Poetry Page

[BarbStAubrey]

Our Poetry Page Reads
Shakespeare Sonnets

2016 the world commemorates
400 years since the death of William Shakespeare.


April, 1616. A man died, but a legacy was born; one which proved
so essential not only to the development of
drama and literature, but to language, to thoughts and ideas.

A Sonnet a Day
July 1, till December 1,
We read in order, from 1 to 154
A Shakespeare Sonnet each day.

Welcome
Please share your comments about the day's Sonnet.

Link: First Post of Our Discussion on July 1

Shakespeare Anniversary Links

Shakespeare400 Shakespeare 400 at The Globe Shakespeare 400 Chicago Dame Judi leads Shakespeare Day gala finale Turning Shakespeare’s sonnets into short films

Discussion Leaders: Barb

[BarbStAubrey]

Shakespeare Sonnet LXXXVII


Sleeping Rinaldo, Bewitched by Love

Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know'st thy estimate: The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing; My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting? And for that riches where is my deserving? The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting, And so my patent back again is swerving. Thyself thou gavest, thy own worth then not knowing, Or me, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking; So thy great gift, upon misprision growing, Comes home again, on better judgment making.    Thus have I had thee, as a dream doth flatter,    In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.

William Shakespeare's Sonnet 87
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTSpiYeJR3k

[bellamarie]

Sonnet LXXXVII

Now this sonnet makes me wonder if my suspicions were correct all along, was his muse all in his head, imagined, like an obsession he has been living.  Now it appears he is willing to let go of it.  He realizes this has been a fantasy and can never become a reality.  It's like a writer who sits at their desk day after day creating this wonderful story/poem and lives through it, only to come to the end and realizes it's only just that, his creation in his mind!

[BarbStAubrey]

I'm thinking so Bellamarie - almost as we have a saint in our head even if there is a reminder in the form of a statue or prayer card - compared to the last few I must say I like this poem - this thought he writes does not sound as whiny but stating how he sees it...

The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
My bonds in thee are all determinate.

I never knew that the Archangel Gabriel was thought to be a muse to writing - need to find out more about that connection and when did it start. Interesting how we see inspiration as separate from ourselves - in all the reading the past few days, have no memory of what site but I thought interesting it was as a result of the viewpoint of the Trinity that depended on imagination to understand or at least accept, so that the concept of man having imagination was accepted - Seems anything written before that time was supposed to be based in fact - Which begs the plausible with the myths - but then truth be said, with no science to refute the myths they were probably thought to be real. Hard to imagine but when you think of it, what we know today that makes for us the myth stories as imaginary was not known in prehistory when the stories were simply explanations for earthly and human phenomena. 

[bellamarie]

Gabriel is known as the divine messenger/revealer/interpreter. 

[BarbStAubrey]

aha - so a messenger is a writer I guess hmm I think of a messenger as like a Fed Ex delivery or a bike delivery which back in history was probably a runner. Well something to look into isn't it... 

[PatH]

What this poem says to me is, you were always too good for me, and gave me your regard in mistake, not knowing your own worth.  Now you do, so rightly no longer want me.  For me, it was a bit of undeserved good luck, now melted away, just as I can dream of being a king, but then wake up.

My footnote says "upon misprison growing" means "having its origin in a mistake".

[BarbStAubrey]

Thanks Pat that does give it a different twist -  to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking; or as you made it clearer using today's words, gave me your regard in mistake. Regardless Shakespeare's words or yours it sure sums it up doesn't it... I do get Bellamarie's point as well, that whomever gave him his/her regard sounds like it is in his imagination or as Bellamarie says, in his head.

The first line puts a period at the end of this playing with whomever it is that is so beautiful that his words cannot describe - Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing,

Interesting to see how Shakespeare takes a feeling or idea and repeats it several time in a series of Sonnets, each using a different metaphor - read somewhere that is what courtroom lawyers do, say the same thing in several ways with a different set of comparisons each time.

[BarbStAubrey]

Shakespeare Sonnet LXXXVIII

 

When thou shalt be disposed to set me light, And place my merit in the eye of scorn, Upon thy side against myself I'll fight, And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn. With mine own weakness being best acquainted, Upon thy part I can set down a story Of faults conceal'd, wherein I am attainted, That thou in losing me shalt win much glory: And I by this will be a gainer too; For bending all my loving thoughts on thee, The injuries that to myself I do, Doing thee vantage, double-vantage me.    Such is my love, to thee I so belong,    That for thy right myself will bear all wrong.

