Mrs. King - School Year 2010-2011

Friday, March 20, 2020

Percy Bysshe Shelley's "Poetical Essay" Belongs In The Public Domain



Image assumed to be in the Public Domain


The following is a tragic tale about how valuable work of literature was rediscovered, and then undiscovered. This loss for the arts was not due purely to negligence or accident, but to a selfish violation to the memory of Percy Bysshe Shelley. Even if you don't read Shelley, you should, at the very least, be profoundly perturbed by the ways in which the wealthy claim exclusive ownership over our cultural history. Shelley was a victim of avaricious entitlement.



In 2010, The Guardian reported a finding the rocked the literary world. Daisy Hay, a Cambridge graduate, was snooping through the library, as most graduates do, and came across an old manuscript. It turns out that these writings were the unpublished memoirs of one Claire Clairmont, Byron's former lover and a friend of Percy Bysshe Shelley. In these memoirs, she described these two poets in no genial terms, calling them "monsters of lying, meanness, cruelty and treachery." Clairmont, who was at that point a Catholic, branded Byron and Shelley as worshipers of "free love", who ruined the lives of women. Clairmont had personal experience with this ruination, and good reason to be sour. Soon after getting her pregnant with Allegra (who died at age eight), Byron abandoned Clairmont, presumably because he was married to another woman at the time. For this, she labelled him, "a human tyger [sic] slaking his thirst for inflicting pain upon defenceless women" (Alberge).

The writings have proved to be a boon to historians and biographers everywhere, and has helped to increase our understanding of the relationship between Clairmont and the Shelley's. Imagine, however, if Hay decided to sell Clairmont's memoirs to the highest bidder with the new owner refusing to allow anyone else to read the memoirs except himself. Such an action would be rightfully denounced as a greedy theft of history, a selfish attempt to claim personal rights to our global cultural heritage. Distasteful though it may be to entertain such callous contempt for the ever fragile past, it isn't beyond the depravity of some human beings to do so. Daisy Hay was not such an entity. Quaritch Rare Books & Manuscripts, it appears, is.

Of course, when Quaritch sold the recently discovered "Poetical Essay" by Percy Bysshe Shelley, they may have assumed that the owner would be generous enough to share Shelley's words with the public. Though if so, then it would've certainly been little trouble to ask. They were careless, however, in hastily selling off the "Poetical Essay" to the one with the fattest wallet. Quaritch knew how valuable this piece of Shelley's was, (or at least they should have) yet they felt no responsibility to alert local historians? Shameful. I don't have to tell you the exact amount of money paid to Quaritch for selling the "Poetical Essay", except that it weighed about the same as the silver coins paid to Judas Iscariot.

The news of the "Poetical Essay's" rediscovery was the toast of The Guardian in 2006,

"The revelation in today's Times Literary Supplement that an early poem by the great Percy Bysshe Shelley has come to light, and is in the possession of a London bookseller, will cause even more excitement than most. This is a wonderful discovery: few Shelley scholars ever believed the poem, Poetical Essay, would resurface and some even doubted its existence. It is a fantastic chance to learn more about the political and poetic development of the young Shelley," (O'Brien).

However, four years later, the same year, mind you, that Daisy Hay found Clairmont's memoirs, the "Poetical Essay" had vanished once more from the public eye. Michael Rosen noted that the poem in it's entirety was never made available, the reason being that only three people had read it: owner at Quaritch, the person who bought the poem, and some lucky professor by the name of Henry R Woudhuysen. The new owner, apparently, isn't interested in letting any of us peasants read his new treasure. More odd to Rosen, though, was the lack of outrage over the whole scandal, "we were approaching the fourth anniversary of the rediscovery of Shelley's "Poetical Essay" and that we, the public, were no nearer to reading it." (The Guardian) Rosen succinctly expresses his anger well in this paragraph,

"First of all, I would like the poem to be available to read by anyone who is interested. I believe that should have happened the moment it was rediscovered. Secondly, I want to know why Professor Woudhuysen was given the right to look at the poem, but no one else was. Thirdly, I want to know why this situation doesn't seem to bother anyone in the great republic of letters, least of all that guardian of literary precision and exactitude, the TLS. Isn't it an outrage, that a long dead, great writer's work can be hidden away in its owner's drawer?"

Rosen is completely correct here, "Owning manuscripts is one thing: owning the contents is quite another." Copyright laws back him up, too. In general, works fall into public domain 70 years after the death of the creator. This has recently been stalled in the United States by corporations such as Disney, but that's a discussion for another time. What matters, for the moment, is that Shelley's "Poetical Essay" was written in 1811, well past due any claims to copyright. Thus, the "Poetical Essay" is in the public domain, meaning: it belongs to us, the public. We, collectively, have a right to the contents of Shelley's essay, and it is illegal, let me repeat, illegal for the current owner to claim otherwise. There should be a manhunt for this shrewd, elitist coward, I want a subpoena for his arrest. Quaritch should be, at the very least, fined for their blatant carelessness with such a historical artifact. Their hands aren't clean in this affair. They are complicit, in every sense of the word.

