January122013

“The Tune of Seven Towers” from “Pre-Raphaelite Ballads” by William Morris, illust. H.M. O’Kane
(Click for the complete book, via archive.org) 

October52012
September52012
“Circe” by Louis Chalon, c. 1888
When Ulysses, after the fall of Troy, as the “Odyssey” relates it, went voyaging in search of adventures, he landed at the island of Aeaea, to the westward of Sicily, which was ruled over by the fairhaired and beautiful sorceress Circe, the daughter of the Sun. Around her wonderful palace, where she sat enthroned on a golden throne, in a pond of lotus and lilies, roved herds of beasts, wolves, lions, tigers, oxen, and the like, which had once been human beings and whom she had transformed by her spells. The companions of Ulysses, feasting and drinking her drugged wine while guests at her palace, were converted by her incantations into swine, but the hero himself, forewarned by Mercury and provided by him with a supply of mystic herb called moly, was proof against her sorcerey. His invulnerability, courage, and manly beauty captivated the lovely witch, and for a year he remained her guest, when, having induced her, out of her love for him, to disenchant his companions, he resumed his voyage. Louis Chalon, the painter, is a native of Paris, and a pupil of Jules Lefebvre and G. Boulanger.(source) 

“Circe” by Louis Chalon, c. 1888

When Ulysses, after the fall of Troy, as the “Odyssey” relates it, went voyaging in search of adventures, he landed at the island of Aeaea, to the westward of Sicily, which was ruled over by the fairhaired and beautiful sorceress Circe, the daughter of the Sun. Around her wonderful palace, where she sat enthroned on a golden throne, in a pond of lotus and lilies, roved herds of beasts, wolves, lions, tigers, oxen, and the like, which had once been human beings and whom she had transformed by her spells. The companions of Ulysses, feasting and drinking her drugged wine while guests at her palace, were converted by her incantations into swine, but the hero himself, forewarned by Mercury and provided by him with a supply of mystic herb called moly, was proof against her sorcerey. His invulnerability, courage, and manly beauty captivated the lovely witch, and for a year he remained her guest, when, having induced her, out of her love for him, to disenchant his companions, he resumed his voyage. Louis Chalon, the painter, is a native of Paris, and a pupil of Jules Lefebvre and G. Boulanger.
(source

August212012
August102012
Apollo and Daphne by Gian Lorenzo Bernini, c. 1622-‘25
‘[Apollo] would have saidMuch more than this, but Daphne, frightened, left himWith many words unsaid, and she was lovelyEven in flight, her limbs bare in the wind,Her garments fluttering, ad her soft hair streaming,More beautiful than ever. But Apollo,Too young a god to waste his time in coaxing,Came following fast. When a hound starts a rabbitIn an open field, one runs for game, one safety. He has her, or thinks he has, and she is doubtfulWhether she’s caught or not, so close the margin,So ran the god and girl one swift in hope,The other in terror, but he ran more swiftly,borne not the wings of love, gave her no rest,Shadowed her shoulder, breathed on her streaming hair.Her strength was gone, worn out by the long effortOf the long flight; she was deathly pale, and seeing The river of her father, cried “O help me,If there is any power in the rivers,Change and destroy the body which has givenToo much delight!” And hardly had she finished,When her limbs grew numb and heavy, her soft breastsWere closed with delicate bark, her hair was leaves,Her arms were branches, and her speedy feet Rooted and held, and her head became a tree top,Everything gone except her grace, her shining.Apollo loved her still. He placed his handWhere he had hoped and felt the heart still beatingUnder the bark; and he embraced the branchesAs if they still were limbs, and kissed the wood,And the wood shrank from his kisses, and the godExclaimed: “Since you can never be my bride,My tree at least you shall be! Let the laurelAdorn, henceforth, my hair, my lyre, my quiver;Let Roman victors, in the long procession,Wear laurel wreaths for triumph and ovation.Beside Augustus’ portals let the laurelGuard and watch over the oak, and as my headIs always youthful, let the laurel alwaysBe green and shining!” He said no more. The laurel,Stirring, seemed to consent, to be saying “Yes.”’
-from Ovid’s Metamorphoses, trans. Rolfe Humphries

Apollo and Daphne by Gian Lorenzo Bernini, c. 1622-‘25

[Apollo] would have said
Much more than this, but Daphne, frightened, left him
With many words unsaid, and she was lovely
Even in flight, her limbs bare in the wind,
Her garments fluttering, ad her soft hair streaming,
More beautiful than ever. But Apollo,
Too young a god to waste his time in coaxing,
Came following fast. When a hound starts a rabbit
In an open field, one runs for game, one safety. 
He has her, or thinks he has, and she is doubtful
Whether she’s caught or not, so close the margin,
So ran the god and girl one swift in hope,
The other in terror, but he ran more swiftly,
borne not the wings of love, gave her no rest,
Shadowed her shoulder, breathed on her streaming hair.
Her strength was gone, worn out by the long effort
Of the long flight; she was deathly pale, and seeing 
The river of her father, cried “O help me,
If there is any power in the rivers,
Change and destroy the body which has given
Too much delight!” And hardly had she finished,
When her limbs grew numb and heavy, her soft breasts
Were closed with delicate bark, her hair was leaves,
Her arms were branches, and her speedy feet 
Rooted and held, and her head became a tree top,
Everything gone except her grace, her shining.
Apollo loved her still. He placed his hand
Where he had hoped and felt the heart still beating
Under the bark; and he embraced the branches
As if they still were limbs, and kissed the wood,
And the wood shrank from his kisses, and the god
Exclaimed: “Since you can never be my bride,
My tree at least you shall be! Let the laurel
Adorn, henceforth, my hair, my lyre, my quiver;
Let Roman victors, in the long procession,
Wear laurel wreaths for triumph and ovation.
Beside Augustus’ portals let the laurel
Guard and watch over the oak, and as my head
Is always youthful, let the laurel always
Be green and shining!” He said no more. The laurel,
Stirring, seemed to consent, to be saying “Yes.”’

