"I have dreamed nightly of your face and walked the streets of my daily life with the rhythms of your writing singing in my silent brain. I have called you my Muse, and so you are, or might be, a messenger from some urgent place of the spirit where essential poetry sings and sings. I could call you, with even greater truth -- my Love -- there, it is said -- for I most certainly love you and in all ways possible to man and most fiercely. It is a love for which there is no place in this world -- a love my diminished reason tells me can and will do neither of us any good, a love I tried to hide cunningly from, to protect you from, with all the ingenuity at my command. (Except complete silence, you will rightly say, which was out of my power.) ...

"... What do I ask? you will enquire in your precise and yet mocking way -- cutting down my protestations to precise proposals. I do not know -- how can I know? I only cast myself upon your mercy, not to be cut off, not scanted with a single famished kiss, not yet, not now. Can we not find a small space, for a limited time -- in which to marvel that we have found each other?"

* * *

Been rereading A.S. Byatt's Possession. It echoes the male passions for exploration, science, and art, (as one might read in the work of Coleridge or Wordsworth) and the female anxieties voiced through myths, folk tales and cautionary bedtime stories. Everything's held together by a belt tightened by the cutbacks on academic funding in Thatcher's Britain and contrasted with a better-funded American academe bent on fetishizing and mummifying dead poets. The book speaks in many voices: narrative, diary, letters, poems, all modes following different characters; it boggles the mind how Byatt managed to hold it all in her head, and even moreso to set it all down on paper.

Oh, to write something with a fraction of this brilliance.

"'But Mr. Knightley does not want to marry. I am sure he has not the least idea of it. Do not put it into his head. Why should he marry? He is as happy as possible by himself; with his farm, and his sheep, and his library, and all the parish to manage; and he is extremely fond of his brother's children. He has no occasion to marry, either to fill up his time or his heart.'"

* * *

Jane Austen + Blackadder = Naughty Thoughts

Must read someone else now.

If you've ever befriended someone to get closer to someone else, or were the object of such machinations, this one's for you:

"'Good heaven!' cried Mr. Elton, 'what can be the meaning of this? Miss Smith? I have never thought of Miss Smith in the whole course of my existence; never paid her any attentions, but as your friend; never cared whether she were dead or alive, but as your friend. If she has fancied otherwise, her own wishes have misled her, and I am very sorry, extremely sorry. But, Miss Smith, indeed! Oh, Miss Woodhouse, who can think of Miss Smith when Miss Woodhouse is near?'"

* * *

This is what happens when one embarks on rereading Emma. *sigh*

Dealing with Unruly Children

1817: "Another minute brought another addition. The younger boy, a remarkably stout, forward child, of two years old, having got the door opened for him by some one without, made his determined appearance before them, and went straight to the sofa to see what was going on, and put in his claim to anything good that might be giving away.

"There being nothing to be eat, he could only have some play; and as his aunt would not let him tease his sick brother, he began to fasten himself upon her, as she knelt, in such a way that, busy as she was about Charles, she could not shake him off. She spoke to him, ordered, intreated, and insisted in vain. Once did she contrive to push him away, but the boy had the greater pleasure in getting upon her back again directly....

"In another moment, however, she found herself in the state of being released from him; some one was taking him from her, though he had bent down her head so much, that his sturdy little hands were unfastened from around her neck, and he was resolutely borne away, before she knew that Captain Wentworth had done it."

1999: "Before I'd got up again someone started smacking my bottom.

"I turned round--thinking, I confess, maybe Mark Darcy!--to see Woney's son William and his friend, giggling evilly.

"'Do it again,' said William and his small friend started smacking again. Tried to get up but William--who's about six and big for his age--launched himself on to my back and wrested his arms around my neck.

"'Stoppit, William,' I said with an attempt at authority but at that moment there was a commotion at the other side of the garden...William was still clinging tight to my back and the boy was still smacking my bottom and shrieking with Exorcist-style laughter. I tried to get William off, but he was surprisingly strong and clung on. My back was really hurting.

"Then suddenly William's arms were released from round my neck. I felt him being lifted away and then the smacking stopped. For a moment I just hung my head, trying to get my breath back and recover my composure. Then I turned to see Mark Darcy walking away with a writhing six-year-old under each arm."

