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  1. The Pre-Raphaelites
  2. The Prince's Progress and Other Poems | Revolvy
  3. Poetry by Christina Rossetti

Labels: Amazon , crime fiction , novels , publishing , Self-publishing , Victorian. Labels: crime fiction , detectives , Series , Victorian , writer , writing. Saturday, 12 November Remembrance Day. Saturday, 5 November Stolen Childhoods. Labels: Child Poverty , childhood , poverty , William Blake. Friday, 28 October Men are From Mars. Saturday, 22 October Lost in Translation. Labels: novels , writer , writing. Saturday, 24 September Inspiration or Perspiration?

So here we are, almost the end of September, and I am trying not to put the central heating on, as last year I spent my meagre heating allowance at least 20 time over. The price of oil is supposed to be lower than at any time over the past few years, yet I spend every penny I earn on keeping warm enough to earn the money to spend on keeping warm.

As writers, we are often asked well, I am how the creative process of writing a book happens. What I think people desperately want to hear is the apocryphal Enid Blyton response on the lines of: I just wander into my little writing place, and suddenly, all sorts of lovely characters and plots tiptoe through the mental bluebells straight into my mind fully formed, and all I have to do is write them down and hey presto!

In other words, writing is easy and you, interested interlocutor, could easily do it too. Sorry, it doesn't work like that.

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At least not for this little duck. In another of these paradoxes, I find that creativity only occurs when disciplinary structures are applied.

The Pre-Raphaelites

In other words, I have to make myself sit at the keyboard, regularly, and write. I can fantasize about the book all I want, imagine the amazing prose that I will write when I get round to it, but until my rear end and the chair are brought into contact, and remain in contact for long periods of time, nothing creative happens. Sure, there are moments, and flashes of inspiration, when one stares at the screen, and wonders whether the Writing Fairy has just made a house call, but on the whole, these episodes only tend to emerge out of a period of just slogging away at the writing process.

And I should know, having just topped 70 thousand words of the next Victorian novel, purely by dint of making myself sit down at the eMac every day and write it. An article in the Guardian recently lifted the lid on how to be a successful author. No secret, sadly. A lot of labour and a bit of luck. Heavy on the former. As Wm Blake remarked: Without contraries is no progression.

Ain't that the truth! Labels: Amazon , ebooks , publishing , Self-publishing. Saturday, 10 September Ellis or Emily? Does Your Writing Name Matter?

The Prince's Progress and Other Poems | Revolvy

Now what? Labels: book publicity , British detectives , publishing , social media , Victorian crime fiction , writing. Saturday, 20 August Cover me! Thanks but no thanks. My covers are designed by designer and friend Gina Dickinson, thus adding an extra personal dimension to them. Alone by day, alone by night, alone days without end; My father and my mother give me treasures, search and spend — O my father!

O my mother! He has quarrelled with his neighbours, he has scourged his foes; Vassal counts and princes follow where his pennon goes, Long-descended valiant lords whom the vulture knows. On who track the vulture swoops, when they ride in state To break the strength of armies and topple down the great; Each of these my courteous servant, none of these my mate.

My father counting up his strength sets down with equal pen So many head of cattle, head of horses, head of men; These for slaughter, these for breeding, with the how and when. Once it came into my heart, and whelmed me like a flood, That these too are men and women, human flesh and blood; Men with hearts and men with souls though trodden down like mud.

I sat beside them sole princess in my exalted place, My ladies and my gentlemen stood by me on the dais; A mirror showed me I look old and haggard in the face;. The singing men and women sang that night as usual, The dancers danced in pairs and sets, but music had a fall, A melancholy windy fall as at a funeral. Amid the toss of torches to my chamber back we swept; My ladies loosed my golden chain; meantime I could have wept To think of some in galling chains whether they waked or slept.

I took my bath of scented milk, delicately waited on, They burned sweet things for my delight, cedar and cinnamom, They lit my shaded silver lamp, and left me there alone. A day went by, a week went by. So two whispered by my door, not thinking I could hear, Vulgar naked truth, ungarnished for a royal ear; Fit for cooping in the background, not to stalk so near. A merry jest, a merry laugh, each strolled upon his way; One was my page, a lady I reared and bore with day by day; One was my youngest maid as sweet and white as cream in May. These passed.

