Sri Aurobindo
Letters on Poetry and Art
SABCL - Volume 27
Part 2. On His Own and Others’ Poetry
Section 1. On His Poetry and Poetic Method
Early Poetic Influences
Influences on Love and Death
I shall be really
happy if you will tell me the way in which you created
Love and Death — the first falling of the seed of the idea, the growth
and maturing of it, the influences assimilated from other poets, the mood and
atmosphere you used to find most congenial and productive, the experience and
the frequency of the afflatus, the pace at which you composed, the evolution of
that multifarious, many-echoed yet perfectly original style ... In my essay,
“Sri Aurobindo — the Poet”, I tried to show the white harmony, so to speak, of
Love and Death in a kind of spectrum analysis, how colours from Latin,
Italian, Sanskrit and English verse had fused here together with an absolutely
original ultra-violet and infra-red not to be traced anywhere. Among English
influences the most outstanding are, to my mind, Shakespeare, Milton, Keats and
Stephen Phillips, along with something of Shelley and Coleridge.
I cannot tell you much about it from that point of
view; I did not draw consciously from any of the poets you mention except from
Phillips. I read Marpessa and Christ in Hades before they were
published and as I was just in the stage of formation then — at the age of 17 —
they made a powerful impression which lasted until it was worked out in Love
and Death. I dare say some influence of most of the great English poets and
of others also, not English, can be traced in my poetry — I can myself see that
of Milton, sometimes of Wordsworth and Arnold; but it was of the automatic kind
— they came in unnoticed. I am not aware of much influence of Shelley and
Coleridge, but since I read Shelley a great deal and took an intense pleasure in
some of Coleridge’s poetry, they may have been there without my knowledge. The
one work of Keats that influenced me was Hyperion — I dare say my blank
verse got something of his stamp through that. The poem
itself was written in a white heat of inspiration during 14 days of continuous
writing — in the mornings only of course, for I had to attend office the rest of
the day and saw friends in the evening. I never wrote anything with such ease
and rapidity before or after. Your other questions I can’t very well answer — I
have lived ten lives since then and don’t remember. I don’t think there was any
falling of the seed of the idea or growth and maturing of it; it just came —
from my reading about the story of Ruru in the Mahabharata; I thought,
Well, here’s a subject, and the rest burst out of itself. Mood and atmosphere? I
never depended on these things that I know of — something wrote in me or didn’t
write, more often didn’t, and that is all I know about it. Evolution of style
and verse? Well, it evolved, I suppose — I assure you I didn’t build it. I was
not much of a critic in those days — the critic grew in me by Yoga like the
philosopher, and as for self-criticism the only standard I had was whether I
felt satisfied with what I wrote or not, and generally I felt it was very fine
when I wrote it and found it was very bad after it had been written, but I could
not at that time have given you a reason either for the self-eulogy or the
self-condemnation. Nowadays it is different, of course,— for I am conscious of
what I do and how things are done. I am afraid this will not enlighten you much
but it is all I can tell you.
3 July 1933