The Dichotomy of Literature

NO, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolfs-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries;
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.


But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.



She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
Veil’d Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy’s grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.

John Keats, Ode to Melancholy

Literature, the study of it at least, is a strange thing. The raison d'etre of its study is extinguished once you sit on that damn chair, pick up your pen and etch-a-sketch already pre-sketched by some other critic. Literature, by definition, is completely hermeneutics, however eventhough one's opinion is factual, or at least palatable, one still has to conform to specific opinions expressed by others in order to achieve that illusory A. "Substantiated bullshit" vapourises in the face of such conflict, creating a dichotomy between the idea of study and study for exam sake. Embarrassing, it really is, to be unable to express an honest opinion because its not expected.

The best form of literature, I believe anyways, is one interpreted in isolation of other opinions. Every prose, poetry, novel or any text may relate to different people in different ways, with accordance to the uniqueness of the human psyche. haha don't you think so? Lets not take away our extensive capacity as ordinary limited, susceptible beings.
So please don't tell me "this is what Shakespeare meant by his use of rhyming couplets" or, "Keats intended for us to understand this with his use of imagery and caesura" because hell if we know what they intended. All they intended, as I believe once again, was for us to relate to their relevant pieces as we wish. yup.

Bugger off Cambridge, and Ms Elizabeth, while I'm at it.