资源描述
The Poetical PrincipleIN SPEAKING of the Poetical Principle，I have no design to be either thorough or profound.While discussing, very much at random, the essentiality of what we call Poetical, my principle purpose will be to cite for consideration, some few of those minor English or American poems which best suit my own taste, or which, upon my own fancy, have left the most definite impression. By “minor poems” I mean, of course, poems of little length. And here, in the beginning, permit me to say a few words in regard to a somewhat peculiar principle, which, whether rightful or wrongfully, has always had it influence in my own critical estimate of the poem. I hold that a long poem does not exist. I maintain that the phrase, “a long poem,” is simple a flat contradiction in terms.I need scarcely observe that a poem deserves its title only inasmuch as it excites, by elevating the soul. The value of the poem is the ratio of this elevating excitement. But all excitement are, through a psychal necessity, transient. The degree of excitement which would entitle a poem to be so called at all, cannot be sustained throughout a composition of any great length. After the lapse of half an hour, at the very utmost, it flags - fails - a revulsion ensues - and then the poem is, in effect, and in fact, no longer such.There are, no doubt, many who have found difficult in reconciling the critical dictum that the “Paradise Lost” is to be devoutly admired throughout, with the absolute impossibility for maintaining for it, during perusal, the amount of enthusiasm which that critical dictum would demand. This great work, in fact, is to be regarded poetical, only when, losing sight of that vital requisite in all works of Art, Unity, we view it merely as a series of minor poems. If, to preserve its Unity - its totality of effect or impression - we read it(as would be necessary) at a single sitting, the result is but a constant alternation of excitement and depression. After a passage of what we feel to be true poetry, there follows, inevitably, a passage of platitude which no critical pre-judgment can force us to admire; but if , upon completing the work, we read it again; omitting the first work-that is to say, commencing with second - we shall be surprised at now finding that admirable which we before condemned - the damnable which we had previously so much admired. It follows from all this that the ultimate, aggregate, or absolute effect of even the best epic under the sun, is a nullity: - band this precisely the fact.In regard to the Iliad, we have, if not possible proof, at least very good reason, for it intended as a series of lyrics; but, granting the epic intention, I can say only that the work is based in an imperfect sense of art. The modern epic is, of the suppositious ancient model, but an inconsiderate and blindfold imitation. But the day of these anomalies is over. If , at any time, any very long poem were popular reality, which I doubt, it is at least clear that no very long poem will ever be popular again.That extent of a poetical work is, ceteris paribus, the measure of its merit, seems undoubted, when we thus state it, a proposition sufficiently absurd - yet we are indebted for it to the Quarterly Reviews. Surely there can be nothing in mere size, abstractly considered - there can be nothing in bulk, so far as a volume is concerned, which had so continuously elicited admiration from these saturnine pamphlets! A mountain, to be sure, by the mere sentiment of physical magnitude which it conveys, does impress us with a sense of the sublime - but no man is impressed after this fashion by material grandeur of even “The Columbiad.” Even the Quarterlies have not instructed us to be so impressed by it. As yet, they have not insisted on our estimating Lamartine by the cubic foot, or Pollok by the pound - but what else are we to infer from their continual prating about “sustained effort?” If, by “sustained effort,” any little gentlemen has accomplished an epic, let us frankly commend him for the effort - if this indeed be a thing commendable - but let us forbear praising the epic on the efforts account. It is to be hoped that common sense, in the time to come, will prefer deciding upon a work of art, rather by the impression it makes, by the amount of “sustained effort” which had been found necessary in effecting the impression. The fact is, that perseverance is one thing, and genius quite anther - nor can all the Quarterlies in Christendom confound them. By and-by, this proposition, with many which I have been just urging, will be received as self-evident. In the meantime, by being generally condemned as falsities, they will not be essentially damaged as truths.On the other hand, it is clear that a poem may be improperly brief. Undue brevity degenerates into mere epigrammatism. A very short poem, while now and then producing a brilliant or vivid, never produces a profound or enduring effect. There must be the steady pressing down of the stamp upon the wax. De Beranger has wrought innumerable things, pungent and spirit-stirring; but, in general, they have been too imponderous to stamp themselves deeply into aloft only to be whistled down the wind.A remarkable instance of the effect of undue brevity in depressing a poem - in keeping it out of the popular view - is afforded by the following exquisite little Serenade:I arise from dreams of theeIn the first sweet of nightWhen the winds are breathing lowAnd the stars are shining brightI arise from dreams of theeAnd a spirit in my feetHath led me-who knows howTo thy chamber-window sweet!The wandering airs, they faintOn the dark, the silent stream-The champak odors failLike sweet thoughts in a dream;The nightingales complaint,It dies upon her heart,As I must die on thine,O, beloved as thou art!O, lift me from the grass!I die, I faint, I fail!Let thy love in kisses rainOn my lips and eyelids pale.My cheek is cold and white, alas!My heart beats loud and fast:Oh! Press it close to thine again,Where it will break at last!Very few, perhaps, are familiar with these lines - yet no less a poet than Shelly is their author. Their warm, yet delicate and ethereal imagination will be appreciated by all - but by none so thoroughly as by him who has himself arisen from sweet dreams of one beloved to bathe in the aromatic air of a southern midsummer night.One of the finest poems