Does anyone read the Fugitives anymore? I apologize for asking. A more pertinent question might be: Does anyone read poetry anymore?
The Fugitives were a group of poets who came together in the early 1920s, including Allen Tate, John Crown Ransom, Robert Penn Warren. They were modernists, and highly influential in their day. Their guiding aesthetic principles led to the formulation of the so-called New Criticism. (It is important to distinguish the Fugitives from the Agrarians, a group of southern writers (including a few Fugitives) who published an important, though currently discredited, collection of essays in 1930 called "I'll Take My Stand.")
There are many fine poems in this sampling of the Fugitives' best work, including "Bells for John Whiteside's Daughter" and "Philomela" by Ransom, and "Ode to the Confederate Dead" by Allen Tate. Ransom was easily as good a poet as Robert Frost. He is a formalist whose works are meticulously crafted.
Ransom, as others in this group, was deeply educated in the classics, and this influence is found in many places throughout his work and those of other Fugitives. He was acutely conscious of poetry's unlikely place among the American people, "A bantering breed sophistical and swarthy." (Philomela). Elsewhere in the same poem he laments the inability of lyric song to find a hospitable home on our side of the Atlantic:
Not to these shores she came! this other Thrace,
Environs barbarous to the royal Attic;
How could her delicate dirge run democratic,
Delivered in a cloudless boundless public place
To an inordinate race?
Ransom apostrophizes (in the very first line of this poem) Procne, Philomela, and Itylus. The mention of all three immediately calls to mind Ovid's famous tale in Book 6 of the Metamorphoses. And in case you miss the connection to the Ovidian version of the story, he names Ovid six lines later.
In that gruesome story, Procne, the daughter of King Pandion of Athens, marries Tereus, a Thracian. Ancient Thrace (today southern Bulgaria, Northeastern Greece, and Turkey on the European side of the Propontis or Sea of Marmara) was considered by the Greeks to be a warlike and uncivilized nation, its people subject to violent passions -- or at least that's how Ovid characterizes it in this story.
After they return from Athens to Thrace, Procne begs her husband to allow her sister Philomela to visit and stay with her. He outfits a ship and sails to Athens (in about two hexameter lines). After greeting his father-in-law, Philomela enters the palace. Tereus is instantaneously overcome with an overpowering desire to possess Philomela sexually. He feasts his eyes upon her and fantasizes wildly about dominating her.
After a tearful farewell, where Pandion entrusts Philomela to the care and protection of his son-in-law, they sail off. After arriving in Thrace, Tereus drags Philomela to a hut in the woods and rapes her. When she protests bitterly, he cuts off her tongue, then goes home to tell Procne that Philomela died en route. Philomela then weaves a tapestry in which she illustrates the savage crime of Tereus, and sends it via a messenger to Procne. When Procne reads it, she goes insane with a desire for revenge. She kills her son Itys and cooks him up to serve as a dinner to her husband. When he asks where Itys is after his meal, Proce says, "he's inside!" (Ovid is never above a little grim humor.) Then Philomela enters, brandishing Itys’s head. At that moment, all three are turned into birds. Philomela, although Ovid does not mention it in his version, has traditionally been understood to have become a nightingale, a bird with long associations of lyric song.
Ransom calls America "this other Thrace." Not a compliment. We are invited by this reference to see another layer of symbolism beyond that of Philomela as the embodiment of lyric poetry. If America is Thrace, it is also the home of the savage Tereus.