Tesis doctoral self y modernidad. La poesia de david herbert lawrence


APÉNDICES APÉNDICE A: POEMARIOS PUBLICADOS EN VIDA DEL AUTOR



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APÉNDICES

APÉNDICE A: POEMARIOS PUBLICADOS EN VIDA DEL AUTOR

Primeras ediciones (véase Warren Roberts y Robert Poplaski, A Bibliography of D. H.

Lawrence, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 2003).
Love Poems and Others, Duckworth and Co., febrero, 1913, Londres.

Amores, Duckworth and Co., julio, 1916, Londres.

Look! We Have Come Through!, Chatto and Windus, noviembre, 1917, Londres.

New Poems, Martin Secker, octubre, 1918, Londres.

Bay, Cyril Beaumont, noviembre, 1919. Londres.

Tortoises, Thomas Seltzer, diciembre, 1921. Nueva York.

Birds, Beasts and Flowers, Thomas Seltzer, octubre, 1923, Nueva York.

Collected Poems, (2 Volúmenes): Rhyming Poems. Unrhyming Poems, Martin Secker,

septiembre, 1928, Londres.



Pansies, Martin Secker, julio,1929, Londres.

Nettles, Faber and Faber Limited, marzo 1930, Londres.

Last Poems and More Pansies, Richard Aldington y Giuseppe Orioli (eds.), G. Orioli,

octubre, 1932, Florencia.



APÉNDICE B : MANUSCRITOS
I. La relación general más completa hasta la fecha del listado y localización de los manuscritos y pruebas de las distintas obras de D. H. Lawrence (tanto en prosa como en verso) es la proporcionada por Warren Roberts y Paul Poplawski en la sección E de la tercera edición de su clásico A Bibliography of D. H. Lawrence, Cambrige University Press, 2001, pp. 565-692, la cual se basa en trabajos precentes que van desde Lawrence Clark Powell (The Manuscripts of D. H. Lawrence, The Public Library, Los Angeles, 1937), E. W. Tedlock Jr, (The Frieda Collection of D.H. Lawrence Manuscripts: A Descriptive Bibliography, Alburquerque, University of New Mexico Press, 1948), a David Farm (A Descriptive and Analytic Catalogue of the D. H. Lawrence Collection at the University of Texas, University of Texas at Austin, 1970), Egon Tiedje (en la DHLR, v4, n.3,1971 y v. 5, n1, 1972), y Lindeth Vasey (en Keith Sagar D. H. Lawrence: A Calendar of His Works, with a checklist of the manuscripts, University of Texas Press, Austin 1979, pp. 191-265 (véase la Bibliografía). A estos estudios hay que unir los fondos existentes en distintas bibliotecas, colecciones privadas y entidades académicas (véase Roberts y Poplaski, ibid., pp. 565-566 y John Worthen, 2005,pp. 427-428).
II. Obra Poética: La profesora Carole Ferrier ha dedicado gran parte de su trabajo académico como experta en D. H. Lawrence al análisis, catalogación y localización del corpus poetico del autor británico. Un útil compendio es el que aparece en “D. H. Lawrence´s pre-1920 Poetry: A Descriptive Bibliography of Manuscripts,Typescripts and Proofs”, en DHLR, V. 6, No. 3, pp. 33-359, 1973 y “D. H. Lawrence´s Poetry, 1920-1928: A Descriptive Bibliography of Manuscripts,Typescripts and Proofs”, en DHLR, V. 12, No. 3, 1979 (véase la Bibliografía). Los estudiosos están aún a la espera de que Cambridge University Press publique la edición “variorum” de toda la poesía del autor inglés realizada por dicha profesora.
III. Gail Porter Mandell, en el Appendix A de su obra The Phoenix Paradox, a Study of Renewal Through Change in the Collected Poems and Last Poems of D. H. Lawrence, Southern Illinois University Press,1984, Carbondale, pp. 155-162 (véase la Bibliografía), proporciona una relación que incluye la nomenclatura, localización y descripción de los distintos manuscritos y originales mecanografiados de la poesía de Lawrence.

APÉNDICE C:
VERSIONES de “DREAMS: OLD” . “DREAMS: NASCENT” (según Gail Mandell,1984: 167-180)

*: lineas introducidas por Lawrence en letra pequeña. { }, ( ): palabras borradas o enmendadas.


1. Versiones del Manuscrito 1 (Roberts E317;Ferrier MS1) de la Biblioteca de la Universidad de Nottingham.
Version A. “A Still Afternoon in School”
I have opened the window to warm my hands on the sill

Where the sunshine soaks in the stone.

The afternoon is full of dreams, my Love, the boys are adream, all still

In a wishful dream of Lorna Doone.
The clink of the shunting engines is sharp and fine

Like savage music striking far-off.

