Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained

Dora Greenwell’s "Saturday Review" offers a biting commentary on the disillusionment and cynicism propagated by the influential periodical, The Saturday Review, which was known for its sharp critiques of literature, society, and culture. Through the poem, Greenwell critiques the increasing skepticism and intellectual superiority of the time, especially as it dismisses ideals like truth, love, and goodness, reducing them to outdated sentiments. The poem presents a contrast between youthful innocence and the harsh, more cynical worldview that Greenwell associates with the modern intellectual climate.

The poem opens with a familiar adage, "Learn to live, and live and learn," a rule that was once embraced during the speaker’s school years. However, the speaker reveals that what was once an "excellent rule" has now become a serious concern due to the "number of things [she’s] had to unlearn" after being exposed to the perspectives of The Saturday Review. This reversal reflects the intellectual shift from a simpler belief in virtues like love and truth to a more skeptical, even dismissive, outlook that dominates contemporary thought. Greenwell quickly establishes the tone of the poem as a reflection on lost innocence and the complexities of adult disillusionment.

The speaker then moves on to recollections of youthful beliefs: "For once (I believe) I believed in truth / And love, and the hundred foolish things / One sees in one';s dreams and believes in one';s youth." The use of "foolish" here is laden with irony, as the speaker suggests that what was once considered pure and true—belief in "Angels with curls, and in Angels with wings," and in "Saints, and Heroes"—has been undermined by the skeptical, intellectual stance championed by The Saturday Review. The references to classic figures from literature, such as David and Virgil, reinforce this sense of nostalgia for a time when stories and ideals were believed to be drawn from life itself. Now, however, the speaker finds that these figures have been stripped of their grandeur, reduced to mundane or "uncouth" representations of reality, such as the "soulless" Shepherd who only cares for "bacon."

This shift from a world filled with meaning to one dominated by material concerns sets the stage for Greenwell’s critique of modern attitudes toward charity and compassion. In the past, the speaker once believed that it was important to "help the poor stragglers left behind," reflecting a time when she saw value in assisting those less fortunate. However, the speaker laments that society now dismisses such ideals as outdated, with even acts of charity and care being relegated to "Old Maids" who are perceived as engaging in charitable work only because they have "failed at all other trades."

Greenwell’s critique becomes even sharper as she delves into the hypocrisy of modern society, which she compares to the biblical Priest and Levite who passed by the wounded traveler on the road to Jericho, leaving the Good Samaritan to offer assistance. The "Good Samaritan" figures in modern society—those who genuinely care for others—are often "spattered, battered, blackened, and bruised" by the very people they seek to help, yet these compassionate individuals continue their work because "it';s their vocation." Greenwell points out the irony that the most selfless people are often the ones who receive the harshest treatment, while society as a whole turns a blind eye to true suffering.

Greenwell expands this critique to the public’s appetite for spectacle and entertainment, noting that while moral and social issues are ignored, the masses flock to see sensational events like tightrope walking (Blondin) and boxing matches (Heenan and Sayers), which are treated with approval and celebration. The line "Meet never a line';s reproving" highlights the lack of moral or intellectual criticism for such frivolous or violent pursuits, contrasting with the scorn reserved for those who engage in charitable or moral work.

The latter part of the poem reflects on the broader implications of this cultural shift. Greenwell imagines a future where even nature and the simple pleasures of life may be dismissed as irrelevant or outdated: "Will the violets come out blue? / Will the rose be red, and will lovers woo / In the foolish way that they used to do?" This speculation underscores Greenwell’s fear that modern society, with its growing emphasis on intellectual superiority and skepticism, may lose its appreciation for beauty, love, and natural wonder. The suggestion that "spring" might be abolished entirely reflects the speaker’s sense that society has grown "so hard to please" that even the cyclical renewal of life could be deemed unnecessary.

In a particularly biting passage, Greenwell extends this vision of disillusionment to the relationships between family members, imagining a future where "Fathers and Mothers may have to go," and "Brothers and Sisters be voted slow." Even Christmas, a holiday traditionally associated with joy and familial connection, is reduced to "a tax that one';s forced to pay." This stark view of a world where personal relationships and traditional values are discarded in favor of materialism and skepticism reveals Greenwell’s deep concern for the loss of emotional and spiritual depth in society.