The king: stand up. He too left me. Shall I touch my harp now while I wait, — I hear them doubling guard below before our palace gate - Or shall I work the last gold stitch into my veil of state;. There swelled a tumult at the gate, high voices waxing higher; A flash of red reflected light lit the cathedral spire; I heard a cry for faggots, then I heard a yell for fire. Nay, this thing will I do, while my mother tarrieth, I will take my fine spun gold, but not to sew therewith, I will take my gold and gems, and rainbow fan and wreath;.

Once to speak before the world, rend bare my heart and show The lesson I have learned which is death, is life, to know, I, if I perish, perish; in the name of God I go.

Poetry by Christina Rossetti

Click through the tabs below to explore my analysis of different aspects of the poem. This was written in , but it was only published in at the height of the American Civil War. Whether the poem was inspired by an earlier crisis or history, it found resonance with English cotton workers at the time it was published. The theme can be appreciated universally, regardless of time period, as the oppression or exploitation of the poor. The resulting shortage of cotton had dramatic implications for cotton workers as huge numbers of mills closed down and left their workers unemployed.

They went from being the most prosperous towns to being some of the most impoverished, often the authorities were seen as not doing enough to support their citizens and several riots followed. However, there were a number of charities or committees set up to raise funds and support cotton workers. The poem was published in an anthology featuring work from a range of poets, that was sold in order to support these charities at the height of this crisis.

Miss Me But Let Me Go - Anonymous - WW1 ? - Poem - Animation

We have a clear political message about society where Rossetti positions the ruling elite as cruel and uncaring, luxuriating while the working population struggle. In addition to this we have a clear message about the meaning of life and a clear suggestion that wealth and privilege do not necessarily equate to happiness, while a more modest existence is more connected with contentment. Alongside any political message or idea, we have a strong link to gender and the qualities of womankind. Our princess also highlights the problems with treating women as simply wives and daughters, as she is isolated from life and confined from happiness.

I will break this up into discussions of four stanzas at a time so you can keep a track of my points. Stanzas The opening two stanzas describes the princess in relation to all her privileges and riches, but contrasts this with her feeling of being entrapped of joy and life. Surrounded by guards at all times she is unable to find freedom to fulfill her dreams or experience life. She is to be trapped as an innocent and pure girl forever seemingly. She is isolated from others as a result of her wealth and status, just as her father stands above all else as king, she feels she stands apart and cannot fit.

Clearly he has got to the top through being ruthless and determined, fighting his neighbours and being recognised as being the top dog thanks only to his military might. His followers now are seen as being suppressed, but also as opportunists who would turn against the king in a second, if it was in their interests. Stanzas All those the king has conquered have become servants as a result of his ruthlessness, but not friends. No wonder, when in the tenth stanza he considers men as a resource, alongside animals, to be used as and when he pleases and with no especial consideration. They are worked hard and seemingly in similar ways to the animals.

Stanzas Now we return to the castle and see a scene of opulence in their feast, but not matched by cheered spirits. The whole royal family seem consumed by their worries and cares and the princess feels prematurely aged by her misery,. In contrast, she notices her maids all looking pretty happy and imagines their lives being filled with romance, laughter and contented sleep.


In her privileged circle they have dancing and music, but no one seems to have high spirits or joy. Stanzas She returns to her room after her dinner and has her maid help her undress. While a necklace is removed, she ponders the misery of those her father has imprisoned permanently with chains and feels a sense of guilt. Stanza eighteen once more presents the luxury of her existence to serve as a contrast to the lives of the ordinary people that she is beginning to sympathy with and wish to be a part of.

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In the next two stanzas things start to get interesting. We learn that the people are starving on the streets. The guards rather nastily compare them to dogs, this zoomorphism is a recurring idea in the poem. Stanzas The princess continues listening and again the zoomorphic comments continue. Now some heavier steps are heard outside, presumably guards or male servants.

The other suggests that they need to be brutal and mow them down. Stanzas They continue to reveal the truth of what is going on outside the castle. Peasants are fighting with each other in order to keep alive, stealing bread from the mouths of others who are starving.

The guards now laugh that the peasants will need to do without this support and are unwilling to share anything but their crumbs with the peasants. As they depart the king arrives and wants to shut away the princess with the queen to keep them out-of-the-way as the fighting begins in earnest.

Our princess is none to happy about being asked to go on as if nothing is happening, continuing the indolent and luxurious hobbies of royalty: harping and sewing gold lace. Stanzas Stanza twenty-nine continues the list of ridiculously relaxed activities they could do, while a crisis erupts. This list serves to illustrate how ridiculous their lack of exposure to the reality of the world is; they are supposed to continue as if nothing is happening, while the poor starve and riot.

The princess hears her father barking orders to suppress the rebels.