Thalaba the Destroyer

Thalaba the Destroyer

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If so when is this place? What is its relation to the places described in the notes? In a general way, we can see a multiplicity of places coming to bear on each other in this poem, and we can also see that places are associated together that are not literally geographically connected to each other.

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Network analysis is more typically used to map social relations, and some seriously impressive digital humanities projects, like the Six Degrees of Francis Bacon project at Carnegie Mellon University , have built these based on the same kinds of networks social scientists and corporations use to model and discover nodes and hubs in social network systems like Facebook and Twitter. For example, they are used in biological sciences to study protein interactions in physiological systems.

Some basic things to understand about network analyses: They can be graphed as with the Six Degrees of Francis Bacon to show a social network of who interacted with whom—and sometimes how: The Francis Bacon project has chosen a literal representation of the most well-known, highly connected people to make them stand out—James II is a HUGE node here because of the number of his connections. I wanted to see to what extent the place references in the main text and in the annotations form a network: When Southey mentions a wide array of places in a note, where does he come back to mention them again—if ever?

Or when they do come up again, in what contexts do they come up? Which are most crucial for connecting the distinct imagined-worlds of the text and notes together? After some experiments and counselling with Tom, I decided to chunk the poem by discrete line groups or stanzas: This would allow me to collect place references in groups of lines, together with their associated annotations. However, this markup language is also well designed for collecting data for analysis—as I discovered with my experiment this summer.

I could choose to look only at places coded within discrete lines, or within stanzas, or move to a larger scale to look at whole books of the poem. After tagging I wrote scripts to collect and import that data into Cytoscape.

I chose Cytoscape because it has distinct advantages over the alternative available open source network analysis software Gephi and Pajek more typically used in digital humanities work: In TEI, notes are generally coded on the spot in the place at which they are signaled—and this way they are effectively contained with the lines they document. They can be transformed for web or print publication—extracted then to appear, say, in JavaScript pop-up boxes or in a panel alongside the screen, but for the purposes of archiving and analysis—or if you read poems and notes in the TEI— paratext notes are nested within main text and seem to move to the foreground.

For the purposes of this project, the embedded structure of this coding makes it easy to locate the note within a point of interaction—its place with a particular line-group or passage of the poem. I wrote a script to apply distinct line-group numbers, which also signaled Books of the poem, so that these would show up as distinct nodes in the network: Effectively, the labelling of contexts superimposes a new layer of editorial paratext around the structure already present.

These are portions of the poem that move Thalaba significantly far away from Arabia into unidentified polar climes of ice and snow and toward increasingly metaphysical spaces. I wondered about whether and how the place referentiality in Books 8 and 9 would connect with the earlier books. Indeed the analysis reveals that they do connect in a selection of places.

So, even as the settings in the main text of the poem move Thalaba away from the Middle Eastern locations where he began, we continue to see references to a handful key earthly places that mattered in the text and notes in Books 1 and 2, and 5. Thickness of the lines is an indication of edge-betweennesss , something I was especially curious about.

There are certain place and metaplace nodes that hold the realms of the notes and main text together as a coherent whole. I only coded Greece twice in the five books I coded—once in the main text of Book 1 and once in a note in Book 8: Greece was the only place mentioned here that was mentioned anywhere else in the poem—and hence its edge-betweenness at its point of connection to Book 1 line-group 14 is exceptionally important to prevent Book 8 from being a completely isolated cluster of places.

Notice how diverse and diffuse the place references are. The vast majority of places are referenced in annotations, and dashed off once and quickly, but a few places are repeatedly brought into play. On the other hand, nodes that feature lots of edge lines and dotted lines radiating outward have many references—so Babylon and Arabia are pretty important junctions, as are the metaplaces of Heaven and the Tombs.

The network can thus feature the places to which the poem returns at least once. We can also see plenty of places that are disconnected—and this demonstrates something that we can expect of Southey—that a given node often presents its own discreet clustering of juxtaposed places. The metaplaces we see in most proliferation on one side of this diagram do seem to be important nexus points for the association of place across the poem—Heaven and the Tombs for example. Thus, we can refer to this graph to identify all the parts of the poem in which England is mentioned, and in what contexts.

What does this mean? There are a few Places that can only be reached in the World of the Poem through Metaplace access, and this may show us something of the connecting work of supernatural agencies within the poem. Our network analysis helps us to see the profusion of places that Southey generates by moving Thalaba around on the topography of the main text. We should recognize the importance of the Domdaniel sorcerers in motivating that movement of Thalaba away from home—a worldly challenge giving shape to this text.