The poem concludes with a critique of the materialistic philosophy that Greenwell sees as replacing more meaningful beliefs. The speaker imagines a future where the only creed left is "I believe in a Round of Beef, / And live by a leg of Mutton," reducing human existence to mere consumption. Greenwell contrasts this shallow worldview with the enduring challenges of life—"Life has its problems hard to clear"—which cannot be solved or dismissed by the "sneer / Of the sharpest, smartest Reviewer." This final line underscores the limitations of intellectualism and skepticism when it comes to addressing life’s deeper questions, suggesting that even the most sophisticated critiques cannot replace the values of compassion, faith, and emotional connection.

In "Saturday Review," Dora Greenwell offers a nuanced critique of the growing cynicism and detachment of modern society, as well as the intellectual culture that dismisses traditional values of love, truth, and compassion. Through sharp wit and irony, Greenwell laments the loss of innocence and the increasing tendency to prioritize materialism and spectacle over genuine human connection and moral responsibility. The poem serves as both a reflection on the changing values of her time and a cautionary reminder of the enduring importance of love, kindness, and faith in a world that may increasingly seek to trivialize them.

POEM TEXT:

LEARN to live, and live and learn,

In the days when I used to go to

school,

Would always pass for an excellent rule ;

But now it';s grown a serious concern

The number of things I';ve had to unlearn

Since first I began the page to turn

Of The Saturday Review.

For once (I believe) I believed in truth

And love, and the hundred foolish things

One sees in one';s dreams and believes in one';s

youth,-

ln Angels with curls, and in Angels with

wings,

In Saints, and Heroes, and Shepherds too ;

The pictures that David and Virgil drew

So sweetly, I thought were taken

From very life, but now I find

A Shepherd is but an uncouth Hind,

Songless, soulless, from time out of mind,

Who has cared for nothing but bacon.

And though to confess it may well seem strange,

When I had them by scores and dozens

(I was young, to be sure, and all things change),

I really have liked my cousins,

And schoolfellows too, and can bring to mind

Some uncles of mine who were truly kind,

And aunts who were far from crusty ;

And even my country neighbours too

Didn';t seem by half such a tedious crew

As now I find they must be.

And I used to think it might be kind,

In the world';s great marching order,

To help the poor stragglers left behind,

Halt and maimed, and broken and blind,

On their way to a distant border ;

Not to speak of the virtuous poor, I thought

There was here and there a sinner

Might be mended a little, though not of the sort

One would think of asking to dinner.

But now I find that no one believes

In Ragged Children, or Penitent Thieves,

Or Homeless Homes, but a few Old Maids

Who have tried and failed at all other trades

And who take to these things for recreation

In their aimless life';s dull Long Vacation.

And so as we';re going along with the Priest

And Levite (the roads are more dry in the

East)

We need have no hesitation,

When the mud is lying about so thick,

To scatter a little and let it stick

To the coat of the Good Samaritan, used

To be spattered, battered, blackened, and

bruised;

These sort of people don';t mind it the leastWhy,

bless you, it';s their vocation I

Yet sometimes I';ve thought it a little strange,When

good people get such very hard change,

In return for their kindly halfpence,

When the few who are grieved for sorrows and

sins

Are bowled to the earth like wooden pins,

When to care for the heathen, or pity the

slave,

Sets a man down for fool or knave,

With The Saturday in its sapience,Things

that are mean and base and low

Are checked by never a word or blow ;

The gaping crowds that go in hope

To see Blondin slip from the cruel rope

Tightened or slack, and come away

In trust of more luck another day,

Meet never a line';s reproving;

Heenan and Sayers may pound and thwack

Each other blue and yellow and black,

And only get a pat on the back

From the power that keeps all moving.

And I sometimes think, if this same Review,

And the world a little longer too

Should last, will the violets come out blue 1

Will the rose be red, and will lovers woo

In the foolish way that they used to do 1

Will doves in the summer woodlands coo,

And the nightingales mourn without asking

leave 1

Will the lark have an instinct left to cleave

The sunny air with her song and her wing ?..Perhaps

we may move to abolish spring ;

And now that we';ve grown so hard to please,

W ~ may think that we';re bored by the grass

and the trees ;

The moon may be proved a piece of cheese,

Or an operatic delusion.

Fathers and Mothers may have to go,

Brothers and Sisters be voted slow

Christmas a tax that one';s forced to pay,

And Heaven itself but an out-of-the-way

Old-fashioned place that has had its day,

That one wouldn';t a residence ~hoose in.

And though so easily learnt, and brief

Is the form our new faith';s put in,

When we';ve said, "I believe in a Round of Beef,

And live by a leg of Mutton,"

We come to another region of facts,

That are met quite as well by the Gospel and Acts

As by any teaching that';s newer-

Life has its problems hard to clear,

And its knots too stiff to be cut by the sneer

Of the sharpest, smartest Reviewer.

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