by Willis - the very best, in my opinion, which he has ever written - has, no doubt, through this same defect of undue brevity, been kept back from its proper position, not less in the critical than in the popular view.The shadows lay along BroadwayTwas near the twilight-tide-And slowly there a lady fairWas walking in her pride.Alone walkd she; but, viewlesslyWalkd spirits at her side.Peace charmd the street beneath her feet,And honor charmd the air;And all astir looked kind on her,And calld her good and fair-For all God ever gave to herShe kept with chary care.She kept with care her beauties rareFrom lovers warm and true-For her heart was cold to all but gold,And the rich came not to woo-But honor d well are charms to sell,If priests the selling do.Now walking there was one more fair-A slight girl, lily-pale;And she had unseen companyTo make the spirit quail-Twixt Want and Scorn she walkd forlornAnd nothing could avail.No merey now can clear her browFor this worlds peace to pray;For, as loves wild prayer dissolved in air,Her womans heart gave way! -But the sin forgive by Christ in HeavenBy man is cursed always!In this composition we find it difficult to recognize the Willis who has written so many mere “verse of society.” The lines are not only richly ideal, but full of energy; while they breathe an earnestness - an evident sincerity of sentiment - for which we look in vain throughout all the other works of this author.While the epic mania - while the idea that, to merit in poetry, prolixity is indispensable - has, for some years past, been gradually dying out of the public mind, by mere dint if its own absurdity - we find it succeeded by a heresy too palpably false to be long tolerated, but one which, in the brief period if has already endued, may be said to have accomplished more in the corruption of our Poetical Literature than all its other enemies combined. I allude to the heresy of The Didactic. It has been assumed, tacitly and avowedly, directly and indirectly, that the ultimate object of all Poetry is Truth. Even poem, it is said, should inculcate a moral; and by this moral is the poetical merit if the work to be adjudged. We American especially have patronized this happy idea; and we Bostonians, very especially have developed it in full. We have taken it into our heads that to write a poem simply for the poem sake, and to acknowledge such to have been our design, would be to confess ourselves radically wanting in the true Poetic dignity and force: - but the simple fact is, that, would we but permit ourselves to look into our own souls, we should immediately there discover that under the sun there neither exists nor can exist any work more thoroughly dignity - more supremely noble than this very poem - this poem per se - this poem which is a poem and nothing more - this poem written solely for the poem sake.With as deep a reverence for the True as ever inspired the bosom of man, I would, nevertheless, limit, in some measure, its modes of inculcation. I would limit to enforce them. I would not enfeeble them by dissipation. The demands of Truth are severe. She has no sympathy with the myrtles. All that which is so indispensable in Song, is