Thank you for a very interesting video. To what extent do you think that in the Lake Poets' sheer distaste for Pope, dislike may have been wrongly equated by Hazlitt with envy? I kept on thinking of Byron's "Dedication" of Don Juan, of Lewis Carroll's wicked spoofs, especially "You are old, Father William", and of Browning's "Lost Leader" (though the latter was the horrified response to Wordsworth's "one-time-revolutionary-now-reactionary" change) - none of which, surely, could be said to have been motivated by envy. It isn't exactly unknown in the art world for one practitioner to despise another ("this barrel of pork and beer" - Berlioz on Handel; or Rossini on Wagner "marvellous moments and terrible quarters-of-an-hour"; books have been compiled of put-downs by composers on composers). Fortunately, we don't have to choose between opposing factions - we can and usually will have preferences which may change over time, but because I love a poet in one style, I don't have to dislike another.
Thank you! - I'm glad you found it interesting. I think Hazlitt is fascinating - especially his conflicted responses to the early Romantics (particularly Wordsworth and Coleridge), and influence on the younger Romantics (such as Keats - as mentioned in the video). The relationships between all the Romantic writers was filled with drama! Personal and intellectual.
Thanks for the insightful video. Literary envy is a strange puzzle. We are often told that the root of envy is actually one's own insecurities. But that raises the question whether envy cannot sometimes be helpful, especially to writers who can then focus on developing that skill which they have grown jealous of. Especially for novice writers I believe that it might be better to envy your writing role models rather than only having that starry-eyed reverence that we so often feel. I have experienced this myself while studying Jane Austen. One can then fall into the trap of inactivity, because "I can never reach that level of brilliance". With a healthy dose of envy, a young writer can be jolted into action to start developing their skills. Your discussion of bad imitation immediately made me think of Shakespeare. Most people who have never read Shakespeare have a preconceived notion of how his works might be, thanks to misrepresentation in popular media. When I first started reading his works, I was shocked to find that many of his plays were comedies and quite light-hearted. Most people think there are only dramatic deaths and long monologues. Consequently, they don't even bother trying to read his plays, missing out on a beautiful part of literature. As to exclusionism, I believe that more often than we realise we fall into this trap. Of course, it is part of the human experience to judge according to our own preconceptions, but developing that "chameleon-mindset" is crucial to being a more well rounded reader and writer. Great video as always, looking forward to the next one.
Many thanks for watching, Lizelle. I'm glad you found it interesting. I agree with you on all three points! Starry-eyed reverence can be cripplingly debilitating. John Keats seems to have felt this way about John Milton (author of 'Paradise Lost') in trying to compose 'Hyperion' and then 'The Fall of Hyperion' (from 1818). Its composition kept stalling, and Keats eventually abandoned the attempt to emulate Milton (or at least to emulate something Miltonic). In September 1819, Keats seems to have concluded that such an attempt would only lead to a deathly "false beauty" "from art" (here, I think, he implies 'artifice') as opposed to "the true voice of feeling": "I have but lately stood on my guard against Milton. Life to him would be death to me." (letter to George & Georgiana Keats, September 1819) "I have given up Hyperion - there were too many Miltonic inversions in it - Miltonic verse cannot be written but in an artful, or, rather, artist’s humour. I wish to give myself up to other sensations. English ought to be kept up. It may be interesting to you to pick out some lines from Hyperion, and put a mark × to the false beauty proceeding from art, and one to the true voice of feeling." (letter to John Hamilton Reynolds, 22 September 1819) Yes, absolutely, the bad imitation of terrible adaptations [especially if you encounter them early in your consumption of an author] can have a detrimental effect on one's appreciation for that author. (This very much applies to Austen too, I think). And "chameleon-mindset" is a great phrase, which I shall filch!
