Happy Birthday John Keats!

A thing of beauty is a joy forever:

Its loveliness increases;
It will never
Pass into nothingness.

On 31st of October in 1975 a legend was born in Moorgate, London.

I first came across this amazing English Romantic poet in my second year of high school when we had "Ode on a Grecian Urn" in our syllabus. I gradually found interest in his poems among which 'Ode to a nightingale' is my favorite and as many frenzied literary addicts I too had a crush on him until I read his letters & works that mentioned Fanny Brawne and their relationship without commitments. I once happened to hear my friend discussing about doppelganger deaths of English poets in the eighteenth century, John Keats was one among them- this lead me to research more about him, his life style and his death. I always had a sympathy for him because he died at a very young age of twenty five. The more I read his literary works, the more I lived through his life. He had to struggle himself to stay away from debts yet he dropped his medical profession to do what he loves in life, to write poetry. His first extant poem was written in 1814, "An imitation of Spencer" when he was just 19 yrs old. There are areas of his life and daily routine that Keats does not describe. He mentions little about his childhood or his financial straits and is seemingly embarrassed to discuss them. There is a total absence of any reference to his parents. In his last year, as his health deteriorated, his concerns often gave way to despair and morbid obsessions which obviously lead to many criticisms.

He published only fifty-four poems but took on the sonnet, the Spenserian romance, and the Milton epic. He redefined their possibilities with his energy. Conflicting perspectives and forces, poetic self-consciousness and dry ironic wit. He took the English ode to its most perfect definition. Though his works weren't appreciated when he was alive. It gained lot of attention after his death. 

John Keats died in Rome on 23 February 1821 and was buried in the Protestant Cemetery, Rome.His last request was to be placed under a tombstone bearing no name or date, only the words, "Here lies One whose Name was writ in Water." His last words to Severn who nursed him at deathbed was 'Severn—I—lift me up—I am dying—I shall die easy; don't be frightened—be firm, and thank God it has come.' I always wondered how come people knew it was time for them to depart? And Keats have reflected his doppelganger experiences in his works during the weeks before his death. Death is a mystery. Lot of artistic men seem to have doppelganger episodes before they all ended up dead. Is that a mystery to unfold or the creative part of brain playing its final game?

Shelley wrote a despairing elegy, stating that Keats' early death was a personal and public tragedy:

'The loveliest and the last,
The bloom, whose petals nipped before they blew
Died on the promise of the fruit.'

As Keats always said "if poetry comes not as naturally as the Leaves to a tree it had better not come at all". But it was quite evident that his initial works were all an amateur attempts and he had to try hard to enhance his poetic skills. This criticism about Keats had influenced me not to publish my first Novel. I don't know if that was a good decision or not but I was quite sure that I didn't want readers to judge my capability since I was just 16 when I wrote my first novel. I knew I need more exposure to life and experiences to be a better writer. 

Let me mention few of my favorite explanations Keats gave for the phrases he used. Keats explored the idea of the world as "the vale of Soul-making" And he described The poetical mind as,

has no self – it is every thing and nothing – It has no character – it enjoys light and shade;... What shocks the virtuous philosopher, delights the camelion [chameleon] Poet. It does no harm from its relish of the dark side of things any more than from its taste for the bright one; because they both end in speculation. A Poet is the most unpoetical of any thing in existence; because he has no Identity – he is continually in for – and filling some other Body – The Sun, the Moon, the Sea and Men and Women who are creatures of impulse are poetical and have about them an unchangeable attribute – the poet has none; no identity – he is certainly the most unpoetical of all God's Creatures.

He used the term 'negative capability' to discuss the state in which we are "capable of being in uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts without any irritable reaching after fact & reason ...[Being] content with half knowledge" where one trusts in the heart's perceptions. He later wrote: "I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of Imagination – What the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth – whether it existed before or not – for I have the same Idea of all our Passions as of Love they are all in their sublime, creative of essential Beauty" 

His reply to the question of 'How it feels to be a poet' is "My Imagination is a Monastery and I am its Monk"

The Seven Best John Keats Quotes

1. The problems of the world cannot possibly be solved by sceptics or cynics whose horizons are limited by the obvious realities. We need men who can dream of things that never were.
2. I want a brighter word than bright.
3. We read fine things but never feel them to the full until we have gone the same steps as the author.
4. Here lies one whose name was writ in water.
5. If poetry comes not as naturally as the leaves to a tree it had better not come at all.
6. You speak of Lord Byron and me; there is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees I describe what I imagine. Mine is the hardest task.
7. If I should die, I have left no immortal work behind me — nothing to make my friends proud of my memory — but I have loved the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remembered.