precisely all that with hich she has nothing whatever to do. It is but making a flaunting paradox, to wreathe her gems and flowers. In enforcing a truth, we need severity rather than efflorescence of language. We must be simple, precise, terse. We must be cool, calm, unimpassioned. In a word, we must be in that mood which, as nearly as possible, is the exact converse of the poetical. He must be blind, indeed, who does not perceive the radical and chasmal differences between the truthful and the poetical modes of inculcation. He must be theory-mad beyond redemption who, in spite of these differences, shall still persist in attempting to reconcile the obstinate oils and waters of Poetry and Truth.Dividing the world of mind into its three most immediately obvious distinctions, , have the Pure Intellect, Taste, and the Moral Sense. I place Taste in the middle, because it is just this position which, in the mind, it occupied. It holds intimate relations with either extreme; but from the Moral Sense is separated by so faint a difference that Aristotle has not hesitated to place some of operations among the virtues themselves. Nevertheless, we find the offices of the trio marked with a sufficient distinction. Just as the Intellect concerns itself with Truth, so Taste informs us of the Beautiful while the Moral Sense is regardful of duty. Of this latter, while Conscience teaches the obligation, and Reason the expediency, Taste contents herself with displaying - her disproportion - her animosity to the fitting, to the appropriate, to the harmonious- in a word, to Beauty.诗歌的原则说起诗歌的原则，我并不打算说的很全面透彻。对于诗歌的本质问题，我只是很随意的谈谈，而我的主要目的是列举一些我喜欢的或是我记得很清楚的短诗作为参考的内容。我所说的短诗，当然还是有点长的。在文章的开始，对于诗歌，我想说一些特别的原则，不管对错与否，它们对于我的诗歌评价总会产生影响。我个人觉得长诗是不存在的，它只不过是词条中具有矛盾性的词而已。想都不用想，每首诗都有它的题目，只是因为它能起到激励作用，可以提高人的自身修养。诗的价值是通过不断提升的激励作用来体现的，但从心理需求来看，这种刺激是短暂的，并不是说通过冗长的诗就能使这种刺激可以一直持续下去。我们可以看到，半个小时过去后，这种刺激就会消失无影，随之而来的却是对冗长的诗歌产生的反感。所以，事实可以说明诗歌不需要太长。毫无疑问，失乐园这本小说得到一些人的肯定和欣赏，然而另一些人对此做出强烈的反对，为此许多人想缓和一点言辞激烈的持有反对观点的评论宣言，可是觉得这做起来相当困难。然而认真读了评论宣言后，会觉得评论家所具有的这种热情正是评论宣言所需要的。失乐园这部伟大的作品极富有诗意，只有对所有著作都没有考虑到诗歌整体性这一必要特征时，我们会觉得这只不过是一系列的短诗而已。如果为了保留整体性-效果上的或印象上的整体性，作为需要，我们读了一段时间，其结果会是我们不断地在兴奋和压抑之间徘徊。在我们看来，一首真正的诗，不可避免的会遵循旧的模式，在这种情况中，我们不必忍受预先的评论压力去赞美一部作品。但是一旦我们完成了一部创作，当我们再次读它时，会直接读修订版而不是原稿，在读的过程中我们会惊讶地发现：以前推崇备至的内容如今却让人嗤之以鼻；反过来，以前令人嗤之以鼻的内容而今却备受推崇，这是经过不断地总结得出来的，而那种具有重要，全面，绝对影响，堪称是世上最好的史诗，它是不存在的-这就是毫无争议的事实。关于伊里亚特这部史诗，尽管我们没有充足的资料，也有很好的理由让人相信它是一部抒情诗集。但是从诗歌的目的来考虑，我只能说这部诗集并不是建立在完美的艺术感上。现代史诗是通过对旧体史诗的加以想象而发展而来的，但实际上它只不过是对旧体史诗不加考虑地一味盲目模仿后的产物，这种文学病态会有消亡的那天。如果说长诗在任何时候都备受欢迎，这个推论值得我怀疑，至少有一点很清楚是长诗不会再掀起浪潮。在条件不变的情况下，鉴赏一部诗歌作品就是研究它的特点，这是无可厚非的。当我们认为这个观点十分荒谬，虽然如此，我们仍然要感激季刊评论提出这个观点。当然，就诗歌篇幅这点而言，它是毫无意义的，但那些带有讽刺意味的小册子却让人顿生敬意。可以说，人们会因为山峰的高耸而产生敬畏之情，但决没有人会因为哥伦比亚德这部爱国诗的冗长的篇幅而感动，季刊也不会引导我们为这种情况而感动。同样如此，我们不会用立方英尺来衡量伟大的诗人拉马丁，也不会用英镑来衡量伟大的诗人波罗克。但是从他们对“持之以恒的努力”总是喋喋不休来看，我们这些人又算什么呢？如果单谈“持之以恒的努力”这一方面，任何有丁点知识的人都可以写出一首宏篇史诗来，于是我们就该赞赏他的努力？如果这真是一件值得称赞的事，对它的重要性我想我们会尽量克制的去称赞的。我们期待这样一个时刻的到来，大家都一致认为对于诗歌的肯定应该取决于真正的上乘之作，及其产生的影响，而不是在作品所产生的影响中“持之以恒的努力”是必不可少的。实际上，坚持和天才是不能混为一谈的，即使是关于基督教界，季刊也不会在二者之间犯糊涂。随着时间的推移，慢慢地，人们明确地接受了这个观点以及我所主张的其他观点，同时我那些曾被认为是胡说八道而遭到抨击的观点，而今如同真理一样，在本质上并为被颠覆。从另一方面来说，我们都很清楚，诗歌也存在太短的问题。太短的诗就会在遣词造句方面过度斟酌，会导致警句过多的出现。在我们看来，一首短诗充满哲理智慧或生动形象，但绝不会令人刻骨铭心或经久不衰，如同蜡烛上粘得牢牢的邮票。