QuoteSechoeD

As some devoted literary circles in some parts of the world gather to celebrate the birth anniversary of John Keats, and some out to lunch crazy enthusiasts like me will mark and cherish the very day on which the poet was born, Romantic poetry written by him would remain as fresh as the cider of Autumn. I wonder how important is it to numerically cut and dry, saying, on 'this' day was born the poet of sensuously charged lines of verse but what is of more import figuratively is that Keats is remembered as a poet and as we revisit some of those oozy opalescent lines, Keats is born, revived and reborn. Imagination once again overcomes Reality in escaping, eloping to see inwardly hoe the nightingale looks like today; or how many more fruitful years the teeming wine has added to its ethereal taste since it was first inhumed under the tip of Keats's pen. It is precisely a poet's predicament to say the preponderant with fewest words; to paint pictures on the canvas of sheer f

To all those who believe in the genius of Oscar Wilde, it would not be hard to reconsider the man's position as an outsider in his own society. That he was an Irish may be of material consequence and that Wilde's wit was hard to fit and the artist's flamboyance drew the chagrin of moral annoyance is a Victorian dilemma, but what remains common throughout history, is an outsider's predicament which starts off innocently and harmlessly but which stifles or is made to stifle by force by the so called 'authoritative' ambush. In his short life and career, Wilde wrote profusely. Born on 16 October, 1854, he was already a brilliant classical scholar in 1873. For his academic career at Oxford was remarkable, he could never have been as idle as he liked to pretend. Indeed he must have read voraciously. Even at this early age Wilde was a man of exceptionally wide culture, having reflected over the writings of Spinoza, Goethe, Hegel, Matthew Arnold, Emerson and Bau