Thursday, 9 June 2016

The Ring and the Book by Robert Browning

O lyric Love, half-angel and half-bird
And all a wonder and a wild desire —
Boldest of hearts that ever braved the sun,
Took sanctuary within the holier blue.
And sang a kindred soul out to his face —
Yet human at the red-ripe of the heart —
When the first summons from the darkling earth
Reached thee amid thy chambers, blanched their blue,
And bared them of the glory — to drop down,
To toil for man, to suffer or to die —
This is the same voice: can thy soul know change?
Hail then, and hearken from the realms of help!

(from The Ring and the Book)

What a singer Browning is. A master of the apparently effortless effusion. That hymn to his wife is at the end of Book 1. She helped as his divine muse and the poem novel is a proof of it. In a way the story is like the tales I watch in the mid hour of insomniac night on Tru Tv. The detectives seem so grateful for the stupidity of the average killer. So Guido didn't make sure Pompilia was dead, and he forgot about a licence to hire horses to make his way back to his hole in the wall. If he had of had Cochran and Bailey as his defence team he woulda got off. Sure Guido had to put up with a lot. Crime passionel. He snapped. So would you members of the page turners guild and semi-gentle readers.

This to be my portal bench reading for a Summer that so far does not belie the name.

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