Thank you for an introduction to Mr. Hazlitt. Until now, all I knew of his writings is one sentence about how those who have been particularly skillful at performing a function in art are “sorely missed” after they have left us. Perhaps you can give me the exact quote and reference? The dialogue Mr. Hazlitt proposes between himself and Mr. Northcote had been going on for centuries before its publication and continues to this day. I think the critic’s job is to make you want to see or hear the work of art in question and see for yourself whether it works-succeeds-as a work of art. Unfortunately, art criticism has been forced into the function of telling people what they should or should not invest their time on. (After all, it’s ever so much quicker, easier (and cheaper) to read a review of, a commentary--or watch one on UA-cam--on, say, “Jane Eyre,” than it is to actually read it.) Thus, a critic is rather unfairly put in the position of determining a work’s popularity. I also think it is as difficult for most people to achieve the inclusionism that Mr. Hazlitt prescribes and Mr. Shelley aspires to, as it is for us to write as well as Shakespeare, sculpt as well as Michelangelo or compose as well as Mozart. Talk about envy!
Well, yes, virtually impossible! I'm afraid I can't locate the quotation of Hazlitt's. He doesn't seem to have used the exact phrase "sorely missed", and I can't recall reading him making this point myself (which is very much not to say he didn't!). If you are interested in reading more of Hazlitt, then his view on contemporary literary criticism (and its failings!) is rip-roaringly funny and tersely pointed. You can read his essay 'On Criticism', essay IV in vol.2 from Table-Talk (1822) in an online version here: www.gutenberg.org/files/3020/3020-h/3020-h.htm
@@DrOctaviaCox Thank you for your effort and the referral! I wonder if you know how enjoyable and enlightening your videos are? As verbal as I (obviously) am, I can't put into words. But you've got me reading the Brontë's again, which I swore back in High School I would never do!
oh my~ This was fun! It reminds me of the line in the School for Scandal about the delicacy of hint and the mellowness of sneer. I have to say, though, as a writer, that there is a lot of envy in writerly circles And incredulous odi (I love that phrase!. First time i heard it) and a lot of damning with faint praise. I tend to believe literary critics so i don't believe Hazlitt had any personal agenda against anyone but you never know. I do believe though in the whole incredulous odi mentality. What is important to one writer might not be important to another. And, often, instead of simply accepting that (for instance) there are good reasons why one writer might like the mechanism of poetry (so to speak) and another might be fixated on something else, some writers simply don't open their hearts to see or hear what the other considers important.
Ha! - fabulous quotations! And "Damn with faint praise" is one of Pope's own best-known, oft-repeated lines (about the literary criticism of his sometime friend, sometime foe Joseph Addison): Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike (Pope, 'Epistle to Dr Arbuthnot', ll.201-4) Your point about writers opening their hearts and minds to others rather reminds of the end of John Keats's poem 'Ode to Psyche' (1819), which closes with the idea of letting thoughts enter into and wash over one's brain: And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm Love in! (ll.64-7)
I think a modern critic might be more likely to ascribe the Lake School's distaste for Pope to something less malicious than envy. Today we might say that something akin to Harold Bloom's "Anxiety of Influence" is at play, where a writer attempting to find her voice at first admires and perhaps even imitates a favored writer, then as her own gifts and perceptions grow, finds ways in which she rejects her "mentor" in favor of her own choices. (I admittedly know little of the Lake School's literary criticism, so perhaps envy is a more appropriate analysis.)
Well, the Romantics certainly imitated Pope in their early writings. Take Samuel Taylor Coleridge's Popean mock-heroic poem 'Julia' (1789), which closes: ’Twere vain to tell, how Julia pin’d away: Unhappy Fair! that in one luckless day - From future Almanacks the day be crost! - At once her Lover and her Lap-dog lost. It reads like a rather pale imitation of Pope's 'The Rape of the Lock'. Bloom's 'The Anxiety of Influence' is, I think, rather akin to Northcote's view, and does promote the idea that all writers compete with all other 'great' previous writers. And indeed 'great' contemporary writers too. Bloom says, for instance, that "Shakespeare's creative envy of Marlowe" had "long [been] his driving force" (preface to second edition, OUP 1997, p.xliv). Bloom formulates writers' "creative envy" as hostile and antagonistic. Perhaps in rather too aggressive terms? Yes, indeed - perhaps, one might say if one were being more sympathetic, more like an apprentice learning their skills from a 'master', and then developing away from them once trained?
