Narrative poetry is distinguished from other types of verse in that it
aims to relate a connected series of events and, therefore, deals
primarily with actions, rather than with thoughts or emotions. This
definition, however, simple as it appears to be in theory, is often
difficult to apply as a test because other matter is blended with the
pure narrative. In any story where the situation is made prominent,
description may be required to make clear the scene and explain
movements to the reader; thus _Enoch Arden_ begins with a word picture
of a sea-coast town. Again it is often necessary to analyze the motives
which actuate certain characters, and so it becomes necessary to
introduce exposition of some sort into the plot. The poems in this
collection serve to enforce the lesson that the four standard rhetorical
forms--narration, description, exposition, and argumentation--are
constantly being combined and welded in a complicated way. In cases
where these various literary elements are apparently in a tangle, a
classification, if it be made at all, must be based on the design of the
poem as a whole, and the emphasis and proportion given to the respective
elements by the author. If the stress is laid on the recounting of the
events which make up a unified action, and if the other factors are made
subordinate and subsidiary to this end, then the poem in question
belongs to the narrative group.
The antiquity of the narrative as a form of literature is undisputed.
Indeed it has been established with a reasonable degree of certainty
that poetry in its very beginnings was narrative and in its primitive
state must have been a sort of rude, rhythmical chant, originated and
participated in by the tribe as a whole, and telling of the exploits of
gods or legendary heroes. In the course of time there arose the
_minstrel_, who, acting first as chorus leader, became eventually the
representative of the tribe and its own special singer. When we reach a
somewhat more advanced stage of civilization, we find regularly
appointed bards reciting their lays in the hall of the chieftain or
urging on the warriors to battle with rehearsals of past victories.
Originally these bards simply repeated the old oral traditions handed
down as common property, but the opportunity for the display of
individual genius soon induced them to try variations on the current
themes and to compose versions of their own. With this advance of
individualism, poetry became gradually more complex. Various elements,
lyrical, descriptive, and dramatic, assumed some prominence and tended
to develop separate forms. This differentiation, however, did not impair
the vigor of the story-telling spirit, and a constant succession of
narrative poems down to the present day evidences how productive and
characteristic a feature of our literature this form has been.
Obviously it is impracticable to undertake here even a brief summary of
the history of English narrative poetry and of the influences to which
it has been responsive. Something may, nevertheless, be done to map out
roughly a few divisions which may be of assistance in bringing this
material into orderly shape for the student. Many efforts at systematic
classification have been made, and a few fairly well-marked types have
been defined. In spite of this fact, the task still presents insuperable
obstacles over which there has been futile controversy. One type is
likely to run into another in a way which is uncomfortably baffling.
Then there are numerous nondescript works whose proper place seems
determinable by no law of poetics. The fact is that, here at least,
narrow distinctions are bound to be unsatisfactory. The critic finds it
imperative to avoid dogmatism lest he lay himself open to attack; his
only refuge is in the general statement which may be suggestive even if
it is not exact.
Of the fixed types, two of the best known, the _Epic_ and the _Ballad_,
were among the earliest to be created. The Epic in its original form was
a long poem of uniform metre, serious in tone and elevated in style,
introducing supernatural or heroic characters and usually dealing with
some significant event in racial or national history. In its first or
primitive shape it was anonymous, a spontaneous outgrowth of popular
feeling, though perhaps arranged and revised at a later date by some
conscious artistic hand. Such a primitive Epic is the old English
_Beowulf_: it is thoroughly objective; in it no clew to definite
authorship can be detected; in it personality is buried in the rush of
incident and the clash of action. When, with the broadening of the scope
of poetry, the individual writer displaced the tribe as the preserver of
folk-lore, the new order of things evolved the so-called artificial Epic
as represented by Milton's _Paradise Lost_. Here the conventional Epic
style and material is kept; the universe is the stage, and the figures
upon it are imposing and grand; but behind the poem is a single
personality whose mood colors and modifies the whole. The Epic is no
longer entirely racial or national, but individual; and we have the
introduction of such passages as Milton's reference to his own blindness
in Book Three.
Akin to the Epic is the Mock Epic, which appropriates the Epic machinery
and Epic style to use them in dealing with trivialities. In Pope's _The
Rape of the Lock_, the most artistic Mock Epic in English, the theft of
a single lock of hair becomes an act of national and supernatural
interest and a game of cards is described as if it were a mighty battle.