-from Ovid’s Metamorphoses, trans. Rolfe Humphries

June242012

The “Perseus Cycle” by Edward Burne-Jones, c. 1875-1890

1. The Call of Perseus
2. Perseus and the Graiae
3. The Arming of Perseus (Perseus and the Nereids)
4. The Finding of Medusa
5. The Death of Medusa
6. The Birth of Pegasus and Chrysaor
7. The Rock of Doom
8. The Doom Fulfilled
9. The Baleful Head
10. Atlas Turned to Stone 

These paintings are based on “The Doom of King Acrisius” (full text) by William Morris.

June202012

Hogarth’s unfinished oil sketch is an illustration to John Milton’s epic poem, ‘Paradise Lost’. Satan, on the left, confronts Death who bars his way from hell to earth. Between them is Sin, shown as a naked woman. She reveals to Satan that she is his daughter, and that Death is their incestuous child. This is one of the earliest paintings devoted to a subject from Milton and predates Burke’s seminal Enquiry into … the sublime and the beautiful, 1757, in which this passage from Milton and the description of Death are singled out as an absolute example of the Sublime.
(Sources: 1, 2)

Hogarth’s unfinished oil sketch is an illustration to John Milton’s epic poem, ‘Paradise Lost’. Satan, on the left, confronts Death who bars his way from hell to earth. Between them is Sin, shown as a naked woman. She reveals to Satan that she is his daughter, and that Death is their incestuous child. This is one of the earliest paintings devoted to a subject from Milton and predates Burke’s seminal Enquiry into … the sublime and the beautiful, 1757, in which this passage from Milton and the description of Death are singled out as an absolute example of the Sublime.

(Sources: 1, 2)

1PM

William Blake’s “The Divine Image” (1789) and “A Divine Image” (1794)

I think the former poem in particular is exceptionally beautiful

June112012

WIFE of BATH
A film by Joanna Quinn
from Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales”.

May222012

hannahlmr:

Lewis Carroll, “The Mouse’s Tale” from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland


In Martin Gardner’s Annotated Alice, he mentioned that the original version of the tale might be “a more appropriate one, for it fulfills the mouse’s promise to explain why he dislikes cats and dogs” (p. 50-51) (top image). He suggested that Carroll got the idea for this figurative poem from Tennyson (p. 50):

Tennyson once told Carroll that he had dreamed a lengthy poem about fairies, which began with very long lines, then the lines got shorter and shorter until the poem ended with fifty or sixty lines of two syllables each. (Tennyson thought highly of the poem in his sleep, but forgot it completely when he awoke.)

(via hannahlmr-deactivated20120706)

May112012
by Edward Robert Hughes, c. 1895.

“Oh where are you going with your love-locks flowing

   On the west wind blowing along this valley track?”   

“The downhill path is easy, come with me an it please ye,

   We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.”

So they two went together in glowing August weather,   

   The honey-breathing heather lay to their left and right;

And dear she was to dote on, her swift feet seemed to float on   

   The air like soft twin pigeons too sportive to alight.

“Oh what is that in heaven where gray cloud-flakes are seven,   

   Where blackest clouds hang riven just at the rainy skirt?”   

“Oh that’s a meteor sent us, a message dumb, portentous,   

   An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt.”

“Oh what is that glides quickly where velvet flowers grow thickly,   

   Their scent comes rich and sickly?”—“A scaled and hooded worm.”

“Oh what’s that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow?”   

   “Oh that’s a thin dead body which waits the eternal term.”

“Turn again, O my sweetest,—turn again, false and fleetest:   

   This beaten way thou beatest I fear is hell’s own track.”

“Nay, too steep for hill-mounting; nay, too late for cost-counting:

   This downhill path is easy, but there’s no turning back.”



- “Amor Mundi” by Christina Rossetti

by Edward Robert Hughes, c. 1895.

“Oh where are you going with your love-locks flowing
   On the west wind blowing along this valley track?”   
“The downhill path is easy, come with me an it please ye,
   We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.”
So they two went together in glowing August weather,   
   The honey-breathing heather lay to their left and right;
And dear she was to dote on, her swift feet seemed to float on   
   The air like soft twin pigeons too sportive to alight.
“Oh what is that in heaven where gray cloud-flakes are seven,   
   Where blackest clouds hang riven just at the rainy skirt?”   
“Oh that’s a meteor sent us, a message dumb, portentous,   
   An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt.”
“Oh what is that glides quickly where velvet flowers grow thickly,   
   Their scent comes rich and sickly?”—“A scaled and hooded worm.”
“Oh what’s that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow?”   
   “Oh that’s a thin dead body which waits the eternal term.”
“Turn again, O my sweetest,—turn again, false and fleetest:   
   This beaten way thou beatest I fear is hell’s own track.”
“Nay, too steep for hill-mounting; nay, too late for cost-counting:
   This downhill path is easy, but there’s no turning back.”
- “Amor Mundi” by Christina Rossetti
April232012
March202012

Hauntingly beautiful and masterfully executed stop-motion adaptation of “The Pied Piper of Hamelin” from the PBS show “Long Ago and Far Away” (1989-1993). For more info on this story and its historical origins see my previous post.

Part 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ndaqgKUpQf0&feature=related

Part 3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eFuj1VroQWM&feature=related

1PM
March192012
← Older entries Page 1 of 2