William Shakespeare Sonnet 88
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0-gj2peZ148

[bellamarie]

Sonnet LXXXVIII

When thou shalt be disposed to set me light,
And place my merit in the eye of scorn,

Hmmm.... why does Shakespeare think this person has reason to speak ill of him to others?

 Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
   That for thy right myself will bear all wrong. 

He says he knows all his own weaknesses and will still love and defend this person even when they speak ill of him.  When reading this the scripture of Jesus teaching to turn the other cheek came to mind:

In the Gospel of Matthew, an alternative for "an eye for an eye" is given by Jesus: 38 Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: 39 But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.

[BarbStAubrey]

I know Bellamarie - I am trying to figure out how he gains by agreeing with her that he is guilty of the faults she mentions -

That thou in losing me shalt win much glory:
And I by this will be a gainer too;
...
Doing thee vantage, double-vantage me.

Even the last two lines does not spell out what is the advantage to him of agreeing with her. I understand the parable that is about meekness - do you think it is as simple as all of that? - If you have ever had someone stab you in the back with their negative judgment as if it were truth - turning the other cheek is note easy and yet, there is no winning for loosing in that kind of situation - complain or try to reverse the the story to reflect the truth and you are furthering the interest in the story and leaving those who actually had no skin in the story confused so the take side supporting their choice on other aspects of personality. The entire thing is a form of bullying - I can see him turning the other cheek but to consider this person someone to admire if not adore - hmmm and their behavior to ruin your reputation is a double-vantage - hmmm I am just not seeing it.

[PatH]

Although this sonnet sounds like it's written to a woman, I think it's still the same young man/beloved/patron.  It's an emotional progression from the previous poems, where he's abasing himself versus the rival poet, admitting he's not as good, but saying his love is stronger.  Now he's really crawling.  I doubt it will work, that sort of behavior seldom does.

[PatH]

Barb, you were confused about where I'm based.  So am I.  The majority of the time I'm still in my house in Bethesda, but I spend a lot of time in Portland, and will eventually move there.  I'm in Portland now, and Tuesday will switch to Los Angeles to see JoanK before heading back to Bethesda.

[BarbStAubrey]

Your being in Portland I quick looked it up - can  you believe it is warmer in Portland than it is here - been in the back of the house and got hungry - kitchen door leads to dining where the window is open facing North - it was down right cold - I had to hurry or get a jacket - have not felt cold like that since last April - the norther came - still overcast and gradually, true to form the clouds will blow away by tomorrow afternoon or evening - but for now everything has a blue caste and it is cold - a 20 degree drop in temperature since around 10:30 this morning - a damp cold - a soup for supper cold - won't open the house till tomorrow when the sun is out and the wind is dry rather than this wet cold dreary whatever - and Pat according to the weather Portland is at 74 and we are at 69 - at least you probably have signs of Autumn that we just do not see till the very end of November but it is cold - tra la - it is cold... need to call my son and see if the cold reached Houston...

Sorry but I could care less if Shakespeare is being a fool in love or not - there is a cold breeze - it is actually blowing the trees, grass and bushes - hehe it is cold! 

[bellamarie]

Yes, PatH., I agree I don't think he has switched to whom he is addressing all this self proclaimed love for, I too think it is still the un named male love. 

Indeed he seems to be wallering in proclamation he will remain true even in the worst of this person reviling him and refusing him.  Again I see this as more of his imagination.  Do we know if Shakespeare ever suffered from any mental illnesses?  Why do I keep seeing him as a bit of grandiose disorder: 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grandiose_delusions

[BarbStAubrey]

Shakespeare Sonnet LXXXIX

Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault, And I will comment upon that offence; Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt, Against thy reasons making no defence. Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill, To set a form upon desired change, As I'll myself disgrace: knowing thy will, I will acquaintance strangle and look strange, Be absent from thy walks, and in my tongue Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell, Lest I, too much profane, should do it wrong And haply of our old acquaintance tell.    For thee against myself I'll vow debate,    For I must ne'er love him whom thou dost hate.

William Shakespeare's Sonnet 89
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2u6A7ycx3PE

[bellamarie]

Sonnet LXXXIX

It appears he is willing to take all blame for the break up, whether in his head or reality.  He is willing to act as though they never knew each other so others will not get a bad impression of the loved one.  He says he is willing to hate himself is this person so hates him.  Ughhh....  such self loathing in this poem. 

[BarbStAubrey]

Bellamarie it sure can sound like self loathing can't it - I think is is how you read it or maybe it is how comfortable you are with irony.

