Poesy Part I: Crinkly Feelings, Latin Phrases, and Mustard Gas

Dear readers,
"Don't you just love poetry that gives you a crinkly feeling up and down your back?"
Yes! Do you!? 
The character, Anne Shirley's, inspirited musing gives voice to my own - though minimal - experience with poetry. 
With that said, it is with great felicity and flourish that I present to you a series of posts that will forthwith feature some of my favourite poems (I'm on an alliteration role!)! 
They are just a smattering of verses; poems that I can read time and again without becoming immune to their profundity and the captivating beauty of their words - the way they dance on the end of my tongue, and create a mosaic of colour and emotion in my mind's eye.


The first poem I shall share with you deals with the agonies and horrors of the First World War, and is written by leading British war poet, Wilfred Owen, who was killed at the age of twenty-five on the Front, only a week before the Armistice. The majority of his work was published posthumously.

Dulce et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, 

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs 

And towards our distant rest began to trudge. 

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots 

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; 

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots 

Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind. 

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling, 

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; 

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling 

And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime... 

Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light, 

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. 

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, 

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. 

Close up of a gas victim in a painting
I saw at the Canadian War Museum (2013).

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace 

Behind the wagon that we flung him in, 

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, 

His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin; 

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood 

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, 

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud 

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,— 

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest 

To children ardent for some desperate glory, 

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est 

Pro patria mori.*

* "It is sweet and right to die for your country." A Latin phrase from an Ode by Horace, often quoted during the War.

If you're interested in delving deeper into this gripping and haunting poem, feel free to peruse some of the sites I've included here below...

• http://www.enotes.com/topics/dulce-et-decorum-est/in-depth
• http://www.shmoop.com/dulce-et-decorum-est/
• http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/owen1.html

Introduction to an Epic

"There is a prospect greater than the sea, and it is the sky; there is a prospect greater than the sky, and it is the human soul. To make a poem of the human conscience, even in terms of a single man and the least of men, would be to merge all epics in a single epic transcending all."

Victor Hugo's (1802-1885) passionate and thought-provoking words are worth relishing and reflecting upon... Just consider, dear reader...  If it is impossible to understand the human soul, how much more difficult is it to comprehend the vastness and magnificence of the Creator of the soul?! 
Hugo endeavored to portray the reality of his own musings by writing a book about the "human conscience" and a "single man's" life. It is an introspective journey of pain, darkness, redemption, sorrow, and light. 
Since my first introduction to this daunting tome a few years ago, it has remained one of my favourite classics. Can you guess what it is? Les Misérables - a rather difficult title to pronounce - which can be translated as The Miserable Ones, The Wretched, or The Underdogs.

Hugo's insight and ability to put many aspects of the human condition into words is remarkable. Norman Denny, a translator of Hugo's work writes, 

"Les Misérables with its depth of vision and underlying truth, its moments of lyrical quality and of moving compassion, is a novel of towering stature, one of the great works of western literature, a melodrama that is also a morality and a social document embracing a wider field than any other novel of its time." 