@@DrOctaviaCox I can't speak for Bloom. Perhaps his idea of "creative envy" is more spiteful than I remember it. From what little I know of the creative process, I think the master-apprentice model you suggest is more apt.
The whole concept of “the exclusion of taste” is fascinating. As someone who loves genre fiction, it’s both gratifying and depressing to find out that pretentious dude bros writing off anything except their ideas of what counts as quality writing is such an old issue
I completely know what you mean about finding similarities from the past that resonate with today both gratifying and depressing. Gratifying, I think, because it shows that one is not alone (and even aligns you with people you admire), but depressing because it just makes it feel like change doesn't happen!
22:54 My apologies for not addressing the main subject of the video, but did Hazlitt really write "depreciation" rather than "deprecation"? Has 150 years of pedantic insistence that the two words are completely separate in meaning been misguided? :)
Yes: "All this is mere depreciation and petty spite" (‘The Exclusionists in Taste’, in The Atlas, 26 July 1829). According to Hazlitt, exclusionists in taste run down the value of other writers for their own "egotism and conceit".
I have listened to this great video again in hopes of resolving the discussion yesterday in our JASNA Dayton Reading Group discussion of Emma. When Mrs. Elton arrives on the Highbury scene, who is "highest ranking" women, the now married wife of a clergyman or the unmarried daughter of the established ranking gentleman? That is, does Emma's blood outrank the status of the (you called it lower gentry) clergy/gentry, but married Mrs. Elton? Who really can claim Queen Bee status? Mrs. Elton opens the ball. Is it because she forces herself on the Westons to give this to her? If there was a second ball where Mrs. Elton was no longer a new bride, would Emma open that ball, or is Mrs. Elton really the top female?
Hazlitt's ideas are interesting, but I found his prose very difficult to slog through to get to those ideas. I'm inclined to think many critics have this problem. Dr. Johnson and Samuel Coleridge's critical works, for example, are sure cures for any insomnia I may have. I think most of us have some narrowness of vision that keeps us from enjoying certain things, but we usually call it personal taste. No one likes everything. (BTW, I liked your other hairstyle better. This makes you look older.)
I don't think that there is a problem with excluding certain things or from literature per se, e.g., political propaganda or an advertisement. The potential problem with Wordswarth is in not being objective and not making a distinction between personal preference and universal aesthetic standards. I also do not agree with the idea that an artist has to be a nothing in order to describe everything. This is again an incorrect view of objectivity. Having preferences does not make it necessarily impossible to recognise facts. All that is really needed is the willingness to introspect and judge what brings one to one's conclusions. Whether they are grounded in facts or not. And that can be done even when experiencing strong emotions (or at least a short while afterwards.) And by the way, I may add that there is a distinctiveness to Shakespeare's plays, that show a distinct worldview of the author (a certain pessimistic determinism) and a distinctive craft.
Anyone trying to mimic Alexander Pope should just thrown in the towel - there's only one Pope. But it would be a sad world if a reader could not enjoy other poets as well - after all, variety is the spice of life.
Do you agree with William Hazlitt about the effects of literary envy, imitation, and exclusionism in taste?
Thank you for a very interesting video.
To what extent do you think that in the Lake Poets' sheer distaste for Pope, dislike may have been wrongly equated by Hazlitt with envy? I kept on thinking of Byron's "Dedication" of Don Juan, of Lewis Carroll's wicked spoofs, especially "You are old, Father William", and of Browning's "Lost Leader" (though the latter was the horrified response to Wordsworth's "one-time-revolutionary-now-reactionary" change) - none of which, surely, could be said to have been motivated by envy.
