May 12 is the birthday of Victorian poet and artist Dante Gabriel Rossetti

One of many self-portraits

The blessed damozel leaned out

From the gold bar of Heaven;

Her eyes were deeper than the depth

Of waters stilled at even;

She had three lilies in her hand,

And the stars in her hair were seven.

 

~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti ("The Blessed Damozel," st. 1) 

 

If you paint as well as you write you may be a rich man, or at all events, if you do not wish to be rich, may get leisure enough to cultivate your writing.  But I need hardly tell you that poetry, even the best... is not a thing for a man to live upon while he is in the flesh, however immortal it may render him in spirit. 

 

~ Leigh Hunt (1784-1859) (letter to Rossetti, March 1848) 

He produced several versions of Proserpine (wiki) (sometimes Proserpina), the Roman goddess who lives in the underworld during Winter, using Jane Morris* (wife of his friend and fellow pre-Raphaelite William Morris) as model. On the top right his sonnet, in Italian, is inscribed by the artist - the same sonnet in English is inscribed on the frame (see below).

 

The final of several iterations of Proserpine, the Roman
 goddess who lives in the underworld during Winter,
with Jane Morris as model.

Per Rossetti, on Perserpine: 

"She is represented in a gloomy corridor of her palace, with the fatal fruit in her hand. As she passes, a gleam strikes on the wall behind her from some inlet suddenly opened, and admitting for a moment the sight of the upper world; and she glances furtively towards it, immersed in thought."

The sonnet:

Afar away the light that brings cold cheer

Unto this wall, – one instant and no more

Admitted at my distant palace-door

Afar the flowers of Enna from this drear

Dire fruit, which, tasted once, must thrall me here.

Afar those skies from this Tartarean grey

That chills me: and afar how far away,

The nights that shall become the days that were.

Afar from mine own self I seem, and wing

Strange ways in thought, and listen for a sign:

And still some heart unto some soul doth pine,

(Whose sounds mine inner sense in fain to bring,

Continually together murmuring) —

'Woe me for thee, unhappy Proserpine'.

~ D. G. Rossetti

* Rossetti stayed with his lover Jane Morris, wife of William Morris, at Kelmscott Manor during the summer months each year - in winter she returned to stay with William Morris, thus paralleling, at least from Rosetti's point of view, Proserpine's freedom during summer.

  

Blue Gazebo - larger version here. Note the medieval millefleur
("thousand flowers") style background - characteristic of the pre-
Raphaelites in general, although less so of Rossetti in particular.

May 12 is the anniversary of the birth of English poet and pre-Raphaelite painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti (wiki) (1828-1882).  Born in London, Rossetti founded the "Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood" (wiki) in 1848 with Holman Hunt, John Millais, and others to protest low standards in British art - the Pre-Raphaelite movement sought to revitalize British art by returning to the spiritual qualities of medieval painting, with an emphasis on detailed observation of the natural world and the use of pictorial narrative to convey "truth". Some of his best paintings were done under the patronage of John Ruskin and the influence of William Morris and Edward Burne-Jones, all of whom Rossetti befriended early in his life.  

In both his paintings and his poetry (such as "The Blessed Damozel"), Rossetti presented idealized portrayals of womanhood. He was also a prolific translator of early Italian verse from Dante's circle - leading Ruskin to describe him as "a great Italian lost in the inferno of London."

Here's an archive of his art works and one of his poetry.

I'm a huge fan of pre-Raphaelite art, and, back in the 70s when I was into fantasy, I read everything William Morris ever wrote. About them as a group, though, and their weird interactions - I've run into a little bit as part of other articles, but every time I run into more I realize, once again, how weird they were. Here's a bit on insight into that:

On Dante Gabriel Rossetti and wombats. (London Review of Books) (There is a book on this, by the way: Rossetti's Wombat: Pre-Raphaelites and Australian Animals in Victorian London, in case you're interested. I'm not that interested.): an excerpt from the article is is below, but read the whole thing.

He had two, one named Top after William Morris, whose nickname ‘Topsy’ came from his head of tight curls. In September 1869, Rossetti wrote in a letter that the wombat had successfully interrupted a seemingly uninterruptable monologue by John Ruskin by burrowing its nose between the critic’s waistcoat and jacket. Rossetti drew the wombats repeatedly; he sketched his mistress – William Morris’s wife, Jane – walking one on a leash. In the image, both Jane and the wombat look irate. Both wear halos.

Lots more on the subject here: “O Uommibatto”: How the Pre-Raphaelites Became Obsessed with the Wombat.