Cosette

Set against the backdrop of 19th Century France, Les Misérables tells the tale of Jean Valjean, a man cast from society, sentenced to nineteen years of hard labour after stealing a loaf of bread and sequential attempts to escape. He is released a calloused man - free from the chain and the lash, but not from the law or the hatred and darkness that grips his soul.
After a pivotal encounter with a bishop, Valjean "looks at the picture of his life...and of his own soul, hideous in its ugliness," and weeps (I imagine much as Peter wept after he had denounced Jesus three times). The ex-convict's tears turn to those of a freed man as the burden of his sin is lifted and he receives God's grace. Taking on a new identity, he becomes a successful and benevolent mayor. But then his past rears its ugly head and he must wrestle within the depths of his heart and conscience to decide how he will respond. The dilemma will have unprecedented affects on himself and a multitude of others.
Les Mis is not only concerned with the internal struggle (man against God, and man against himself) but also the social one (man against man). France is restless, the poor are voiceless, and the idealism's of the Revolution are ripe for revival. Valjean finds himself caught in the epicentre of the conflict. Now as the loving guardian of a beautiful young girl named Cosette - the "little lark" - he is consumed with his desire to care for her forever and protect her from his past, but blossoming love may serve to alter his newly found purpose. Not only do unsettling reappearances of the rogue Thenardier bring upheaval to Valjean's life, but he continues to be hunted by Javert, an Inspector of Police whose adherence to the law leaves no room for mercy to others - or himself. 
Though Valjean is the central figure of the novel, the characters surrounding him (some of which I've already mentioned) are equally profound and fascinating...
The beautiful and tragic Fantine who falls into degradation in order to keep her daughter alive...
Marius, a romantic, idealistic young man...
Enjolras, a principled, and daring Revolutionary, surrounded by young men whose desire for liberty and equality will send them to their early graves...
Eponine, a ragged girl whose unobserved, sacrificial love will save the lives of many...
Gavroche, a quick-witted, courageous young urchin who calls the streets of Paris his mother and fights alongside the Revolutionaries...

Statue of Gavroche and his two younger brothers. Valetta, Malta.

Despite the beauty and depth of Hugo's work, his writing style is far from perfect - Les Mis is accused by the same translator as being, "loaded down with digressions, interpolated discourses, passages of moralizing rhetoric" and many other "sins" of the novelist writer.
In fact, the first advice I received when beginning to read this book was to skip the first few chapters!
Hugo certainly "says everything, and more than everything." Not only do you get very detailed historical accounts - most notably, the Battle of Waterloo - but you tour the hidden world of a nunnery, climb into the cesspit of the Paris sewers, and hear many eloquent speeches on politics and the ideals prevalent of the time.
And yet, there is something beautiful and almost assuring about these wanderings that helped me surmount his rabbit-trails and kept me from skipping, despite the passages on politics and religion that I either disagreed with or found difficult to understand. They cement a vivid picture in the minds eye and contribute to the realism of the story. The apparent "coincidences" and incidences all connect and entwine, conferring one of the many themes evident throughout: There is something - Someone - at work in our lives, orchestrating both the grand historical events, and the seemingly insignificant meetings, happenings and decisions.

When Les Misérables was first published in 1862, it captured an enormous audience of diverse social backgrounds, particularly the poor. It acknowledged their plight in ways contrary to any other piece of literature. People were drawn to sympathize and relate with the characters. Fantine is an illustration of the suffering of women, as well as sacrifice made for one's child, Cosette and Gavroche are the faces of waifs and strays - innocence and lost innocence - Valjean not only exemplifies imprisoned, broken men, ostracized forever from society, but hope and redemption, and Marius stands as an illustration of a wandering soul. Hugo wished to impress the cry of the poor and homeless into people's hearts, so often lost in the clamour of life's events. In no way have these themes and characters lost their potency; they still impact an immense audience - maybe none more so than now.

Les Mis remains the longest running Broadway musical in history, and was recently made into an award winning movie in 2012. Though the musical is not wholly true to the novel, it is a masterpiece in its own way. Musical scores such as Bring Him Home, I Dreamed a Dream, Who Am I?, On My Own, Stars, and One Day More, capture and bring to light the overarching themes and sentiments of the story. I find it inspiriting and refreshing to consider that God could not be erased from such a world renowned drama. It would be a meaningless story without Him!

Within Les Misérables, Hugo gave a summary of his intentions and aspirations for his masterpiece...

"The book which the reader now holds in his hands, from one end to the other... treats the advance from evil to good, from injustice to justice, from falsity to truth, from darkness to daylight, from blind appetite to conscience, from bestiality to duty, from Hell to Heaven, from Limbo to God..."

There is so much more I could say, but I will leave it at that and allow you to discover it for yourself if you wish, and conclude with a trailer of the musical... 

Ballet, Then and Now

I love this photo. Not only is it unexpected and amusing, but it gets an important point across (no pun intended).

Ballerina's are athletes.

