Record Number: 32379
Reading Experience:
Evidence:
'The literary event of the week is our respected laureate's ode in the Times Literary Supplement: truly a most remarkable production, though I am afraid like the honest Major in "Patience", I must confess that "it seems to me nonsense". To do the man justice, the lines about Homer, the ones about the birds, the beginning of the vision, and a few other passages, are rather fine. But the habit of throwing in an odd rhyme here and there is rather uncomfortable: still, if you can lay your hand upon it ... you might keep this number.'
Century:1900-1945
Date:6 Jul 1916
Country:England
Timen/a
Place:Great Bookham
Surrey
'Gastons'
(Reader):
silent aloud unknown
solitary in company unknown
single serial unknown
(Listener):
solitary in company unknown
single serial unknown
Reader / Listener / Reading Group:
Reader: Age:Child (0-17)
Gender:Male
Date of Birth:29 Nov 1898
Socio-Economic Group:Professional / academic / merchant / farmer
Occupation:Student
Religion:Church of England
Country of Origin:Northern Ireland
Country of Experience:England
Listeners present if any:e.g family, servants, friends
n/a
Additional Comments:
n/a
Text Being Read:
Author: Title:Ode on the Tercentenary Commemoration of Shakespeare
Genre:Poetry
Form of Text:Print: Serial / periodical
Publication DetailsTimes Literary Supplement (6 July 1916), 319
Provenanceowned
Probably by the Kirkpatricks rather than Lewis himself
Source Information:
Record ID:32379
Source:C. S. Lewis
Editor:Walter Hooper
Title:C. S. Lewis Collected Letters
Place of Publication:London
Date of Publication:2000
Vol:1
Page:213
Additional Comments:
From a letter to his father, 14? July 1916 The reference is to Gilbert and Sullivan, Patience, Act 1. It is Patience who says 'Well, it seems to me to be nonsense.'
Citation:
C. S. Lewis, Walter Hooper (ed.), C. S. Lewis Collected Letters, (London, 2000), 1, p. 213, http://www.open.ac.uk/Arts/reading/UK/record_details.php?id=32379, accessed: 22 November 2024
Additional Comments:
The poem begins: Kind dove-wing'd Peace, for whose green olive-crown The noblest kings would give their diadems, Mother, who hast ruled our home so long, How suddenly art thou fled! The poem is the first item in: 'Shakespeare's England: an Account of the Life & Manners of his Age, volume 1, Clarendon Press Oxford, in the Tercentenary Year 1916'