John "Un-" Donne (1572-1631)
First of all, I must admit that I don't much care for John's poems.
But he's important to know--after all, he was the leader, so to speak, of the
metaphysical1 school of poetry and by all accounts, a nice guy.
He was described as a very charming and companionable person, even if he was raised
Catholic2. Though he attended the very prestigious universities of
Oxford and Cambridge3, he was unable to take a degree either place
because his family objected on religious grounds to the oath of allegiance all
graduates had to take. Undaunted, John began to study law in 1592, in hopes of
landing a state job, or perhaps even a court position4. He also
frittered away some of his time messing about with some poetry.
His introduction into the fast lane was rather slow in coming5.
It wasn't until 1597 that he finally got any kind of a job, and that was working
as secretary to Sir Thomas Egerton. Sir Thomas was a great and impressive statesman,
being Lord Keeper of the Great Seal6 and a real mover and shaker of
the times7. So naturally, if you were his secretary, eloping with his
niece would be a bad thing to do. Unfortunately, our hero did just that, running off
with and marrying Anne More, daughter of Sir George More and niece of Sir Thomas'
second wife. To make matters worse, Anne was underage, so her irate father promptly
had John arrested for marrying a minor without the consent of her
guardians8. He wrote his bride a despondent letter from prison,
ending it with "John Donne, Anne Donne, Un-done"9. John didn't stay
in prison long, but even when he got out, his old job was pretty much out of the
question. So he and his rapidly growing family10 lived mostly
in poverty for the next fourteen years.
John tried his best to make a living by writing poems for patrons, but he was really
too proud to be properly obsequious to these patrons. Finally, he succumbed to the
urgings of all his friends and relatives11 and became an ordained
minister of the Church of England in 1615. Just two years later, his beloved Anne
died12. Her death brought John's long-time obsession with death to
the surface13, and it showed in his sermons14 as well
as his poems. It also showed in the decor of his room. Shortly before his death in
1631, John obtained an urn, his own burial shroud, and an artist. Wrapping himself
in the shroud, John posed standing atop the urn and had the artist draw him a nice
charcoal sketch of himself. This macabre piece of artwork stayed at John's bedside
throughout his final illness.
John was a man very much torn between the worldly and the spiritual, and this really
shows in his poems15. He also felt the effects of his Catholic
upbringing all his life16. So things did not go smoothly for him.
But, thanks largely to T.S. Eliot, people are at least reading his stuff again.
- Don't worry, no one else knows what that means, either.
- England had been under the rule of the very Protestant Elizabeth I for fourteen years by the time John was born, so Catholic was once again a bad thing to be. But John couldn't help that.
- That sort of thing was all right back then, but nowadays I think it might be treasonous.
- Working for the government was pretty much just as cushy as it is today.
- He'd spent all of his inheritance just getting through all those schools.
- Don't ask.
- In the 1670's, Sir Thomas arranged the marriage of the future Mary II and William III, rulers of England. The happy couple were first cousins.
- John was just lucky that he'd become a Protestant by then, or there really would have been some fireworks.
- Cute huh?
- They produced twelve children.
- They may have just been tired of loaning him money.
- In childbirth, of course.
- John was greatly ahead of his time in this respect. You need to go all the way to John Keats, in the 1800's, to find another poet so obsessed with the Grim Reaper.
- The last sermon John ever gave was called Death's Duell, and six weeks after he preached it, sure enough, he was dead.
- Just compare "The Flea" with "The Exstacie" and you'll realize the stress he was under.
- How could he not?
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©1998-2014 Kevin MacLeod