Almost parallel with and closely resembling the development of the Epic
is that of the _Ballad_. Like the primitive Epic in anonymity and
impersonality, the Ballad was much shorter, had rime and stanzas, and
dealt, as a rule, with incidents of less importance. Not so formal or
pretentious as the Epic, it was easily memorized even by the peasant,
and handed down from generation to generation by word of mouth. Favorite
subjects were the legends of Robin Hood, the misfortunes of nobles, and
the incidents of Border warfare. Mixed in many of them was a tendency
toward superstition, a survival of the belief in ghosts, magicians, and
talking animals. Numerous examples gathered by antiquaries may be found
in the edition of old English Ballads in this series; among the better
known are _The Wife of Usher's Well_ and _Chevy Chase_. Later poets
naturally adapted the Ballad form to their own uses, and so we have the
artificial Ballad, illustrated by Cowper's _The History of John_
_Gilpin_, Longfellow's _The Wreck of the Hesperus_, and Swinburne's _May
Janet_. In these poems many of the trite expressions so peculiar to the
primitive Ballad are retained; but, like the artificial Epic, the work
is no longer communal, but individual, in origin and bears the stamp of
one mind animated by an artistic purpose.
In discussing the Epic and the Ballad one is on fairly safe ground, but
between these types one finds a vast amount of poetry, evidently
narrative, which suggests perplexing problems. Much of it may be made to
come under what we term loosely the _Metrical Romance_. This title is
often narrowed by scholars to apply strictly to a poetical _genre_,
arising in the Middle Ages and brought into England by the
Norman-French, which deals in a rambling way with the marvellous
adventures of wandering knights or heroes. Its plot, in which love and
combat are conspicuous features, is enveloped in a kind of glamour, an
atmosphere of unreality. It drew its material from many diverse sources:
from the legends of Troy and the stories of classical and Oriental
antiquity; from the tales of the Frankish Emperor Charlemagne and his
paladins; from the Celtic accounts of King Arthur and the Table Round.
Since its characters, sometimes not without anachronism, embodied the
chivalric ideals of courtesy and loyalty to ladies, hatred of paganism,
and general conduct according to a prescribed but unwritten code, its
appeal was made for the most part to the courtier and the
aristocrat,--though it must be added that many of the robuster
Charlemagne romances acquired currency with the humbler classes and were
sung in the cottage of the peasant. The fact that the greater number of
these Metrical Romances were mere redactions, taken from foreign
models, makes them seem deficient in English interest. Still, several of
the best were of native composition, an excellent example being the
well-known _Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight_.
But even in spite of a few slight advantages to be gained, it seems
unwise to restrict the Metrical Romance too closely. What we are
accustomed to call, rather vaguely, romance is a persistent quality in
narrative poetry, and is not limited to the literature of any particular
age or rank of society. A cursory examination will disclose many
evidences of the romantic spirit in both the Epic and the Ballad. And
certainly Scott's _The Lay of the Last Minstrel_, Keats's _The Eve of
St. Agnes_, Longfellow's _Evangeline_, and many other poems on similar
themes must remain unclassified unless we designate them broadly as
Metrical Romances. Of course, it is not essential that they should be
pigeon-holed and put away with the right label affixed. However, one or
two observations on the subject-matter with which works of this nature
deal may assist us in avoiding embarrassing confusion. Sometimes the
Metrical Romance (using the term in its broader sense) deals with
authenticated incidents of history. In such cases, the narrative,
founded as it is on matters of fact, is compelled to preserve
substantial accuracy with regard to the events which it uses for a
structure. The fancy is thus partly curbed through the necessity of not
departing radically from the truth. This restraint, logically enough,
does not prevent the introduction of fictitious characters or episodes;
but in the strict historical poem, as in the historical novel, it does
require adherence to chronology and a just representation of the period
in which the action takes place. Occasionally this form approaches a
poetical paraphrase, as in Rossetti's _The White Ship_. The nineteenth
century was singularly prolific in works of this sort; notable among
such works are Scott's _Marmion_, Tennyson's _The Revenge_, and
Longfellow's _Paul Revere's Ride_. If the basis of the poem is
mythological, we have a further species of the Metrical Romance. The
stories clustered around the gods and goddesses of unsophisticated
peoples are perennially attractive and offer a fruitful field to the
poet. In the setting there is frequent opportunity for elaborate
description, and there is often, as in Tennyson's _Oenone_ and William
Morris's _Atalanta's Race_, ornamentation used by the author that is
more than ordinarily remarkable. For such poetry the Greek and Latin
writers furnish a wealth of material for imitation. Nor have the myths
of other races been neglected in recent years. Matthew Arnold's _Balder
Dead_ has its inspiration in the Norse _Eddas_ and has its opening scene
in Valhalla where Odin, father of the gods, presides over the immortals.
William Morris's _Sigurd the Volsing_ is an adaptation of the myths of
the early Germans.
It is not aside from the point to refer here to the few poems in which
the subject-matter of the Metrical Romance is used, strangely enough, as
a means of teaching moral ideas. Spenser's _Faerie Queene_ presents such
an anomaly. In it conventional chivalric heroes undergo surprising and
impossible adventures, battling and loving as in the legends of
Charlemagne and Arthur. Indeed, in the _Faerie Queene_, Arthur himself
appears as the protagonist. But these knights and ladies are, we learn,
merely animated vices and virtues and are such, because, as Spenser
takes pains to tell us, the poem, though romantic in mood, is
allegorical in intention, its aim being "to fashion a gentleman or noble
person in vertuous and gentle discipline." The author in using his
characters as agents of moral instruction creates a type as much by
itself as _Pilgrim's Progress_ is in prose. Modern examples less
conspicuous for visible allegorical intention are Tennyson's _Idylls of
the King_, in which Arthurian material is once more revived with
something of an ethical purpose.
