I'm glad you agree, Hannibal. I have long admired what you write and it is an honor to have you on the same list as myself. Your treatment of the psalms in the Renaissance is a model of erudition and you yourself combine both wit and learning. Um . . . I'm applying for a grant to study at the Utopian school of paleology in Ultima Thule. Would you be able to find the time to write me a . . . Your admirer, Anne Prescott.

On Nov 14, 2009, at 12:16 PM, Hannibal Hamlin wrote:

Exactly. I've just been talking with a couple of graduate students about the similarity of the grad school world to the court in Casligione's Courtier. Full of flattery, sprezzatura, patronage, etc.

 

Hannibal

On Sat, Nov 14, 2009 at 11:58 AM, Anne Prescott <[log in to unmask]> wrote:

It is entirely possible, isn't it, to like/admire somebody and still be exasperated by some of what s/he does? You can offer genuinely felt praise--and less obviously readable blame or advice. Also, outright hypocrisy can be wearisome to the soul, and so one can feel "sincere" as one writes. In any case, what were the alternatives in Spenser's day? I think there's something a bit unseemly on our part when we blame writers for sucking up to the great and the rich and then going off to write grant proposals or letters telling the Folger how vital its collection is to somebody's work or reminding the Huntington how beautiful its rose garden is (well, maybe that latter example doesn't work as well). What we say isn't false, but candor is not the name of the game in the academic world either, when it comes to mucky pelf. The "hermeneutics of suspicion" is all very well, but we need to apply it to ourselves too. Or not. At least be fair, or maybe charitable, to those without tenure, dead or living. Spenser lived in an economy very different from that of Marx--or the modern university. Ireland is another matter, to be sure. Anne.

On Nov 14, 2009, at 9:45 AM, John Staines wrote:

Roger is undoubtedly right about the general affection for Elizabeth, and even Spenser's, particularly after its peak just after the Armada defeat.  That affection, though, was waning throughout the 1590s.  Indeed, much of the myth of Elizabeth develops under the Stuarts in nostalgic reaction to their failures.  Encomium, of course, mixes praise and blame and uses praise to prod the one being praised to rise to the level of the ideal.  Spenser and his political allies opposed Elizabeth's policies on many fronts (Ireland, the Netherlands, church reform, and her marriage options, to name a few).  If her were merely a flatterer, he would avoid those issues entirely, but his project requires him to offer his suggestions and criticisms under a veil of tact.

I'm still not convinced that Marx actually read any Spenser beyond the historians who had, in his witty words, engaged in the "cannibalism" of the View.  It's clear from Marx's full comment that he is responding to the View and attacking Spenser (with justification) as a representative of the colonial bureaucrats who, in his day, administered much of the world for the profit of capitalists back in Europe.  You can call Spenser "Elizabeth's arse-kissing poet" without having read a word of the Faerie Queene other than its title.  Marx's phrase makes a great sound-bite, but I don't think we should confuse that with a considered reading of the poem.

John D. Staines
Assistant Professor
Department of English
John Jay College of Criminal Justice
The City University of New York
619 W. 54th Street
New York, NY 10019
________________________________________
From: Sidney-Spenser Discussion List [SIDNEY-[log in to unmask]] On Behalf Of Roger Kuin [[log in to unmask]]
Sent: Saturday, November 14, 2009 2:28 AM
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: Re: Spenser as (unnecessary?) panderer/flatterer

One of the things one has to remember is that the 'flattery' of the Queen wasn't all flattery: there was in fact, in the 1570s and 80s a vast wave of gratitude and affection for her. This can go from the little verse on the title-page of Langham's Letter about Kenilworth ('While that our neighbours' Realms, alas, uprore doth rend asunder,/ In mirth among the subjects that her Majesty are under,/She, thanks to God, leads pleasant days: let spite and malice wonder.') to Sidney's writing to the Count of Hanau in the same year, 'she is our Meleager’s brand:  if it perishes, all our tranquillity falls in ruin.' They looked across the Channel at France, riven by civil war, and across the North Sea to the Netherlands, savaged by the Army of Spain; they looked South to Spain itself where from 1574 on they were always working on a fleet against England; they looked at the ports, where men were coming in who planned either to kill Elizabeth or encourage her subjects to do so; they looked across the Irish Sea where Spanish soldiers were landing and being welcomed, on their way to England; they looked at the lands of the Empire, often in religious and/or dynastic chaos, and threatened by the Turks; and their Thanksgiving to and for her Majesty was real and heartfelt. Also, she was of all European monarchs the one with the greatest sense of public relations -- more of her subjects saw her in the flesh than was true of those of any other ruler. And she had genuine charm -- only with her Council and occasionally her inner court did she show her infuriating side. Spenser certainly, through his courtly friends, knew about this; but I've always sensed that he was enough of an Englishman of his time genuinely to feel that love for his Queen.

Roger Kuin



On 14 nov. 09, at 07:18, Kevin Farnham wrote:

Lochman, Daniel T wrote:
This thread deserves a place in the Posterior Analytics.

Yes. I used to think I wished I'd had the opportunity to become a professor in English Literature. Reading this thread makes me think that maybe going the technology route, with literature and philosophy and the mystic tradition as a part-time endeavor, might have been more prudent after all!

The question for me, as (still) a Spenser novice, is -- did Spenser flatter too much? i.e., did it degrade his art? To me, parts of the FQ are artistically less perfect due to what appears to me to be pandering to the illustrious Queen. I hate the parts that virtually duplicate contemporary events, with the Queen portrayed as the light of the world, and her opponents portrayed almost as Satan's slaves.

So -- was such pandering a necessary aspect of the "game" that had to be played in order to attain visibility as a major artist during those times? If Spenser chose not to "pander" to Elizabeth, is it really possible that we might not be reading him today? Is that the way that world was?

Did Shakespeare not have to pander only because he was "accepted" as a fully qualified flatterer early in his career (perhaps he was a personal friend of the Queen)?

You're the experts! Tell me the answer, please! This question has bothered me ever since I've been studying Spenser and learned of his biography. His art is such that it seems like he shouldn't have had to pander to anyone to achieve fame into many future centuries. Yet, to me, it seems like he willfully chose to pander, to flatter, immensely at times.

Was Marx right? Did Spenser do that? Did he have to do so? Did he have doubts about his ability as an artist (seems unlikely). So, why pander? Why not be like Dante?

Was, perhaps, the late life return to lyric (Epithalamion, et. al) a decision that pandering wasn't worth the effort? In FQ he signals this return. The epic may not be worth the effort, it may be better to experience and live that which is portrayed in idyll?

Kevin

--
Hannibal Hamlin
Associate Professor of English
The Ohio State University
164 West 17th Ave., 421 Denney Hall
Columbus, OH 43210-1340
[log in to unmask]" target="_blank">[log in to unmask]
[log in to unmask]