24 November 1818: A Dying Brother’s Only Comfort & Hazlitt’s Influence
50 Poland Street, London

 
                     
                     
                     Where Keats’s much respected, supportive, and witty friend James Rice, an attorney, lives. On this day, Keats writes to him to explain what seems to be a social misunderstanding involving a meeting with Rice (and possibly another) in the morning. Keats tries to avoid and to explain hurt feelings.
November is difficult for Keats, though earlier in the month he receives a gift of
                     25 pounds
                     from someone calling him- or herself P.
                        Fenbank,
 along with a lackluster though flattering Sonnet to John Keats that praises him as a Star of high promise
 who
                     illuminates this dark age
: the poem bestows Keats with mild light,
                     clear beam,
 and bold integrity of song
 that will shine through all ages.
                     This somewhat bolsters his spirits, though later, with a little pride, he writes that
                     the
                        present galls me a little
 (29 Dec). 
But this month is dominated by caring for his younger brother, Tom, just turned nineteen, as he slips toward death from
                     tuberculosis. Keats has been nursing him almost continuously since returning from
                     his northern
                     walking tour, mid-August. In October, writing to his other younger brother George and his wife Georgiana in America, he sadly admits that he is Tom’s only comfort,
 and he
                     calls the situation my Misery.
 His own emotional struggle with Tom’s grim condition
                     holds him back from being able to write much about it (letters, 14, 16 Oct). On the
                     evening of
                     the last day of November, it is clear that Tom’s death is very near. 
Not only does caring for Tom exhaust and depress Keats, but it also prevents him from any sustained work on his ambitious Hyperion, which he has recently begun. He’s been thinking about the topic (the displacement of the Titans by the Olympians) for almost a year. Relative to his earlier long and at moments flighty poem Endymion (published April 1818, and which he was anxious to put behind him), he sees Hyperion as more deeply abstract, unsentimental, and classical. He’s right. There’s little poetic prettification and affectation in the poem.
 
                     
                     
                     Tom’s grave condition also pulls Keats away
                     from the rounds of socializing that he normally keeps up with his London and Hampstead
                     friends. During the period of caring for Tom, and even when he goes out more frequently,
                     he
                     notes that it leaves him without anything fresh
 to speculate upon.
 Until
                     mid-October, at least, his actual poetic progress is stymied: the way I am at present
                        situated, I have too many interruptions to a train of feeling to be able to write
                        Poetry
                     (16 Oct). This, however, does not stop Keats thinking about the kind of poetry he
                     wants to
                     write and the kind of poet he wants to become. 
So in November, we have to imagine Keats at Tom’s bedside, with no family support; with nagging financial issues and the family estate clogging his energies (he sees the family guardian, Richard Abbey, a number of times in late October and into early November); with further struggles with Abbey about having his younger sister, Fanny, get permission to visit with Tom; with his fears about his own health issues (a chronic sore throat); with recent malicious reviews of his poetry in Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine and The Quarterly Review to contend with; and with the desire to write an epic poem of significant (Miltonic) scope, pitched at an entirely new level and style that might counter his dismissive association with Leigh Hunt and the so-called Cockney School of poetry, which Hunt is charged with leading. Keats’s friends notice his overwrought state. Behind all this must be Keats’s associative feelings of about eight years before when he witnessed his mother’s fall to the same agonizing, wasting illness. At this point in medical history, no one knows that TB is highly contagious.
Along with attempts to move forward with Hyperion (which
                     contains perhaps his best poetry written thus far, though he abandons it for a few
                     months),
                     Keats may have written a few shorter poems during November. But it would be difficult
                     for this
                     poetry not to be at least partially inflected by what literally stares him in face:
                     Tom’s agonizing descent. Given its subject, Keats
                     possibly writes Bards
                           of passion and of mirth in November: the poem idealizes poetry’s
                     immortal—heavenly—qualities, with the idea that these qualities with their wisdom
                     of sustained
                     melodious truths
 might teach
 those who suffer earthly inconstancies,
                     weaknesses, and doubts. Keats writes that the poem is on the double immortality of
                        Poets
 (2 Jan 1819, in a letter begun 16 Dec). 
Perhaps significantly, Keats inserts the Bards of passion poem into a
                     letter just after taking the trouble to quote at length his friend and critical mentor
                     William Hazlitt, where Hazlitt describes William Godwin’s genius
: the key, Hazlitt
                     writes, is Godwin’s study of the human heart
 and his empathetic imagination. This
                     obviously resonates with Keats. Why? Because, in fact, these have become central to
                     Keats’s
                     poetics—to his subject (the human heart
), and to how he will explore his subject (with
                     an empathetic imagination). That they in part derive from Hazlitt is not surprising,
                     given
                     Keats’s respect for Hazlitt as well as how Keats’s most famous critical
                     formulations—Negative Capability
 (letters, 21/27 Dec 1817) and the
                        camelion Poet
 (letters, 27 Oct 1818)—to a significant degree are also adapted from
                     Hazlitt, as are Keats’s ideas about artistic intensity, disinterestedness, and the
                     interpenetration of truth and beauty.

 
            