There is still to be taken up a large body of poems, usually, though not
always, shorter than the Metrical Romances, which deal with the
situations of common life and with the humbler members of society. By
some authorities the term Metrical Tale has been applied to such
compositions; though it is hardly exact or specific, since the word
"tale" is usually made synonymous with "story" and therefore does not
connote a limited subject-matter. We may accept it in a provisional way
as a convenient technical term for our purposes. The Metrical Tale,
then, as contrasted with the Metrical Romance, attempts a realistic
portrayal of the natural sorrows, losses, or pains which belong to our
everyday experience. The emotions of which it treats are fundamentally
strong and keep the style and versification from becoming
overelaborated. The Metrical Tale may be humorous as in Chaucer's _The
Miller's Tale_, or may be pathetic and tragic as in Tennyson's _Enoch
Arden_ or Wordsworth's _Michael_. In these poems it will be observed
that the diction and phraseology are exceedingly simple. But here, too,
candor requires the admission that the alleged difference between the
Romance and the Tale is likely to bring on a charge of inconsistency.
_Enoch Arden_, just now mentioned, abounds in romantic episodes, though
Enoch and Philip and Annie dwell in a little fishing village. Why, if
Chaucer chose to call his masterpiece the _Canterbury Tales_, should any
one take the liberty of questioning his nomenclature? The query is well
founded; and yet the reader must recognize a wide gulf in tone and
spirit between _The Knight's Tale_ and _The Reeve's Tale_. Call it, if
you will, the distinction between idealism and realism; at any rate it
exists, and ought to be made plain even at the risk of confronting
dilemmas of another sort.
Having a kind of relationship to what we call arbitrarily the Metrical
Tale is the Beast Fable in verse, in which animals and birds are endowed
with reason and speech. The excuse for the Beast Fable is an ethical
one, and the story, often humorous, is merely a vehicle for
instruction,--a fact evident enough from the so-called moral appended to
most Beast Fables. The best Beast Fables in English are those of John
Gay.
It is beyond the scope of this introduction to make any but a passing
reference to the forms of versification which have been used in
narrative poetry. In general, the range of metres is wide and varied,
though a few common lines and stanzas occur with much frequency. Blank
Verse, a favorite Epic measure used by Milton in _Paradise Lost_, has
also been effective in the Metrical Romance (Arnold's _Sohrab and
Rustum_) and the Metrical Tale (Wordsworth's _Michael_). It is
peculiarly fitting to longer poems of a serious character. The Heroic
Couplet, made up of two rimed iambic pentameters, was invented by
Chaucer and tried in many of the _Canterbury Tales_. It has since
become very common, being the measure of such widely different poems as
Marlowe's _Hero and Leander_, Pope's _The Rape of the Lock_, and Keats's
_Lamia_. Octosyllabic verse is frequently found,--sometimes in rimed
couplets as in Scott's _Marmion_, less often unrimed as in Longfellow's
_Hiawatha_. In the couplet form it is especially suited to war poetry
where a rapid movement is desirable. The standard four-lined ballad
stanza with rimed alternate lines has continued in popularity with the
artificial ballad writers and has been used in such poems as
Wordsworth's _Lucy Gray_ and Longfellow's _The Wreck of the Hesperus_.
Most complicated of all the narrative stanzaic forms is the Spenserian
stanza, devised by Spenser for his _Faerie Queene_ and imitated by Keats
in _The Eve of St. Agnes_. It has a stateliness which makes it well
adapted to dignified themes. In some few examples there is a metre
wholly irregular and following the movement of the story, as in
Tennyson's _The Revenge_ and Browning's _Hervé Riel_.
The discussion of narrative methods may be left to the will and
discretion of the teacher. A study of the separate poems here presented
will show that while the four almost indispensable elements of
narration--plot, setting, characters, and motive--may usually be found,
their use and emphasis vary greatly according to the theories and
personalities of the authors. The employment of such arts of
construction as suspense and climax may be discovered by the individual
student, who should also test each poem for its unity, coherence, and
proportion. In a collection such as this there is ample room for
instructive criticism and comparison. But narrative poems may well be
read for the interest they excite. If a narrative poem fails in this
respect, it is all but condemned from the start. It is hoped that these
examples may show the student that _poetry_ is not always dull and
lifeless; that it may possess at times all the features which make
literature attractive as well as inspiring.
The editors are grateful for assistance rendered them by Mr. A. W.
Leonard and Mr. Archibald Freeman, both instructors in Phillips Academy,
Andover, Massachusetts.