It isn't exactly unknown in the art world for one practitioner to despise another ("this barrel of pork and beer" - Berlioz on Handel; or Rossini on Wagner "marvellous moments and terrible quarters-of-an-hour"; books have been compiled of put-downs by composers on composers).
Fortunately, we don't have to choose between opposing factions - we can and usually will have preferences which may change over time, but because I love a poet in one style, I don't have to dislike another.
This About the gottum
What a privilege to be able to listen to your presentations. Thank you so very much.
Hazlitt , Coleridge ,Mary Shelley....and so many others.
What giants of intellect Britain produced in that era !
This is how they did "drama" before UA-cam! A very interesting topic, I had no idea what was going on "behind" the scenes.
Thank you! - I'm glad you found it interesting. I think Hazlitt is fascinating - especially his conflicted responses to the early Romantics (particularly Wordsworth and Coleridge), and influence on the younger Romantics (such as Keats - as mentioned in the video). The relationships between all the Romantic writers was filled with drama! Personal and intellectual.
Thanks for the insightful video.
Literary envy is a strange puzzle. We are often told that the root of envy is actually one's own insecurities. But that raises the question whether envy cannot sometimes be helpful, especially to writers who can then focus on developing that skill which they have grown jealous of. Especially for novice writers I believe that it might be better to envy your writing role models rather than only having that starry-eyed reverence that we so often feel. I have experienced this myself while studying Jane Austen. One can then fall into the trap of inactivity, because "I can never reach that level of brilliance". With a healthy dose of envy, a young writer can be jolted into action to start developing their skills.
Your discussion of bad imitation immediately made me think of Shakespeare. Most people who have never read Shakespeare have a preconceived notion of how his works might be, thanks to misrepresentation in popular media. When I first started reading his works, I was shocked to find that many of his plays were comedies and quite light-hearted. Most people think there are only dramatic deaths and long monologues. Consequently, they don't even bother trying to read his plays, missing out on a beautiful part of literature.
As to exclusionism, I believe that more often than we realise we fall into this trap. Of course, it is part of the human experience to judge according to our own preconceptions, but developing that "chameleon-mindset" is crucial to being a more well rounded reader and writer.
Great video as always, looking forward to the next one.
Many thanks for watching, Lizelle. I'm glad you found it interesting.
I agree with you on all three points!
Starry-eyed reverence can be cripplingly debilitating. John Keats seems to have felt this way about John Milton (author of 'Paradise Lost') in trying to compose 'Hyperion' and then 'The Fall of Hyperion' (from 1818). Its composition kept stalling, and Keats eventually abandoned the attempt to emulate Milton (or at least to emulate something Miltonic). In September 1819, Keats seems to have concluded that such an attempt would only lead to a deathly "false beauty" "from art" (here, I think, he implies 'artifice') as opposed to "the true voice of feeling":
"I have but lately stood on my guard against Milton. Life to him would be death to me."
(letter to George & Georgiana Keats, September 1819)
"I have given up Hyperion - there were too many Miltonic inversions in it - Miltonic verse cannot be written but in an artful, or, rather, artist’s humour. I wish to give myself up to other sensations. English ought to be kept up. It may be interesting to you to pick out some lines from Hyperion, and put a mark × to the false beauty proceeding from art, and one to the true voice of feeling."
(letter to John Hamilton Reynolds, 22 September 1819)
Yes, absolutely, the bad imitation of terrible adaptations [especially if you encounter them early in your consumption of an author] can have a detrimental effect on one's appreciation for that author. (This very much applies to Austen too, I think).
And "chameleon-mindset" is a great phrase, which I shall filch!
Thank you for this lecture. William Hazlitt is one of my favorite writers!
You're very welcome!
