Themselves are only mystic books
For Valentine’s Day I’m sharing one of my favorite poems — John Donne’s Elegy XIX: To his Mistress going to bed. This is its second appearance in print, from the third edition of his poetry published in 1669.
The poem, denied a license for publication in the first edition, was printed first in an anthology in 1654 before taking its place alongside his other works in 1669. Visit Texas A&M’s Digital Donne website to see the entire text, as well as other early Donne books and manuscripts.
None of Donne’s poetry was printed before his death in 1631, but pieces such as this one did circulate widely in manuscript. You can read more about that, and see some manuscript examples, in a fascinating short essay at the Folger Library: John Donne’s “To His Mistress Going to bed” As an Open Source.
Elegy XIX: To his Mistress going to bed
Come, Madam, come, all rest my powers defie,
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe oft-times having the foe in sight,
Is tir’d with standing though he never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heavens Zone glittering,
But a far fairer world incompassing.
Unpin that spangled breastplate which you wear,
That th’ eyes of busie fooles may be stopt there.
Unlace your self, for that harmonious chyme,
Tells me from you, that now it is bed time.
Off with that happy busk, which I envie,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off, such beautious state reveals,
As when through flowry meads th’hills shadows steales.
Off with that wyerie Coronet and shew
The haiery Diadem which on your head doth grow:
Now off with those shooes, and then softly tread
In this loves hallow’d temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes, heaven’s Angels us’d to be
Reveal’d to men: thou Angel bringst with thee
A heaven like Mahomets Paradice, and though
Ill spirits walk in white; we easly know,
By this these Angels from an evil sprite,
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.
Licence my roaving hands, and let them go,
Before, behind, between, above, below,
O my America! my new-found-land,
My Kingdom’s safest, when with one man man’d.
My Myne of precious stones: My Emperie,
How am I blest in thus discovering thee?
To enter in these bonds, is to be free;
Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be,
Full nakedness! All joyes are due to thee,
As souls unbodied, bodies uncloth’d must be,
To taste whole joyes. Jems which you women use
Are like Atlanta’s ball: cast in mens views,
That when a fools eye lighteth on a Jem,
His earthly soul may court that, not them:
Like pictures or like books gay coverings made,
For lay-men are all women thus arrayed.
Themselves are only mystick books, which we,
(Whom their imputed grace will dignifie)
Must see revealed. Then since that I may know;
As liberally, as to thy Midwife shew
Thy self: cast all, yea, this white lynnen hence
There is no pennance due to innocence:
To teach thee I am naked first, why than
What needst thou have more covering then a man.
Who’s Afraid of Christine de Pizan?
If it were customary to send daughters to school like sons, and if they were then taught the natural sciences, they would learn as thoroughly and understand the subtleties of all the arts and sciences as well as sons. – Christine de Pizan, The Book of the City of Ladies, 1404
Sometimes described as an early feminist and also as Europe’s first professional female writer, Christine de Pizan was born in Venice in 1365, the daughter of a highly respected court physician and astrologer who shortly thereafter relocated his family to the French court of Charles V.
The young Christine received an excellent education, becoming literate in French, Italian and possibly Latin, and at fifteen married a royal secretary. The family prospered until the death of their patron Charles V in 1380, and disaster struck in 1390 with the deaths of both her father and husband. Widowed, with three children and elderly female relatives to provide for, Christine eschewed her obvious options—remarriage or life in a convent—and took up the pen. She began by writing courtly love poetry, the positive reception of which earned her noble patrons and allowed her to move on to a variety of literature, including autobiographical works and a life of Charles V.
In 1399 de Pizan initiated the Querelle, “the most celebrated literary debate of the Middle Ages,” when she attacked the second half of the widely popular allegorical poem Le Roman de la Rose (The Romance of the Rose). Christine objected to the work’s misogynistic themes, primarily its portrayal of women as immoral seductresses. Following this controversy she composed her own allegory, The Book of the City of Ladies, a dialogue that examined the strengths and moral qualities of women and strongly rejected the male-dominated intellectual discourse of the age. She followed it with The Treasure of the City of Ladies, a book of practical and empowering advice directed at women of all social stations.
Christine continued to write prolifically, adding historical and military subjects to her repertoire, until she retired to a convent in 1418. This was where she completed her final book, a celebration of Joan of Arc. The date of her death is unknown, but was probably around 1429.
