Byron on Reviews

Anyone out there worried about reviews?
Here's Byron's take on them.
(It just occurs to me that I hate that expression "take on such and such").
OK. Here's Byron's OPINION/THOUGHTS/WHATEVER.  On them. Or of them.  I'm not quite sure.  Reviews, anyway. 
As expressed in a letter he wrote to Shelley in 1821, following the death of Keats (I'm nothing if not hip 'n' happening). I gather that Shelley must have informed him of the death, and that it had been perhaps hastened or even caused by distress about bad reviews. Keats died of consumption, and I suppose state of mind could certainly have affected his physical resilience, as of course it can with any illness.
Bear in mind that Byron himself had recently described Keats' poems as a kind of "mental masturbation" and a "Bedlam vision brought on by too much raw pork and opium". (see my post from a day or two back). Personally, I might take that as a compliment. But I'm not Keats, am I? He was aiming for the sublime.
And it occurs to me - how much raw pork is "too much", exactly? And why would you eat it, in any quantity? I've eaten underdone chops before, and felt a bit 'dicky' after, but it was entirely accidental and I wouldn't say they were 'raw', quite.  More on that later.
To continue.
Byron writes to Shelley, "I am very sorry to hear what you say of Keats - is it actually true? I did not think criticism had been so killing....I read the review of Endymion in The Quarterly. It was severe, - but surely not so severe as many reviews in that and other journals upon others.
I recollect the effect on me of the Edinburgh on my first poem; it was rage, and resistance, and redress - but not despondency nor despair. I grant that these are not amiable feelings; but in this world of bustle and broil, and especially in the career of writing, a man should calculate upon his powers of resistance before he goes into the arena.
"Expect not life from pain nor danger free,
Nor deem the doom of man reversed for thee."

Hmm... he's got a point - but he's being more than a tad harsh, I'd say. One of the critics had described Endymion as a work of imperturbable, drivelling idiocy. Someone else who sounded like a towering snob had advised the non-Eton/Harrow educated Keats to abandon poetry and go back to his work as an apothecary.

All very well for his Lordship, swimming up and down the Grand Canal with his menagerie and his club foot and all.

So if anyone derides my - or your - work, do remember that they were wrong about Keats.

Howl - on the road in a bath chair, sticking it to the death drive

More thoughts on the film 'Howl', which I saw yesterday.

Like most people I read the beat poets, William Burroughs and so forth when I was young. Along with Sartre and other stuff I didn't understand.

I think what mattered to me then was authenticity - it matters now too, only as I age I understand a lot more about the compromises that everyone makes.

Ginsberg talks about "the fear trap". Of being afraid of being alone and old and vulnerable.

That's realistic. And as you get older, it stares you in the face.

I sometimes say I want to live in a cave but I don't mean it. A metaphorical cave, at best - and even then I don't mean it.

I'd rather be warm, fed, and comfortable.

When you're young you can take lots of chances - any chances I took, I don't regret, even if things went pear-shaped and worse. It's good to live - and to really live. But as you get older - well. Even more so if you have children.

It might not be on to get out there on the road once you're knocking on a bit, but you can still aim for a type of authenticity. In fact, peace and quiet are conducive to lengthy spells of reflection. Perhaps being on the road is another form of self-avoidance. It's a way of sticking two fingers up at the death drive I suppose.

Don't get me wrong - I think it's a good thing if that's what you're drawn to do. Or even if it's what you drift into without thinking about it. It's a collection of experiences. I loved it when I was young, and I'm sure I would again, only I'm not in a position to do that...hmmm....

Someone gave me a good quote some years ago when I was contemplating travel. It was from the dhammapada - I must try to find it. Something along the lines of - there is no need to travel, as everything is contained in this fathoms long body of ours. But expressed much more succinctly and beautifully, of course.

Anyway - the beat poets and Ginsberg. I have a lot of time for them because they were attempting to express what it is to be alive, in the moment, without being constrained by ideas of form and convention. I don't especially enjoy reading them, but I'm very glad they got published and that their stuff is "out there" and available.

I found the film interesting mainly, personally, because of Ginsberg's ideas about writing and self expression. Easy to sneer - I don't want to.

It seemed almost like two separate films - one, about Ginsberg's ideas, which are in themselves worth a film of their own, and the second, about the obscenity trial and issues of freedom of speech. Both are inter-linked, obviously - but the film couldn't quite do justice to both.

Liked it though - thought-provoking, and far better than much of the dreck that's about.