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James possessed to a high degree qualities of attention, powers of observation, and an adorable desire to render experience vividly. It is a cliche to say that "a world comes alive" in pages like these, but that is the feeling I have when, for example, I read a letter written from Dresden to Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. on May 15, 1868: "Wendell of my entrails! At the momentous point where the last sheet ends I was interrupted by the buxom maid calling me to tea and through various causes have not got back till now. As I sit by the open window waiting for my bkfst. and look out on the line of Droschkies drawn up on the side of the dohna Platz, and see the coachmen, red faced, red collared, & blue coated with varnished hats, sitting in a variety of indolent attitudes upon their boxes, one of them looking in upon me and probably wondering what the devil I am, When I see the big sky with a monstrous white cloud battening and bulging up from behind the houses into the blue, with a uniform coppery film drawn over cloud & blue which makes one anticipate a soaking day, when I see the houses opposite with their balconies & windows filled with flowers & greenery -- ha! on the topmost balcony of one stands a maiden, black jaketted, red petticoated, fair and slim under the striped awning leaning her elbow on the rail and her peach like chin upon her rosy finger tips -- Of whom thinkest thou, maiden, up there aloft? here, *here!* beats that human heart for wh. in the drunkenness of the morning hour thy being vaguely longs, & tremulously, but recklessly and wickedly posits elsewhere, over those distant housetops which thou regardest..."
This jocular yet earnest mood is perhaps the most pervasive one in these letters. Yet we also get glimpses into the deep and suicidal depressions he fought during his early years. Several of the letters in this volume blossom into fascinating six- or seven-page ruminations on some of the deepest questions of philosophy and religion, for these are the years in which James, "swamped in an empirical philosophy," won through to a view of the world that found room for consciousness, will, and spirit. It is in his letters to (and from) Holmes, the physician Henry Bowditch, and his bosom friend Tom Ward that we feel most intensely James's mind and heart grappling with the ideas he cares most deeply about.
But James is not always mulling over deep principles. At eighteen years of age he briefly considered becoming a painter, and began studies to that end, so it is in his character to be fully alive to surface details of the scene about him. A commentary on cultural and political matters full of interesting judgments runs though these letters. Readers will also come to feel they know well every member of the James family. WJ's letters to his sister Alice are especially remarkable.
Though my initial reaction to the policy of extremely restrained annotation practiced by the editorial team was one of frustration, in the end I came to appreciate the free hand it gives us to reread letters more carefully and to feel ourselves into the wonderful and mysterious crannies of the inner life of a great human being. To this end, I recommend deferring the introduction by Giles Gunn until after they have concluded the letters. Professor Gunn (of UC Santa Barbara) has interesting and pertinent things to say -- especially about James's relation to his father, the Swedenborgian theologian Henry James, Sr., on whose work Gunn has written -- but there is nothing there that cannot wait until readers have first immersed themselves in the primary texts.
The volumes of this series are beautiful in their craftsmanship, and it is an aesthetic as well as intellectual delight to manipulate and peruse them. This volume would make an excellent gift for a bright high school senior or college freshman, since the problems of youth and of finding a vocation hold a special place here -- for anyone struggling with a chronic or debilitating illness (James is plagued with back and eye problems through most of these years) -- or indeed, for anyone who reads!
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Oldcastle in the play is shown as loyal to Henry V and esteemed by many people of both high and low degree. A follower of Wycliff, he stood for removing the abuses of the Church. Those who benefited from the abuses, the bishops, wanted Henry V to see Oldcastle as disloyal to the crown.
For my purposes in comparing Oldcastle to Falstaff, the book was useful but I need to read about Wycliff and John Florio to complete the picture.
It was originally a doctoral dissertation.
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Enriching our understanding of the human heart in impossible circumstances is "Dear Sarah: Letters Home from a Soldier of the Iron Brigade," edited with loving care by the soldier's descendant Coralou Peel Lassen.
In my opinion it goes without saying that this recent contribution is refreshing, of great value to not only the modern reader but to posterity, too, to those who want to know more about the men --and women; the real human beings, who lived through and endured the American Civil War. This volume also illuminates the nature of not only the American Civil War but all war.
The Iron Brigade Soldier who wrote to Sarah was a young Union soldier named John Henry Pardington. The intense personal nature of his letters, what he writes about and how, is more than touching. The letters left by John Pardington offer a glimpse into the mind and soul of a man in the midst of a terrible situation and how he copes with it, how it defines him, shapes him, and how he continues to triumph over adversity.
After reading several pages I already felt like I was becoming familiar with the people "back home" that this soldier wrote about 140 years ago. I began to feel the pain of his separation from his wife and daughter, the pain of every aching joint and privation he endured. The more I opened up to John Pardington and the realities of his life at war, the more psychologically invested I became --and the more I read. Knowing the inevitable outcome made some letters particularly poignant. And painful. Often, I found the book emotionally overwhelming and put it down, reflecting. Sometimes I re-read passages with a fresh insight --from John's point of view. It isn't too much to say the book is, at turns and by its nature, not only a body blow but also eye-opening. Reading firsthand accounts of how soldiers of the Iron Brigade's 24th Michigan Infantry lived and died day by day in 1862-63 can leave one feeling "beat" inside, symptomatic of the tremendous impact the reality of John Pardington's life.
I think Ms. Lassen has really done an excellent job editing John's letters. One would think any student of history (or humanity) would want to read this book because John's words are universal. He was a Union soldier of the American Civil War, but his triumphs and failures, needs and wants, yearnings and hopes, etc., are an insight into the psyche of men away at war of all times. Her triumph is bringing John's words to the modern reader and to posterity. If one wanted to know how a soldier might be feeling or what he/she might be thinking, from Marathon to the Persian Gulf, one can find the essence of the human spirit, a soldier's dilemma, distilled and evolving in the letters of John Pardington.
John Pardington's human face on a large historical event; his evident love and longing; his deeply human and often tender observations made me again wonder why there must be conflict, wars that kill far too many John Pardingtons and leave the world a poorer place. Is there such a thing as a tragic triumph? If so, John Pardington's triumph in expressing himself, in his very being, is all the more tragic because of his death at Gettysburg. He probably never imagined his words would one-day reach out across the years to so many people. He would probably be surprised. Rather than flustered or embarrassed to have his innermost thoughts laid bare, I like to think he would ultimately see how his own life matters today, and always.
Ms. Lassen has helped John Pardington speak after all these years and still we hear him. And will hear him.
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But, this book can stand on its own as a superlative example of brilliant exposition, using Newman's usually elegant style, and enjoying a journey that seems unlikely from its impetus. The first chapter is particularly difficult, but after that, the reading is engaging and remarkable.
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Pounce, gentle reader.
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