bill for years and years. Korda shows how the war affected each man, and how their poetry survived them and formed our major way of understanding the true horrors of World War One. This is a testament to the youth who went off to war and came back scarred, if they came back at all. As a work of biography and literary analysis, "Muse of Fire" works as a way of commemorating those who wrote about the war in a way that few have before and since, and doing so in a way that makes it impossible to see any war as anything short of a waste of life. And if we would only learn that lesson from the poets immortalized here, think how much better our world would be.