17. Wordsworth style

Wordsworth’s poetry is characterized by two cardinal features that he explicitly outlines in his preface to the Lyrical Ballads. There is, first and foremost, the use of what Wordsworth calls “the language really used by men.” Contemporaneous readers might beg to differ, as Wordsworth’s diction little resembles the guttural, uneducated jargon of farmers and country folk whom Wordsworth praises so highly. To properly understand what Wordsworth means—and the revolutionary nature of his work in comparison to the poetry of his time—one must consider the poetic conventions immediately prior to Romanticism; specifically, the classical and highly ornate poetry of eighteenth century poets such as Alexander Pope. Viewed in this light, Wordsworth’s verse uses relatively direct phrasings, uncomplicated syntax, and few allusions. From this perspective his work can be seen for what it was in its time: a refreshingly straight-forward style of poetry that harks back to much earlier English poetic style, but unlike, for instance, the poetry of Milton, still manages to remain musically pleasant and prosaically clear.

The second prominent feature of Wordsworth’s poetry is its preoccupation with emotion, and in particular what Wordsworth called “the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings from emotions recollected in tranquility.” This sort of recollection of emotions in a state of tranquility was, for Wordsworth, the very definition of poetry. For him the job of the poet was, in some way, to delve into the self in order to recall the powerful emotions of one’s life, and then to recast those emotions (including the events that inspired them, or the thoughts they engendered) into the language of poetry. This is the most noticeable aspect of Wordsworth’s poetry, resulting in both trite and sentimental verse and stunningly moving poetic meditations. A fine example of the latter is Wordsworth’s early sonnet, Composed Upon Westminster Bridge in which the narrator of the poem, a sentimental enthusiast of nature like Wordsworth, gazes out over the massive, industrial city of London and sees, of all things, arresting beauty there:

Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!

Wordsworth’s two most important works are his early volume written with Coleridge, the Lyrical Ballads, and his posthumous long poem, The Prelude. They are indicative of the two very distinct styles that characterize the young Wordsworth and the old Wordsworth. In the Lyrical Ballads, Wordsworth writes verses flush with emotional vibrancy and natural scenes; in The Prelude, a much older and disillusioned poet writes exhaustive and ponderous meditations on the nature of life and the poet’s connection to it, characterized by the late Wordsworth’s didactic, almost instructional style of writing. Though frequently difficult, this later verse became some of the most influential writings in the English-speaking world in the immediate aftermath of Wordsworth’s death. Tennyson, among other major Victorian poets, would cite Wordsworth and The Prelude in particular as a singular influence. The epic poem’s famous opening lines exemplify the late, stern style of Wordsworth:

OH there is blessing in this gentle breeze,
A visitant that while it fans my cheek
Doth seem half-conscious of the joy it brings
From the green fields, and from yon azure sky.
Whate’er its mission, the soft breeze can come
To none more grateful than to me; escaped
From the vast city, where I long had pined
A discontented sojourner: now free,
Free as a bird to settle where I will.
What dwelling shall receive me? in what vale
Shall be my harbour? underneath what grove
Shall I take up my home? and what clear stream
Shall with its murmur lull me into rest?
The earth is all before me. With a heart
Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty,
I look about; and should the chosen guide
Be nothing better than a wandering cloud,
I cannot miss my way. I breathe again!
http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/William_Wordsworth
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