Rossetti's sister, Christina Rossetti (wiki) (1830-1894), who lived much of her life as a virtual recluse, is also remembered as a major Victorian lyric poet. Here's one of the illustrations he did for her poem "The Goblin Market" (wiki) (full poem online) - note all of the wombats:

Parts of the text above are adapted from Ed's Quotation of the Day, only available via email - leave your email address in the comments if you'd like to be added to his list. Ed is the author of Hunters and Killers: Volume 1: Anti-Submarine Warfare from 1776 to 1943 and Hunters and Killers: Volume 2: Anti-Submarine Warfare from 1943.

It's the birthday of Wilfred Owen, the best of the WWI "War Poets"

I've always wondered what he would have been capable of if he hadn't died in the line of duty at the age of 25. Here's a harrowing excerpt from one of Owens' anti-war poems, the final stanza of "Dolce Et Decorum Est": 

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sack of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gurgling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues -
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Here's the whole thing.

For conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty in the attack on the Fonsomme Line on October 1st/2nd, 1918. On the company commander becoming a casualty, he assumed command and showed fine leadership and resisted a heavy counter-attack. He personally manipulated a captured enemy machine gun from an isolated position and inflicted considerable losses on the enemy. Throughout he behaved most gallantly.

~ Citation for the award of the Military Cross to Wilfred Owen, 30 July 1919

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori is a line from the Roman poet Horace's Odes (III.2.13). The line can be roughly translated into English as "It is sweet and fitting to die for your country." Kenneth Branagh reads the poem here:

March 18 is the anniversary of the birth of English "war poet" Wilfred (Edward Salter) Owen (1893-1918) (wiki) (online archive) (BBC History), whose verse forms much of the text of the celebrated War Requiem (wiki) of Benjamin Britten*. Born in Oswestry and raised in Shrewsbury, Owen became the "lay assistant" to a vicar in nearby Dunsden in 1911 and later tutored English in France.

After the outbreak of World War I, he returned to England to enlist and eventually served on the Somme. Severely "shell-shocked," he was invalided home in May 1917 then returned to active duty in France in August 1918. Owen was awarded the Military Cross posthumously for gallantry in an action two months later, but he was killed, at the age of 25, by German machine-gun fire while leading an attack on the Sambre-Oise canal just a week before the Armistice in November 1918. 

A BBC production on Owen's life entitled Wilfred Owen: A Remembrance Tale:

Here's a live television broadcast of Benjamin Britten conducting his own War Requiem in 1964:

Parts of the text above is adapted from Ed's Quotation of the Day, only available via email - leave your email address in the comments if you'd like to be added to his list. Ed is the author of Hunters and Killers: Volume 1: Anti-Submarine Warfare from 1776 to 1943 and Hunters and Killers: Volume 2: Anti-Submarine Warfare from 1943.

Scots, wha hae - Happy Burns Day! Here's a bio, Burns Supper instructions, and lots of haggis

William Wallace

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led;
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victory!

Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lour;
See approach proud Edward's power—
Chains and slavery!

Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave!
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!

Wha for Scotland's king and law
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand, or freeman fa',
Let him follow me!

William Wallace played by
Mel Gibson in Braveheart)

By oppression's woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!

Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!—
Let us do or die!

~ Robert Burns, in the form of a speech given by Robert the Bruce (wiki) before the Battle of Bannockburn (wiki) in 1314, where Scotland maintained its sovereignty from the Kingdom of England. "Wallace" refers to William Wallace (wiki) (the character played by Mel Gibson in the 1995 movie Braveheart), who struggled unsuccessfully in the 1290s to do what Bruce at last accomplished in 1314. 

Some hae meat and canna eat,

And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit.

~ Burns ("The Selkirk Grace") 

Battle of Bannockburn

What an antithetical mind! - tenderness, roughness - delicacy, coarseness - sentiment, sensuality - soaring and groveling, dirt and deity - all mixed up in that one compound of inspired clay! 

~George Gordon, Lord Byron (wiki) (1788-1824) (of Robert Burns, diary, December 1813) 

"For my own affairs, I am in a fair way of becoming as eminent as Thomas à Kempis, or John Bunyan (wiki); and you may expect henceforth to see my birthday inscribed among the wonderful events, in the Poor Robin and Aberdeen Almanacks, along with the Black Monday and the Battle of Bothwell-bridge."