In fact ballerina's and football players are considered to tolerate the same amount of pain in their respective sports, as well as to maintain the same kind of discipline.

As I spent quite a few years in ballet myself, I have a great appreciation for the athleticism and artistry of this dance form; the gracefulness and precision of the movements, the poised and powerful strength of the body, and the romantic, classical elements of the music and performances.

I was first enraptured by the magic of ballet and inspired to be a ballerina when my mom took me at the age of seven to see, The Nutcracker, performed by the Alberta Ballet. I even had my picture taken with the Nutcracker Prince!

I dreamed of being a professional ballerina and dancing on pointe, and though I have never reached either of my childhood goals, my years in dance are far from being a waste. They were extremely meaningful; a foundation for so much more. Ballet taught me discipline and perseverance, gave me an ear for rhythm, instilled within me a love for classical music, and most importantly, revealed to me that I can use dance to worship God!

In light of my passion for dance, I thought it would be interesting, dear readers, to take a little trip into the world of ballet.

Here's a short introduction to begin - an interview with a leading American ballerina, Misty Copeland.

 

So where did ballet originate?

1300's - 1500's: Ballet (Balletto or ballo meaning "to dance") begins to take form as an elegant court dance during the Italian Renaissance.

1600's: King Louis XIV of France (also known as the Sun King) takes ballet as his own and transforms it into a grandiose art. He names the steps (plié, soussus, pirouette, arabesque, fondu, grande jete, etc.), uses it to enhance fencing, and dances in many performances himself along with his courtiers. 

1700's -1800's: Ballet continues to flourish. Begins to look like the ballet we see and dance today.

1900's: France's ballets becomes rather "stagnant and predictable." Russians take the art and breath life into it once again. This is what we call classical ballet (to this day, Russian ballerina's are often considered the best). Britain and America follow in Russia's footsteps and begin establishing their own ballet schools and companies.

Present Day: Classical ballet is still taught and performed worldwide, but choreographers and teachers are branching out to include modern, aesthetic movements and stories (neoclassical).

Note: I didn't want to overwhelm my readers with clips of dancers (there are so many!), but if you have time I would highly suggest watching this interesting video which gives a great visual of how ballet has changed over the centuries.

Okay, now that we've traveled briefly through the history of ballet, we're going to tour the studio where the ballerina's are practicing and then rendezvous over to the theatre for a night of music, art, and culture. 

 

In the Studio

Variation from Giselle: 

This clip demonstrates the drive, technique, and practice a dancer needs in order to perform.

Here follows some of the hardest moves of the profession...

On Stage

Odile's Coda from Swan Lake:

Notice in particular the height of the man's jumps, and the stamina and balance of the woman.

Isn't the set magnificent?

Dance of the Cygnets from Swan Lake:

By far one of my favourite variations. Their precision and grace as a team is beautiful!

Kitri Variation from Don Quixote: 

Such an elegant and flamboyant dance! 

I hope you enjoyed the show!

Resources
Timeline of Ballet: www.coreofculture.org/ballet.html

A Walk with William Wordsworth

Poetry is considered by many as the most challenging form of writing to read and decipher; and understandably. The art refrains from using many grammatical rules, while making use of "aesthetic and rhythmic" words that often endeavour to evoke difficult emotions, thoughts, and sensations that are inexpressible in prose. The word "poem" itself derives from the Greek, poesis, meaning, "hard to measure." 

In order for a reader to fully "measure" a poem - in other words, comprehend and appreciate the depth of the verse - they must take the time to read and reread; to taste and to savor.  

One of the first steps in executing a thorough (and enjoyable) poetry analysis, is to meet the author; learn about his or her childhood, beliefs, struggles, and successes. This will in turn give dimension and context to the poem.

  
Wait! Did you say analysis!?

Yes, I know that the word "analysis" is often associated with long hours of dull, eye-straining research and endeavours to painstakingly dissect long pieces of writing, but there is another way of looking at it...

