007. Song To The Men Of England. P B Shelley Song. Appreciation by P S Remesh Chandran

007. Song To The Men Of England. P B Shelley Song. Appreciation by P S Remesh Chandran

Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum


By PSRemeshChandra, 18th Mar 2011  Short URL http://nut.bz/21kpi-9l/  

Posted in Wikinut>Poetry, Drama & Criticism


A revolutionary is a person who causes constant changes around him wherever he is. In this sense, Shelley was a revolutionary poet. Song To The Men Of England opened up world’s eyes to the torture, brutality and exploitation workers were subjected to in England during the time of her colonial prosperity and raised the question: Why can’t we revolt?

Kill not a bird or beast or man, they are all our brethren.

A portrait of Percy Bysshe Shelley. By Alfred Clint 1819.

Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote each poem to celebrate and enjoy each particular tune as we can see in his Song To The Men Of England, Ode To The West Wind, To A Skylark, The Cloud and Adonais. He is considered one of the greatest poets in the English Language. And his influence on world literature is paramount. When we refer to him as a revolutionary, it does not mean he advocated merciless killing. In fact, he considered even animals as our fellow creatures, not to be slain for human food. It was after reading his works that the famous English author and dramatist George Bernard Shaw became a strict vegetarian. 

Workers and exploiters are like bees and drones in the bee community.

A 1939 weaving loom with flying shuttles. By Imus Eus.

Here in this poem, Shelley is asking the Nineteenth century peasants and workers of England why they are not revolting against the landlords and production owners who are exploiting them to the last drop of their blood. In the Bee community, female bees do all the work and the male drones live by exploiting them. Shelley calls the workers Bees and the exploiters Drones which is apt

Purpose of weapons fails when they are used against man.

A 200 single yarn beaming machine of 1907. By Imus Eus.

Shelley’s questions in the poem to the workers of England skillfully bring out their pitiful living conditions in the England of his times. He is asking them for what reason they plough the fields for the lords who are responsible for their poverty. For what reason with toil and care they weave the rich robes their tyrants are wearing, while their own children shiver in the dark without coal or cotton. From their birth till their death the workers feed, clothe and save those ungrateful drones, who in their turn would either drain their sweat or drink their blood.

Weapons become spoiled when they are stained with their makers’ blood.

The celestial forge of Venus and Vulcan. Oil By Le Nain Brothers 1641.

The Bees of England forge many weapons, chains and scourges which go straight to the hands of the tyrants to be used against them in it’s time. Weapons were invented to assist man in his works but when used against man, their purpose fails and they become spoiled. Critics have differed in their interpretations of this word ‘spoiled.’ A weapon to become spoiled means, to become stained with it’s maker’s blood. Knives were invented for cutting away tree branches from the ancient man’s path, chains were invented for lifting huge weights from the ground, and whips for taming wild animals. But when they happen to be used for throat-cutting, binding men together and for beating him, their purpose fails and they become spoiled.

Sacrificing a life, making riches and robes and arms for tyrants.

Forge arms, in your defense to bear. By Penny Mayes.

The workers pay so high a price by living in constant pain, fear and poverty but even then, in spite of all their sufferings, at least their physical and spiritual needs are not got fulfilled. If not for fulfilling their basic animalistic needs, why should they labour from morning till night and from night till morning? Leisure, comfort and calmness are the spiritual needs of man. Food, shelter and the medicinal treatment of love are the physical needs of man. It is strange to note that Shelley, unlike many of the other poets of his times, has included love as a physical need of man, like food. The workers sow seed, but the harvest is taken away by the lords. They bring wealth out of earth through their work, but the riches are amassed and kept by the others. They weave robes for the others, but their own children have nothing to wear. The arms they forge also add to the armories of the oppressors. Thus Shelley convinces the workers of England and elsewhere that they are exploited to the extreme and that rising through revolutions is their right.

A poet’s burning eloquence forcing the doors of England open.

Sow seed and reap, but let not the idle heap. By Bernard Gagnon.

We will normally expect that the poet, spreading such radical ideas will finally find his way to the London Tower, the English equivalent of the French Bastille. But it was the era of the Industrial Revolution, closely following the English version of the Italian Renaissance. No workers’ revolution occurred in England then or later as Shelley hoped and Marx predicted. Communism, the supreme theory of revolution was indeed born in England’s soil, but Carl Marx fuming and storming his head in the British Museum for Thirty two years came to no use. Prosperity extinguishes revolutionary traits whereas poverty inflames them. But England in later years became the haven and world headquarters of revolutionaries in exile, due to the open door policy there. Shelley’s burning eloquence in this song cannot be denied it’s due share of influence in bringing about this change.

