Commonplace Book

My themes are an unintentional but unambiguous record of my time in The English Renaissance. My focus on form is clear, with tags for analytical and argumentative writing as well as deviations, rhyme, and syntax. I came into the class with an appreciation for paradox and duality that nearly every work we read permitted me to develop further. That development is reflected clearly in my frequent tags of paradox, duality, contrast, and good vs. evil, as well as all the separately tagged dualities of joy/bliss/hope/pain/death/sex. I especially appreciate the two references to paradise in my entries, neither of which I wrote about Paradise Lost. I spoke often in class to the apparition of Paradise in utopias and other Renaissance narratives and I’m glad to see that insight reflected in my tags. 

The three papers I wrote this semester covered form, duality, paradox, emotion, and pain with special attention to rhyme, good vs. evil, and argumentative writing. I am so thankful for the opportunity to have written about what interests me, a gift not often given in the undergraduate setting. I am only a sophomore; this was my first upper-level English class (though I took American Drama in tandem this semester). My interests, honed as early as high school where I wrote sappy papers about love and obvious dualities in Life of Pi, have found a home in this class and the texts we read. I feel that I have become a more engaged and active reader and more thoughtful writer, but could not have done so had I not been permitted to focus and delight in what interests me. 

Analytical Writing (6)

Argumentative Writing (6)

Bliss (10)

Contrast (2)

Death (5)

Deviations (7)

Duality (2,3,5)

Good vs. Evil (2)

Helplessness (5)

Hope (1)

Imprisonment (9)

Innuendo (10)

Intentional Ambiguity (3)

Joy (1)

Love (5)

Nature (8)

Pain (5)

Paradise (8,10)

Paradox (1,3,5,10)

Problems in Utopia (9)

Rhyme (7)

Sex (10)

Syntax (6)

“...as there is not only room and place enough for Gardens, Orchards, Walks, Groves, Bowers, Arbors, Ponds, Fountains, Springs, and the like...”

For an establishment bent on separating men and women, the Convent of Pleasure is pretty damn sexualized.

First, and most obviously, it’s called “The Convent of Pleasure.” It supposedly preserves women from marriage, but contains within it the potential for pleasure -- sexual pleasure? Extraneous pleasure? What is pleasure, here? To meet it seems romantic/sexual, particularly since its leader enters into a romantic/sexual relationship while within the convent.

Second, it is a fortress that men attempt to penetrate. That’s an overt sexual image right there. 

Third, there is an obvious parallel to Eden illustrated in the above quote. “Bower” is the word that stuck out to me, as it hearkens back to Adam and Eve’s bower of bliss. What goes on in these bowers? We have to ask...

“When the king had forbidden to all his people navigation into any part that was not under his crown, he made nevertheless this ordinance; That every twelve years there should be set forth out of his kingdom two ships, appointed to several voyages.”

Bacon’s utopia mirrors Thomas More’s in that living only somewhat free and easy. Citizens of Bensalem are confined to Bensalem, allowed to venture outside its borders only on annual voyages -- if they are chosen for the two voyages, that is. The purpose of these journeys is admirable, as the king utilizes them to expand Bensalem’s intellectual purview and update his subjects on the goings-on of the world. Yet they are still restrictive, as most citizens of the island will never see the outside world for themselves. They will only read books, use instruments, or look over patterns; they will expect the full picture of the world, but they will hardly receive it. 

I found this paradoxical in light of the governor’s story, since he remarked upon how well-traveled and worldly the civilizations of old were, and how that contributed to their prosperity. Wouldn’t Bensalem imitate that model? Why would he bring it up, otherwise? 

The Faerie Queene, Canto VII

I tried to draw evil, adding in the conceptions of evil introduced in this canto. So far my tally of evil includes the three “sans” knights, the church robber, the seven-headed beast, Duessa, and the six other inhabitants of the House of Pride. I realize now that I forgot the giant, Archimago, and Error the dragon. 

“And also flowers, as the red and white damask rose, with other kinds; which are most beautiful and delightful, both to the sight and smell.”

I expected the repetitive descriptions of Virginia’s climate, soil, and fruits born by the land (supposedly without work). Those appeared in all of the texts we read for today, building the settlers’ case for further exploration and settlement in the territory. What I did not expect was this inclusion, wherein Whitborne discusses the flowers abundant in the land. Flowers are not useful; they aid neither farming nor settlement, the ultimate goals of the explorers. They are merely beautiful, a fact which Whitborne includes in his defense of Virginia. They inspire delight and pleasure, much like the lush growth of Paradise. 

The Faerie Queene, Canto VII

“love...prove,” “roses...posies,” “move...love,” and “sing...morning” from The Passionate Shepherd and His Love by Christopher Marlowe

I might be more attuned to rhyme than most, since I just wrote a paper on minute deviations of rhyme scheme in Paradise Lost. However, I can’t imagine any reader would miss the problematic rhyme scheme of Christopher Marlowe’s The Passionate Shepherd and His Love.

The Faerie Queene, Canto VI

“So that, since the excellencies of it may be so easily and so justly confirmed, and the low-creeping objections so soon trodden down - it not being an art of lies, but of true doctrine; not of effeminateness, but of notable stirring of courage; not of abusing man’s wit; not banished, but honored, by Plato - let us rather plant more laurels for to engarland the poets’ heads...”

The Defense of Poesy aptly reads like a strong analytical essay. 

It begins with a strong introduction

It introduces each of its supporting arguments

It hearkens back to the central thesis with each point

It acknowledges and cleverly refutes counter-arguments

It concludes with an empowered and far-reaching admonition -- that all should read and support poetry

I took writing classes in middle school. I learned about the formulaic and thankfully bygone five-paragraph essay structure. I learned how to write a thesis, I learned how to pull quotes, and I learned how to force all my thoughts into a coherent 1-15 pages, depending on the assignment. I think.

It seems like Phillip (Mary) Sidney learned how, too. The above quote appears in the middle of the defense, but hearkens back to the introduction and central theme in an obvious and yet thoroughly necessary manner. It stuck out to me because it made sense -- it oriented me in this writing AND reminded me of my own writing, in which I always try to remind my reader of what they should be getting out of my work. 

The Faerie Queene, Canto V

“Fly, fly, my friends, I have my death wound; fly!”