The Little Black Classics 02 – As Kingfishers catch fire is a collection of poetry by Gerard Manley Hopkins. Gerard Manley Hopkins (July 1844 – June 1889) was an English poet and Jesuit priest. He innovated a new form of poetry – Sprung Rhythm.

I like prose better than poetry. To add to that, this was a form of poetry that I had not read before. Consequently, it did take me some time to get used to it. I had not heard of sprung rhythm before I read this book. Being curious, I did some googling to find out more about Hopkins. And there I found out about sprung rhythm.

The first poem in this Little Black Classics edition is God’s Grandeur. It opens with the below lines.

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.

     It will flame out, like shining from a shook foil;

     It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil

Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;

     And all is seared with the trade; bleared, smeared with toil;

     And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil

Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

The above is a good example of sprung rhythm. Hopkins invented sprung rhythm to get away from the constraints of the running rhythm. In his view, the running rhythm made all the poetry sound the same. He wanted his observations to have a life of their own in poetry. As you read through the collection, you realize that the purpose of his poetry is to sing praises of God. In his praise of God, he relies a lot on imagery from nature. It feels as if everywhere he looks at the world, he witnesses something profound.

This collection takes its title from the poem “As kingfishers catch fire”. Below are the opening lines.

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;

As tumbled over rim in roundy wells

Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s

Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;

The later part of the collection has excerpts from Hopkins’s Journals. As I read through them, I couldn’t stop marveling at his observations of the nature. The prose he has written is evocative, as if he wants to capture everything that he sees and feels in words. For example, an entry marked May 3, 1866 –

Cold. Morning raw and wet, afternoon fine. Walked then with Addis, crossing Bablock Hythe, round by Skinner’s Weir through many fields into the Witney Road. Sky sleepy blue without liquidity.

Another one at April 22, 1871 –

But such a lovely damasking in the sky as today I never felt before. The blue was charged with simple instress, the higher, zenith sky earnest and frowning, lower more light and sweet.

Reading these little classics is becoming a window on things that are, but I did not know about. First, Boccaccio’s The Decameron. And now Hopkins. Looking forward to reading my next one.

This book was my introduction to a new form of poetry. But, the lines that I liked the most are not in sprung rhythm. They are from the poem Inversnaid.

What would the world be, once bereft

Of wet and of wilderness? Let them be left,

O let them be left, wildness and wet;

Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.

His love and appreciation for pristine nature shines through these lines. As I think through these lines, I have a question. What do you prefer, glory of man in his factories; or glory of God in the wonders of the nature?