Ode: Imitations to Immortality
Right now I’m one week behind on the readings so this is why I’m blogging on 'Intimations' now, opposed to a week ago when you guys covered it in class. I skipped class that day, I was a little tired, so yeah, hopefully it won't seem like deja vu for any of you.
Um, 'Intimations' is a very interesting poem. It really stresses the Wordsworthian idea that supports the idealism of youth over the adult life. I thought the most important lines were found here on the top of page 299 (it’s in the fifth stanza):
“ Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God, who is our home:
Heaven lies about us in our infancy! ”
Wordsworth brings up quite the philosophical debate. He’s saying that in youth do we closely resemble the essence of heaven, and are nearer to it’s perfection in remembrance; as we get older we lose this essence, and the closeness towards the celestial. Another key theme is the idea of immortality; of course the word is squeezed into the title ( I had such a difficulty finding the poem in the book because it wasn’t under its original title, rather ‘There was a time’. Fie to those editors and their inconvenient categorizing ). Wordsworth is saying that children cannot conceive the concept of mortality ( ie. ‘We are Seven’). This naivety of the profoundness of mortality enables the fruitful thoughts, ideas, and splendor that accompany us when we are young. The speaker of the poem, I would argue is Wordsworth himself; the poem is too emotional, and seemingly personal, to figure otherwise. I wonder though, why Wordsworth (speaker) in this state of nostalgic lamentation for most of the poem, can all of a sudden end on such a high note. In the last stanza he's like 'what the hell! With all this nature around me how can I be so sad ? '; I found his concluding enthusiasm quite amusing.
After reading this poem, and reflecting on the others we've read, I get the impression that Wordsworth is perpetually stuck in this ongoing ebb and flow of emotions that revolve around nature and reality. It's like he's only happy when living in the 'now', opposed to lamenting on the past. Living in the 'now' is actually a philosophical idea that exterminates the negative thoughts that bring you down when you think emotionally about the past, or when fabricating a negative image of yourself in the future. These concepts are touched on in Stephen Covey's " Seven Habits of Highly Effective People ", and Eckhart Tolle's " The Power of Now: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment". If you get a chance, read Covey's 'Seven Habits' it's worth your time.
Aiight, Ciao