So just what was Shelley's "Poetical Essay" all about? It is an anti-militarist piece, written in defense of Peter Finnerty, a critic of Britian's suppression of an Irish revolt, who was later imprisoned for speaking out. Paul O'Brien gave the poem background upon its discovery,

"But his first and defining political campaign was about Irish religious and political freedom - and it is here where the discovery of Poetical Essay is most relevant. Shelley published it in support of Peter Finnerty, the Irish journalist jailed for libelling Viscount Castlereagh, the Anglo-Irish politician who was sent to Ireland in 1797 to crush the United Irishmen rebelling against British rule. Castlereagh's brutality made him the most hated man in Ireland. Shelley was a professed admirer of the United Irishmen, and the events and personalities of the 1798 rebellion were crucial to his political and intellectual development. His abiding hatred for Castlereagh was venomously expressed in the Mask of Anarchy:

"I met murder on the way -
He had a mask like Castlereagh -
Very smooth he looked, yet grim;
Seven bloodhounds followed him

"Finnerty was the editor of the Dublin newspaper the Press and a man of great courage. He was indicted for an article which denounced the actions of Castlereagh, found guilty of sedition, imprisoned for two years and sentenced to stand for an hour in the pillory in Green Street in Dublin. Shelley, then a young undergraduate at Oxford University, was eager to show support for Finnerty. He placed an advertisement in the Oxford Herald announcing the new work, a Poetical Essay, "for assisting to maintain in prison Mr Peter Finnerty", for sale "price two shillings" (The Guardian).

This showed great courage on Shelley's part (though his relations with women may be another matter), and made me think of another great poet who wrote on behalf of Irish suffering, William Butler Yeats. A fragment of Shelley's "Poetical Essay" has made its way into public. It's sharp and rhythmic, certainly, but what I want is meat, when we've been fed only the bone. Regardless, take it away, Shelley.

"Millions to fight compell'd, to fight or die
In mangled heaps on War's red altar lie . . .
When legal murders swell the lists of pride;
When glory's views the titled idiot guide.
* * *
Man must assert his native rights, must say
We take from Monarchs' hand the granted sway;
Oppressive law no more shall power retain,
Peace, love, and concord, once shall rule again,
And heal the anguish of a suffering world;
Then, then shall things which now confusedly hurled,
Seem Chaos, be resolved to order's sway,
And error's night be turned to virtue's day."


Bibliography

Alberge, Dalya. "Byron's lover takes revenge from beyond the grave." The Guardian, March 27, 2010. Web. http://www.theguardian.com/books/2010/mar/28/byron-and-shelley-were-monsters

O'Brien, Paul. "Prophet of the revolution." The Guardian, July 14, 2006. Web. http://www.theguardian.com/books/2006/jul/14/poetry.comment

Rosen, Michael. "Owning manuscripts is one thing: owning the contents is quite another." The Guardian, July 23, 2010. Web. http://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2010/jul/23/owning-manuscripts-owning-contents

Thursday, March 19, 2020

UCLan’s cJAM Media Event, Friday 22 November

The games design course was excited to take part in cJAM: Media last week!
The event that enables our talented students to meet face-to-face with senior industry professionals, to share ideas, make connections and pitch for opportunities.
cJAM events are hosted by the Faculty of Culture and the Creative Industries and the objective is to give our students the opportunity to win placements that will help launch their careers.

The day included:
FREE breakfast and lunch

Giant speed pitching session

Chance to win industry placements

Industry guest speakers

Industry Q&A panel

Networking throughout.

We were so proud to welcome our Alumni, Saija Wintersun, now Senior Environment Artist at Rebellion, Oxford.
Saija spent much of the day reviewing student portfolios and offering her expert advice.





































The Creative Innovation Zone in UCLan's Media Factory was buzzing with conversation as hundreds of students queued for 'speed dating' style interviews with their industry heroes and mentors.

See details of the programme HERE.

Tania Callagher, UCLan Resources Co-ordinator and Richard Albiston, Creative Producer of The Great Northern Creative Expo, must be given utmost credit for arranging this inspiring and exhuberent event which led to 88 placements being awarded to Media students.





























A Fear Of Flying They Call It


Image in Public Domain.



Being the easily impressionable student that I am, I decided to take on the collegiate tradition of studying abroad. It's a common cliche to hear alumni gush about how studying abroad changed their life, and will change yours, too. The salesmen sure know how to pitch, but I can't say I was completely sold.



I study Spanish, by the way. No, it didn't come out of a great passion for the language, or anything noble like that. In my freshman year of high school I had to select two electives. I chose Spanish and Wood Shop, since they seemed to be the easiest grades. Sure enough, they were. I intended to stay for only two years in Spanish, but stayed longer for the fiestas. Yes, I'm sleazy.