While the Domdaniel sorcerers work in their own magically-generated metaplace, they operate on the scripts controlling the world of the poem. As a sort of textual machine of poetry and prose paratext, we begin to see how Thalaba the Destroyer works as a world modelling exercise to map correlations across cultures. I finished coding the poem which you can find here on my GitHub for this project , and created new network graphs. And I discovered that adding more places to the graph made it more difficult to read! If we think in terms of geography, of course, the distance is something we measure in quantifiable units kilometers or miles.

A single path step takes you from one node to another along its shared connecting edge. If a node has six other nodes connected directly to it, those six nodes are the ones that are one path step away from this node. Here is what this looks like and since the network is much bigger now, you may wish to click on the image to see it enlarged to fill your screen:. Its length is so great as is the space between Heaven and Earth, its breadth equal to the distance from the East to the West, and it is made of one pearl.

The divine Pen was created by the finger of God: It is so endowed, that self-moved it writes all things, past, present, and to come. Light, is its ink, and the language which it uses, only the Angel Seraphael understands. It is believed also, that on that night the archangel Azrail, the angel of death, gives up also his records and receives another book in which are written the names of all those destined to die in the following year. Mohammed borrowed it from the Persians. I know not from whence the Monks introduced it; probably they were ignorant enough to have invented the obvious fiction.

In the Vision of Thurcillus the ceremony is accurately described. Paul, and opposite him, without, was the Devil and his Angels. At the feet of the Devil a burning pit flamed up, which was the mouth of the Pit of Hell. A Balance equally poised, was fixed upon the wall between the Devil and the Apostle, one scale hanging before each.

The Apostle had two weights, a greater and a less, all shining and like gold, and the Devil also had two smoky and black ones. Therefore the Souls that were all black came one after another, with great fear and trembling, to behold the weighing of their good and evil works: But when the scale inclined and sunk towards the Devil, then he and his Angels snatched the soul miserably howling and cursing the father and mother that begot it to eternal torments, and cast it with laughter and grinning into the deep and fiery pit which was at the feet of the Devil.

Of this Balance of good and evil much may be found in the writings of the holy Fathers. I adjured one of them to tell me from whence they came, and wherefore they made so great an uproar. And he replied that they came from Aix la Chapelle, where a great Lord had died, and that they were returning in anger because they had not been able to carry away his soul.

I asked him who the great Lord was, and why they had not been able to carry away his soul. He replied that it was Charlemagne, and that Saint Jago had been greatly against them. And I asked him how St.

Jago had been against them; and he replied, we were weighing the good and the evil which he had done in this world, and Saint Jago brought so much timber and so many stones from the churches which he had founded in his name, that they greatly over-balanced all his evil works; and so we had no power over his soul. And having said this the Devil disappeared.

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We must understand from this vision of Archbishop Turpin, that they who build or repair churches in this world, erect resting places and inns for their salvation. Two other corollaries follow from the vision. This Balance of the Dead was an easy and apt metaphor, but clumsily imagined as an actual mode of trial. The classical reader will remember the equivocations of Apollo, the fable of the young man and the Lion in the tapestry will be more generally recollected: The History of the Buccaneers affords a remarkable instance of prophecy occasioning its own accomplishment.

Coxon , in company with three or four more Privateers, about four leagues to the East of Portobel , we took the packets bound thither from Carthagena. This door they spake of we all concluded must be the passage over land through the country of the Indians of Darien , who were a little before this become our friends, and had lately fallen out with the Spaniards , breaking off the intercourse which for some time they had with them: And upon calling also to mind the frequent invitations we had from those Indians a little before this time, to pass through their Country, and fall upon the Spaniards in the South-Seas , we from henceforward began to entertain such thoughts in earnest, and soon came to a resolution to make those attempts which we afterwards did with Capt.

So that the taking these letters gave the first life to those bold undertakings: And we took the advantage of the fears the Spaniards were in from that prophecy, or probable conjecture, or whatever it were; for we sealed up most of the letters again, and sent them ashore to Portobel. Alone, beside a rivulet it stands The Upas 1 Tree of Death. Tree grows not near, nor bush, nor flower, nor herb, The Earth has lost its parent powers of life And the fresh dew of Heaven that there descends, Steams in rank poison up.

Before the appointed Youth and Maimuna Saw the first struggle of the dying throng, Crash sunk their prison wall! The whirlwind wrapt them round; Borne in the Chariot of the Winds Ere there was time to fear, their way was past, And lo! Then came the weakness of her natural age At once on Maimuna; The burthen of her years Fell on her, and she knew That her repentance in the sight of God Had now found favour, and her hour was come.