Analysis is defined as, "a method of studying the nature of something or determining its essential features and their relations," and though I cannot change the definition itself, I can hearten analyzers to do one simple thing: use their imaginations! 
Think of analyzing as a friendly, intimate walk with the poet or speaker of the poem. As you stroll along you chat candidly. They share with you their thoughts; a funny anecdote from their day, a deep question they've been struggling to answer about the mysteries of life and humanity, or maybe even a deep and painful sorrow. This is personal and meaningful. You have the opportunity to talk, ask questions, and sympathize with them, and they in turn can offer you encouragement or comfort. 
Or think of it as digging for buried treasure and finding a multifaceted diamond. As you examine it, you discover new angles by which it catches the light.
But enough with the metaphors and similes! Let's take the first step in our analyzing journey by meeting the poet... 

William Wordsworth

William was born in the scenic Lake District of England, on 7 April, 1770. He was the second oldest of five children, all of whom, sadly, did not have a strong relationship with their father due to his business excursions that kept him preoccupied and away from home for long periods of time. When his mother died in 1778, William was sent to Grammar school, while Dorothy, his younger and dearest sister, was sent to live with relatives (it would be nine years before they were reunited). These painful events were only intensified when their father died a few years later, leaving William and his siblings orphans. 
The years spent in Grammar school were difficult ones for young William, but it was there that his love for poetry began to emerge and his own hand at verse began to assert itself. 
In 1790, William set out on a walking tour of Europe, where he fell in love with the revolutionary ideologies of France and had an affair with a French girl named Annette. 
On his return to England, he lived with his sister Dorothy and began writing poetry with his close friend Samuel Taylor Coleridge (maybe you've read his poem, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner?). According to a short biography on Wordsworth, these men were pivotal in "launching the Romantic era of English literature," inventing, "a new style of poetry in which nature and the diction of the common man trumped formal, stylized language." 
It goes on to say that, 

"Even in the nineteenth century, Wordsworth felt that the world was 'too much with us' - too fast-paced, too noisy, too full of mindless entertainment. He wanted to create poetry that reunited readers with true emotions and feelings. When he wrote about a field of daffodils, he didn't want you just to think about it - he wanted you to feel those flowers, to feel the breeze against your skin and the sense of peace this sight brought to your soul."

William continued to write and travel (briefly visiting and providing for his mistress and their daughter, Caroline, in France after the Reign of Terror) before settling down and marrying a childhood friend, Mary Hutchinson, in 1802. They had five children, two of whom died in infancy.
One of William Wordsworth's greatest ambitions was to write poetry in the "common speech." In this he succeeded and continued to do until his death in 1850. He is also credited with making England's beautiful Lake District famous. He would wander throughout the "vales and hills" of the countryside he loved and compose poems. The Prelude, considered by many to be his greatest work, was published posthumously by his wife.
  

And now for the moment we've all been waiting for... the poem! (Try reading it aloud!)

I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

and twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretch in never-ending line

along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves with glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

in such a jocund company:

I gazed - and gazed - but little thought

what wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

A Short Analysis

On the 15 April, 1802, Dorothy, William's sister, wrote in her diary,

"When we were in the woods beyond Gowbarrow Park we saw a few daffodils close to the water side... But as we went along there were more and yet more and at last under the boughs of the trees, we saw that there was a long belt of them along the shore... I never saw daffodils so beautiful... Some rested their heads upon... stones as on a pillow for weariness and the rest tossed and reeled and danced and seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind that blew upon them over the Lake, they looked so gay, ever glancing, ever changing." 