A few scholarships later, I found myself at the airport, ready to go. Well, not so ready. My proficiency in Spanish was crap. I'd only taken a cursory glance at the map, so I getting lost was inevitable. My destination was Santander, Spain. A city I'd never heard of before.

The luxurious plane trip did well to calm my nerves. I have always been pensive about flying, having heard the stories of cramped seats, crowded bathrooms, and crappy airplane food. I didn't worry too much about airsickness (since I'm not prone to vomiting), but I grasped my sick bag should Pazuzu suddenly feel the urge to possess me. I expected lifting off to be like riding on a roller coaster (did I forget mention I don't like those?) yet flying through the air hardly felt any different that riding in a car. Better even. My fears about airplanes were assuaged halfway between the in-flight movie and risotto. This was the Blackjack of Setzer Gabbani. Yet, alas, no flight lasts forever.

In the book of Exodus, Moses names his first son with Zipporah, "Gershon", while in exile from Egyptian royalty. In Hebrew, "Gershon" means "stranger in a strange land." In Spain, I thought my name was "Gershon", but in Spain, my name was "mud."

My problems started as soon as I landed in the Madrid airport. The place was a labyrinth and with no David Bowie to guide me, either. After studiously running around in circles for about two and a half hours, I finally found my plane...just about to take off! The flight crew had to stop the departure for me to get on. I scrambled into my seat, sweaty, delirious, and paranoid.

I took a taxi to my host mother's apartment, knowing my habit for getting lost. The Spanish was mostly basic, "Hola", "¿Que tal?", "Estoy bien", etc. I think those cheap formalities would've sufficed, but I overreached my hand and chewed off more than I could swallow. She gave me a slightly confused look. To this day, I wonder what it was that I said. A cat named Rita also lived there. Cats speak the same language in Spain.

I soon had to meet up with my classmates at "Ayuntamiento" which is Spanish for "town hall." I stepped into the streets nervously, my hands jammed into my pockets for fear of thieves. I tried desperately not to look a tourist, but that veneer faded as soon as I brought out my map of the city. I was lost for two hours. A fat lot of good the map did. At the end of my struggle, I gave in and searched out a taxi, but the cab driver nearly laughed me out the vehicle. It turns out that Ayuntamiento was only a few minutes away.

The next day was hardly any better. Classes began at 8:30, so I woke up at 6:00, knowing that there would be a long walk ahead of me. The school was somewhere on the other side of the city, and I had no idea what it looked like. I figured at the time that a university would be easy to spot. Well, you know what they say about assumptions.

The trek was tiring, to say the least. It often had me going uphill through the various neighborhoods and alleyways. I recalled watching The Flash on the plane. How I would've loved to have had Barry Allen's super-speed at the time. Though if I did, I might've missed out on many of the aesthetics. The shops and dwellings of Santander were melded to fit into the rising landscape. Laundry hung on clotheslines outside of the windows, while pigeons scurried on the grounds, pecking for bread crumbs. By the orange hues of sunrise, it all looked at times as if I had wandered into a painting. Though I doubt if a late student would get extra credit for cultural appreciation.

La Universidad de Cantabria was far smaller than I had anticipated, though I suppose that was for the best. If it had been any larger, I'd probably get lost there, too. The university, small though it was, would become something of a second home for me. The think with relish on the countless hours I would spend outside of the cafeteria, listening to quirky stories NPR, memorizing Spanish vocabulary, or eating what was left of my pig liver sandwich.

Perhaps it was the Sea of Cantabria that kept me (relatively) sane throughout all of that initial madness. My host mother had an apartment near the sea, so it sort of functioned as my North Star. I need only know where the sea is, and I'd (eventually) find my way home. It was a great, wide blue that glittered in the sunlight, its waves licking the shore.

I suppose there's something poetic in the sea, though I can't tell you exactly what it is.




1603, Quest For Quintana Roo!

In this episode we look at the game Quest for Quintana Roo, which I mispronounced for most of the show. Thanks to Eugenio for correcting me. I loved the game and I hope you will too. Next up is a big game, Joust by Atari via Williams. If you have any thoughts on this game, please get them to me by end of day 5th October and I'll put it in the show. Remember, just tell me your thoughts on the game, I'll take care of the game play. you can send those thoughts to 2600gamebygame@gmail.com. Thanks so much for listening!

Quest for Quintana Roo on Random Terrain
Atari Age thread on Quintana Roo Carbon Dating
Sunrise memo on Atarimania Page 1  Page 2
Ed Salvo interview by Scott Stilphen
Atari Compendium Quest For Quintana Roo Easter egg and bug page
No Swear Gamer 461 - Quest for Quintana Roo
No Swear Gamer - Quest for Quintana Roo gameplay

Monday, March 16, 2020

Tilda's Bedroom


Sunday, March 15, 2020

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