Selected Poems

Wordsworth seems, some two hundred fifty years after his birth, to resonate poorly with contemporary readers. The Penguin edition of his works contains only a sliver of his output and even this is scarcely read. The corresponding lacuna in Western literature is unfortunate because Wordsworth still has a lot to say to the twenty-first century reader. Any well read person can see upon reading Wordsworth that he achieved a revolution in poetry that can only be likened to the contemporaneous revolution in France. The metaphysical poets, Pope and Milton appear as archaic as Homer after reading him. It’s as if poetry had been ambling along for centuries until Wordsworth caromed it to the contemplation of nature and its corresponding benefits to man. Nature is not only mother she is teacher, guide, muse and rejuvenating elixir. Correctly seen, she causes one heart to open to one’s fellow man. So while Wordsworth’s sestercentennial may have been largely forgotten, it’s worth getting an edition of the poetry he claimed to be an elixir itself: By invoking and reflecting on the beauty of the natural world we are brought to our must fundamental virtue—the love of neighbor, particularly those who are distressed. No wonder that as Wordsworth ceased to publish Dickens picked up his pen. Highly recommended.

One of the better publications and best sized for easy carry to my fave coffee shop.

When writing a review for a classic I am never quite sure what is expected. Do people really want my opinion of Wordsworth as a poet in the same way they'd ask my opinion of the latest Harry Potter movie? There are countless critics much better qualified to pass that kind of judgement so I'll keep mainly to the specifics of this edition. As all the titles in the Penguin Classics series this one is very serviceable. It contains a generous selection of Wordsworth's poems as well as a goodish part of the 'Prelude'. 'The Excursion' on the other hand is not included at all, because Stephen Gill, the editor, didn't think its style lent itself to excerpts as in the 'Prelude'. The introduction is fine but a bit on the short side in my opinion. My main criticism is a general one directed against the workmanship involved in the production of all the 'Penguin Classics' titles. For $18 they feel quite cheaply made, the binding doesn't hold up well and the paper looks new the ugly yellow some paperbacks from the 1960 have acquired over time. Other publisher's manage to present the content more respectfully so why can't Penguin? Wordsworth definitely deserves it. The poems have a serene quality to them with a nice flow and none of the overwroughtness one finds in certain other romantic poets. That being said in larger doses I find the effect is a bit escapist as I distrust art that is too soothing.

As any fan of poetry will admit, Wordsworth is perhaps the central figure of poetry of the last two hundred years-- only Whitman contends with him in eminence. I love both (though I am partial to Keats!), and the fame of each is very just and in proportion with their merits. Wordsworth is a musical poet, in that his verse flows with a beauty of language that has no rival I have yet encountered save perhaps Yeats or Shakespeare. Even the latter two, though better poets than Wordsworth overall in my opinion, fall slightly short of his music. I find many of his poems very easy to commit to memory, because of this quality: She dwelt among th'untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove. A maid whom there were none the praise And very few to love. A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye-- Fair, as a star when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and Oh! The difference to me. That is from memory, and I memorized it almost effortlessly; I suspect most can do the same because this poem (one of Wordsworth's "Lucy Poems", some of the best in all literature!) has a certain rhythm and flow to it that makes it as easily committed to memory as song lyrics. There is in Wordsworth's poems a wonderful depth of thought, as well; common themes include lost youth, nature, and the poet's own mind (Wordsworth was notoriously egotistical). I find him a sadder poet than others do-- many read him as almost superficial or happy and joyous in nature, but I think this is too simplistic, as his poems resonate with a certain loss and regretful inwardness that really reverberates in my mind. He is commonly considered the greatest of the Romantics, a consensus with which I disagree. I prefer Keats and Blake (Coleridge might have been as good, had he written more!), but Wordsworth has been more of an influence on later poets than either, and I certainly do not shy from calling him among the greatest.