Browning's Shorter Poems

Browning As Poet

The three generations of readers who have lived since Browning's first

publication have seen as many attitudes taken toward one of the ablest

poetic spirits of the century. To the first he appeared an enigma, a

writer hopelessly obscure, perhaps not even clear in his own mind,

as to the message he wished to deliver; to the second he appeared a

prophet and a philosopher, full of all wisdom and subtlety, too deep

for common mortals to fathom with line and plummet,--concealing below

green depths of ocean priceless gems of thought and feeling; to the

third, a poet full of inequalities in conception and expression, who

has done many good things well and has made many grave failures.

No poet in our generation has fared so ill at the hands of the

critics. Already the Browning library is large. Some of the criticism

is good; much of it, regarding the author as philosopher and

symbolist, is totally askew. Reams have been written in interpretation

of _Childe Roland_, an imaginative fantasy composed in one day.

Abstruse ideas have been wrested from the simple story of _My Last

Duchess_. His poetry has been the stamping-ground of theologians

and the centre of prattling literary circles. In this tortuous maze of

futile criticism the one thing lost sight of is the fact that a poet

must be judged by the standards of art. It must be confessed, however,

that Browning is himself to blame for much of the smoke of commentary

that has gathered round him. He has often chosen the oblique

expression where the direct would serve better; often interpolated

his own musing subtleties between the reader and the life he would

present; often followed his theme into intricacies beyond his own

power to resolve into the simple forms of art. Thus it has come about

that misguided readers became enigma hunters, and the poet their

Sphinx.

The real question with Browning, as with any poet, is, What is his

work and worth as an artist? What of human life has he presented,

and how clear and true are his presentations? What passions, what

struggles, what ideals, what activities of men has he added to the art

world? What beauty and dignity, what light, has he created? How does

he view life: with what of hope, or aspiration, or strength? These

questions may be discussed under his sense and mastery of form, and

under his views of human life.

Browning's sense of form has often been attacked and defended. The

first impression upon reading him is of harshness amounting to the

grotesque. Rhymes often clash and jangle like the music of savages.

Such rhymes as