S O L I T U D E

 

 

                             S O L I T U D E

                            (A poem by Alexander Pope)

Dictionaries define solitude as the state of being alone especially, when one finds it pleasant and enjoyable. Its synonymous words are: isolation, retirement and privacy.   

            Before dealing with Alexander Pope’s poem , let us have a look at some interesting quotations on the benefits of solitude. According to American author Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1888) it is easy, in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it  is easy, in solitude, to live after your own; but the great man is he who, in the midst of the crowd, keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.

           

            Another American author, Bruce Barton (1886-1967) says “ It would do the world good if every man in it would compel himself occasionally to be absolutely alone. Most of the world’s progress has come out of such loneliness.”.

 

            English divine, Sydney Smith (1771-1845) thinks that solitude cherishes great virtues and destroys little ones.

           

            In a slightly different vein, American writer, Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-64) asks what would a man do if he were compelled to live in  the sultry heat of society , and could never better himself in cool solitude.

           

            William Mathews (1818-1909), who, too, is an American author,  holds this view “In the world, a man lives in his own age; in solitude in all ages.”

 

            Alexander Pope was  born on 21^st May 1688. He died on 30 May 1744. His whole life was one long struggle of an active, keen intellect with physical weakness and pain. He was a small, sickly, deformed child, with an irritable, sensitive temperament, which often led him into an uncontrollable bitterness of feelings. These traits played a major role in making  him a great satirist.

 

He wrote copiously and authored some permanent quotations like :

 

            A little learning is a dang’ous thing;

            Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.

           

            True wit is nature to advantage dressed,

            What oft was  thought, but ne’er so well expressed.

 

            For forms of government let fools contest:

            Whate’er is best administered is best.

Pope was a born poet. He says of himself :

            “As yet a chid, not  yet a fool to fame,

            I lisped in numbers, for the numbers came.”

Pope lived by poetry.  His satirical poetry was  the only source of his income. He is perhaps the first English poet to introduce closed-couplets.  His language is easy but very powerful for its intended effects. Some of his famous works are a mock-heroic epic The Rape of the Lock; Essay on Man and Essay On Criticism.

 

            SOLITUDE is one of those poems which have preserved their relevance and  popularity till today. It was written when the poet was barely twelve years old. Its theme is not original but it is  certainly eternal.Like Pope another contemporary poet James Thomson (1700-1748) wrote Hymn on Solitude(1729) with the notion that there is virtue, as well as contentment, to be found in solitude.        

     

                           Hail, mildly pleasing solitude,

                           Companion of the wise and good.

Pope’s poem, too, is centred around contentment, a religious virtue which is lacking in the present-day affluent society. How unhappy is the modern man living in congested cities where he has no time to stand  and stare.  His lust for more land, more wealth,  more luxuries has robbed him of the blessings of solitude. He is cut off from the delightful beauty of nature, is entangled in crowds of sickly, unhappy men and women who do not know what sound sleep is. Their life does not depend upon home-made wholesome food  but on junk food which makes them a prey to many diseases. Their sedentary life-style is another curse from which non-urban people quite safe.  It is in this context that  Pope’ poem is relevant even today.

                        Here is the text of the poem:

            Happy is the man, whose wish and care

            A  few paternal acres bound,

            Content to breathe his native air

            In his own ground.

 

            Whose herds with milk, whose fields with  bread,

            Whose flock supply him with attire;

            Whose trees in summer yield him shade,

            In winter, fire.

 

            Blest, who can unconcern’dly find

            Hours, days and years slide soft away

            In heath of body, peace of mind,

            Quiet by day,

           

            Sound sleep by night; study and ease

            Together mixt , sweet recreation,

            And innocence, which most does please

            With meditation.

 

            Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;

Thus unlamented let me die;

Steal from the world, and not a stone

Tell where I lie.

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14^th January 2022                                   G.R.Kanwal