21 December 1817: Keats as Kean, Kean as Keats, Endymion as Filler

 
                     
                     Offices of The Champion. On this day, Keats, subbing in for his good friend John Hamilton Reynolds, publishes a theatrical review for The Champion on the legendary actor Edmund Kean in the title role of Richard III, though Keats draws on Kean’s other performances and roles.
John Scott is editor of The Champion (first published in January 1814), which is known
                     as a liberal-progressive reviewing paper. Scott goes on to become the editor of London Magazine in 1820. In February 1821 (the same month Keats
                     dies), Scott is killed in a duel that evolves hostilities between himself and writers
                     for
                     Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine, and in particular, John Gibson Lockhart, who earlier publicly (though
                     anonymously) ridicules and condemns Leigh Hunt and
                     the Cockney School,
 and then, also, Keats and his poetry. (See 16 February 1821 for
                     more on the duel’s context.)
Keats’s connection with the magazine mainly comes via Reynolds, who writes criticism and poetry for the paper. Reynolds writes a positive review of Keats’s 1817 Poems for the magazine. The magazine also publishes some of Keats’s poetry, including On the Sea (17 August 1817) and, more importantly, On Seeing the Elgin Marbles and To Haydon with a Sonnet Written on Seeing the Elgin Marbles (9 March 1817); the Elgin marble poems are published in The Examiner on the same day.
 
                     
                     Coming to terms with Kean’s acting style is highly
                     significant for Keats. Keats describes Kean as uncannily focusing on voice, language,
                     and
                     elocution—on the syllable, even. The drama, in short, resides with the intensity Kean
                     puts
                     into the words; they are, in effect, the objects of his acting, Keats posits. In praising
                     Kean, Keats in his review turns to what he believes great poetry possesses: A melodious
                        passage in poetry is full of pleasures both sensual and spiritual. The spiritual is
                        felt
                        when the very letters and points of charactered language show like the hieroglyphics
                        of
                        beauty:—the mysterious signs of immortal Freemasonry!
 The giveaway in this enthusiastic
                     and critically probing statement of course points to what Keats is attempting to fashion
                     through his own developing poetical character: a voice that will bear both the sensual
                     and the
                     spiritual in creating lasting beauty via physical language itself—the measured efficacy
                     of
                     those words on the page—without being overbearing or acting in excess. Again, Keats
                     projects
                     on to Kean’s dramatic style what he desires of and in his own poetry, since Kean,
                     according to
                     Keats, becomes the lines themselves—he is, at it were, the chameleon actor: Kean,
                     Keats
                     writes, has this intense power of atomizing the passion of every syllable—of taking to
                        himself the wings of verse.
 Keats holds that Kean becomes
 the thing he describes;
                     Kean delivers himself up to the instant feeling.
 Kean becomes the subject that he
                     articulates. This anticipates what Keats strikingly sounds toward the end of 1818,
                     when he
                     writes that the poetical Character
 is chameleon-like, in that it assumes whatever
                     Body
 or state it takes as its subject (letters, 27 Oct. 1818). 
Despite, then, having some evolving sense of the direction his poetry must take, it
                     will take
                     Keats about a year to consistently step away from poetry that either seems random
                     and for its
                     own sake, or that, at worst, wallows in unnatural poetic affectations. Endymion, the 4,050-line poem that takes up a great deal of 1817 (and represents
                     more or less the middle phase of Keats’s poetic development) is in fact a good example
                     of a
                     poem that, at too many moments, is overloaded with diffuse description, poetic posturing,
                     and
                     sensuality without sense or spirituality; moreover, its form—couplets—are too often
                     driven by
                     diversionary rhyme, despite being somewhat experimental. The poem seems in search
                     of a
                     subject, and does not (like Kean) with gusto embody the subject that it can turn and
                     explore.
                     When Keats writes that a significant part of his purpose in writing Endymion is to see if he can make 4000
                        lines of one bare circumstance and fill them with Poetry
 (letters, 8 Oct 1817), we are
                     entitled to say that the poem is not much more than filler. Toward the end of drafting
                     the
                     poem, Keats is greatly aware of its deficiencies; such awareness is a good thing.
                     
Keats writes reviews for The Champion in December 1817/January 1818.

 
            