I'm thinking we sometimes do a number on anyone attempting to backstab - we humor the situation or person who is taking it seriously by showing or speaking in spades whatever the fault is that is used by the one backstabbing - like in the poem, walking lame just to prove to the backstabber as if you are lame and then even promising not to be in the same room or as the poem, on the same walking path - while all the time you and your friends see your token words and behavior for what it is - a secret smile that does not show on the lips yet, others share it and during some future discussion the incident will be mentioned as an example of the ridiculous.   

Who knows what Shakespeare had in mind - and it could be that it was a perfect example of self loathing - but then it could be irony. Again, we see what we see in these poems and our own life experience has us see what we see...

[JoanK]

People spoke then with much more exaggerated emotion than they do today. And poets more so. It's hard to read, though.

[bellamarie]

Yes, Joan K., they did use more emotion and we have to keep in mind Shakespeare's plays are filled with drama, mental illness and suicide.

[BarbStAubrey]

hmm I am thinking this Sonnet may be deeper than we can decipher - Yes, Bellamarie Shakespeare sure was a master at writing in his plays mental illness and there were several suicides - and Joan saying it is hard to read caught me up short - the word that was a reach when I read the Sonnet was profane - I thought it meant profanity - it could fit but was a stretch to make sense - well I started to look up the use of the word profane in the seventeenth century and it has a meaning I would never have guessed. And so I am thinking there may be more to this poem that is going over our head.

However, if we do not get the seventeenth century meaning again - we are not Shakespearean scholars - we are bringing to the poems our life experience - and yes, it would be good to understand the meaning of the words as used by Shakespeare but we can see the metaphor to life and apply a personal meaning -

As to profane - "(from pro + fanum = on the threshold of the temple) intended those on the outside, those not initiated or who haven’t pronounced ‘vows.’

From Vergil’s “Procul o, procul este, profani” (‘Away, away, profane ones’) and Horace’s “Odi profanum volgus et arceo. Favete linguis” (‘I hate the profane crowd and exclude it. Let your tongues be silent’) ‘profane’ was used of those who must remain distant and outside the coterie. (Horace will sing only to the elected youth of Rome [“virginibus puerisque”].)

Here the poet will remain remote from the youth and his friends: if his promenades took place in private gardens, as was customary, then the poet will stay outside the enclosure and literarily absent from his inner circle."

The Sonnet has now a different slant so that the whole thing may be about a separation between his beloved and himself - that all the agreeing to what reads as self loathing is how he speaks of this separation that may have come about because their intimacy could not continue or, he is older and now must step aside or, if the lover is a women, maybe she is to be married and he can no longer engage in thinking of her as his muse - there appears to be another poet that he will not debate so, whatever that is all about he does want to leave the field as the saying goes.

So thanks Joan your post suggested a second look with yet another interpretation and there are probably a few more.

[BarbStAubrey]

Shakespeare Sonnet LXXXX

Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow, And do not drop in for an after-loss: Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'scoped this sorrow, Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe; Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, To linger out a purposed overthrow. If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last, When other petty griefs have done their spite But in the onset come; so shall I taste At first the very worst of fortune's might,    And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,    Compared with loss of thee will not seem so.

Shakespeare Sonnet 90
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2TwRncBsGE

[BarbStAubrey]

Thanks goodness no rain today and the sun is out because this is such a painful poem - what a gift to be able to put in words such a magnanimity of spirit - whew - so the poet is facing a public censure or possibly a shunning and he, with a generous spirit is telling his beloved to leave and leave now before the small slings at him start to eat at his chance, or as the definition in the seventeenth century, his fortune meaning; Speculation and called the,"Mistress of Events." 

Hmm so he is replacing one muse, assuming a goddess that you, Bellamarie caught that was in his head, with another, the Mistress of Events who represents speculation/chance.

Boethius may suggest that nature does not start degenerate or imperfect, but rather starts perfect and ideal and then degenerates to the lower and weaker form where as, the Catholic Church believed humans started imperfect and Baptism cleared us of the original sin putting us on the road towards the ideal. Along the road of life, events alter and offer us a choice and the poet is protecting his beloved from the event of barbaric slings and arrows that are coming his way, telling his beloved, Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'scoped this sorrow, Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe;.

I wonder which came first - this Sonnet 90 or Hamlet's soliloquy, "The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them. To die- to sleep- No more;"

[PatH]

Painful is right.  It's not said what the misfortune is, but he's out of favor, people are turning from him.  I don't feel the beloved might be caught in the disfavor, more that the poet feels the belove will turn from him too.  His response is: be the first to leave me, so I get the worst over with, and the rest will seem like nothing by comparison.

Some bits of these poems really get to you, and for me, it was the last bit:

If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite.
But in the onset come;so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune's might;
   And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
   Compar'd with loss of thee will not seem so.