Dealing with Headstrong Young Women

1817: "There was too much wind to make the high part of the new Cobb pleasant for the ladies, and they agreed to get down the steps to the lower, and all were contented to pass quietly and carefully down the steep flight, excepting Louisa; she must be jumped down them by Captain Wentworth. In all their walks he had had to jump her from the stiles; the sensation was delightful to her. The hardness of the pavement for her feet made him less willing upon the present occasion; he did it, however. She was safely down, and instantly, to show her enjoyment, ran up the steps to be jumped down again. He advised her against it, thought the jar too great; but no, he reasoned and talked in vain, she smiled and said, 'I am determined I will:" he put out his hands; she was too precipitate by half a second, she fell on the pavement on the Lower Cobb, and was taken up lifeless! There was no wound, no blood, no visible bruise; but her eyes were closed, she breathed not, her face was like death. The horror of that moment to all who stood around!

"Captain Wentworth, who had caught her up, knelt with her in his arms, looking on her with a face as pallid as her own in an agony of silence. 'She is dead! She is dead!' screamed Mary, catching hold of her husband, and contributing with his own horror to make him immovable; and in another moment, Henrietta, sinking under the conviction, lost her senses too, and would have fallen on the steps but for Captain Benwick and Anne, who caught and supported her between them.

"'Is there no one to help me?' were the first words which burst from Captain Wentworth, in a tone of despair, as if all his own strength were gone.

"'Go to him, go to him,' cried Anne, 'for heaven's sake, go to him. I can support her myself. Leave me, and go to him. Rub her hands, rub her temples; here are salts: take them, take them.'

"Captain Benwick obeyed, and Charles at the same moment disengaging himself from his wife, they were both with him; and Louisa was raised up and supported more firmly between them, and everything was done that Anne had prompted, but in vain; while Captain Wentworth, staggering against the wall for support, exclaimed in the bitterest agony:

"'Oh God! her father and mother!'

"'A surgeon!' said Anne."

1999: "Rebecca suddenly leaped to her feet. 'I'm going to jump off the bridge!'

"'Why?' said Mark....

"'We used to do it when we were little! It's heaven!'

"'But the water's very low,' said Mark.

"It was true, there was a foot and a half of baked earth all the way round the waterline.

"'No, no. I'm good at this, I'm very brave....I have made up my mind. I am resolute!' she twinkled archly, slipped on a pair of Prada mules, and sashayed off towards the bridge....

"Mark had got to his feet, looking worriedly at the water and up at the bridge.

"'Rebecca!' he said. 'I really don't think...'

"'It's all right, I trust my own judgment,' she said playfully, tossing her hair. Then she looked upwards, raised her arms, paused dramatically and jumped.

"Everyone stared as she hit the water. The moment came when she should have reappeared. She didn't. Mark started towards the lake just as she broke the surface screaming.

"He ploughed off towards her as did the other two boys. I reached in the bag for my mobile.

"They pulled her to the shallows and eventually, after muhc writhing and crying, Rebecca came limping to shore, supported between Mark and Nigel. It was clear that nothing too terrible could have happened.

"I got up and handed her my towel. 'Shall I dial 999?' I said as a sort of joke."

Dealing with Women Persuaded by their Friends

1817: "'What! would I be turned back from doing a thing that I had determined to do, and that I knew to be right, by the airs and interference of such a person, or of any persons, I may say? No, I have no idea of being so easily persuaded. When I have made up my mind, I have made it.'"

1999: "There was silence, then Mark burst out again.

"'This self-help book nonsense--all these mythical rules of conduct you're presumed to be following. ANd you just know every move you make is being dissected by a committee of girlfriends according to some breathtakingly arbitrary code made up of Buddhism Today, Venus and Buddha Have a Shag, and the Koran. You end up feeling like some laboratory mouse with an ear on its back!'"

"...But Rebecca was off on one again. 'Oh, I quite agree,' she gushed. 'I have no time for all that stuff. If I decide I love someone then nothing will stand in my way. Nothing. Not friends, not theories. I just follow my instincts, follow my heart.'"

Dealing with a Breakup

1816: "All the privilege I claim for my own sex* (and it is not a very enviable one: you need not covet it), is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone!"

1999: "In fact if we* love someone it's pretty hard to get them out of our system when they bugger off."

*female

* * *

Excerpts from Persuasion (Jane Austen, 1817) and Bridget Jones: the Edge of Reason (Helen Fielding, 1999). One wonders if T.S. Eliot had any idea that his words could be applied this way when he wrote Tradition and the Individual Talent.

"...and it is not very wonderful that, with all their promising talents and early information, they should be entirely deficient in the less common acquirements of self-knowledge, generosity and humility. In everything but disposition, they were admirably taught."

