Unde a studiat Cowley ?

1. Abraham Cowley (1618 -1667) poet englez, născut în City of London intr-o familie cu o stare materiala foarte buna – tatăl sau a fost papetar.

2. Unde a studiat Cowley ? • A studiat la Westminster School și la Trinity College. • La 15 ani și-a publicat primul volum de versuri: „Poetical Blossoms” care contine 5 poeme, dintre care unul a fost scris la 10 ani. • A scris o dramă pastorală și o comedie latină la vârsta de 20 ani - „Naufragium Iaculare”. • Licențiat în litere și filosofie la vârsta de 21 de ani. • Doctor în litere și filosofie la vârsta de 25 de ani. • A studiat medicina la Oxford devenind doctor la vârsta de 32 de ani.

3. Statutul utopiei științifice pe fondul gândirii lui A. Cowley • Prin trecerea de la poemul metafizic standard la poemul ancorat în științificitate empirică - menită să direcționeze corect imaginația - Cowley poate fi înțeles, în probabil trei feluri:

4. 1.Drept un poet reprofilat în filosof al naturii. • 2.Drept un poet cu o atitudine distructivă la adresa imaginației care i-a deservit până atunci în activitatea literară. • 3.Drept un poet care caută să își ducă la alt nivel poemul metafizic.

5. La prima vedere primele două explicații, luate fie împreună sau separat, par mai la îndemână având în vedere asocierea lui Cowley cu Bacon (amintit în oda adresată Societății Regale) și Hobbes (primul gânditor care a vrut să construiască o filosofie politică pe un raționalism împins cu bună știință la extrem. Mai ales că Hobbes se sprijină în totalitate pe adevărul științific așa cum reiese din examenul concret al faptelor și neagă originea divină a puterii sau a caracterului sacru al regilor sau preoților, teze care nu sunau prea bine poeților metafizici ai vremii).

6. Pentru Cowley, lumea experiențelor sensibile este una din cele două lumi cu care imaginația poetului trebuie să lucreze (cealaltă lume, adică cea a mitului, este cea în care mintea creează). În spatele amândurora se află realitatea - Universul armonios conceput în mintea lui Dumnezeu și accesibil omului prin surprindere. Cowley este un soi de poet filosof cu preocupări științifice care se găsește într-un rol destinat cunoașterii. Iar prin acest rol, el trebuie să unească înțelegerea științifică a fenomenelor naturii cu înțelegerea imaginativă a lumiii pentru a crea o viziune a ordinii și armoniei universale.

7. Astfel, filosofia naturala este doar o anexa a perspectivei sale, menită să îndrume imaginația și nicidecum o preocupare diferita. Cuvintele cu care lucrează un astfel de poet sunt imagini ale lucrurilor și nu ale gândurilor. O astfel de idee de relație a limbajului cu adevărul limitează drastic spiritul poetic convențional. Iată o implicație de care e posibil ca poetul nostru să fi dat seama în cercurile literare ale vremii. • „From words, which are but pictures of the thought • (Though we our thoughts from them perversely drew), • To things, the mind’s right object, he it brought. • Like foolish birds, to painted grapes we flew;” • - Ode to the Royal Society

8. Separarea carteziană minte-corp, spirit-sens,Dumnezeu-creație sau separarea lui Locke dintre cuvinte și obiecte nu face obiectul gândirii lui Cowley: • „And when on heaps the chosen Bunches lay, • He pressed them wisely the Mechanic way, • Till all their juice did in one Vessel join, • Ferment into a Nourishment Divine . . .”. • - Ode to the Royal Society

9. Pentru poetul metafizic, natura umana este oreprezentare a unui Univers care funcționează ca un organism viu și care manifesta scopuri sacre in toate procesele lui. Avem de-a face cu un concept de ordine naturala in care cauzele de ordin spiritual și material nu sunt independente ci interdependente. De aici și asumarea cum că ideile, ca produse ale imaginației nu sunt obiecte mentale ci entități care participa prin interrelatie la intreg. Transcenderea spațiului și timpului - preocuparea poetului metafizic- ține de descoperirea cauzelor secunde ale realității (adică poetul, de fapt, descoperă la acest nivel infinta creativitate de ordin divin), ca mai apoi să intervină poezia, care în contextul acesta nu este este nimic altceva decât știința divină care funcționează ca un pod între universul cognoscibil de prim nivel și universul misterios atemporal - locuit doar de către suflet. Iată fondul gândirii pe care a luat naștere utopia științifică „O propunere pentru progresul filosofiei experimentale”.

