Showing posts with label John Dryden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Dryden. Show all posts

Monday, 7 December 2009

Carol's Christmas...








Commissioned for Chrsitmas, Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy, has composed a political poem about the occasion. Commenting on topical issues such as the Cumbrain floods and expenses scandals, she also singles out high profile celebrity figures for their achievements; Joanna Lumley and Fabio Capello to name a few. There has been a trend for seasonal poetry ever since the installation of the first official Poet Laureate, John Dryden, in 1668; the third, Nahum Tate, wrote the Christmas carol, 'While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night'.

This is the first stanza of Duffy's, '12 Days of Christmas':

On the first day of Christmas,

a buzzard on a branch.

In Afghanistan,

no partridge, pear tree;

but my true love sent to me

a card from home.

I sat alone,

crouched in yellow dust,

and traced the grins of my kids

with my thumb.

Somewhere down the line,

for another father, husband,

brother, son, a bullet

with his name on.

Thursday, 19 November 2009

On this day...










English playwright and poet Thomas Shadwell died in 1692, at the age of 50. In relative terms a literary success, Shadwell was awarded the title of Poet Laureate in 1689, succeeding contemporary John Dryden. Yet it is for his relationship with Dryden, mainly conveyed through text, that he is best remembered; the two swapping some three satirical pieces each, about the other. It was Dryden who came out on top; the protagonist of his work 'Mac Flecknoe', the King of Dullness, giving his crown to Shadwell, who is described as 'confirm'd in full stupidity'. While many of their debates took to a political or religious line, both diametrically opposed on those issues, the pair were also known to contemplate more intellectual ideas, such as whether Ben Jonson or Shakespeare were a better playwright. The best works of the man who 'enjoyed a popularity in his own day which is not easily explicable in ours', are play 'Epsom Wells', and poem 'Dear Pretty Youth'.