Dino Francis
Felluga, The Perversity of Poetry: Romantic Ideology and
the Popular Male Poet of Genius (Albany: State University
of New York Press, 2004), xi + 208pp. ISBN 0-791-46299-4;
$70 (hb).
Dino Francis Felluga’s well argued
and thoroughly researched study explores the reception history
of Lord Byron and Sir Walter Scott, and connects their popular
critical reception in the nineteenth century to the ultimate
dismissal of poetry as a pertinent political force. Over the
course of the book, Felluga contends that a variety of critics
and reviewers throughout the Romantic period systematically
marginalised poetry and, moreover, the figure of the popular
male poet of genius by actively engaging a decidedly new rhetoric
of health and healthiness in their critiques of popular verse,
positioning both popular poetry and poets as being either,
as in the case of Byron, symptoms of social illness or, as
in the case of Scott, possible panaceas for a diseased society.
Felluga focuses on the crucial role contemporary periodicals,
student manuals, and medical journals played in pathologising
Byron and the figure of the popular male poet of genius. Felluga
posits that there were two primary claims surrounding poetry
and the popular poet in the Romantic period. The poetry of
Scott was widely considered to be a panacea for nineteenth-century
Britain, capable of reinvigorating a society driven into seeming
idleness and depravity by capitalist culture and supposed
effeminacy, not to mention utilitarianism and industrialism.
Owing to his political radicalism, Byron was positioned counter
to Scott and considered to be a contagious disease threatening
to undermine society. According to Felluga, the employment
of a rhetoric of health and manliness in the various periodicals
of the Romantic period provided critics with the conceptual
framework to oppose the force of poetry, considered dangerous
simply because of what was recognised then as its unique ability
to entice political revolution and actually make something
happen.
Felluga establishes
the historical context for his claims by opening with a painstaking
consideration of the various medical discourses that surrounded
the popular male poet of genius in the early nineteenth century.
He contends that due to ‘new ways of thinking about
the human and social being’ during the Romantic period,
‘civilization itself was seen as a sign of ill health
[…] and learning of all sorts was thus characterized
as a potentially unhealthy pursuit’ (p. 13). According
to Felluga, those in the medical professions felt a pertinent
need to distinguish themselves from the sort of ‘diseased’
geniuses who created imaginary literature, in order to ‘separate
their own endeavors from the very disease they attributed
to scholarly pursuits’ (p. 20) and carve a place for
themselves in the popular marketplace.
In the second
chapter, Felluga examines the ways in which Scott engaged
in the marketplace and protected himself and his work from
the criticism that was being lobbed against poetry and the
male poet of genius, a figure which he, along with Byron,
exemplified. According to Felluga, Scott countered the new
‘rhetoric of nervous sensibility and disease’
by ‘claiming for himself and for his metrical romances
a rhetoric of manly and invigorating health’ (p. 33).
In effect, Scott provided the British ruling elite with a
ready and public ideology of ‘self-legitimization though
the fetish-logic of medievalism’ (p. 9) in his metrical
romances, which ultimately would prove to be a crucial component
to the development of the underlying ideology of the Victorian
period. Scott, as Felluga contends, used Britain’s own
medieval past and the romance form to reinvigorate the nation,
or to at least provide it with the public illusion of invigoration
and liveliness. Contemporary reviewers responded by suggesting
that Scott and his romances were antidotes to the apparent
effeminacy of the contemporary age exemplified by the verse
and character of Byron. Felluga focuses almost exclusively
on Byron in the third and fourth chapters, which are certainly
the most provocative in the book. With his ‘romance’
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Felluga contends
that Byron countered the romances of Scott by fusing ‘the
temporal dynamics of the romance form to an all-encompassing
satire of the present’ (p. 71) and effectively turning
Scott’s romances inside out. Byron’s political
radicalism is not dismissed by Felluga in these chapters,
but is instead highlighted and scrutinised. Felluga argues
that ‘one could […] point directly to Byron’s
life for evidence of his revolutionary proclivities’
(p. 73), not to mention the fact that ‘Byron sought,
throughout his verse, to establish a consistent philosophy
of justice’ (p. 73) akin to Derrida’s own system
of justice. According to Felluga, Byron assumed actual political
force because his vision of social–political reality
differed so greatly from that of Scott’s ‘attempted
renchantment’ (p. 73) of the past in his metrical romances.
Felluga also realises Byron’s political threat to be
intrinsically linked to his ability to recognise ‘the
tendency to violence in any system, monarchial, capitalist,
and revolutionary alike’ (p. 73) allowing him to appeal
to the political mindset or reality of most every one of his
readers.
In giving such
close attention to Byron’s political ideology as it
is presented in his texts and personal political activities,
this book represents a decidedly radical departure from the
relatively standard critical dismissal, at least in criticism
over the last century, of Byron’s politics and the focus
on his biography. While I wish that Felluga had spent a bit
more time flushing out Byron’s political ideology and
vision of justice (tasks yet to be sufficiently undertaken
by any of Byron’s contemporary critics), his argument
on behalf of Byron as a pertinent political force in the Romantic
period is most certainly welcome and appreciated. His positioning
of Scott and Byron as opposite, though not entirely disconnected,
political and artistic forces during the Romantic period is
an intriguing point that reminds us of the crucial role both
poets played in both nineteenth century poetry and society.
Felluga concludes
the book with a Coda in which he extends his argument into
the Victorian period. He argues that Tennyson’s Idylls
of the King was a ‘last-ditch effort’ (p.
144) to come to terms, however helplessly, with the place
of verse in the wake of Byron and Scott and the marginalization
of poetry over the previous generation. According to Felluga,
after Byron and Scott, Tennyson ‘found himself having
to negotiate a rather fraught generic form […] the romance’
(p. 147) and wrestle with the question of what poetry was,
given that it was a genre that had, due to its virtual rejection
as a sufficient political activity, become an ‘ontological
impossibility’ (p. 147), emasculated and rendered subservient,
if not entirely irrelevant, to ‘realistic’ novels.
Aside from
the genuine novelty and ingenuity of Felluga’s various
arguments, one of the book’s greatest strengths is the
accessibility of its structure and the clarity of its style.
Felluga’s complex and wide-ranging argument is carefully
crafted over the course of each chapter and manages to successfully
carry a tremendous number of interconnected arguments to a
logical and entirely sufficient conclusion by the end. While
Felluga draws quite heavily from the theoretical schools of
Marxism and psychoanalysis over the course of the book, he
wields these tools reasonably and intelligently, allowing
them to illuminate his arguments rather than make his arguments
for him. Felluga is also careful to ground his points firmly
in history, supporting each and every point he makes with
a plethora of textual and historical examples. The Perversity
of Poetry is an important book that marks a major contribution
to criticism of Romantic and Victorian poetry. It deserves
be read (and reread, perhaps a couple of times over) not only
by critics of Byron and Scott but by any reader interested
in the history of English poetry.
James R. Fleming
University of Florida