15. Abraham Cowley (1618-1667) To The Royal Society (excerpt)               1Philosophy the great and only heir               2Of all that human knowledge which has bin               3Unforfeited by man's rebellious sin,               4     Though full of years he do appear,               5(Philosophy, I say, and call it, he,               6For whatso'ere the painter's fancy be,               7     It a male-virtue seems to me)               8Has still been kept in nonage till of late,               9Nor manag'd or enjoy'd his vast estate:             10Three or four thousand years one would have thought,             11To ripeness and perfection might have brought             12     A science so well bred and nurst,             13And of such hopeful parts too at the first.             14But, oh, the guardians and the tutors then,             15(Some negligent, and some ambitious men)             16     Would ne'er consent to set him free,             17Or his own natural powers to let him see,             18Lest that should put an end to their authority.             19  That his own business he might quite forget,             20They' amus'd him with the sports of wanton wit,             21With the desserts of poetry they fed him,             22Instead of solid meats t' encrease his force;             23Instead of vigorous exercise they led him             24Into the pleasant labyrinths of ever-fresh discourse:             25     Instead of carrying him to see             26The riches which do hoarded for him lie             27     In Nature's endless treasury,             28     They chose his eye to entertain             29     (His curious but not covetous eye)             30With painted scenes, and pageants of the brain.             31Some few exalted spirits this latter age has shown,             32That labour'd to assert the liberty             33(From guardians, who were now usurpers grown)             34Of this old minor still, captiv'd Philosophy;             35     But 'twas rebellion call'd to fight             36     For such a long oppressed right.             37Bacon at last, a mighty man, arose             38     Whom a wise King and Nature chose             39     Lord Chancellor of both their laws,             40And boldly undertook the injur'd pupil's cause.             41  Authority, which did a body boast,             42Though 'twas but air condens'd, and stalk'd about,             43Like some old giant's more gigantic ghost,             44     To terrify the learned rout             45With the plain magic of true reason's light,             46     He chas'd out of our sight,             47Nor suffer'd living men to be misled             48     By the vain shadows of the dead:             49To graves, from whence it rose, the conquer'd phantom fled;             50     He broke that monstrous god which stood             51In midst of th' orchard, and the whole did claim,             52     Which with a useless scythe of wood,             53     And something else not worth a name,             54     (Both vast for show, yet neither fit             55     Or to defend, or to beget;             56     Ridiculous and senseless terrors!) made             57Children and superstitious men afraid.             58     The orchard's open now, and free;             59Bacon has broke that scarecrow deity;             60     Come, enter, all that will,             61Behold the ripen'd fruit, come gather now your fill.             62     Yet still, methinks, we fain would be             63     Catching at the forbidden tree,             64     We would be like the Deity,             65When truth and falshood, good and evil, we             66Without the senses aid within our selves would see;             67     For 'tis God only who can find             68     All Nature in his mind.             69  From words, which are but pictures of the thought,             70Though we our thoughts from them perversely drew             71To things, the mind's right object, he it brought,             72Like foolish birds to painted grapes we flew;             73He sought and gather'd for our use the true;             74And when on heaps the chosen bunches lay,             75He press'd them wisely the mechanic way,             76Till all their juice did in one vessel join,             77Ferment into a nourishment divine,             78     The thirsty soul's refreshing wine.             79Who to the life an exact piece would make,             80Must not from other's work a copy take;             81     No, not from Rubens or Vandyke;             82Much less content himself to make it like             83Th' ideas and the images which lie             84In his own fancy, or his memory.             85     No, he before his sight must place             86     The natural and living face;             87     The real object must command             88Each judgment of his eye, and motion of his hand.             89From these and all long errors of the way,             90In which our wand'ring predecessors went,             91And like th' old Hebrews many years did stray             92     In deserts but of small extent;             93Bacon, like Moses, led us forth at last,             94     The barren wilderness he past,             95     Did on the very border stand             96     Of the blest promis'd land,             97And from the mountain's top of his exalted wit,             98     Saw it himself, and shew'd us it.             99But life did never to one man allow           100Time to discover worlds, and conquer too;           101Nor can so short a line sufficient be           102To fathom the vast depths of Nature's sea:           103     The work he did we ought t' admire,           104And were unjust if we should more require           105From his few years, divided 'twixt th' excess           106Of low affliction, and high happiness.           107For who on things remote can fix his sight,           108That's always in a triumph, or a fight?           109  From you, great champions, we expect to get           110These spacious countries but discover'd yet;           111Countries where yet in stead of Nature, we           112Her images and idols worshipp'd see:           113These large and wealthy regions to subdue,           114Though learning has whole armies at command,           115     Quarter'd about in every land,           116A better troop she ne're together drew.           117     Methinks, like Gideon's little band,           118     God with design has pick'd out you,           119To do these noble wonders by a few:           120When the whole host he saw, they are (said he)           121     Too many to o'ercome for me;           122     And now he chooses out his men,           123     Much in the way that he did then:           124     Not those many whom he found           125     Idly extended on the ground,           126     To drink with their dejected head           127The stream just so as by their mouths it fled:           128     No, but those few who took the waters up,           129And made of their laborious hands the cup. ...           166  With courage and success you the bold work begin;           167     Your cradle has not idle bin:           168None e're but Hercules and you could be           169At five years age worthy a history.           170     And ne're did fortune better yet           171     Th' historian to the story fit:           172     As you from all old errors free           173And purge the body of philosophy;           174So from all modern follies he           175Has vindicated eloquence and wit.           176His candid style like a clean stream does slide,           177     And his bright fancy all the way           178     Does like the sun-shine in it play;           179It does like Thames, the best of rivers, glide,           180Where the god does not rudely overturn,           181     But gently pour the crystal urn,           182And with judicious hand does the whole current guide.           183'T has all the beauties Nature can impart,           184And all the comely dress without the paint of art.

