Romanticism 2.0

The excitement in the air was palpable. The news had spread. We were having a guest lecturer from the British Association for Romantic Studies (and the English department). He had me at hello. Not to mention when he started talking about the myth of Prometheus and its relevance to romanticism. The very dumbed down version (meaning mine) is that Prometheus, a Demi-God of some sort. Stole fire from the Gods and gave it to Man (the women couldn't be trusted), causing him to be punshed by the gods by being stapled to a rock, so that a malevolent bird could eat his liver every day for 30 odd years. This act symbolises many of the actions and emotions that, to romantics, represent the best aspects of human nature.

The Prometheus myth has been a source of inspiration for many of the romantic writers. For example, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein has the not-so-subtle link to the creation of man aspect of the myth.

One such text that we looked at in preparation for the lecture was Ozymandias, by Percy Shelley. The sonnet describes a great statue of a "king of kings" which beseeches all who look at it to marvel at the great kingdom before them, whilst there is only sand and dust. The poem was written after Shelley visited the British museum and saw the statue himself. There is an air of irony to be heard in the sonnet, as well as an implied link to the British empire, as if saying that all great things disappear eventually.



Another text we looked at was Keats' Ode on a Grecian Urn (the urn in question was apparently Roman, not Greek, but we'll let him off since he's dead). This was another museum piece that inspired contemplative thought, and a theme of creation and quiet admiration of the artist who made the vase. Once again, heady Promethean influence is shown throughout the piece. Though as well as this, there is simply the feel, that Keats is stretching his literary muscles. With many eloquent turns of phrase, and some personification, where the vase seems to be speaking.

Of course I'm not much of a poem person, I have probably just confused every implication and meaning in each text, and the poets themselves are right now somersaulting in their respective graves. Feel free to school me on my (many?) errors.

Sounds like a novel idea to me.