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The poet/painter Isaac Rosenberg‘s poverty, education, and Jewish upbringing made him an outsider, yet this experience equipped him to cope with the unforeseen horror of war in the trenches: ‘I am determined that this war, with all its powers for devastation, shall not master my poetry.’ At first overshadowed by Brooke, Sassoon, and Owen, Rosenberg, whose background and poetic achievement insistently challenged contemporary judgements, increasingly symbolised those outside the established cultural canons. It was the poets who read and absorbed his work; and those of the next war who found in him an alternative voice which spoke to them. In the 1950s/60s that difference of approach, which had seemingly marginalised Rosenberg, now interested younger poets and eventually critics and the wider public. The originality and strength of his poetry were rooted in the struggle with the opposing elements of his life, which did not follow the conventions of any role he played: East End Jew, poet, painter or soldier.
Book X of the Republic does not ban more mimesis than Book III, nor operate with a different concept of mimesis, two claims often made. It surveys the same territory from a higher, more philosophical perspective, illuminating it particularly by reference to the theory of Forms and the psychology of soul parts that were introduced in sections of the Republic subsequent to Book III. Indeed, its arguments are directed to the philosopher, or someone sympathetic to Plato’s philosophy, not to any and every potential reader. Where they go beyond Book III in scope of what is banned is in pronouncing an anathema upon any poetry oriented towards pleasure rather than to what is beneficial, or upon what Socrates refers to as ‘the honeyed Muse’ – leaving only hymns to the gods and encomia of exemplary, heroic citizens. We endanger our souls and our grip on truth if, in watching tragic drama, we allow ourselves to enjoy grieving over suffering, and to some extent to believe, against our better judgment, that ups and downs of fortune are much more significant than they really are. Book X speaks to us from the viewpoint of eternity, from a position of deep spiritual elitism.
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