— Sarah Lawson’s introduction to the Penguin Classics edition of The Treasure of the City of Ladies is available in its entirety via Google Books. Definitely check out her discussion of the reception of de Pizan’s works over the ensuing centuries.
— The page above is from the largest of de Pizan’s extant manuscripts, a lavish presentation copy compiling 30 individual works that was commissioned by Queen Isabeau de Bavière of France in 1413. It is currently held by the British Library (BL Harley MS 4431) and is partially available in a digital gallery here. (Watch out, though. The gallery view works well, but the link to “digital images and transcriptions” keeps crashing Firefox for me.)
Filed under Christine de Pizan, Medieval literature, The Book of the City of Ladies, The Romance of the Rose, The Treasure of the City of Ladies, allegory, authors, books, courtly love, feminism, gender issues, illuminated manuscripts, poetry, women's literature | Comment (0)Diamonds in the Rough
I’ve spent a lot of time on the Tube lately, and have become enamored of the Poems on the Underground. When you happen onto one it’s like all the noise stops for a minute.
The program began in 1986, and three sets of poems are presented each year. Check out the current set (scroll down a bit), visit the archive, or try a random poem of the day.
Filed under art, literature, london, london underground, poetry, public transport | Comment (0)Dante
I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to get to Dante, but I finally read the Inferno this weekend. I guess it never seemed like something I could get into, not being very religious, but I ended up loving it. I found a copy in the library with really good commentary, and at some point in the near future I hope to find the last two volumes by the same translators. In the meantime, some really good Dante links.
— MS Holkham misc. 48 is a late 14th century illuminated manuscript of the Inferno at the Bodleian Library.
— One my favorite sites is Renaissance Dante in Print: 1472-1629. This online exhibit from Notre Dame exhaustively covers the early printing history of the Divine Comedy, with image links at the bottom of each page. I particularly liked the section on Dantean cosmography, which compiles the different graphical representations of Dante’s Hell.
— The National Gallery of Victoria displays 36 of William Blake’s watercolor illustrations for the Divine Comedy, created during the last years of his life, between 1824 and 1827. The images are small, but clear.
— The William Blake Archive, UNC Chapel Hill, has an even larger digital collection, including 102 images for the Divine Comedy. The only problems are that the image viewer is a bit buggy, at least in Firefox, and when you enlarge an image it blurs and the sides get cut off.
— Digital Dante, from Columbia University, includes a collection of small images by Gustave Doré, Sandro Botticelli and Salvador Dali.
— The World of Dante, created by the University of Virginia, is a great resource and has a lovely gallery that includes images from Yates Thompson 36, a strikingly beautiful 15th century illuminated manuscript held by the British Library. The gallery also displays Dantean art by Botticelli, Doré, Alessandro Vellutello and John Flaxman.
- Carnal Sinners – Yates Thompson 36, British Library.
More Miscellany from the Library of Congress
As promised, more images from the Library of Congress Other Digitized Materials collection that caught my fancy. As yesterday, click the image to go to the material at the LOC website.
History of Insects. New-York: Printed and sold by Samuel Wood, at the Juvenile Book-Store, no. 357, Pearl-Street, 1813.
[Ivory hornbook] [realia]. [England: s.n., 18--].
[Wood hornbook] [realia]. [United States?: s.n., 18--]
— Hornbooks were tools used to teach children the alphabet, and sometimes a few words and religious verses, before paper was cheap and widely available. The first example above is ivory with a beautiful carved alphabet, and it looks to have been broken and repaired at some point. The second hornbook is made of wood, with a printed sheet underneath a thin layer of translucent horn to protect the page, which explains the origin of the term “hornbook.” This one appears to be multi-functional, with what looks like an abacus at the top.
The World Turned Upside Down, or, No News, and Strange News. York: Printed and sold by J. Kendrew, Colliergate, [1820?].
Solemn Warning to Dancers, A. New York: Published by N. Bangs and J. Emory for the Tract Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church, between 1824 and 1832.
— I have a thing for religious pamphlets. I’ve actually been known to go out of my way to get copies from street preachers. The illustration in the above is great – note the snake off to the side.
Whitman, Walt, 1819-1892. Leaves of Grass. Brooklyn, New York : [Walt Whitman], 1855 ([Brooklyn, New York : Rome Brothers])
— I need to get this as a font.
Wollstonecraft, Mary, 1759-1797. A vindication of the rights of woman: with strictures on moral and political subjects. Philadelphia: Printed by William Gibbons …, 1792.
The LOC has a big collection of magic posters. Below are some of my favorites.
