I fell in love with Samuel Taylor Coleridge when I was in ninth grade. As a teenager I could not fathom any other poem as enchanting and yet so poignant as ‘The Rime of the Ancient Mariner’. I couldn’t sleep the night I first read the poem as the vivid imagery painted with words kept appearing in my dreams. For the first time my young mind grasped the true meaning of the power of words.
Coleridge and his mariner have stayed with me ever since. As I was writing my novel I reached the point where I had to describe the sea journey from London to Bombay. I found myself repeating the lines from the poem over and over again.
It finds a mention in my novel and my reference to Coleridge doesn’t stop there. As I kept writing and growing I discovered another poem, Kubla Khan,[ Kubla Khan] and fell in love with the poet all over again.
This time the poet and his process of writing the poem became my fixation. ‘Kubla Khan or a vision in Dream, A Fragment’ is one out of the three most celebrated poems written by Coleridge, the other two being ‘The Rime of the Ancient Mariner’ and ‘Christabel’.
An opium induced sleep gave birth to this masterpiece. Coleridge’s play with imagery, the use of assonance and alliteration, the varying speed of words and the play of vowels are at fine display in this poem. Readers and Critics for generations have tried interpreting it. Some find it an ode to creativity and imagination, others analyse the metaphorical exploration of relationship between the poet and society and some even find strong sexual connotations and references to yonic imagery.
The romantic idea of getting high and then creating something absolutely beautiful has appealed many a creative minds. Whether it was Sartre who took so much mescaline that he saw crabs everywhere or Aldous Huxley who experimented extensively with LSD and mescaline and wrote a mind blowing book ‘The Doors of Perception’. I cannot even start listing the musicians who did their best work when high and the number of songs dedicated to drugs. I would like to credit Coleridge to be the trend setter of this phenomenon, he brought “cool” to literature, much before Hemingway.
But, I don’t feel connected to his words for the above reasons.
Coleridge was an outcast, a rebel in his own right, different from the rest; a Dark Horse. He started off with William Wordsworth but while Wordsworth became a celebrated poet, Coleridge was pushed to the periphery of the literati world because of his illness and his subsequent addiction. His idealism and his Utopian dream of a Pantisocracy, its inevitable failure, poor financial condition and yet his invaluable efforts in reviving Shakespeare and Milton, make his life’s story both tragic and full of enigma. He is as hypnotic as the “glittering eyes” of the ancient mariner who could force people to stay put and listen to him.
Coleridge lived an unconventional albeit a calamitous life and it somehow makes him approachable to the reader. I would probably be scared to death to meet larger than life, E.Hemingway, but Coleridge; not so much.
And that why I love Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
Coleridge finds a lot of reference in my book and most important of them is in context of my male protagonist; Christopher Delano. Like Coleridge, he is an opium addict with a dark past and disturbed present who longs for an Abyssinian maid who would help him create the perfect world he dreams of. Not unlike Coleridge, he didn’t get a chance until it was too late. A misplaced sense of morality, drowning in pity and hatred, Christopher Delano walks on the path of self-destruction.
He describes himself thus:
“So, you see Miss. McCarthy, I am no hero. For most, I am a pilgrim in search of redemption, of what nature, I am not sure.”
Read more in my book and find out if Miss. McCarthy eventually turns out to be his Abyssinian maid who saves him from himself.
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A Vintage aficionado and History buff. I love researching about the times and lives of people who lived hundreds of years ago. I lift the cobweb of time, peer into their lives and bring back a slice of time dripping with the honey of nostalgia. Love History and good fiction, then join me. I promise one helluva ride.
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