Adonais is the first writing by Shelley which
has been included in the Clarendon Press Series.
It is a poem of convenient length for such a purpose,
being neither short nor decidedly long; and—leaving
out of count some of the short poems—is
the one by this author which approaches nearest to
being ‘popular.’ It is elevated in
sentiment, classical in form,—in substance,
biographical in relation to Keats, and in some minor
degree autobiographical for Shelley himself. On
these grounds it claimed a reasonable preference over
all his other poems, for the present method of treatment;
although some students of Shelley, myself included,
might be disposed to maintain that, in point of absolute
intrinsic beauty and achievement, and of the qualities
most especially characteristic of its author, it is
not superior, or indeed is but barely equal, to some
of his other compositions. To take, for instance,
two poems not very different in length from Adonais—The
Witch of Atlas is more original, and Epipsychidion
more abstract in ideal.
I have endeavoured to present in my introductory matter
a comprehensive account of all particulars relevant
to Adonais itself, and to Keats as its subject,
and Shelley as its author. The accounts here given
of both these great poets are of course meagre, but
I assume them to be not insufficient for our immediate
and restricted purpose. There are many other
books which the reader can profitably consult as to
the life and works of Shelley; and three or four (at
least) as to the life and works of Keats. My
concluding notes are, I suppose, ample in scale:
if they are excessive, that is an involuntary error
on my part. My aim in them has been to illustrate
and elucidate the poem in its details, yet without
travelling far afield in search of remote analogies
or discursive comment—my wish being rather
to ‘stick to my text’: wherever a
difficulty presents itself, I have essayed to define
it, and clear it up—but not always to my
own satisfaction. I have seldom had to discuss
the opinions of previous writers on the same points,
for the simple reason that of detailed criticism of
Adonais, apart from merely textual memoranda,
there is next to none.
It has appeared to me to be part of my duty to point
out here and there, but by no means frequently, some
special beauty in the poem; occasionally also something
which seems to me defective or faulty. I am aware
that this latter is an invidious office, which naturally
exposes one to an imputation, from some quarters,
of obtuseness, and, from others, of presumption; none
the less I have expressed myself with the frankness
which, according to my own view, belongs to the essence
of such a task as is here undertaken. Adonais
is a composition which has retorted beforehand upon
its actual or possible detractors. In the poem
itself, and in the prefatory matter adjoined to it,
Shelley takes critics very severely to task:
but criticism has its discerning and temperate, as
well as its ‘stupid and malignant’ phases.
