Samuel Taylor Coleridge. (1772–1834)

"Reviewers are usually people who would have been poets, historians, biographers, etc., if they could: they have tried their talents at one or the other, and have failed; therefore they turn critics"-Samuel Taylor Coleridge
(Lectures on Shakespeare and Milton, p. 36. Delivered 1811–181 )

Romantic-lonely-poetic-critical-imaginative-passionate-inspiring-intelligent-free thinking-rebel-unique-gifted---

Samuel Coleridge encompassed many of these attributes, but he was not defined by a single one of them. Being a writer of course meant that his life would be filled with multiple successes as well as downfalls. For a long period of his life, he was a dear friend of William Wordsworth, and in 1798 the two of them published the poetic volume, Lyrical Ballads...that is all I really want to divulge for now...more to come

Thoughts on Don Quixote

So far i have to admit that i am thoroughly enjoying this book. There is something about the character Don Quixote, that in a weird way is very relatable. I am not saying that I have wanted to go out and fight imaginary battles while pretending to be the most heroic knight of all times, but i am saying i understand Don Quixote's undeniable thirst for something more. He is nothing short of a dreamer, and while that seems to amuse people, you have to wonder who is really crazy? Don or everyone else? I just think that Don Quixote, despite how ridiculous he is portrayed with his horse, his armor and his false perception of the very world around him, is not as ridiculous as the people who never think to step out of what they know and what is seemingly comfortable to them. I guess what I'm saying is that i would chose the idealist over the realist any day...that's all for now

The Death of Innocence

In class on Friday i found myself interested in something Dr. Sexson said about people and the innocence, or lack there of, in regards to their thoughts. To me it was painfully clear that the reason we can't just hear and enjoy a story simply for what it is, is because we know too much. The more we learn the less innocent our minds tend to be. I tend to reminisce about the innocence of my youth and sometimes wish that when I'm reading any piece of literature, i could stop from myself from diving right into a deep analysis and criticism of that piece of work, but that is no longer a capability of mine. Being an English major has destroyed my ability to go back to the days when little red ridding hood was just a story with a valuable moral. We have learned too much to revert back to our days of simplicity, and while i value all that i have learned, i still sometimes find myself in a state of nostalgia for the days when simplicity was appreciated rather than criticized.But i guess we all have to grow up sometimes...