In Cambridge in 1646, Daniel Heinsius published his Crepundia Siliana, a commentary on the Punica of Silius Italicus. At the very end of the book, a note from the printer to the reader states that in order ne detur vacuum (that no gap exist; n.pag. [312])1 in the book's last quire the decision has been made to include a poem. This poem is by Richard Crashaw, now best known for his religious poetry, both in English (in particular, the poems on St. Teresa and Mary Magdalene) and, to a lesser extent, in Latin. has not received much critical attention-in The Latin Poetry of English Poets, for example, which is still the standard work in the field, the entire chapter on Crashaw is devoted to his religious poems2-and the few critical discussions that do exist concentrate on the poem as a typical exam of the Baroque and analyze the hallucinogenic nature of the description. Such a focus is not misguided, since all readers of must be struck by the oddness of Crashaw's description. Here is a sample:Illic contiguis aquisMarcent pallidulae faces.Undae hic vena tenellulae,Flammis ebria proximisDiscit purpureas vias,Et rubro salit alveo. (lines 68-73)3There by the contiguous waters pale little torches droop. Here the vein of a very delicate wave full of the neighboring flames learns the purple paths and leaps from the red channel.Here is another one, even odder, from slightly later in the poem:Hic coeli implicitus labor,Orbes orbibus obvii;Hic grex velleris aureiGrex pellucidus aetheris;Qui noctis nigra pascuaPuris morsibus atterit (94-99)Here is the intricate labor of heaven: orbs are in the path of orbs; here the herd of the golden fleece is the pellucid herd of the ether; which wear down the black pasture of night in pure bites.While the first passage can be understood as an attempt to record the everchanging play of light and color on the surface of the bubble, the second might seem to belong to an elaborate mythological allegory.One way to illustrate the description is to say that the attempt to express something indescribable quickly spirals out of control; as Mario Praz observed, [i]n Bulla Crashaw aims at an effect which would seem attainable only by a painter (250). Following Praz, we could even say that the task Crashaw sets himself in the poem is doomed to fail from the outset. Of course, a writer as intelligent as Crashaw (and one who wrote so often and so well about the visual arts) would have been aware that his goal was unattainable. But while may not accurately describe a bubble, it could certainly be argued that it provides more information than a painting could: if we take as an example of the popular Renaissance debate over the respective merits of painting and poetry we could argue that poetry wins. In any case, the poem's failure to describe a bubble does not mean that the poem itself is a failure. For one thing, as the line I chose for the main title of this paper suggests, the result, however disorganized it may be, is beautiful and may in fact be beautiful because of its disorganization. Furthermore, in being a beautiful chaos, the poem resembles the bubble it describes and in that sense it could be said to be a success. Finally, we can also read as a poem about writing and, in particular, about scholarly writing: as a metacommentary, to return to the second part of my title. In this connection, we should note that the poem was originally printed in italics, like the rest of the critical apparatus but unlike the main text of the commentary.To see as a meta-commentary we have to take its original position as the conclusion of a book of commentary seriously and the best way to do so is to consider the original preface to the poem. The printer was Roger Daniel, who was the Cambridge University printer from 1632 to 1650, during which time he oversaw the publication of, among other books, the Bible, the first English edition of Bede's Latin Historiae Ecclesiastica (an edition that included the first printed edition of the Anglo-Saxon text ever), the first edition of George Herbert's The Temple, Justo Edovardo King Naufrago (the volume in which John Milton's Lycidas first appeared), and a previous book by Heinsius (Sacrarum excercitationum ad Novum Testamentum libri XX); in 1634, Daniel also published Crashaw's first book, Epigrammatum Sacrorum Liber. …
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