The silent song of weaving their winding-sheets to their graves.

Weaving their winding sheet to their graves. By Thomas Khaipi.

Shelley showed to the exploited workers that they have a right to rise in revolts. He encourages them to sow seed but let no tyrant reap; find wealth but let no impostor heap them. But his clarion-calls fell into deaf ears. Seeing the inertness of the English workers, towards the end of the poem, Shelley condemns them. By not revolting, they will have to finally shrink to their cells, cellars and holes that are supposed to be their residences, as the vast halls they constructed are all possessed by the privileged. Imagine a great massive elephant melting itself down and disappearing into the tiny pit of a sand-elephant; that is how the proletariat shrinks. The great beast does not know its capabilities. It is a pity to see them still wearing and shaking the chains they themselves wrought. ‘The steel ye tempered glance on ye’, he says. Glance here has a dual meaning. He used the word in it’s both senses: slip off from the hand causing a mortal wound, and have a quick look. The steel the workers themselves tempered ridiculingly laughs at them! If their destiny goes on unhampered in this manner, with plough and spade and hoe and loom, the tools of their trade, they will continue to build their tomb and weave their winding-sheet till their beautiful England becomes their vast sepulchre.


Shelley was very bold and daring to have published these lines during the peak of England’s colonial powers. And he certainly might have been very sympathetic and delinquent in his attitude to the workers in his native land. He indeed was a very brilliant poet who set fire to the conscience of his century. This poem is a masterpiece of poetical eloquence. Commitment and involvement in flames.

Pictures Courtesy: Wikimedia Commons


Appreciations, English Songs, Literature And Language, Percy Bysshe Shelley, Poetry, P S Remesh Chandran, Reviews, Sahyadri Books And Bloom Books Trivandrum, Song To The Men Of England

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If you cannot find all the articles of P S Remesh Chandran, Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum, access them via this link provided here: https://sites.google.com/site/timeuponmywindowsill/wiki-nut-articles
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Meet the author

Author profileEditor of Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum. Author of several books in English and in Malayalam. And also author of Swan: The Intelligent Picture Book. Born and brought up in the beautiful village of Nanniyode in Trivandrum District in the Sahya Mountain Valley in Kerala. Unmarried and single. Edits Bloom Books Channel, world’s foremost producers of musical English Recitation Videos.


004. The Leech Gatherer. William Wordsworth. Appreciation By P S Remesh Chandran

004.The Leech-Gatherer. William Wordsworth Poem. Appreciation by P S Remesh Chandran

Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum.


By PSRemeshChandra. 15th Mar 2011. Short URL http://nut.bz/134a-2vx/
Posted in Wikinut.  Poetry, Drama & Criticism

William Wordsworth’s poetry has no style because Nature and Life has no style. The perfect plainness of his poems gained him popularity. He mostly wrote about Nature and Man and is considered the world’s greatest Nature Poet. The world was very late in recognizing his merit. However, Glory found its way into his grave. The Leech-Gatherer is the universal symbol of Eternal Human Labour.

A poet’s perennial interest in Man and Nature.

A Portrait of William Wordsworth By Friedrich Bruckmann.

The poem The Leech-Gatherer has an alternative title, Resolution And Independence which is apt. When Wordsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Mary Shelley, according to a story, decided to write one model horror creation each, Coleridge wrote The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner which became an instant horror classic. Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein which still terrorizes the world. Wordsworth who was inept in such matters wrote The Stolen Boat which made no one horrified. The Leech-Gatherer was his supplement to this sequel which fulfilled it’s mission by creating a new sophistication in horror. It is one of the immortal creations of Wordsworth and can be spotted so among the hundreds of inferior poems he created during his poetic career. It has been a universal question, whether the world will provide for us in our old age. The Leech-Gatherer is the answer to this age-old question.

Appearance of exquisite nature pictures in poetry pages, after Edmund Spenser.

Dove Cottage in Grasmere. Once Home to Wordsworth By Strobilomyces.

