Robert Burns:
‘A strong appetite for sociability’
After Henryson we come, over three hundred years later, to the
outstanding representative of the Scottish contribution – Robert Burns
(1759-1796). By this time, especially following unification early in the
18th century, Scotland was no longer isolated from England, and an
educated Scot was proficient in English as well as the native dialect
derived from Middle-Scottish. Burns, accordingly, wrote his poetry in
both dictions but it is chiefly in his Scots verse that his genius is
apparent.
This was mostly written within two years, ’85 and ’86, and it is
here, apart from the vast number of songs that he wrote or revived, that
his fame rests. The Scottish dialect, homely, earthy and racy, proved to
be the ideal medium, as the English rarely did for Burns’ personality.
His own description of this also fits his poetry: “..a strong appetite
for sociability as well from native hilarity as from pride of
observation and remark…a certain wild logical talent, and a strength of
thought something like the rudiments of good sense..”
It is a personality which causes him to sympathise with the
underprivileged and the vulnerable as well as to be critical of the
privileged and exploitative elements of society. Yet, whatever the
attitude, it is conveyed with a characteristic ebullience that finds
expression in a poetry that is both comic and satirical. Sometimes the
satire is tolerant, sometimes it is intolerant. The outstanding example
of the latter is ‘Holy Willie’s Prayer’, described by Walter Scott as “
a piece of satire more exquisitely severe than any which Burns ever
afterwards wrote.”
|
Robert
Burns |
It is also a supreme example of comic irony, since its subject is
unaware that his imprecations, (to use the word both in its old sense of
‘prayers’ and in its present sense of ‘curses’), are serving to expose
the full extent of his religious hypocrisy: After the mock-humility of
these words: “What was I, or my generation, That I should get sic
exaltation ….Yet I am here, a chosen sample, To show Thy grace is great
and ample;” we have the sheer envy of these: “L-d, mind Gawn Hamilton’s
deserts! He drinks, and swears, and plays at cartes, Yet has sae mony
takin’ arts Wi’ grit and sma’, Frae G-d’s ain priests the people’s
hearts He steals awa’”; the appalling vindictiveness of these: “Curse
Thou his basket and his store, Kail and potatoes!..And pass not in Thy
mercy by ‘em And dinna spare!”; followed by the delusional
self-exaltation of the conclusion: “But, L-d, remember me and mine Wi’
mercies temp’ral and divine, That I for gear and grace may shine
Excelled by nane..” (The diction is intelligible if one bears in mind
that it often substitutes “i”, “ae” and “o” for the accustomed vowels
and omits consonants. Thus ‘sic’ for ‘such’, ‘frae’ for ‘from’ and
‘mony’ for ‘many’.)
‘To a Louse’ is an example of Burns’ more tolerant, but no less
comical, satire. Its subtitle is ‘On Seeing One on a Lady’s Bonnet at
Church’. It begins: “HA! Where ye gaun, ye crowlin’ ferlie! Your
impudence protects you sairly: I canna say but ye strunt rarely Owre
gauze and lace; Though, faith, I fear ye dine but sparely On sic a
place”; and continues “Ye ugly, creepin’ blastit wonner, Detested,
shunned by saunt an’ sinner, How dare ye set your fit upon her, Sae fine
a lady! Gae somewhere else, and seek your dinner On some puir body.”
That last line implicitly deplores the gentlefolk’s attitude towards the
lower orders, this continuing into the next verse: “Swith! In some
beggar’s haffet squattle; There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle”.
The irony reaches its comic pitch when the louse becomes plainly
visible at the top of the bonnet of the lady who, in blissful ignorance,
believes that she is making a grand impression: “O Jenny, dinna toss
your head, And set your beauties a’ abread! Ye little ken (know) “a
strong appetite for sociability” what cursed speed The blastie’s makin’!
Thae winks and finger-ends, I dread, Are notice takin’!”
In the last verse, with its famous opening couplet, Burns reveals
that the lady’s laughable plight is actually an extreme representation
of a universal failing: “Oh wad some Power the giftie gie us To see
oursel’s as others see us! It wad frae monie a blunder free us And
foolish notion: What airs in dress an’ gait wad lea’e us, And e’en
devotion!”
But there is also a warmly compassionate side to Burns’ comic
criticism of life. This is to be seen in ‘To a Mouse’, which he wrote
after he had saved a startled mouse from being killed by his
farm-hand.”WEE, sleekit, cowrin’, tim’rous beastie, Oh, what panic in
thy breastie! Thou needna start awa’ sae hasty, Wi’ bick’ring brattle; I
wad be laith to rin and chase thee Wi’ murd’ring pattle (plough-cleaning
tool).”
His compassion enables him to realise the gross injustice of man’s
mistreatment of what are actually his fellow-creatures: “I’m truly sorry
man’s dominion Has broken nature’s social union, And justifies that ill-
opinion Which maks thee startle At me, thy poor earth-born companion And
fellow-mortal.”
This sense of fellowship with the animal creation prompts the moral
of the penultimate verse, with its equally famous third line: “But
Mousie, thou art no thy lane (not alone) In proving foresight may be
vain; The best-laid schemes o’ mice and men Gang aft a-gley (go oft
awry), And lea’e us nought but grief and pain For promised joy.”
The serious note struck here finds fuller expression in the longer
poem, ‘The Twa Dogs’. This is a dialogue between two dogs, one a member
of an aristocratic household, the other belonging to a poor ploughman.
Through the mutual observations of the dogs about their respective
masters, Burns dramatically contrasts the life-styles of the rich and
the poor and leaves us in no doubt that his sympathies lie with the
latter. The aristocratic dog could, in fact, be a metamorphosed version
of the poet himself: “His locked, lettered, braw brass collar Showed him
the gentleman and scholar; But though he was o’ high degree, The fient a
pride, nae pride had he, But wad hae spent an hour caressin’ E’en wi’ a
tinkler-gipsy’s messin (mongrel)” His assessment of his idly rich
masters shows the “wild logical talent and strength of thought” that
Burns attributed to himself: “Lord, man were ye but whyles whare I am,
The gentles ye wad ne’er envy them. It’s true they need na starve or
sweat, Through winter’s cauld or simmer’s heat; They’ve nae sair wark to
craze theur banes, An’ fill auld age with grips an’ granes: But human
bodies are sic fools, That when nae real ills perplex them, They make
enow themselves to vex them; An aye the less they hae to sturt (trouble)
them, In like proportion less will hurt them.”. The wit of that last
couplet is reminiscent of Pope.
After the lowly dog’s description of an occasion of merrymaking in
his humble household, he adds one of the most heart-warming comments in
Burns’ poetry: “The cantie (merry) auld folks crackin’ crouse (chatting
cheerfully), The young anes rantin’ through the house - My heart has
been sae fain (glad) to see them, That I for joy hae barkit wi’ them.”
How often we have seen a dog joining in the fun with the rest of the
family with joyful barking. Only a genuine animal-lover could have thus
understood the depth of a dog’s affection for his masters, and only a
genuine lover of humanity could have been so moved by contemplating the
simple joys of the poor. We understand more fully the breadth and the
depth of Burns’ “strong appetite for sociability.”
For prosody Burns relied on traditional Scottish forms, such as the
‘sixain’ used in the first three poems discussed above, as well as
accustomed English forms like the octosyllabic rhymed couplet used in
‘Twa Dogs’. These regular measures are throughout enlivened by Burns’
highly individual style. We might describe this as ‘stream of
commentary’ since, by the sheer vigour of its expression and the sheer
energy of its rhythm, it seems to enable Burns to carry everything
before him.
|