~ Burns, from a 1786 letter to his early patron, Gavin Hamilton:

Today is the anniversary of the birth of Robert Burns (wiki) (1759-1796), Scotland's beloved "prince of poets," in Alloway. Raised on a farm, Burns nonetheless read poetry as a youth, which inspired him to write verse of his own in the Scottish dialect. He first published his poems in 1786, hoping to earn enough money to emigrate to Jamaica, but their immediate success led him to remain in Scotland and become an (unsuccessful) gentleman farmer. 

Lionized in Edinburgh, he produced hundreds of lyrics, including such favorites as "My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose," "Auld Lang Syne," "Comin' Through the Rye," and "My Heart's in the Highlands" - as well as such popular poems as "To a Louse" and "To a Mouse" ("The best laid schemes o' mice an' men/Gang aft a-gley.") You can find most of these poems here.

All over the world tonight, Scotsmen will gather to celebrate "Burns Night" with bagpipes, haggis, Scotch whisky, and well-lubricated recitations of their bard's characteristic poems.

Haggis, traditional at these celebrations, is the heart, liver and lungs of a sheep ground up, then boiled inside the sheep's stomach. Yum, right? 

These DIY haggis pops are much portable than the full version and probably equally yummy. Instructables member PenfoldPlant made them for a Burns Supper from nice, fresh sheep guts. He even cleaned and prepared the stomach itself, which serves as the coating of these delicious wonders. This step required careful work; he placed a ping pong ball in part of the stomach, then tied off and cut that part off the rest of the stomach. (H/T Neatorama)

The world's largest haggis is the size of a small car and contains:

1,537 lbs of select cuts of pork and pork offal

734 lbs of oatmeal

86 lbs of seasoning

51 lbs of onions

Here are 10 weird varieties of haggis, including haggis ice cream and potato chips.

Here is a typical run through and description of what is involved in a Burns Supper, which apparently is quite structured, and includes (but is not limited to):

Piping in the haggis

The haggis is the crowning glory of a Burns Supper and, suitably, is piped in to an upstanding audience. Traditionally the chef carries the haggis in on a silver platter behind the piper and is followed by the person who will address the haggis. 

The address to the haggis

The appointed speaker gives a dramatic rendition of Burns’ Address to a Haggis with a knife at the ready. After apologizing for ‘killing’ the haggis, they then plunge the knife into the haggis and slice it open during the line ‘An' cut you up wi' ready slight'’ meaning 'and cut you up with skill’. The recital ends with the platter being raised above their head whilst saying the triumphant words ‘Gie her a Haggis!’ to rapturous applause. The full address, in original version and modern translation is here - use it to follow along with the video.

Toast to the haggis

The speaker then invites the guests to toast the haggis and everyone, including the chef, raises their glasses and shouts 'The Haggis' before enjoying a dram. The haggis is then piped back out to be prepared for dinner.

The full meal, which always includes mashed neeps and tatties (turnips and potatoes) and a lot of Scotch, is followed by several entertainers interspersed with stories of Burns' life.

A fictional wild haggis specimen, Haggis scotticus,
 as displayed in the Glasgow Kelvingrove
Gallery, next to a prepared example

Here's a faux "scientific" article on the problems with reproduction among wild haggis entitled Applications of ultrasonography in the reproductive management of Dux magnusgentis venteris saginati:

Dux magnus gentis venteris saginati is considered to be a Scottish delicacy; however, depleting wild stocks have resulted in attempts to farm them. Selective breeding has been successful in modifying behaviour, increasing body length, reducing hair coat and improving fank (litter) size. However, there are still significant problems associated with the terrain in which they are farmed. This article describes the use of ultrasonography in the reproductive management of this species and the introduction of new genetic material in an attempt to address these problems, with the aim of improving welfare and productivity.

BBC has more on the Battle of Bannockburn.

And, last but not least, Mental Floss has 14 Scots Words from the Works of Robert Burns.

Based on Ed's Quotation of the Day, only available via email. If you'd like to be added to his distribution list, leave your email address in the comments.

Wednesday links

Feel-good story of the year is from an Ironman Triathlon: "Steen swam 2.4 miles while pulling Peder on a rubber raft, biked 112 miles with his brother seated in front of him, and ran 26.2 miles while pushing Peder in a wheelchair across hilly terrain."

Emerson’s Letter of Appreciation to Young Walt Whitman.

Photos from the late 19th century of thousands of cables crowding the skies.

Footage From Unmade Early ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit’ Movie Starring Paul (Pee Wee Herman) Reubens.

Handguns decorated by Tiffany circa 1890.

The World of Competitive Rock Paper Scissors.

ICYMI, Monday's links are here, and include health benefits of alcohol, video of Disney princes in real life, and what if one person had all of the world's money?