The poem opens with presentation of a series of beautiful nature pictures, second only to Edmund Spenser in his The Fairee Queene. After the heavy rain and storm of yesternight, the Sun is rising calm and bright as if nothing had happened the day before. The atmosphere is such still and silent that sweet sounds of birds singing in the distant woods can be heard as distinctly as if they are very near. The voices of Stock-Dove, Magpie and Jay mixed with the pleasant noise of waters flowing everywhere fills the atmosphere. All the Sun-loving creatures are out of doors, i.e., out of their caves and dens, and the simple grass is shining bright with the rain drops adorning them. Unable to hide her mirth, the hare is running races in the morning air on the moor, just like frivolous and playful kitten. Wherever she touches her feet, tiny water particles splashes up rising like mist from the splashy earth, glittering in the Sun, forming beautiful rainbow-glows about her tiny feet. The poet can feel the very pulse-beat of Nature since he is personally present there.

As light and happy as a lark.

Grasmere Village With The Dove Cottage By Val Vannet.

‘He was then a morning traveller upon that moor. He was as happy as a boy that he sometimes heard and sometimes heard not the roaring sounds of the great woods and waterfalls around him.’ Now he has quite forgotten how sad he was moments earlier and would be, moments after. He has reached the peak of happiness if there is one, forgetting all his pangs and past memories and that sad, useless melancholic mood common and so natural to man.

Premonitions of a lonely traveller on the moor.

Waterfall and Stone Hut where the Poet wrote poems By Andy Davidson.

When we are happy, we begin to think that our happiness won’t end. And when we are sad, we begin to feel anxious about whether our sadness won’t end some day. Happiness and sadness are but waves in the sea of thoughtfulness which recede to the same still broadness. It is only natural for man to fall from the height of happiness to the depth of dejection. This happens to the poet also in that fine morning.

Clouds coming into the serene mind of a poet.

‘He was a traveller then upon the moor.’ By Unknown.

Fears and fancies come thick into his mind, like clouds coming ominously into a serene sky. In the midst and presence of such blissful creatures as the warbling sky lark and the playful hare, he feels himself to be walking away far from the world and all earthly cares. His whole life he has lived in pleasant thoughts as if life’s business were a summer dream. His poetry-writing career had not brought him enough to buy even his shoe-strings. Many mighty poets have returned to earth in their misery, suffering fleshly ills such as cold, pain and heavy labour. Would he too die the same way? Would solitude, distress, pain of heart, and poverty be awaiting him too, to accompany him to his grave? Is it not so that the tragic career of all poets, as a rule, begins in gladness and ends in sadness and gloom? The marvelous village Milton that was Chatterton, who had walked in glory and in joy along his native mountain side following his plough, had perished in poverty, but with pride. But why are these ominous thoughts occurring to him at these untoward moments? The goose-bumps springing up all through his body struck in that lonely and desolate moor told him that Nature is soon going to present him with some sign of divine warning to admonish him about the preciousness and rarity of Time. Then he saw it- the warning, placed there on the wild for all the world to see.

The warning written on the lonely moor, beside the pool.

Sudden appearance of a ghost of a man here By David Anstiss.

A very old man, perhaps the oldest man that ever wore grey hairs, appeared suddenly beside a pool in that wild, the oldest person the poet ever saw in this world. He never fitted in with those lonely wild surroundings. Such an extremely old man in such strangest of circumstances was odd and out of place. Nature does startle man with her bizarre and striking spectacles. ‘Sometimes huge stones can be seen lying couched on tree-less bald mountain tops, causing wonder to all who look at them.’ One will begin to think whether or not they are gifted with an unnatural ability to walk up the mountain eminence and lie couching there, precariously balanced. Another equally tantalizing spectacle is from the sea shore, that of ‘some huge sea-beast crawled forth and reposing on some shelf of rock or sand to sun itself.’ Such bizarre and out of place seemed the appearance and look of that old man in such strange surroundings. Some wild experience of disease or pain had caused his body to bend unnaturally double, making his feet and head come close together, in life’s pilgrimage. One will wonder how he can make himself still stand erect in that nature-tortured frame. He propped his body upon a long grey staff of shaven wood. ‘Upon the margin of that pool, he stood there as motionless as a firm cloud that moveth not in the wind, and if it move at all, moves all together.’ Not anywhere else in world literature has the uncanny appearance of old age ever been pictured more movingly.

Will the world look after us when we are old?

Gardens landscaped by the poet in Rydal Mount By Cmyk.

