Kung-Fu Dryden

Dear Folk,

On this day, August 9, 1631, was born the English poet, dramatist, critic, and translator John Dryden. John was a politic poet. Arguably the most important of his ilk between Milton and Pope. Happy birthday, John.

John was born at Oldwinkle (sounds like a Shakespeare character, Oldwinkle) in Northamptonshire, England to Erasmus Dryden and his lovely wife Mary. Erasmus was a justice of the peace and served under Cromwell during the reign of the Parliament. John was educated at Westminster, then Trinity College at Cambridge. His early works included "Lachrymae Musarum" which was a collection of tributes in memory of Henry, Lord Hastings; "Heroic Stanzas" on the death of Oliver Cromwell; and "Astraea Redux" which celebrated the return of Charles II. You know for being from a Parliamentary family, John could write about whatever and whomever he wanted and did it smoothly. Actually, Dryden liked things to be peaceable. England was pretty darned lawless after Cromwell died and before Charles II took over.

He also wrote some of the most successful plays of the Restoration era, including the heroic tragedies The Conquest of Granada (1670) and All for Love (1677). He was rewarded for his Royalist sympathies with the Poet Laureateship, but lost the post when William and Mary took over in 1689. You see, Dryden refused to take an oath of allegiance to the two now sitting on the throne. He had problems distinguishing the eternal office and the folks temporarily holding it. Any of us have that problem? I thought not.

"Alexander's Feast, or the Power of Music; An Ode in Honour of St. Cecilia's Day" was one of his best. Dryden told of Timotheus, a musician, and how he rouses a banquet of emotions in his audience, especially in Alexander the Great. It was set to music by Henry Purcell. A taste of it?

(final chorus)

At last divine Cecilia came,
Inventress of the vocal frame:
The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store,
Enlarged the former narrow bounds,
And added length to solemn sounds,
With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before.
Let old Timotheus yield the prize,
Or both divide the crown;
He raised a mortal to the skies,
She drew an angel down.

Ain't that Smurfy! Honestly! Check that last line. In the same poem he has the line: "To none but the brave belongs the fair." Seems part of that line has been used as a title. Hmmm.

In 1662, Dryden had been elected to the Royal Society, and on December 1, 1663, he was married to Lady Elizabeth Howard, eldest daughter of the Earl of Berkshire. Not a bad match for a poet. Actually, he made money with his poetry and plays. It wasn't like he was a starving artist. He was so successful that Samuel Johnson wrote up his life. Later, though, some kings did not see fit to continue his promised stipends. John was patient about that.

John Dryden wrote many plays on the same themes as William Shakespeare. His "Antony and Cleopatra" and "Troilus and Cressida" may actually be judged better. Now don't turn up you noses just because they were borrowed from Shakespeare. Most of us know that Shakespeare borrowed rather heavily from others.

So he was rich and famous and everyone loved him. Right? Not quite. The Earl of Rochester, suspecting that Dryden had aided Lord Mulgrave in his attack of Rochester in the "Essay on Satire", had Dryden roughed up by hired ex-ruggers as he passed through Rose Street, Covent Garden. Dryden was returning from Will's coffee house to his own house in Gerrard Street. Of course, since Dryden chose not to use his lethal "touch of death" in his own defense (most of us poets are taught this secretly in poets' school), the rest of the world chose to laugh at Dryden. Well, they knew nothing, nothing. Next time, John would have used irony. Let's see them laugh that off! All kidding aside about him, Dryden showed every indication of being a good dude, a heckuva writer -- poet, playwright, critic, and translator - a staunch friend, a fellow not afraid to speak up for what he believed in. Even when things were bad, and they were several times in his later life, he held up to them with silence and dignity.

He died on April 30, 1700 of inflammation caused by gout, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

August 9th also marks the day that the last atomic device was given to the Japanese at Nagasaki. 1945. Nagasaki had a ship construction facility and had an American POW camp there. The device was a plutonium sphere rapidly compressed with shaped explosives. It killed 70,000 people. St. Dominic would have been proud.

What have we learned from all of this? Roughing up poets may be easy sport but ruggers don't get buried in Westminster Abbey (or do they?) St. Cecilia laid down some hot licks? Bombing or beating folks shows one's moral superiority? Gout can kill if not caught in time? How about: talent borrows but true genius steals? Works for me!

All you Smurfs and Smurfettes out there, drop these devices upon those whomever you will; however, leave my name and sig attached.

Your long lost cousin,
J. Ellsworth Weaver

SCA - Sir Balthazar of Endor
AS - Polyphemus Theognis
TRV - Sebastian Yeats