德 佰伦杰（De Beranger）一生充满刺激和挑战，但总的来说，成为大众瞩目的焦点，令他们痛苦不堪，正如想象仿佛一根根飘在空中的羽毛，却因无情的现实最终要落在地上。这里举出一个典型的例子，一首过度精简的小诗，它早已被人遗忘了。下面是一首精美的小诗小夜曲（Serenade）:I arise from dreams of theeIn the first sweet of nightWhen the winds are breathing lowAnd the stars are shining brightI arise from dreams of theeAnd a spirit in my feetHath led me-who knows howTo thy chamber-window sweet!The wandering airs, they faintOn the dark, the silent stream-The champak odors failLike sweet thoughts in a dream;The nightingales complaint,It dies upon her heart,As I must die on thine,O, beloved as thou art!O, lift me from the grass!I die, I faint, I fail!Let thy love in kisses rainOn my lips and eyelids pale.My cheek is cold and white, alas!My heart beats loud and fast:Oh! Press it close to thine again,Where it will break at last!可能很少人熟悉这几行诗吧,这正是雪莱的作品。这几行诗想象丰富，空灵，绝妙。诗人从甜美的梦中醒来，梦里：在南方一个仲夏的夜晚，女友漫步在小道上，周围的空气中弥漫着芳香。下面是魏里斯（Willis）写的一首精美的小诗，在我看来，这是他写得最好的一首诗了。毫无疑问，这首诗也因过度追求简短而失去了它本该享有的文学地位，不仅仅是评论界还有大众的评价。The shadows lay along BroadwayTwas near the twilight-tide-And slowly there a lady fairWas walking in her pride.Alone walkd she; but, viewlesslyWalkd spirits at her side.Peace charmd the street beneath her feet,And honor charmd the air;And all astir looked kind on her,And calld her good and fair-For all God ever gave to herShe kept with chary care.She kept with care her beauties rareFrom lovers warm and true-For her heart was cold to all but gold,And the rich came not to woo-But honor d well are charms to sell,If priests the selling do.Now walking there was one more fair-A slight girl, lily-pale;And she had unseen companyTo make the spirit quail-Twixt Want and Scorn she walkd forlornAnd nothing could avail.No merey now can clear her browFor this worlds peace to pray;For, as loves wild prayer dissolved in air,Her womans heart gave way! -But the sin forgive by Christ in HeavenBy man is cursed always!从这首诗来看，我们很难想象到诗人曾经以社会现实为题材创作了很多作品。这几行诗想象丰富，铿锵有力，字里行间感情真挚，这是他其它几部诗歌中所没有的元素。几年后，史诗的热潮逐渐淡去，史诗的时代已经是过去式了-主张连篇累牍是诗歌必不可少的特点-这次文学热潮的消失却是一种很荒谬的方式-一种异端邪说取得了胜利，尽管它错误百出到令人无法长期忍受，但是有一点很清楚的是，我们已经隐忍了一段时间。据说，在诗歌文学衰落时期，这种异端邪说所创作出的作品远远多于与其对立派所创作的所有作品。我曾经暗示过说教（The Didactic）是一篇异端邪说。缄默不语也好，公开声明也罢，我们都一直认为诗歌的终极目标是真理。据说每首诗都应该达到教化人们道德品行的目的，这也是作为评论诗歌的一个依据。美国人对于这个评论标准双手赞成，波斯顿人会对这个标准不断地完善并加以运用。这个标准，我们会牢牢记住的，它是我们写诗的出发点，也肯定了我们的初衷-在诗歌的肃穆和力量中，完全的袒露自己的情感，但我们要注意地是只能由我们自己看穿自己。我们会立刻发现，这首诗比世界上存在的任何一部作品都要庄严，高贵，这是绝无仅有的一首单纯以写诗为出发点所创作出来的诗。 对于真理人类怀着无比的崇敬之情，虽然如此，我还是会用一些措施来限制对道德品行教育的方式，但会尽量控制使用强制手段。我不会通过分离的方式而使其有所衰弱。真理需要的是严肃，庄重，她不会对香桃木有恻隐之心，在音乐中，一切都是不可或缺的，准确的说，这一切就是音乐无论做什么都是徒劳，有的只是在珠宝和鲜花的簇拥下，对此夸夸其谈。真理需要的是言简意赅而不是辞藻华丽，我们必须做到头脑冷静，镇定自若。总之，我们要尽可能地抱着一种态度对待真理，这是一种与对待诗歌截然相反的态度。如果一个人看不出真理和诗歌所起的教育作用的深层次差异，那么他一定是个盲人；尽管存在这些差异，如果一个人仍然执着于使诗歌和理论达到水乳交融的程度，那么他一定是一个不可救药的理论疯子。根据精神世界的显著差异，我们可以把它分为三个部分：智慧，鉴赏力，道德观。我认为鉴赏力居于第二位恰到好处，它与智慧，道德观息息相关。根据一点细微的差别，亚里士多德好不犹豫地将鉴赏力的某些方面归于美德本身。虽然如此，我们知道三重奏的位置是有明显的差别的，这正如智慧的本身与真理有关，鉴赏力让我们善于发现美，而道德观就被看成是一种责任。对于所提到的智慧，鉴赏力，道德观，我们还可以理解为：良知使我们自己的履行义务，理智让事情处理起来变得简单，鉴赏力满足于自身所展现的魅力。对自身不满而心生邪恶引发过一场战争：恨自己丑陋的外表，继而心里不平衡，最后滋生仇恨，对一切心怀怨恨，但对根到底，是对美的仇恨。 Edgar Allen Poe. The Poetic Principle A. Edited by Yao Naiqian . Selecting Reading For Western Classics in Literary Criticism C. Shanghai: Shanghai Foreign Language Education Press, 2003: 398-404.
展开阅读全文