26 December 1817: Harlequin’s Vision & Philosophical Directions: Kean, Shakespeare, & Wordsworth
Drury Lane Theatre, London

 
                     
                     Keats has seen Edmund Kean, perhaps the premier (and certainly the most controversial) actor of the era, perform the title role Shakespeare’s Richard III on opening night, 15 December, at Drury Lane Theatre.
Keats reports in a letter that Kean acted finely
 (letters, 21 Dec 1817), and he
                     discusses Kean with other friends over the next few days. On 21 December, his review
                     of Kean
                     appears in The Champion, where he stands in as reviewer for
                     his friend, John Hamilton Reynolds, who is out
                     of town in Devon. For the review, Keats also draws upon other performances of Kean
                     he has
                     seen. Keats sees at least part of the play again on 12 January 1818. 
On 26 December, Keats sees the play (pantomime) Harlequin’s Vision with his very good friends Charles Armitage Brown and Charles Wentworth Dilke, also at Drury Lane Theatre. Keats’s review of the play (and of Retribution, as well—likely seen 1 Jan 1818, at Covent Garden) appears in The Champion, 4 January 1818.
Keats late this month begins to formulate a poetics in his letters that, in about
                     a year,
                     lead to some definite, and perhaps stunning, changes and leaps in the quality and
                     character of
                     his poetry. One of Keats’s pivotal conclusions (apparently arising first in discussion
                     with
                     Dilke) connects with his emerging ideas about superior literary achievement: that
                     the
                        excellence of every Art is its intensity, capable of making all disagreeables evaporate,
                     and that with a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or
                        rather obliterates all consideration.
 Keats feels this is exemplified by Shakespeare,
                     and is exampled in Shakespeare’s King Lear (letters, 21/27 Dec). Although thinking and feeling are
                     conflicting or even contrary states of human behavior and experience, it is nevertheless
                     possible to represent these poetically—as both beautiful and therefore true. To be
                     embraced
                     are those disagreeables,
 all those uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts
—the
                     quality
 forms a Man of Achievement especially in Literature.
 Keats secures
                     this aspirational quality Keats secures in a single, memorable term, Negative
                     Capability. [For a more full treatment of Keats’s letter that describes his
                     arrival at Negative Capability, go to 27 December 1817.]
Here, then, as mentioned, Keats by name celebrates the nature of Shakespeare’s achievement—he, writes Keats, is the one who
                     possesses these qualities so enormously.
 But Keats also momentarily brushes up against
                     William Wordsworth’s territory—poetry as
                     philosophy, philosophical poetry. We glimpse this when, in analyzing Kean’s intense
                     and
                     ranging acting style, Keats, notes that Wordsworth, too, feels his being
 deeply. But
                     the poetic problem for Keats will be how not to channel such depth through a dominating,
                     lyrical subjectivity—what Keats ten months later will more exactly term the wordsworthian
                        or egotistical sublime
 (letters, 27 Oct 1818). Keats thus desires poetry as deep and
                     searching of nature and the human condition as Wordsworth, and his underlying model
                     almost
                     certainly springs from Wordsworth’s seminal poem, Tintern
                        Abbey. But how can he, following Wordsworth, likewise see into the life of
                        things
 (Tintern Abbey, line 50)? How can he fathom and
                     poetically represent what Wordsworth calls the burthen of the mystery
 (line 39) without
                     employing a legislating poetic subjectivity, one that displays both personal and locational
                     history? Keats will only be able to poetically manifest answers to these questions
                     in his
                     poetry of 1819, and most strikingly in To Autumn, which is his version of the
                     Wordsworthian seeing-into-the-life-of-things. Keats’s great poem (perhaps greatest
                     poem) looks
                     out in the landscape and does indeed see into it, into its eternal, beautiful qualities
                     that
                     connects the stilled movement of all things, holding, at once, and with embraced tranquillity
                     and subtle sensuality, intimations of life and death. And he does so without that
                     legislating
                     Wordsworthian I.
 
                     
                     
 
            