The joy of certain hope Lit a last lustre, and in death The smile was on her cheek. Thalaba laid her in the snow, And took his weapons from the hearth, And then once more the youth began His weary way of solitude. The breath of the East is in his face And it drives the sleet and the snow. The air is keen, the wind is keen, His limbs are aching with the cold, His eyes are aching 4 with the snow, His very heart is cold, His spirit chilled within him.

He looks on If ought of life be near, But all is sky and the white wilderness, And here and there a solitary pine, Its branches broken by the weight of snow. His pains abate, his senses dull With suffering, cease to suffer. Languidly, languidly, Thalaba drags along, A heavy weight is on his lids, His limbs move slow with heaviness, And he full fain would sleep. Not yet, not yet, O Thalaba! Thy hour of rest is come; Not yet may the Destroyer sleep The comfortable sleep, His journey is not over yet, His course not yet fulfilled;.

Run thou thy race, O Thalaba! The prize is at the goal. It was a Cedar-tree That woke him from the deadly drowsiness; Its broad, round-spreading 5 branches when they felt The snow, rose upward in a point to heaven, And standing in their strength erect, Defied the baffled storm. He knew the lesson Nature gave, And he shook off his heaviness, And hope revived within him. Louder grows the biting wind, And it drifts the dust of the snow.

The snow is clotted in his hair, The breath of Thalaba Is iced upon his lips. He looks around, the darkness, The dizzy floating of the snow, Close in his narrow view. He doubting other wiles of enmity, With mingled joy and quicker step, Bends his way thitherward.

A Fount of Fire that in the centre played, Rolled all around its wonderous rivulets And fed the garden with the heat of life. There lay a Damsel sleeping on a couch, His step awoke her, and she gazed at him With pleased and wondering look, Fearlessly, like a yearling child Too ignorant to fear. With words of courtesy The young intruder spake. Thalaba stood mute awhile And wondering at her words: I did not think Sorrow and toil could so have altered me, That I seem otherwise.

And thou canst be warm Sometimes?

Surely Lady As others are, I am, to heat and cold Subject like all, you see a Traveller, Bound upon hard adventure, who requests Only to rest him here to-night, to-morrow He will pursue his way. Not like a dream of joy, depart so soon! And whither wouldst thou go? Why dost thou watch with hesitating eyes The banquet? I bade it come. Matters it from whence it came My father sent it: I will not eat! It came by magic! Let loose my cloak! Why dost thou stand and gaze upon my face?

And this remembered cowardice and insult With a more painful shame will burn thy cheek Than now beats mine in anger! Many and restless are my enemies; My daily paths have been beset with snares Till I have learnt suspicion, bitter sufferings Teaching the needful vice, if I have wronged you, And yours should be the face of innocence, I pray you pardon me! Is it not not delicate food? I have heard many spells and many names That rule the Genii and the Elements, But never these. He made this dwelling, and the grove, And yonder fountain-fire, and every morn He visits me, and takes the snow, and moulds Women and men, like thee; and breathes into them Motion, and life, and sense,.

Oh then how I rejoice When it is day and my dear Father comes, And chears me with kind words and kinder looks! My dear, dear, Father! And have you always had your dwelling here Amid this solitude of snow? I can remember with unsteady feet Tottering from room to room, and finding pleasure In flowers and toys and sweetmeats, things that long Have lost their power to please; that when I see them Raise only now a melancholy wish I were the little trifler once again That could be pleased so lightly! I besought him once To give me power like his, that where he went I might go with him: And wherefore has he hidden you thus far From all the ways of humankind?

He read 7 the stars And saw a danger in my destiny, And therefore placed me here amid the snows, And laid a spell that never human eye, If foot of man by chance should reach the depth Of this wide waste, shall see one trace of grove, Garden, or dwelling-place, or yonder fire, That thaws and mitigates the frozen sky.

And more than this, even if the enemy Should come, I have a guardian here. Else I had called his succour! But if a Woman can have terrified thee, How wilt thou bare his unrelaxing brow And lifted lightnings? Over the garden and the grove The fountain streams of fire Poured a broad light like noon. The various verdure of the grove Now wore one undistinguishable grey, Checqured with blacker shade.

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And now that I can see a human face, And hear a human voice. Alas I must not rest! The star that ruled at my nativity Shone with a strange and blasting influence. I should draw upon you A killing curse. But I will ask my Father To save you from all danger, and you know not The wonders he can work, and when I ask It is not in his power to say me nay.

Oh no, there's been an error

Perhaps thou knowest the happiness it is To have a tender father? He was one Whom like a loathsome leper I have tainted With my contagious destiny. At evening He kist me as he wont, and laid his hands Upon my head, and blest me ere I slept. His dying groan awoke me, for the Murderer Had stolen upon our sleep! It was a brazen 8 Image, every limb And swelling vein and muscle, true to life:

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