This is the memorable walk that William would immortalize in his poem. He paints such a delicate and "jocund" picture, with his sprightly end-rhymes and verbs ("fluttering," "dancing," "sparkling")! It is a poem reveling in imagery, similes (the flowers are likened to the stars) and personification ("lonely as a cloud"). 
I can imagine William standing in blissful awe amidst the daffodils, soaking in the beautiful sight in silence by Dorothy's side, and then running home and composing this poem before the fire in an impulsive fervor of artistic inspiration, while his sister leans contentedly over her open diary, the sound of her feather pen, accompanying his own. 
But it didn't happen that way. 
It would be over two years before he wrote about the event.
So the question I ask is... why? Why did he write about a simple walk that had taken place two years before?
The answer brings us to one of the poem's major themes... The beauty of memory.
In the last stanza, Wordsworth writes, "For oft when on my couch I lie/ In vacant or in pensive mood/ They flash upon that inward eye/ Which is the bliss of solitude."
We have all felt at one time or another as "lonely as a cloud." Possibly discouraged, or dismal, and distant from the world. But then suddenly we are struck by the beauty of nature, or maybe even the kindness of`a person and awakened from our brooding mood. Later as we recollect the experience it becomes a cherished memory; a beautiful gift.
Wordsworth understood this, as well as the fact that it is a gift that keeps on giving; a gift of memory and imagination; unhindered by time or place. While in a "pensive mood," he recollects the beauty of the walk taken two years before, and is encouraged. "My heart with pleasure fills," he writes, "And dances with the daffodils."
It was impossible for Wordsworth to keep this "wealth" to himself, so he penned a poem, capturing a moment in time and thus sharing this treasure of creation with all of us... even those of us living in 2015, over 200 years later!
Can you see the daffodils "flash(ing) upon (your) inward eye"?

Though Wordsworth does not acknowledge God in his poem, I cannot help but consider the fact that He is the Composer and Conductor of the daffodils in "sprightly dance." They are "tossing their heads" gleefully in worship to Him (the ultimate Poet), which makes the event all the more awe-inspiring! 

"...The mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands." Isaiah 55:12

"For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made..." Romans 1:20

Before I end this lengthy "wandering", I would encourage you to consider: 
What beautiful memories uplift your spirits or encourage your soul, and why? 

I hope that such memories bring us to look beyond the event itself and at our Lord, the Creator of "golden daffodils," and that they increase our love for Him and imbue us with a greater knowledge of His Magnificence!


Resources

"Dictionary." Dictionary.com. n.d. Web. 15 Jan. 2015.

Metaxas, Eric. Amazing Grace. Harper Collins. New York, 2007. Print.

"Poet: William Wordsworth." Poets. Academy of American Poets. n.d. Web. 13 Jan. 2015.

Shmoop Editorial Team. "I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud." Shmoop. Shmoop University, Inc. Web. 13 Jan. 2015.

"William Wordsworth." Wikipedia. Wikipedia. 9 Jan. 2015. Web. 13 Jan 3015.

Sit Back and Enjoy the Show!

Charlie Chaplin (1889-1977) is undoubtedly the greatest personality of the silent film era. He was a genius filmmaker and actor who "gave pleasure and relief to so many human beings when they needed it most." Best known for his character "The Tramp" who sported a bowler hat, large shoes, and an iconic mustache, he added a new dimension to comic film and influenced the movie industry in unprecedented ways.
Not only do I enjoy his movies from a historical perspective, but I savour their artistry; how they transport me to the events taking place, and make me smile and laugh - without words.
Here are five of my favourite scenes from his movies... So sit back and enjoy the show!

#5 - Shoulder Arms: The Awkward Squad (1918)

Consider how this comical representation of soldiers training for the Western Front would have lightened the hearts of those who watched it during the long, dark days of World War I.

#4 -The Kid: Window Repairs (1921)

A touching story of a tramp who raises a child he finds on the street.

#3 - Modern Times: The Eating Machine (1936)

So many industrial changes had and were continuing to take place around the world. Charlie puts a comical spin on things.

#2 - The Klondike: Thanksgiving Dinner (1925)

Chaplin's portrayal of the Canadian Gold Rush (1896-1899). Doesn't the shoe look real? Thankfully it was only made of licorice!
Just ignore the weird ending to this video, after the actual clip :)

#1 - The Circus: The Lion's Cage (1928)

What else can I say? Such a great scene!

Have you ever watched any of Charlie Chaplin's films? If so, why not share about some of your favourite scenes!

If not, I would encourage you to try watching one of his films. You won't be disappointed!