Thank you for an introduction to Mr. Hazlitt. Until now, all I knew of his writings is one sentence about how those who have been particularly skillful at performing a function in art are “sorely missed” after they have left us. Perhaps you can give me the exact quote and reference? The dialogue Mr. Hazlitt proposes between himself and Mr. Northcote had been going on for centuries before its publication and continues to this day. I think the critic’s job is to make you want to see or hear the work of art in question and see for yourself whether it works-succeeds-as a work of art. Unfortunately, art criticism has been forced into the function of telling people what they should or should not invest their time on. (After all, it’s ever so much quicker, easier (and cheaper) to read a review of, a commentary--or watch one on UA-cam--on, say, “Jane Eyre,” than it is to actually read it.) Thus, a critic is rather unfairly put in the position of determining a work’s popularity. I also think it is as difficult for most people to achieve the inclusionism that Mr. Hazlitt prescribes and Mr. Shelley aspires to, as it is for us to write as well as Shakespeare, sculpt as well as Michelangelo or compose as well as Mozart. Talk about envy!
Well, yes, virtually impossible!
I'm afraid I can't locate the quotation of Hazlitt's. He doesn't seem to have used the exact phrase "sorely missed", and I can't recall reading him making this point myself (which is very much not to say he didn't!). If you are interested in reading more of Hazlitt, then his view on contemporary literary criticism (and its failings!) is rip-roaringly funny and tersely pointed. You can read his essay 'On Criticism', essay IV in vol.2 from Table-Talk (1822) in an online version here: www.gutenberg.org/files/3020/3020-h/3020-h.htm
@@DrOctaviaCox Thank you for your effort and the referral! I wonder if you know how enjoyable and enlightening your videos are? As verbal as I (obviously) am, I can't put into words. But you've got me reading the Brontë's again, which I swore back in High School I would never do!
oh my~ This was fun! It reminds me of the line in the School for Scandal about the delicacy of hint and the mellowness of sneer. I have to say, though, as a writer, that there is a lot of envy in writerly circles And incredulous odi (I love that phrase!. First time i heard it) and a lot of damning with faint praise. I tend to believe literary critics so i don't believe Hazlitt had any personal agenda against anyone but you never know. I do believe though in the whole incredulous odi mentality. What is important to one writer might not be important to another. And, often, instead of simply accepting that (for instance) there are good reasons why one writer might like the mechanism of poetry (so to speak) and another might be fixated on something else, some writers simply don't open their hearts to see or hear what the other considers important.
Ha! - fabulous quotations! And "Damn with faint praise" is one of Pope's own best-known, oft-repeated lines (about the literary criticism of his sometime friend, sometime foe Joseph Addison):
Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,
And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer;
Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike,
Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike
(Pope, 'Epistle to Dr Arbuthnot', ll.201-4)
Your point about writers opening their hearts and minds to others rather reminds of the end of John Keats's poem 'Ode to Psyche' (1819), which closes with the idea of letting thoughts enter into and wash over one's brain:
And there shall be for thee all soft delight
That shadowy thought can win,
A bright torch, and a casement ope at night,
To let the warm Love in!
(ll.64-7)
Always informative and your voice is so soothing.
I think a modern critic might be more likely to ascribe the Lake School's distaste for Pope to something less malicious than envy. Today we might say that something akin to Harold Bloom's "Anxiety of Influence" is at play, where a writer attempting to find her voice at first admires and perhaps even imitates a favored writer, then as her own gifts and perceptions grow, finds ways in which she rejects her "mentor" in favor of her own choices. (I admittedly know little of the Lake School's literary criticism, so perhaps envy is a more appropriate analysis.)
Well, the Romantics certainly imitated Pope in their early writings. Take Samuel Taylor Coleridge's Popean mock-heroic poem 'Julia' (1789), which closes:
’Twere vain to tell, how Julia pin’d away:
Unhappy Fair! that in one luckless day -
From future Almanacks the day be crost! -
At once her Lover and her Lap-dog lost.
