|
MS JJ: How does The Prelude change through time? |
I'm currently working as the Research Assistant on a really exciting project led by Dr Bradley Stephens (University of Bristol) and Alex Butterworth from
Amblr called 'The Next Time(line)'. As part of the
Books and Print Sandbox, funded by the
REACT Knowledge Exchange Hub for the Creative Economy, our project is looking at how to redesign literary timelines for the digital age.
At present, the timelines offered by literary apps don't do much more than their paper counterparts, so we're exploring how touch screen devices can be used to offer a more dynamic, intuitive, and ultimately interesting form of timeline. In developing our prototype, we are using three texts - Wordsworth's
Prelude, Hugo's
Les Misérables, and Shakespeare's Henry V - and, as the resident expert on British Romanticism, I have been spending the past few weeks thinking about how time flows through The Prelude, as well as how the text itself is shaped and altered through (and by) time.
As part of the project, we have been keeping an online journal detailing our thoughts, questions, and discoveries, and this week I contributed a post, reproduced below, on Wordsworth and time. The original post can be read here, alongside some other fascinating entries from Bradley and Alex on adapting Les Misérables and contemplating pace and time. I hope that you enjoy exploring our project and will follow our blog over the coming weeks to see our work develop.
Wordsworth: The Growth of a Poet's Mind in Time
Many are the joys
Of youth, but, oh, what happiness to live
When every hour brings palpable access
Of knowledge, when all knowledge is delight,
And sorrow is not there.
William Wordsworth,
The 1805 Prelude (II, 304-08)
The Romantics, writing in an age of revolution and change, were
fascinated by cycles of time. My doctoral research has focused on the
second-generation Romantics, looking at how writers such as Mary Shelley
and Lord Byron were inspired by the latest developments in geology and
archaeology, as well as by contemporary thinking on population, empire,
and posterity, to look ahead to the end of time and the death of
mankind.
As Research Assistant on
The Next Time[line], I am excited by the
opportunities presented by this project to look at how time flows
through texts, and this week have been thinking about the complexities
of time in Wordsworth’s
Prelude.
|
Wordsworth around the time that he started The Prelude |
The Prelude is a poem obsessed, and enmeshed, with issues of
time. Charting the poet’s formative years across some 8500 lines of
verse, the text both adheres to a linear chronology and disrupts this
order, playing with the flow of time and layering the years in which it
was composed (1799-1805) over the years it describes (1770-1798). While
the poem maps Wordsworth’s poetic development through time, it is
simultaneously aware of the difficulties of transcribing time, and
explores how the memory skips over whole years even as it focuses in on
small, specific moments in great detail.
Wordsworth inserts markers of time into
The Prelude on an
almost obsessive level, but these can be as unsettling to the reader as
they are indicative of stability and linear progression. Alongside
numerous references to measurable hours, days, months, and seasons,
Wordsworth scatters disconcerting moments where time can be observed to
move at unnatural speeds.
In the dizziness of youth, for example, the solitary cliffs wheel by
the young Wordsworth ‘even as if the earth had rolled ǀ With visible
motion her diurnal round’ (I, 485-86). The natural flow of time, usually
imperceptible, is here transformed into something fantastic which is
both exhilarating and terrifying to watch. As the poet proceeds through
his childhood, this sense of time rushing before his eyes recurs, and
Wordsworth explains how ‘the year span round ǀ With giddy motion’ as he
and his friends ran ‘a boisterous race’ through time (II, 48-49).
Wordsworth’s unsettling uses of time can be explored further if we
look at the ways in which he revised his poem. Moving between different
versions of the text, we can see that sometimes what appear to be
definite, grounding markers of time are not always as they seem. ‘Well I
call to mind’, Wordsworth states with reassuring certainty of an
episode in Book I of the 1805
Prelude, ‘’Twas at an early age,
ere I had seen ǀ Nine summers [...]’ (I, 309-10). If we turn to the 1850
rewriting, however, we find this marker corrected to read ‘Ere I had
told ǀ Ten birth-days’ (I, 306-07).
Discovering that even seemingly fixed and accurate markers of time in
the text can be destabilised in this way can remove the reader’s faith
in the ‘authority’ of the poem’s chronology. In this sense, the older
Wordsworth writing from memory about time can unsettle us as much as the
younger Wordsworth’s giddy and immediate perception of wheeling time.
Taking these ideas forward over the next two months into
The Next Time[line], our team will be looking at how
The Prelude is
shaped through time from its origins as the two-part 1799 version of
the poem through to the 1805 thirteen-book text and possibly the 1850
rewriting. Charting how developments in Wordworth’s life and times flow
through the text, we will explore possible external taxonomies such as
the impact of Wordsworth’s reading on the growth of the poem through
time, as well as perhaps looking at how we can categorise markers of
time in the text itself into a useable set of data.
Just as it is often the instances of moments and minutes charted by Wordsworth in
The Prelude
which are most significant in his poetic development, so we hope that
in pulling out some of these small strands we will gain a more complete
understanding of the poem as a whole.
Having spent the past two days thinking about what some of these
strands could be, and considering how they can be combined to form
various pathways through the text, the team is excited to move forward
to the next stage of the project. Over the next fortnight, we will begin
collecting data and planning how this can be developed into a prototype
timeline which is both intuitive and illuminating, allowing readers
explore how a text is shaped both by and through time.