[BarbStAubrey]

It is an awful crying moan isn't it Pat - interesting that yes, it could be self protection from the pain of the beloved leaving him -  I give him a generous spirit thinking he is warning the beloved to take care of himself so the beloved does not go down with him. Sort of a Titanic moment - go, get in the lifeboat - save yourself - but yes, it could be - I'm going to drown and you are abandoning me or maybe even pushing me over the rail. Oh my...

After reading this though I must say I had to read the Hamlet bit - and oh it is really far more painful than I ever saw - I always saw Hamlet as rather petulant wanting attention from mom and since he did not get the attention he seeks she along with her new husband were the enemies beyond redemption so that he could have a tantrum - but now after reading this Sonnet and re-reading the Soliloquy I really have a different opinion of Hamlet and need to re-read the play - not today but soon. 

[BarbStAubrey]

Shakespeare Sonnet LXXXXI

 

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, Some in their wealth, some in their body's force, Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill; Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse; And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure, Wherein it finds a joy above the rest: But these particulars are not my measure; All these I better in one general best. Thy love is better than high birth to me, Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost, Of more delight than hawks or horses be; And having thee, of all men's pride I boast:    Wretched in this alone, that thou may'st take    All this away, and me most wretched make.

William Shakespeare Sonnet 91
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZMDGgKAAPE

[bellamarie]

Sonnet LXXXX

He is begging him to go ahead and leave and let him deal with the pain now, rather than to give him any false hope, only for it to be of greater pain to see the love will leave at a later time.

This is indeed painful to read.  The poor man is in distress. 

[bellamarie]

Sonnet LXXXXI

Here his tone has changed from desperate and in distress to a more calm, peacefulness, describing how others love their possessions to bring them joy in life, but for him just having this person's love would be enough for him, yet it could make him wretched to lose it.

It reminds me of the homily Fr. Miller gave this past Sunday making us realize that throughout our lives we gather many people and possessions, and as we get older they become less and less, until truly in the end before death, it is just about yourself and God.  Shakespeare seems to have placed the love of this person higher than anything or anyone including God.  We know he believed in God being a Catholic, yet these last few sonnets with his desperateness to have this person love him seems to have left him feeling there is no one or nothing in the world that could bring him completeness or joy other than this one person.  This is another reason I see these sonnets as his creative drama like his plays.  Yes, they could be based on real life, but for me it is more dreamlike, fantasy, dramatic to the point of not a reality.  He has created this man (himself) in love with a young male (his muse) who is being tormented in his own mind, for loving and not having the love returned.

At least I feel we may be turning from the dark and desperate to a new lighter theme......  maybe.

[bellamarie]

Barb,

Catholic Church believed humans started imperfect and Baptism cleared us of the original sin putting us on the road towards the ideal.

Without getting into a debate, I have to say I see God's creation inside the womb as "perfect."  The reason for the cleansing of the sin at Baptism is because the life has entered the world of sin of Adam and Eve, needing to be cleansed.  So I see humans starting as perfect, and then become imperfect.  God created human/perfection, man created sin/imperfection.  Just my thought.  No right or wrong answer, just differences of opinions. 

[PatH]

Bellamarie:

At least I feel we may be turning from the dark and desperate to a new lighter theme......  maybe.

I sure hope so.  I'm getting tired of so much suffering.  But maybe is right.  He's still anxious about losing his love.

It's a nice sonnet--very graceful.  I particularly the rhythmic listing of men's delights in the first four lines.

[BarbStAubrey]

Sorry so late in the day - sinus infection and feeling miserable thinking I'll say something after this pill or cup of soup when I will have more energy - ah so...

Bellamarie "creative drama like his plays" is just so right on - yes, I can see it... and once he gets an idea he sure knows how to show it from every side doesn't he - I almost said beat it to death but then fair is fair he shows all sides using as many metaphors that he can think of.

Looks like you too Pat caught the mood of Bellamarie's phrase "may be turning from the dark" - as another saying, I think it is from Benton's Lucia, we shall see what we shall see. 

Listing all the aspects of life folks glory in, or as Pat you say, all the delights - I had to laugh at hawks and hounds!? In contrast today it seems there is similar pride taken in, cockatoos - especially white cockatoos - cockatoos that sing, dance, talk, roll balls, play with pet kittens and annoy pet dogs - cockatoos with their Polynesian crown like head feathers that talk up a storm while sitting on their caretaker/owner's head, shoulder, nose or big toe and are filmed ad infinitum for youtube. And then, today its all sorts of dogs, domesticated dogs, cute dogs, elegant dogs, dogs uglier than sin but few, if any hunting hounds that break loose in packs baying and barking through the brush.  However, I have a few friends who take pride and glory in their horses - here they are in the late 70s and winning trophies for putting their cutting horse through its paces or enjoying a weekend by joining other horse owners on long trail rides.

