The harmony of contrasts is a leading theme in the aesthetics of nature and of the arts. Watch the harmonies unfold in this 1877 poem by English poet and Roman Catholic priest Gerard Manley Hopkins.
Pied Beauty
Glory be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.
The poem gives glory to God for dappled things in nature and in human artifacts. There is nothing artificial or dramatic about the chosen theme: dappled things are common, everyday things, and we are invited to take notice and delight.
We get a burst of Hopkins’s characteristic innovative language, combining meanings densely, without obvious literal sense, though a cluster of images: “fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls”—embers of freshly fallen chestnuts in a fire.
For all the gentle peacefulness of the tone, the range of the kinds of things indicated is remarkably broad: a natural element, the sky; living things; the humanly worked landscape; equipment; humans themselves; and contrasting pairs of general properties. The concluding contrasts embrace all creatures (swift, slow), and the full range of human experience (from adazzle to dim).
A relaxed unknowing (“Who knows how?”) and the juxtaposition, “adazzle, dim,” prepare the culminating vision, not only by the introductory phrase, “Glory be to God,” but more especially by the qualities portrayed in what we can perceive. All is bathed in observant delight and warm appreciation.
The type of beauty first in view, “pied beauty,” is not ideal perfection, but the loosely patterned contrasts of our world. God is not dappled, however, so there remains a final contrast between the beauty of God and created beauty.
A gentle ethical touch of generous appreciation covers “whatever is fickle.” In most contexts, fickleness is a foible. It is not yet a vice, since fickleness is situated in an acceptable region of a spectrum whose extreme is indecision, inconstancy, default, and betrayal. The embrace of the fickle expresses the unselfconsciously merciful attitude of a person caught up in a gracious and humanly divine way of seeing.
The last two lines shift the level of focus to the Creator, mentioned at the outset, now described expressively: “He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change.” Although the thought of beauty “past change” might recall Plato’s idea of eternal beauty, the innovative verb, “fathers-forth,” evokes creative process. Although the last line is an imperative, grammatically speaking, it is more an invitation than a command; it is a natural and spontaneous culmination of the experience through which the poet has led us this far: “Praise him.”
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/eb/Gerard_Manley_Hopkins.jpg
Thank you, Jeff!! You teach beautifully. Much impressed. Just fell in love with the wording. Your presentation and explanation left me with a much deeper appreciation for this artform. Such ability to bring such awareness and such expression to one’s soul is a talent few of us possess, What a gift you have for this. You made me ‘feel’ at a higher level!
To feel at a higher level is to feel in the soul. I distinguish material emotions from feelings of soul . . . and sometimes the distinction is vividly clear.
Thank you, Jeff!! You teach beautifully. Much impressed. Just fell in love with the wording. Your presentation and explanation left me with a much deeper appreciation for this artform. Such ability to bring such awareness and such expression to one’s soul is a talent few of us possess, What a gift you have for this. You made me ‘feel’ at a higher level!
To feel at a higher level is to feel in the soul. I distinguish material emotions from feelings of soul . . . and sometimes the distinction is vividly clear.
Lovely post. It has me thinking about the relationship between charm and beauty. It seems like charm is a form of beauty, but I don’t think our everyday use of the words consistently reflects this (since beauty seems like a broader term but is often used in more specific ways in relationship to things with a certain grandeur and elegance). I guess I think of charm as an aspect of beauty where the emphasis is on a kind of warmth and playfulness, with something of a rough-hewn quality or perhaps a bit of slightly awkward extravagance. Wombats and baby elephants are immensely charming but I don’t think we’d be as prone to call them beautiful in the way that we would a gazelle or a swan. Similarly for a humble but well and warmly made cabin or cottage versus a Kyoto temple or a tasteful and refined country estate.
Carl, what a treasure to have this nicely philosophical comment! I think that the word “charm” serves partly as an alternative to using “beautiful” all the time. Sometimes we want to save the word “beauty” for something greater–say universe beauty–then charm puts what we humans can do its its place. We can embellish, we can rise to walking in beauty; but what we do does not compare with what the Creator does. And sometimes we use the word “beauty” with a generality that includes, encompasses, and transcends its various species.
Lovely post. It has me thinking about the relationship between charm and beauty. It seems like charm is a form of beauty, but I don’t think our everyday use of the words consistently reflects this (since beauty seems like a broader term but is often used in more specific ways in relationship to things with a certain grandeur and elegance). I guess I think of charm as an aspect of beauty where the emphasis is on a kind of warmth and playfulness, with something of a rough-hewn quality or perhaps a bit of slightly awkward extravagance. Wombats and baby elephants are immensely charming but I don’t think we’d be as prone to call them beautiful in the way that we would a gazelle or a swan. Similarly for a humble but well and warmly made cabin or cottage versus a Kyoto temple or a tasteful and refined country estate.