Why Do We Remember...?

War Cemetery in Ottawa, 2013

The German novel, All Quiet on the Western Front, begins with a short but powerful inscription:

"This book is to be neither an accusation nor a confession, and least of all an adventure, for death is not an adventure to those who stand face to face with it. It will try simply to tell of a generation of men who, even though they may have escaped shells, were destroyed by the war."

Erich Maria Remarque's exposé of the Great War became an immediate bestseller in 1928, and is considered by many worldwide, as the greatest war novel of all times. Not only does the German author raise questions and reveal different aspects of the war (nationalism, politics, shell shock, trench warfare, death, etc.), but he explores how they emotionally and physically affect one soldier (named Paul Baumer) and thus exposes how an entire generation of men were bombarded and wounded by the horrors of war.
Remarque himself fought in the Great War (WWI) and recovered five times from major wounds. When Adolf Hitler and his Nazis Party began rising to power during the 1930's, they branded Remarque's anti-war book as unpatriotic and used it as kindling in many of their book burnings. They also spread rumours that the famous author was secretly a Jew, hiding his identity by changing his last name from Kramer to Remarque (Remarque spelled backwards). In fear for his life, Remarque fled from Germany to Switzerland and later to the United States, where he remained until the end of the war.
In 1930, a film adaption of All Quiet on the Western Front met with considerable praise across America, but in Europe great controversy and outrage arose over this "anti-heroic and disturbing" depiction of a war whose aftermath was still a fresh and painful reality, like a great wound that has just begun to scab over. Dietrich Bonhoeffer - a German theologian and later a spy who plotted against Hitler and paid for his actions with his life - watched it in an American theatre with his French friend Jean Lasserre. They were both moved and brought to tears during the film, especially during a scene where the main character, Paul, stabs a French soldier in a shell hole, only to be forced to lie for hours beside him as he slowly dies from his injuries. 
Bonhoeffer, a German, and Lasserre, a Frenchman, sitting beside each other as friends, watching their countrymen kill each other. 
They probably considered the horrific fact that if they had been a little younger, Bonhoeffer could have been the one stabbing Lasserre or vise versa.  

I determined to reread this book recently as it coincides with the hundredth anniversary of the First World War. I find the novel all the more poignant as it comes from the perspective of a German soldier; a perspective that is often neglected in North American literature.
A hundred years is a large milestone to reach; a good point from which to look back and consider the past and to reconnoiter the future. As Canadians we wear poppies as a symbol of our remembrance and take part in memorial ceremonies for those who have sacrificed their lives for our country.
Why is it important for us to remember? You, my dear readers, have probably considered this question in some way or other. There are many answers that can be given and perspectives to be considered and I would like to share with you one of the greatest and most imperative.
The majority of us cannot truly understand the horrors of war - we have not experienced them. Canada has not had war on its own soil for over two hundred years (the War of 1812). The numbers of veterans who keep the memories of the World Wars alive and personal are dwindling. They will soon fade completely into the archives of history. 
In the Old Testament, God instructed the Israelites to establish rock memorials after witnessing his Almighty Power. This was to protect man against his own forgetful nature and to benefit the next generations when they asked about a memorial’s significance. People could share about the event and keep the memory alive and in the process strengthen their faith (read Deuteronomy 6:20-24 and Joshua 4:6-7). Jesus later instructed his disciples at the Passover meal to eat the bread and wine "in remembrance of (him)" (1 Corinthians 11:23-26). We don't want to turn our backs on memory and forget like the Israelites often did; turning their backs on God and continually repeating their sins. 

We remember so that we don't forget.


Resources:

Metaxas, Eric. Bonhoeffer. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2010. Print.

Remarque, Erich Maria. All Quiet on the Western Front. Trans. Wheen, A. W. New York: Ballantine Books, 1982. Print. 

SparkNotes Editors. All Quiet on the Western Front. SparkNotes, 2007. Web. 11 November, 2014.

Szterszky, Subby. Remembrance of Things Past and Present. Focus Insights, 2014. Web. 11 November, 2014.

