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Virginia Woolf - Home. PROBLEMATIC READING | Rethinking how to read medieval texts. William Blake. William Blake (28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827) was an English poet, painter, and printmaker. Largely unrecognised during his lifetime, Blake is now considered a seminal figure in the history of the poetry and visual arts of the Romantic Age.

His prophetic poetry has been said to form "what is in proportion to its merits the least read body of poetry in the English language".[2] His visual artistry led one contemporary art critic to proclaim him "far and away the greatest artist Britain has ever produced".[3] In 2002, Blake was placed at number 38 in the BBC's poll of the 100 Greatest Britons.[4] Although he lived in London his entire life (except for three years spent in Felpham),[5] he produced a diverse and symbolically rich oeuvre, which embraced the imagination as "the body of God"[6] or "human existence itself".[7] Early life[edit] 28 Broad Street (now Broadwick Street) in an illustration of 1912.

Apprenticeship to Basire[edit] Royal Academy[edit] Gordon Riots[edit] Engravings[edit] The Complete Poetry & Prose of W.Blake. The William Blake Archive Homepage. Mrs Warren's Profession, by George Bernard Shaw. Open Source Shakespeare: search Shakespeare's works, read the texts. Shakespeare's Globe, Bankside, Southwark, London / Shakespeare's Globe. A Defence of Poetry. Percy Bysshe Shelley. 1909-14. English Essays: Sidney to Macaulay. The Harvard Classics.

'A Modest Proposal', Jonathan Swift. It is a melancholy object to those who walk through this great town or travel in the country, when they see the streets, the roads, and cabin doors, crowded with beggars of the female sex, followed by three, four, or six children, all in rags and importuning every passenger for an alms. These mothers, instead of being able to work for their honest livelihood, are forced to employ all their time in strolling to beg sustenance for their helpless infants: who as they grow up either turn thieves for want of work, or leave their dear native country to fight for the Pretender in Spain, or sell themselves to the Barbadoes. But my intention is very far from being confined to provide only for the children of professed beggars; it is of a much greater extent, and shall take in the whole number of infants at a certain age who are born of parents in effect as little able to support them as those who demand our charity in the streets.

Many other advantages might be enumerated. George Eliot, 1819-80 (Mitsu Matsuoka, Nagoya University, Japan) It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them. (The Mill on the Floss, bk. 5, ch. 1) What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult to each other? (Middlemarch, bk. 8, ch. 72) George Eliot Websites Blessed is the influence of one true, loving human soul on another. Works (Wikipedia) Chronology Mary Ann Fvans born 22 November at Arbury Hall Farm moves to Griff a few months later. Mrs. Misses Franklin's School; learning French. Mother dies, goes home to keep house at Griff for her father. Undertakes chart of ecclesiastical history. Learning Italian and German with a tutor; also studying Latin; publishes first creative work, a poem in the Christian Observer.

Moves with father to Bird Grove, Foleshill, a location near Coventry; meets Charles Bray and his wife, Caroline Hennell Bray, on 2 November. Studying Greek. Strauss translation published. Top of Page. "George Eliot" by Virginia Woolf. George Eliot was the pseudonym of novelist, translator, and religious writer Mary Ann Evans (1819-1880).

This article by Virginia Woolf was first published in The Times Literary Supplement, 20th November, 1919. To read George Eliot attentively is to become aware how little one knows about her. It is also to become aware of the credulity, not very creditable to one's insight, with which, half consciously and partly maliciously, one had accepted the late Victorian version of a deluded woman who held phantom sway over subjects even more deluded than herself. At what moment and by what means her spell was broken it is difficult to ascertain. Some people attribute it to the publication of her Life. Perhaps George Meredith, with his phrase about the 'mercurial little showman' and the 'errant woman' on the dais, gave point and poison to the arrows of thousands incapable of aiming them so accurately, but delighted to let fly.

A scrap of her talk is preserved. 'Adam Bede', George Eliot: Ch.17 "In which the story pauses a little" More E-texts Adam Bede by George Eliot (1819-1880) Book 1, Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | Book 2, Chapters: 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | Book 3, Chapters: 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | Book 4, Chapters: 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | Book 5, Chapters: 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | Book 6, Chapters: 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | Book 2 Chapter 17: In Which the Story Pauses a Little “THIS Rector of Broxton is little better than a pagan!”

I hear one of my readers exclaim. Certainly I could, if I held it the highest vocation of the novelist to represent things as they never have been and never will be. But, my good friend, what will you do then with your fellow– parishioner who opposes your husband in the vestry? It is for this rare, precious quality of truthfulness that I delight in many Dutch paintings, which lofty–minded people despise. All honour and reverence to the divine beauty of form! Andrew Marvell: To his Coy Mistress. "Had we but world enough and time." (Cavalier poem, Carpe Diem) Dickens, "A Madman's Manuscript" (The Pickwick Club, Chapter XI) "Yes! -- a madman's! How that word would have struck to my heart, many years ago! How it would have roused the terror that used to come upon me sometimes; sending the blood hissing and tingling through my veins, till the cold dew of fear stood in large drops upon my skin, and my knees knocked together with fright!

"I remember days when I was afraid of being mad; when I used to start from my sleep, and fall upon my knees, and pray to be spared from the curse of my race; when I rushed from the sight of merriment or happiness, to hide myself in some lonely place, and spend the weary hours in watching the progress of the fever that was to consume my brain. "I did this for years; long, long years they were. "At last it came upon me, and I wondered how I could ever have feared it. "Riches became mine, wealth poured in upon me, and I rioted in pleasures enhanced a thousandfold to me by the consciousness of my well-kept secret. "I had money. "Stay. Top of Page. Tolkien.