A DEFENCE OF POETRY (SHELLEY)

Poetry, in a general sense, may be defined to be "the expression of the imagination": and poetry is connate with the origin of man.  Man is an instrument over which a series of external and internal impressions are driven, like the alternations of an ever-changing wind over an Aeolian lyre, which move it by their motion to ever-changing melody.  But there is a principle within the human being, and perhaps within all sentient beings, which acts otherwise than in the lyre, and produces not melody, alone, but harmony, by an internal adjustment of the sounds or motions thus excited to the impressions which excite them.  It is as if the lyre could accommodate its chords to the motions of that which strikes them, in a determined proportion of sound;  even as the musician can accommodate his voice to the sound of the lyre.


Percy Bysshe Shelley, Excerpt from “A Defence of Poetry,” written 1821, published 1840.

Greek Modes On A 15-String Lyre (Link)

Upper image:  Brygos Painter, Rhyton in form of dog's head showing tortoiseshell lyre, 480-470 BC, Musée départemental d'archéologie Jérôme Carcopino, Aléria, Haute-Corse. 

Lower image: Fair copy of "A Defence of Poetry."
 

CHURL

chu΄rlish. (1) Rude; brutal; harsh; austere; sour; merciless; unkind; uncivil.

        A lion in love with a lass, desired her father’s consent.

        The answer was churlish enough, He’d never marry his daughter to a brute.  L’Estrange’s Fables.

                     (2)  Selfish; avaritious.

        This sullen churlish thief,

                      Had all his mind plac’d upon Mully’s beef.  King’s Mully of Mountown.

Note:  The “churlish” definition above is the one written by Doctor Samuel Johnson in his 1755 Dictionary of the English Language.  I happened upon it one day and inspired, followed the word’s history and etymology as far and deep as a longish internet work-break would allow me. It’s a fascinating journey and further proof of the “universe in a grain of sand” theory.  Like other fine words, which I need not mention, “churlish” and “churl” have fallen into disuse, but not for reasons of political correctness.  Perhaps they just seem too acutely unkind.  A few years ago, an old friend reminded me that once, at college, in the student snack-bar, I called a person who is now the New York Times Chief Drama Critic a churl, but I have no memory of this at all – the event or the person (to whom I would like to apologize if I did and possibly make it up to him with an invitation to drinks, dinner, and two seats on the aisle for something good, which he would need to provide, Broadway tickets being so ruinously expensive).

Amazing to find that Canada actually produced a major-label  recorded classic-era psychedelic rock band called The Churls.  Crystal Palace (below) isn’t bad – much better than Princess Mary Margaret, which is a little Spinal Tap in their early Status Quo period for me. The costuming is a remarkable reminder that there’s no business like show business.

The Churls: Crystal Palace (Link)