Carl, what a treasure to have this nicely philosophical comment! I think that the word “charm” serves partly as an alternative to using “beautiful” all the time. Sometimes we want to save the word “beauty” for something greater–say universe beauty–then charm puts what we humans can do its its place. We can embellish, we can rise to walking in beauty; but what we do does not compare with what the Creator does. And sometimes we use the word “beauty” with a generality that includes, encompasses, and transcends its various species.
The more I think about it, I think that a rough-hewn quality or a kind of pleasantly awkward extravagance are essential to what charm is, but frequently when we use the word those qualities are present. After all, it is possible (if not always common) for something or someone to be both elegant and grand as well as charming. Perhaps we tend to notice charm more when other aspects of beauty are not as present, but an appealing warmth is obvious.
The more I think about it, I think that a rough-hewn quality or a kind of pleasantly awkward extravagance are essential to what charm is, but frequently when we use the word those qualities are present. After all, it is possible (if not always common) for something or someone to be both elegant and grand as well as charming. Perhaps we tend to notice charm more when other aspects of beauty are not as present, but an appealing warmth is obvious.
I’ve always loved this poem, and our insights certainly add to its appreciation. And it is this idea of appreciation that I want to emphasize in my comment. In our language there are two ideas of ‘appreciation’ that come together. The first is what is most commonly considered when thinking of art appreciation, that being to understand the worth or value of something, hopefully compounded with enjoyment. The other is more often associated with finance, as in the appreciation of an investment — the growth in value. The two, I believe, are intimately connected, and even more these ideas are most apparently connected in the enjoyment with others. Your sharing of the poem allows it to increase in value as we all reflect upon it, just as if the (hopefully) delicious dinner that I cook increases in value in its sharing. Among other things, art appreciation connects a community; it appreciates the value of the work and the bond of the appreciators.
But more to the point about the poem. The appreciation its author emphasizes, I think, is one of pure beauty, as opposed to the kind of aesthetic appreciation that goes by the name of judgment, and which is more about disinterested interest — that mode of appreciation that is akin to judgment and cognition. Of course there is room for that, but is not there something powerful — spiritually powerful — about the upsurge of feeling that comes with the experience of beauty? There is a Zen poem, a line of which goes something like this: “If you want to know where the flowers come from, even the god of spring doesn’t know.” I’ve carried this poem in my memory for many years, and have found a great truth about it, as I do Pied Beauty. While it is important to be reflective, using our cognitive powers to understand our world, it is also important to let go of that and to just be in the world, to let whatever is, as it is, be, and just bask in it and love it.
Note: I meant to say “your insights”! But I’m sure that all of our insights add something, too! 🙂
You well know as a teacher, Charles, how vital each person’s contributions are!
Charles, I’m delighted to know of your long-time fondness for this poem!
I’ve always loved this poem, and our insights certainly add to its appreciation. And it is this idea of appreciation that I want to emphasize in my comment. In our language there are two ideas of ‘appreciation’ that come together. The first is what is most commonly considered when thinking of art appreciation, that being to understand the worth or value of something, hopefully compounded with enjoyment. The other is more often associated with finance, as in the appreciation of an investment — the growth in value. The two, I believe, are intimately connected, and even more these ideas are most apparently connected in the enjoyment with others. Your sharing of the poem allows it to increase in value as we all reflect upon it, just as if the (hopefully) delicious dinner that I cook increases in value in its sharing. Among other things, art appreciation connects a community; it appreciates the value of the work and the bond of the appreciators.
But more to the point about the poem. The appreciation its author emphasizes, I think, is one of pure beauty, as opposed to the kind of aesthetic appreciation that goes by the name of judgment, and which is more about disinterested interest — that mode of appreciation that is akin to judgment and cognition. Of course there is room for that, but is not there something powerful — spiritually powerful — about the upsurge of feeling that comes with the experience of beauty? There is a Zen poem, a line of which goes something like this: “If you want to know where the flowers come from, even the god of spring doesn’t know.” I’ve carried this poem in my memory for many years, and have found a great truth about it, as I do Pied Beauty. While it is important to be reflective, using our cognitive powers to understand our world, it is also important to let go of that and to just be in the world, to let whatever is, as it is, be, and just bask in it and love it.
Note: I meant to say “your insights”! But I’m sure that all of our insights add something, too! 🙂
You well know as a teacher, Charles, how vital each person’s contributions are!
Charles, I’m delighted to know of your long-time fondness for this poem!