"The politeness which he had been brought up to practise as a duty made it impossible for her to escape; while the want of that higher species of self-command, that just consideration of others, that knowledge of her own heart, that principle of right, which had not formed any essential part of her education, made her miserable under it."

* * *

Finished Mansfield Park around 5:00 this morning. Haaay, puwedeng pang Pinoy telenovela. Hitik sa drama!

How to get over someone (who got one girl pregnant, left her, went after you, and left you to marry yet another girl, one with a bigger dowry):

" 'When the weather is settled, and I have recovered my strength,' said [Marianne], 'we will take long walks together every day ... I know we shall be happy. I know the summer will pass happily away. I mean never to be later in rising than six, and from that time till dinner I shall divide every moment between music and reading. I have formed my plan, and am determined to enter on a course of serious study. Our own library is too well known to me to be resorted to for anything beyond mere amusement. But there are many works well worth reading at the Park; and there are others of more modern production which I know I can borrow of Colonel Brandon. By reading only six hours a day, I shall gain in the course of a twelvemonth a great deal of instruction which I now feel myself to want.' "

How to compare your fiancée's letter-wiriting skills to that of an ex's (who was going to marry you even though you'd fallen out of love but then left you for your younger brother):

" 'I will not ask your opinion of it as a composition,' said Edward. 'For worlds would not I have had a letter of hers seen by you in former days. In a sister it is bad enough, but in a wife! How I have blushed over the pages of her writing! and I believe I may say that since the first half-year of our foolish business--this is the only letter I ever recieved from her, of which the substance made me any amends for the defect of the style.' "

And with that, we finish Sense & Sensibility. Now for Mansfield Park.

I'm hooked.

Damnit, Jane.

"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."

- Fitzwilliam Darcy to Elizabeth Bennett, when asked "to account for his having ever fallen in love with her."

" 'I am not now to learn,' replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the hand, 'that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.' " *

* * *

" 'When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on this subject I shall hope to recieve a more favourable answer than you have now given me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application, and perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female character.' " *

* * *

" '... and you should take it into farther consideration that in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your portion is unhappily so small that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I shall chuse to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.' " *

* * *

" '...and I am persuaded that when sanctioned by the express authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of being acceptable.' " *

* * *

Barely 80 pages into Pride and Prejudice and Jane Austen has me in stitches. For everyone's delectation in this post-Valentine's season.

__________

* Pages 74-75, Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen. The unabridged Dover republication of a standard text reprinted from the 1813 edition. Including obsolete English spellings from Ms. Austen's period. Italics and boldface text mine. :D

I'd always wanted to get my Shakespeare reading back on track, so last week I started to read The Merry Wives of Windsor, mostly for its protagonist, the amoral Falstaff. So there I was, ambling along the iambic pentameter, when lo! Old Will Shakespeare gave me a little surprise:

"This punk is one of Cupid's couriers." (Pistol, Act 2, Scene 2)

This discovery merited noting down in my (seldom-used) journal and some Googling.

According to Answers.com, the word means:

• A young person, especially a member of a rebellious counterculture group;
• An inexperienced young man.

It goes on further to say that it's an archaic term for "prostitute" (I read elsewhere it might mean to derive from "punctured"), with an additional note: "Origin unknown."

Yahoo! Answers, on the other hand, had another story regarding its origin. The question was posed to several users, which garnered a few proposed answers, and were in turn voted on by the community as to what the most viable answer was. Yahoo! Answers pegs the word's earliest usage to be in 1618 in Virginia, a word referring to overcooked corn, one who had Native American origins.

Too bad none of the Yahoo! Answers people bothered to check their Shakespeare, because lo! The Merry Wives of Windsor is generally believed to have been written for the Garter Feast on April 23, 1597 (St. George's Day). This was the same day when George Carey, the patron of Shakespeare's company, was installed as a Knight of the Garter.* This same order also figures prominently in the play.

If there's any doubt as to the veracity of this supposition, a corrupt text of the play was first printed in 1602, and the play was performed for James I in November 1604,* which predates them colonists in Virginia by at least 14 years.

Now I'm wondering if it's more appropriate if a "broken sonnet" hailed (hahaha, pun!) from a punk band.

Another discovery:

"I cannot tell what the dickens his name is my husband had him of."  (Mistress Page, Act 3, Scene 2)

I'd always thought the phrase found its origins in Charles Dickens, who was born in 1812, but apparently, the phrase's origin is this play! Amazing.

More on the play as I progress. Happy Valentine's Day, all!

__________

* William Shakespeare: The Complete Works, edited by Stanley Wells and Gary Taylor. Oxford University Press, 1988.