16. WIT • spirit • inteligenţă • minte • agerime • haz • raţiune • duh • om de spirit

17. Ode of Wit • In a true piece of Wit all things must be, Yet all things there agree, As in the ark, joined without force or strife, All creatures dwelt: all creatures that had life; Or as the primitive forms of all (If we compare great things with small) Which without discord or confusion lie In that strange mirror of the Deity.

18. To Mr. Hobs • VAstBodies of Philosophie            I oft have seen, and read,            But all are Bodies Dead,       Or Bodies by Art fashioned;    I never yet the Living Soul could see,            But in thy Books and Thee.'TisonelyGod can know    Whether the fair Idea thou dost show    Agree intirely with his own or no.            This I dare boldly tell,      10'Tis so like Truth 'twill serve our turn as well.Just, as in Nature thy Proportions be,    As full of Concord their Varietie,    As firm the parts upon their Centre rest,    And all so Solid are that they at least    As much as Nature, Emptiness detest.2. 1    Long did the mighty Stagirite retain    The universal Intellectual reign,2    Saw his own Countreys short-liv'edLeopard slain;3    The stronger Roman-Eagle did out-fly,      20Oftnerrenewed his Age, and saw that Dy.4    Mecha it self, in spight of Mahumetpossest,    And chas'ed by a wild Deluge from the East,    His Monarchy new planted in the West.    But as in time each great imperial race    Degenerates, and gives some new one place:            So did this noble Empirewast,            Sunk by degrees from glories past,    And in the Schoolmens hands it perisht quite at last.            Then nought but Words it grew,      30            And those all Barb'arous too.       It perisht, and it vanisht there,    The Life and Soulbreath'd out, became but empty Air.3.     The Fields which answer'd well the Ancients Plow,    Spent and out-worn return no Harvest now,    In barren Age wild and unglorious lie,            And boast of past Fertilitie,    The poor relief of Present Povertie.Food and Fruit we now must want       Unless new Lands we plant.      40    We break up Tombs with Sacrilegious hands;            Old Rubbish we remove;    To walk in Ruines, like vain Ghosts, we love,       And with fond Divining Wands            We search among the Dead            For Treasures Buried,       Whilst still the Liberal Earth does hold    So many Virgin Mines of undiscover'ed Gold.4. 1    The Baltique, Euxin, and the Caspian,    And slender-limb'edMediterranean,      50    Seem narrow Creeks to Thee, and only fit    For the poor wretched Fisher-boats of Wit.    Thy nobler Vessel the vast Ocean tries,       And nothing sees but Seas and Skies,       Till unknown Regions it descries,    Thou great Columbus of the Golden Lands of new Philosophies.       Thy task was harder much then his,       For thy learn'dAmerica is       Not onely found out first by Thee,    And rudely left to Future Industrie,      60       But thy Eloquence and thy Wit,    Has planted, peopled, built, and civiliz'd it.5.             I little thought before,       (Nor being my own self so poor       Could comprehend so vast a store)[1]       That all the Wardrobe of rich Eloquence,       Could have afforded half enuff,       Of bright, of new, and lasting stuff,    To cloath the mighty Limbs of thy GigantiqueSence.[2]    Thy solid Reason like the shield from heaven      70            To the Trojan Heroe given,    Too strong to take a mark from any mortal dart,    Yet shines with Gold and Gems in every part,    And Wonders on it grave'd by the learn'd hand of Art,              A shield that gives delight              Even to the enemies sight,    Then when they're sure to lose the Combateby't.6.     Nor can the Snow which now cold Age does shed            Upon thy reverend Head,    Quench or allay the noble Fires within,      80            But all which thou hast bin,            And all that Youth can bethou'rt yet,            So fully still dost Thou    Enjoy the Manhood, and the Bloom of Wit,    And all the Natural Heat, but not the Feaver too.[1]    So Contraries on Ætna's top conspire,    Here hoary Frosts, and by them breaks out Fire.    A secure peace the faithful Neighbors keep,Th'emboldnedSnow next to the Flame does sleep.            And if we weigh, like Thee,      90Nature, and Causes, we shall see            That thus it needs must be,    To things Immortal Time can do no wrong,    And that which never is to Dye, forever must be Young.