Today, a person depending on another so to not feel wretched we would call co-dependent - it appears it was a glorified way to feel back in the seventeenth century. 

I'm nodding off here while writing this with so much meds in my system - better close and hope for a better tomorrow.

[BarbStAubrey]

Shakespeare Sonnet LXXXXII

But do thy worst to steal thyself away, For term of life thou art assured mine; And life no longer than thy love will stay, For it depends upon that love of thine. Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs, When in the least of them my life hath end. I see a better state to me belongs Than that which on thy humour doth depend; Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind, Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie. O, what a happy title do I find, Happy to have thy love, happy to die!    But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot?    Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.

William Shakespeare's Sonnet 92
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BI7KjUL2cQk

[bellamarie]

Sonnet LXXXXII

For term of life thou art assured mine;

Happy to have thy love, happy to die!

A continuation of sonnet 91, only now he is speaking of being alive as long as "you" love me, and happy to die he no longer has "thy" love.

I see his dramatic effects in this sonnet much like that of his play Romeo and Juliet.  He can't live without "thy" love.  If he can't be with his love he may as well die.

Barb, I hope you are feeling better after your meds and rest.  My allergies have been raising havoc on my eyes, nose and throat.  Tis the season....  Ughhh

 

[BarbStAubrey]

Thanks Bellamarie feel much better today - still lethargic but that I know is a reaction to allergies -  I need to change the filter in the air purifier or whatever it is called - but I need to order some filter material - I think I used up the last batch - may just take what is on there and bang it against the house to get some of what the filter is holding to fall out - Now that the allergy store closed no one is carrying the filters and I have to order them online.

The poem - yep, that is why we are here - you nailed it Bellamarie - and here again I was getting annoyed with all this dependence on another - till by chance I found this earlier... which suggests to me the thoughts in this Sonnet probably came from this thinking - no way would Shakespeare not know the Bible - it seems to have been the bases and allegory for most of what was written during this time in history.

[JoanK]

 guess I'm still confused. The mood has definitely changed. he's going to die, but is happy about it (presumably because he'll be in heaven?

From the mood of the last two, I'm guessing that what's really going on is that he's accepted that X is really leaving him, has given up trying to get him back, and is really ready to move on (although he's not going to tell x that). I wonder if now we're going to get some sniping at X?

[BarbStAubrey]

Do you think that is what comes next Joan - to snip at this beloved for leaving him - ah so... I guess that is a reaction for some - nothing we have read so far leads us to believe Shakespeare will become a jolly soul - he is very good at doom and gloom isn't he and every so often there is a glorious burst of wisdom or lovely phrases that elude to love - but jolly not really - no 'As You Like It' or 'Comedy of Errors' peeking out from these Sonnets is there.

[bellamarie]

JoanK., I think he says he is happy to die because living without the love of this person would not be worth living at all.  For some reason I see a little tongue in cheek in this.
 Barb, he goes from so many diffferent moods, it's like the phases you go through in accepting the death of a loved one.  Snipping may be his next mood swing. 

[BarbStAubrey]

We shall soon find out if snipping is on the menu won't we - Well here we go into October - we started this back in July - all that is left is October and November - and here we go again stretching the last post of two so that we can have the daily Sonnet on the same page as the page we respond -

Oh I have the perfect tid bit to bring - found this and was not sure when we could use it but I found it fascinating.  Next Post...

[BarbStAubrey]

The Birnam Oak

This Perthshire oak tree is several centuries old and thought to be the last survivor of the ancient medieval oakwood mentioned in Macbeth. It is believed Shakespeare was inspired when he visited the area in 1599 as part of a troupe of travelling players.   In the play, the witch tells Macbeth he will remain King until Birnam wood comes to his castle at Dunsinane. This sounded an unlikely eventuality until an attacking army camouflaged itself with branches from the great wood.

[BarbStAubrey]

When That I Was And A Little Tiny Boy
 - by William Shakespeare

When that I was and a little tiny boy, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, A foolish thing was but a toy, For the rain it raineth every day. But when I came to man's estate, With hey, ho, . . . 'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate For the rain, . . . But when I came, alas! to wive, With hey, ho, . . . By swaggering could I never thrive, For the rain, . . . But when I came unto my beds, With hey, ho, . . . With toss-pots still had drunken heads, For the rain, . . . A great while ago the world begun, With hey, ho, . . . But that's all one, our play is done. And we'll strive to please you every day.