It reads like a rather pale imitation of Pope's 'The Rape of the Lock'.
Bloom's 'The Anxiety of Influence' is, I think, rather akin to Northcote's view, and does promote the idea that all writers compete with all other 'great' previous writers. And indeed 'great' contemporary writers too. Bloom says, for instance, that "Shakespeare's creative envy of Marlowe" had "long [been] his driving force" (preface to second edition, OUP 1997, p.xliv). Bloom formulates writers' "creative envy" as hostile and antagonistic. Perhaps in rather too aggressive terms?
Yes, indeed - perhaps, one might say if one were being more sympathetic, more like an apprentice learning their skills from a 'master', and then developing away from them once trained?
@@DrOctaviaCox I can't speak for Bloom. Perhaps his idea of "creative envy" is more spiteful than I remember it. From what little I know of the creative process, I think the master-apprentice model you suggest is more apt.
The whole concept of “the exclusion of taste” is fascinating. As someone who loves genre fiction, it’s both gratifying and depressing to find out that pretentious dude bros writing off anything except their ideas of what counts as quality writing is such an old issue
I completely know what you mean about finding similarities from the past that resonate with today both gratifying and depressing. Gratifying, I think, because it shows that one is not alone (and even aligns you with people you admire), but depressing because it just makes it feel like change doesn't happen!
I always learn so much!!
22:54 My apologies for not addressing the main subject of the video, but did Hazlitt really write "depreciation" rather than "deprecation"? Has 150 years of pedantic insistence that the two words are completely separate in meaning been misguided? :)
Yes: "All this is mere depreciation and petty spite" (‘The Exclusionists in Taste’, in The Atlas, 26 July 1829). According to Hazlitt, exclusionists in taste run down the value of other writers for their own "egotism and conceit".
I have listened to this great video again in hopes of resolving the discussion yesterday in our JASNA Dayton Reading Group discussion of Emma. When Mrs. Elton arrives on the Highbury scene, who is "highest ranking" women, the now married wife of a clergyman or the unmarried daughter of the established ranking gentleman? That is, does Emma's blood outrank the status of the (you called it lower gentry) clergy/gentry, but married Mrs. Elton? Who really can claim Queen Bee status? Mrs. Elton opens the ball. Is it because she forces herself on the Westons to give this to her? If there was a second ball where Mrs. Elton was no longer a new bride, would Emma open that ball, or is Mrs. Elton really the top female?
Hazlitt's ideas are interesting, but I found his prose very difficult to slog through to get to those ideas. I'm inclined to think many critics have this problem. Dr. Johnson and Samuel Coleridge's critical works, for example, are sure cures for any insomnia I may have. I think most of us have some narrowness of vision that keeps us from enjoying certain things, but we usually call it personal taste. No one likes everything. (BTW, I liked your other hairstyle better. This makes you look older.)
I don't think that there is a problem with excluding certain things or from literature per se, e.g., political propaganda or an advertisement. The potential problem with Wordswarth is in not being objective and not making a distinction between personal preference and universal aesthetic standards. I also do not agree with the idea that an artist has to be a nothing in order to describe everything. This is again an incorrect view of objectivity. Having preferences does not make it necessarily impossible to recognise facts. All that is really needed is the willingness to introspect and judge what brings one to one's conclusions. Whether they are grounded in facts or not. And that can be done even when experiencing strong emotions (or at least a short while afterwards.) And by the way, I may add that there is a distinctiveness to Shakespeare's plays, that show a distinct worldview of the author (a certain pessimistic determinism) and a distinctive craft.
Anyone trying to mimic Alexander Pope should just thrown in the towel - there's only one Pope. But it would be a sad world if a reader could not enjoy other poets as well - after all, variety is the spice of life.
Some things never change. Even today snobs dump on what's popular to feel superior.