Vance, Jonathan. Remembrance. Canada's History Magazine, October - November 2014. Pages 30-39. Print.

The Story Behind the Song, Part II

And the story continues...

John Newton's encounter with God aboard the Greyhound, and his following resolution of faith were the beginning of a new life and journey for the young sailor. It did not mean that he was immediately transformed into a saint - no longer prone to wallowing in the dregs of sin and temptation - or that he became immune to sorrow and pain; but he had been on the threshold of death's door; witnessing the darkness and emptiness that awaited him beyond, and that he deserved to remain forever in the depths to which he had chosen to fall. But with this horrific realization came the overwhelming and powerful knowledge that Christ had rescued him from the pit, taking the weight of sin and death off his shoulders, and would continue to sanctify (set a apart; purify) the young man. The libertine sailor had been chosen by God Almighty to be his heir; his son; his child (read Galatians 3:26-28 and Titus 3:5-7). 
Newton wrote in retrospect...

“I mark that day as the turning point in my spiritual experience. I came into the good of being delivered from the power and domination of sin—even though I still, to this day, ‘groan, being burdened’ with the effects and ever-present conflicts of my sin nature.” 

At the age of twenty-five, in 1750, John Newton was elevated to captain and and promised a slave ship, The Duke of Argyle. Such a position was considered a “genteel employment," and so John saw this as his long-awaited opportunity to introduce himself as a suitable suitor to Mary Cartlett and to ask for her hand in marriage. She accepted and they had a joyful wedding in February, 1750. 
It wasn't long, though, before Newton had to return to sea. The months abroad were agonizingly long as he thought of Mary waiting patiently for his return. There is little evidence that Newton felt any conviction at the time concerning his business in the slave trade. Many historians and scholars debate the authenticity of his faith. How could a true Christian continue in such a career? But I would bring to their attention the fact that slavery was so ingrained in 18th century society and culture, that even though it may sound absurd and calloused to us today, the majority of the Christian community condoned it as necessary for the betterment of the British nation (of course it was a much more complex issue, but for the purpose of this blog post, I will leave it at that). Newton was truly seeking after the Lord, but he was new in the faith with little teaching and instruction. Conviction and action would come.

Note: It makes me wonder and consider what we as Christians condone and encourage in our culture today, simply because it is so ingrained in our day-to-day lives that we are oblivious to its moral and physical consequences upon our nation and personal lives. 

A few years later, on a trip to the West Indies, Newton met and befriended Captain Clunie, a man of God, who became his mentor. John later wrote, “I was all ear; he not only increased my understanding, but his teaching warmed my heart.”
In November 1754, Newton was encouraged by his doctor to retire from sailing after he had an unexplainable seizure at the age of twenty-nine. John was content with this turn of events - especially as he had begun to feel uncomfortable in his role as a slave ship captain - and spent the next few months happily at home with his wife and wandering through the countryside, praying and reading his Bible.   
In August 1755 the Newton’s moved to Liverpool when John got a job as a tide surveyor. Though he enjoyed his new career, his heart leaned toward the ministry. He became acquainted with George Whitefield, a renowned speaker of the time, and he began studying Hebrew and Greek, but he soon came to the realization that, “(He) would rather be useful to others than die with the reputation of an eminent linguist.” 
Though the idea did not please many of his relatives and friends, Newton began to think earnestly about entering the clergy. His first attempt at preaching a sermon was a humiliating disaster, but he continued to persevere. He applied for ordination but met opposition at every turn. Many people refused to be references for him and he discovered that it was imperative that he have a university education - which he did not have and would not be able to attain. Though Newton was understandably frustrated, he was not defeated; the conflict only made him all the more certain that this was what God was calling him to do. While he waited for something to happen, he wrote his Authentic Narrative, and published it in that same year (1764). Soon after, Newton’s story and predicament came to the attention of Lord Dartmouth, a man of great influence. He worked swiftly on Newton's behalf and succeeded in attaining a parish for him in the little trade town of Olney. So Newton, at the age of thirty-nine became a clergyman, just like his mother had prayed and desired. 
The next sixteen years in Olney were happy ones. John and Mary never had children, but they acted as loving parents and friends to many of those in their congregation, and later adopted Mary's niece.
Newton continued to show a talent for writing poetry, but it was no longer the vulgar rubbish he had written as a young man. In 1779, Newton and Cowper (a dear friend of Newton's) published a collection of Olney Hymns, the majority of them being written by Newton, including what would become his most famous hymn, Amazing Grace. In the same year, he was offered a position at St. Mary’s Woolnoth in London. He accepted. John wrote about himself after the move: 

