Foreword

THE aphorisms on Poetry, or applicable to Poetry, with which this book begins were noted down by me, originally, for my private use. All — or nearly all — poets have made examinations into the necessities of Poetry, and I, for one, would rather read by the light of the sun than by lamplight.

In these notes we see Poetry and her necessities as they are seen by the eyes of the poet. These aphorisms throw a light, for me at least, on questions concerning Poetry. I hope they will do this for the readers. Some notes throw lights that are profound, others are like the happy little bee-winged lights of summer, staying for a moment on a flower — they come there purely for pleasure.

Among the most profound lights thrown on the necessities of our time is the aphorism of Baudelaire’s on ‘the animal of genius’, page 4.

There are many aphorisms about Simplicity, firstly because the search for the quintessence, the fusion of elements into a single current — the current that comes from the central core — is one of the principal necessities of Poetry to-day, — secondly because it is believed, by some, that simplicity is shown by debility and a feebleminded lack of muscle. — The right kind of simplicity is the result of ‘the hero’s immovable core’, and is a matter of grandeur and of strength, of perfect balance, of a heroic nakedness, of ‘the raw elegance of the Lion’. A return to the savagery of the senses — a voice that speaks ‘somewhat above a mortal mouth’ — and a grandeur of simplicity — these are among the principal necessities of Poetry at this time. Therefore Baudelaire’s saying about the animal of genius, and Leonardo’s notes about the olfactory and optic nerves of the lion, have a huge import.

The problems of the various arts touch each other. There are therefore, in this book, many aphorisms which dealt, originally, with music and with painting. They apply, equally, to Poetry.

Some people may cavil at the arrangement of the book. The notes are not arranged chronologically. But the reason for this is, I think, obvious. The shorter notes follow the aphorisms, excepting in the case of a note on the Earliest English Poetry, which belongs, by its nature, to the notes on Chaucer and the notes on early poets which follow those on Chaucer.

Again, it may be asked why I have not included more notes from Wordsworth’s, Coleridge’s, and Shelley’s writings on Poetry. The answer is, that this is my Notebook, and that one would not collect notes from these writers, excepting in cases where one wishes to underline a remark in its relation to other aphorisms.

I hope that the meanings of the aphorisms, and their relationship to each other, will not be found obscure. For me they are not, and I trust they will not be for others. One can but give what one believes to be the truth. In the words of Whitman, that basely slandered man who was one of the greatest of all poets, that inspired and great soul who has been seen through the dirty eyes of little, mean, and meagre souls — ‘Whatever satisfies the soul is truth’.

These truths satisfy mine.

EDITH SITWELL