The old man was stirring the pond with his staff and studying the muddy water. Wordsworth very much wished to ask the old man what his occupation was there. He asked and the old man answered in an uncommon, lofty, decorated language. He was simply catching leeches from the pool. Enduring many hardships on the way, he had come to the pool to gather leeches for food and for sale. He has resolved to be independent and self-reliant in his old age. He roamed from pool to pool and from moor to moor gaining his legitimate living. He ‘gained an honest maintenance and got housing by chance or choice each day through God’s help.’

Was it real, or a vision of admonition from eternity?

Pond on the moor which the poet frequented By David Kitching.

The old man’s words burnt deep into the lazy poet’s heart. He wondered whether he hadn’t seen this person somewhere in his dreams. Yes, this is the eternal Time Man, The Kaala Purusha, walking through ages, ‘sent from some far off region to strengthen the poet by apt admonition.’ The lonely place, the old man’s shape and speech- all troubled him and for a while, he lost his senses. However, when he regained his consciousness, he was a completely changed new man, like the wedding- guest in The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner. The poet resolved to think about the leech-gatherer on the lonely moor, in future whenever his mind lost it’s strength. Thus the alternate title for the poem, Resolution And Independence is very appropriate. The element of horror in the poem owes it’s thanks to the poet’s friend Coleridge. The plainness of the poem is derived from Burns. The genuine contribution of Wordsworth in the poem is the unique moral treatment of the Man and Nature theme.


There is a jungle beauty spot with a broad, step waterfall in Meenmutty in Nanniyode Village in the Trivandrum District of Kerala. Mighty mountains surround it. I was a regular visitor to this place where I would wash my apparels, bathe in the torrent and lie on the rocks. On the distant mountain folds can be seen often an old man coming down, appearing and disappearing according to the nip and fall in the terrain. Finally he would reach the river bank and take a dip beside me in the torrent. Unlike the other natives, we were the two who preferred bathing above the waterfall to rather than descending to the safety of the lower tranquil part of the river. We both liked taking the risk of being swept away down by a flash flood that may originate from the proximity to the mountains. Then he would take his bait and catch one or two fishes for his dinner. Then he would rise and taking the fishes, the firewood, grass bundles for his goats, two killed birds and a hare, all gathered from the mountains, walk down through the rocks towards his home. Whenever he appeared on the river bank in the evenings, a water crow, the blackest and the ugliest I ever saw, also appeared and sat beside him on a rock amid the stream, hoping for a fish from his catch which it invariably got. I knew this old man was severe and strict to his children, wife and others, but his ragged and weather-beaten frame and his uncouth behavior was an attraction to me, a fascination. He in my eyes was a genuine unpolished creation of nature, independent and resolute in his old age.

One day news came that he was bitten by a deadly snake in the mountains and was lying in critical stage in a hospital. Many times it was rumoured that he has gone, and that it was good to his family. The water crow sat there on the rock amid the torrent each day. It was the first time I prayed Lord Shiva to perform a miracle and do not withdraw this creation from the village too soon. Anyway the Lord has an adornment of a magnificent snake around his neck. After days of lying unconscious the man was brought back to life, to the disappointment of many. In the distant mountain folds the head can still be seen rising up and down as he comes down to the river carrying his catch. The water crow still sits there on the rock in the stream and gets its snacks.

Pictures Courtesy: Wikimedia Commons


Book Appreciations, English Literature, English Songs, Poetry, P S Remesh Chandran, Resolution And Independence, Reviews, Sahyadri Books And Bloom Books Trivandrum, The Leech-Gatherer, William Wordsworth

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If you cannot find all the articles of P S Remesh Chandran, Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum, access them via this link provided here: https://sites.google.com/site/timeuponmywindowsill/wiki-nut-articles
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Meet the author


Author profileEditor of Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum. Author of several books in English and in Malayalam. And also author of Swan: The Intelligent Picture Book. Born and brought up in the beautiful village of Nanniyode in Trivandrum District in the Sahya Mountain Valley in Kerala. Unmarried and single. Edits Bloom Books Channel, world’s foremost producers of musical English Recitation Videos.

003. Forsaken Merman. Matthew Arnold. Appreciation By P S Remesh Chandran

003. The Forsaken Merman by Matthew Arnold: A Creation of Beauty. Appreciation by P S Remesh Chandran

Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum


By PSRemeshChandra, 13th Mar 2011 .  Short URL http://nut.bz/1ljtosiw/
Posted in Wikinut  Poetry, Drama & Criticism


Matthew Arnold has been a severe critic of Literature. Essays In Criticism was his monumental work in which he let no great poet go unscathed. Usually such critics would be asked a common question: why don’t you write a great poem? This poem The Forsaken Merman was Arnold’s answer in which he proved not only could he create poems of hilarious themes but could incorporate a number of exquisite tunes also in a single poem. After creating a few more poems he returned to Criticism and Academics.