“That one of the most ignorant, the most miserable, and the most abandoned of slaves should be plucked from his forlorn state of exile in the coast of Africa and eventually be appointed minister of the parish of the first magistrate of the first city of the world; that he should there not only testify to such grace, but himself be a monument of it; that he should be able to record his rescue in his history, preaching, and writings to the world at large is a fact that I marvel in but (can) never sufficiently understand.”

It was there in 1785 that he was visited by a young Parliamentarian named William Wilberforce who wished to have a “serious conversation” about faith, and to seek direction from the old sea captain in regards to his career and raising a bill in the House against slavery. 
Newton had been struggling as he considered the magnitude of the atrocities of the slave trade, and the part he had played in them. But God would use these painful events and memories "for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today" (Genesis 50:19, ESV), just as he did for Joseph, who was sold into slavery by his brothers. Newton would later stand before the Privy Council as an eyewitness of the slave trade, ultimately assisting and encouraging Wilberforce in his campaign for its abolition. Newton also had many letters and essays published in his later years and he influenced a great many organizations and people like Wilberforce.
It was also in London that deep sorrow touched his life. His dear friend Cowper passed away, and Mary, his beloved wife, died at the age of fifty. Newton wondered how he could carry on, but God continued to strengthen him. 
John Newton was getting old. His eyesight was failing to the point of blindness and his memory was fading. He refused to retire from the pulpit, though, and continued to preach despite the fact that he frequently lapsed into forgetfulness in front of his congregation. He once said to someone, “I am like a person going on a journey in a stage coach, who expects its arrival every hour, and is frequently looking out the window for it.”  As one biographer described, John Newton waited patiently and joyously until that coach arrived on 21 December, 1807 and took him peacefully away at the age of eighty-two. The following is the inscription on his grave:

"Once an infidel and libertine, a servant of slaves in Africa, (he) was, by the rich mercy of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, reserved, restored, pardoned, and appointed to preach the faith he had long laboured to destroy."

Knowing the story and life behind the song can deeply enrich our understanding and appreciation of it. Why not read over the original lyrics of Amazing Grace below, or listen to the song?

Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me!

I once was lost, but now am found;

Was blind but now I see.

'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,

And grace my fears relieved;

How precious did that grace appear

The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares,

I have already come;

'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,

And grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promised good to me,

His Word my hope secures;

He will my Shield and Portion be,

As long as life endures.

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,

And mortal life shall cease,

I shall possess, within the veil,

A life of joy and peace.

The earth shall soon dissolve like snow,

The sun forbear to shine;

But God, who called me here below,

Will be forever mine.

If you are interested in learning more about this fascinating and monumental time in history, I would highly suggest reading Amazing Grace by Eric Metaxas and watching the movie by the same name, released in 2007 to commemorate the bicentennial of the abolition of the slave trade. It's one of my favourite historical films!

Sadly, John Newton, William Wilberforce, and that time in history are often overlooked in school and by our culture. Did you know that Abraham Lincoln considered Wilberforce to be one of his greatest inspirations? 

I could talk on and on about this historical period and these inspiring men of faith, but I will contain myself and leave it at that!

Resources

Dunn, John. A Biography of John Newton. New Creation Teaching Ministry, 1994. Web.

Metaxas, Eric. Amazing Grace. Harper Collins, New York, 2007. Print.

Newton, John. Authentic Narrative. London, 1964. Web.