Gerard Manley Hopkins is one of English poetry's most brilliant stylistic innovators, and one of the most distinguished poets of any age. However, during his lifetime he was known not as a poet but as a Jesuit priest, and his faith was essential to his work. His writings combine an intense feeling for nature with an ecstatic awareness of its divine origins, most remarkably expressed in his magnificent and highly original 'sprung rhythm.'
This collection contains not only all of Hopkins’ significant poetry, but also selections from his journals, sermons, and letters, all chosen for their spiritual guidance and insight. Hopkins didn't allow the publication of most of his poems during his lifetime, so his genius was not appreciated until after his death. Now, more than a hundred years later, his words are still a source of inspiration and sheer infectious joy in the radiance of God's creation.
Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889) was an English poet, Roman Catholic convert, and Jesuit priest, whose 20th-century fame established him posthumously among the leading Victorian poets. His experimental explorations in prosody (especially sprung rhythm) and his use of imagery established him as a daring innovator in a period of largely traditional verse.
bury me with this book. i love you hopkins. thanks for helping me see beauty in trees, spring, and rivers. thanks for helping me see Gods grandeur and the depths of his mystery. thanks for describing terribleness of darkness, these were truly written in hopkins blood.
several poems here that made my heart stop. i love you hopkins!
This is for the hardcore Hopkins fan I think. It has a preface, detailed chronology, poems, letters, journal entries, sermons, and essays on poetics. I read the poems, letters and essays and skimmed/read bits of the rest. I have to admit, it was a bit of a slog, mainly because of the religious content. His journal entries are massively detailed nature studies. Also, I hate to say this, but the man seemed a bit unpleasant and it's now tainted my enjoyment of the poems. Kinda wish I never read his journal entries or letters. I'm sure that'll wear off eventually though. And if you're into poetics, there's plenty to geek out over here.
Can't seem to finish as I keep rereading, the poetics & the sermons are incredible, a marvelous letter to his mother...so talented, so bright, so troubled, but you always come back to the poetry. And he knew how good he was. A hero, a scholar and poet!
Worth the time, read the poems, then the journals & letters; poetics & sermons take more study.
Hopkins is a singular poet. His meter soars across lines, sustaining breathless passages with a nervy loft, like a trapeze artist who hasn't yet learned how painful the ground can be.
These were stanzas in this collection that made me gasp, but they were balanced by long slogs of impenetrable meaning. (There was also a large amount of commonplace religious sentiment wrapped in intricate ribbon.)
Hopkins' bio is fascinating: he was an English child of relative privilege who scandalized his family by becoming a Jesuit priest. The biographical materials here argue that he was a seeker who died disillusioned with the modest accomplishments of what should have been a grand calling. Poetry was a secondary focus, but his best lines certainly stand at the forefront.
God's Grandeur
The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil; It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod? Generations have trod, have trod, have trod; And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil; And wears man's smudge and share's man's smell: the soil Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And, for all this, nature is never spent; There lives the dearest freshness deep down things; And though the last lights off the black West went Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastwards, springs--"
Pied Beauty
Glory be to God for dappled things-- For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow; For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim; Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings; Landscape plotted and pieced--fold, fallow, and plough; And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.
The Blessed Virgin Compared to the Air We Breathe
Be thou then, O thou dear Mother, my atmosphere; My happier world, wherein To wend and meet no sin; Above me, round me lie Fronting my forward eye With sweet and scarless sky; Stir in my ears, speak there Of God's love, O live air, Of patience, penance, prayer: World-mothering air, air wild, Wound with thee, in thee isled, Fold home, fast fold thy child.
The poetry was absolutely amazing. He was way ahead of his time. I found him absolutely enthralling. Certainly in the ranks of Whitman and Eliot in my mind.
The other writings were just not really worth the time I don't think. Others may find them more uplifting then I did.
It's easy to see why Hopkins is so frequently anthologized with the Moderns. As a poet of the late Victorian period, his work so far surpassed the work of his peers (in the scope of both its content and the mastery it demonstrates), that it is almost impossible to believe that he was a contemporary of Tennyson or Arnold.
I cannot express in words the excitement I feel while reading Hopkins's poetry. His is the joy or anguish so intense and so sincere that it falls rarely within the realm of human experience, and completely beyond the realm of human comprehension. His command over the English language is exquisite and absolutely awe-inspiring. He is one of the few poets who is truly capable of genuinely reproducing the depths of his spiritual anguish and the heights of his dizzying ecstacies in a way such that it is not only remembered, but truly shared by his readers.
A vintage classic that includes Gerard Manley Hopkins' poetry as well as a detailed biography of his life and writing career. It's fascinating to consider his choices in light of what was going on in the various sects of Christianity during the nineteenth century, and how this reflects on his own spirituality, even if his poetry is undoubtedly still the product of the dogmatism he sought to reconcile himself with. Hopkins serves as a lens through which to observe a man of faith's struggle in this historical context. A rare gem of poetry among his less luminous works is an added bonus.
This is a wonderful collection. In a very attractive, thin, and affordable trade paperback are collected the major poems of the great poet Hopkins along with selected journal excerpts, letters, essays, and sermons. There is even a brief chronology of his life and some interesting introductory material. There is no excuse for anyone with any sort of home library not to possess this collection. It is limited indeed, but is it so bad if it leaves you hungry for more?
Only four, not five because I could have done without Hopkins' sermons and letters. Though they reflect a complicated man who was brilliant in terms of theology, it doesn't sit well in a reading with his journals and his poems, which are full of rich, holy imagery that is unparallelled.