The Forsaken Merman. Poem by Matthew Arnold. An appreciation.

Ocean is nothing but Land submerged. By Asea.

Matthew Arnold relates a very strange story in his poem The Forsaken Merman. The beautiful poem is picture-like, the descriptions of the sea-scapes and land-scapes vivid and presentation of the theme is logical. But the story is impossible to happen, though his inspiration for the theme can perhaps be traced to a spectacular sea-side village named Zennor in the County of Cornwall in England. It is not clear whether he happened to visit this village, but there indeed is a Mermaid Chair in the Church and also an associated legend, the hero in which having the poet’s exact name Matthew. A mermaid who lived in the Pendour Cove was entranced by Matthew’s exotic singing in the church and regularly visited the church in disguise. One day Matthew found out, fell deeply in love and followed her beneath the waves to her deep sea cavern. They were never again seen on land. The Cornish legend holds that in silent nights Matthew can still be heard singing from the deep sea, faintly brought to land by the breeze.

A lady from the land making her home in the deep sea cavern.

Lady from the land makes home in sea cavern. By Chris Gunns.

Margaret, a lady from the land happened to marry a King of the Sea, a merman. She now has her home and her children in the deep sea where they live in a cavern. The winds are all asleep there. The cavern is sand-strewn, cool and deep. The cavern is cold and dark also. Sea plants, sea animals and sea snakes are all around. Sometimes great whales can be seen passing by, resembling great ships on the sea surface. She has a loving husband and is leading a happy life in the depth of the sea.

Life arriving alighted on meteorites from cosmic realms.

Where the Winds are all asleep. By Nick Caloyianis, National Geographic.

Days of festivities in the land are endeared and nostalgic to all terrestrial human beings who are far away from land. One day, on silent Christmas nights, the sounds of pealing church bells reach the ocean bottom from the land. Man is mortal, temperamental and selfish. But water is something rare, precious and ethereal. Ocean is where life originated, smithereens of which arrived alighted on meteriorites from the cosmic realms and deposited there Aeons ago. Considering the length and brevity of history of life in the sea and in the land, there is difference in the subtlety in loyalties. The sea demands much in loyalty but the loyalty of a land-locked being is brittle.

Church bells from the land reaches where the winds are all asleep.

The Church on the Hill Side. By Jonathan Billinger.

Hearing the tongs of bells from the far away land, Margaret became home-sick and wishes to rise to the land to participate in the Christmas celebrations there. She forgets she is a mother and wife. It is terrible and strange that she is tired of sea-life overnight. She says:

“It will be Easter time in the world- ah me!
And I loose my poor soul Merman, here with thee.”

So with her loving husband’s permission, she rises from the sea and reaches her home land. The land has it’s thrills, beauties and enjoyments just as the sea has it’s own. Margaret forgot her family left behind in the deep sea.

From the deep sea in search of a beloved wife.

From the deep sea in search of beloved wife. By Jan Reurink.

Mermen and the angels are thought to be alike in many respects. Ardence, affection, kindness and mercy are considered to be their characteristics. Mighty monarchs of the deep, perfectly reflecting the magnanimity and loftiness of the oceans, keep their vows of chastity and integrity. The King of the Sea waited long for his wife’s return from the land. So one day, with their children, he too rose up from the sea, came to land and visited the church where Margaret usually prayed.

Generations of grief in the tumultuous soul of the holy trinity.

Steps to the Church where Aliens walked. Author Not Known.

They stood secretly outside and peeped inside through the church window. Being not humans and therefore aliens in land, they dared not go inside. This grief-stricken trio consisting of father, daughter and son knew nothing about Christian kindness. They were a holy trinity unto themselves. Generations of grief had been what caused that cosmic particle deposited on the ocean to germinate and evolve itself into life forms. Wind and waves and sky can never quieten the tumult in their souls. Won’t humans ever pay their debts to their gods?

A mother of ingratitude, her eyes sealed to the holy book.

Her eyes were sealed to the Holy Book. By Matthias Feige.

Her face was buried deep in the Bible. Through mutually understandable gestures, he tried in many ways to hint that their children very much longed for her. He asked the children to call and appeal to the motherhood in her in their voices in the hope that children’s voices would be dear to a mother’s ear. The children called their mother in their voices familiar to her. It was all in vain. She listened not. ‘She gave them never a look, for her eyes were sealed to the holy book.’ It is the first time the readers of this poem curses and hates the holy book. She was pretending. So it was useless persuading her to go back with them to the sea. She was determined not to return to sea.

We will gaze from the sand hills, at the white sleeping town.

We will gaze from the sand hills. By Steve Cadman, London UK.

Before returning to the sea with his children, the Merman once again visited the church and the town where his wife lived. He could see that she was living a very happy and contended life. She was seen always singing of supreme joy. ‘She sang her fill, singing most joyfully.’ However, the merman could see a tear drop down her sorrow-clouded eye. She was actually sad for her children left at sea. The cold, strange eyes of her little girl child looking at her through the equally cold church window had created pangs in her guilty soul. So the disappointed merman with his children decided to return to the sea. Before he goes, he proposes to his children to visit the land on moonlit nights again. They would come and see the church and the town by nights. He sings:

“We will gaze from the sand-hills
At the white sleeping town,
At the church on the hill side
And then come back down.”

The pain in the eyes of a girl-child left out by her mother.

We will gaze from the sand hills at the lost town. By Daderot.

Matthew Arnold created the closing lines of this poem ever memorable. The grief of a girl-child who is left out and abandoned by her beloved mother can never be and shall be described in words. It is unspeakable. The readers will never forget the pain in the cold strange eyes of the girl child looking at her mother through the church windows. Arnold wished to make the world weep with his poem; he succeeded.


Matthew Arnold was the son of Thomas Arnold, the famous teacher who introduced the famous Public School System in England. The son did not fail his father even once and not only shone like a star in literature, but excelled as an Academic and Inspector of Schools also. Even though he was a critic in blood, we will forget he is, once we get immersed in his poetry. He is indeed a born poet also. What he really was, a critic or a poet, perhaps he himself might not have known well. However, his over-indulgence in literary criticism was responsible for the scantiness of his poems. His creations in both fields are equally excellent and respected.

It is known that no one has ever orchestrated The Forsaken Merman fully which is a great loss to the world. He used a variety of excellent tunes in the song to appropriately and touchingly express each move and twist in the mood along the song, which it seems he conceived as a musical entertainment. I approached this song not as an academic but as an appreciator struggling to sing it. I was thrilled at my success. I did nothing special or exceptional in my endeavor, but repeatedly sang it as many times till the original music that was on the mind of the poet while writing this song automatically clicked and was revealed. It was like unlocking a closed precious thing through perseverance. It should be said that this cunning poet skillfully locked his music to prevent access to the lazy and the haughty.

The musical experiment Matthew Arnold did with The Forsaken Merman is unique in the field of music as well as in the field of literature. Only one other poet has ever been known to have conducted such a bold, successful and thrilling experiment in music as well as in literature. It was Alfred Lord Tennyson. The poem was The Lotos-Eaters. In this song Tennyson invented and used a number of tunes to move in synchronization with the tantalizingly changing actions of the intoxicated. He incorporated even the swaying to and fro movements of the ship carrying the Lotos-eaten dreamers in corresponding movements in his music. The world is still awaiting the Choreographed Orchestrations of The Forsaken Merman and The Lotos-Eaters. They are yet to come, but they will come indeed. 



Pictures Courtesy: Wikimedia Commons


Dear Reader,

If you cannot find all the articles of P S Remesh Chandran, Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum, access them via this link provided here: https://sites.google.com/site/timeuponmywindowsill/wiki-nut-articles
Also Visit Sahyadri Books Online Trivandrum in Blogger and author’s Bloom Books Channel in You Tube.
Author’s Google Plus Page: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+PSRemeshChandran/posts


Appreciation, English Literature, English Poems, Forsaken Merman, Matthew Arnold, P S Remesh Chandran, Reviews, Sahyadri Books Bloom Books, Trivandrum

Bloom Books Channel has a video of this song.


Meet the author

Author profileEditor of Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum. Author of several books in English and in Malayalam. And also author of Swan: The Intelligent Picture Book. Born and brought up in the beautiful village of Nanniyode in Trivandrum District in the Sahya Mountain Valley in Kerala. Unmarried and single. Edits Bloom Books Channel, world’s foremost producers of musical English Recitation Videos.

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