On the great, uplifted blue Palace, light-pools stir and shine

In distance

(Among) the blue grass, domed and soft.
There lies the world, my darling, full of wonder and wistfulness and strange

Recognitions and greetings of unknown things:

The frail blue palace, which my {change, wonderful}, working years cannot change—*
forgotten (the old) music

Far-off, hollow pleasure-domes, where (no merriment} sings*
Dream of a great blue place uplifted, and a nearer dream

{o, O} Dora (D, C} opperfield and Norwood Hill

Wandering down the long dream tossed years where the hill and the gleam

Of glass open the doors of the years that now lie still
. I can see no hill aright, for the snows of yesteryear

Still cover the slopes with memories and soft

Warm reflections from the sunsets of glowing souls that were here

Once, and are here forever.
There they lie, they are visible like a picture, But the men who move

Along the railway, the active figures of men

They have a secret, that flows in their limbs as they move

(Far) In the distance, and they command my drea {d, m} ful world.
Here in the subtle, rounded flesh, and eternal eyes

Lies the great desired, the beloved

labours

Here in the rounded flesh (is throned) the power, the hope, the God

The eternal creator—these are creators—the rest are dreams, the finished, the created
Oh my boys, bending your heads over your books

It is in you that life is trembling and fusing and creating

The new pattern of a dream —dream of a generation

I watch you to see the creators, the power that patterns the dreams
Dreams are beautiful, fixed and finite,

But Oh My Love, the dream-stuff is molten and moving mysteriously

Fascinating my eyes, for I, am I not also dream stuff

Am I not quickening diffusing myself in the pattern, shaping and shapen
Here in my class is the answer for the {g, G} reat {y, Y} earning

Eyes where {one,I} can watch the swim of dreams reflected on the molten metal of dreams

Watch the stir which is rhythmic, and moves them all like a heart-beat moves the blood

Here, in the swelling flesh the great activity working

Visible there in the change of eyes and the face
Oh the great mystery and fascination of the unseen shaper, (Life)

Oh the power of the melting, fusing force

Heat, light, colour, everything great and mysterious in One swelling and

shaping the dreams in the flesh

Oh the terrible ecstasy of the consciousness {of, that} I am life

Oh the unconscious rapture that moves unthought (ileg.l) with Life

Oh the miracle of the whole, the widespread labouring concentration of life

Swelling mankind like one bud to bring forth the fruit of a dream*

That makes the whole of mankind at once one bud to bring forth the fruit of a dream,

Oh the terror of lifting the innermost I out of the sweep of the impulse of Life

And watching the Great thing labouring through the whole round flesh of the world

And striving to catch a glimpse of the shape of the coming dream

And the scent and colour of the coming dream

Then to fall back exhausted into the molten unconscious life

Versión B. “A Still Afternoon in School”.

Dreams Old and (Unborn) Nascent.


In a wishful dream of l.orna Doone."Lawrence wrote this line above the original ones, apparently uncertain which to use.



I have opened the window to warm my hands on the sill

Whrere the sunshine soaks in the stone. The afternoon

is full of dreams, my Love: the boys are (reading,} all still

In a wishful dream of Lorna Doone.
The clink of the shunting engines is sharp and fine

Like savage music striking far off,

And far-off, on the great, uplifted blue Palace light-pools shine

And stir, where (among the) the blue grass is domèd soft
(There lies the world, my darling, full of wonder and wistfulness, and strange

Recognitions and greetings of half-acquaint things.

The cloud of blue Palace aloft there is one of {my, the} dreams which range

Beyond

(Along) the horizon of my experience—my mother sings )
There lies the world, my darling, full of wonder and wistfulness and strange

Recognitions and greetings of half-acquaint things as I greet the cloud

Of blue Palace aloft there, among the misty indefinite dreams that range

At the back of the horizon of my experience, where dreams from the past life crowd:
Nearer to me is Norwood Hill, but the sunrays that beam

And the {y, re} crowds nearer over Norwood Hill, (a cherished dream)

Warmly upon it are the rays of the bygone years of Dora

(Of the child wife Dora)

And Gypp; and a little laughter of old love, and a few tears gleam

among memories is a loving

Over Norwood Hill; my soul (is a backward) explorer.

hushèd

All the bye gone, (dream-tossed) years

Streaming

(That stream) back where the mist (of oblivion) distils

Into forgetfulness: soft-sailing waters, where fears*

Have left me the savour of their laughter and tears;

No longer shake: where the silk sail fills*

And the sweet live dream of the old-time fills

With the unfelt breeze that ebbs over the seas when the storm*

With colour, the sketch of my own world's form.

Of living has passed, drifting on and on*

(And) {m, M}y world is a painted fresco of the past

Through the coloured iridescence that swims in the warm*

Where the old lives linger blurred and warm

Wave of the tumult spent and gone.*

the

Hiding the substance of this year with the shadow of last.

(Observing my own grey world's substance to the last.)
My world is a painted fresco, where coloured shapes

of old, ineffectual lives linger blurred and warm

a woven endless tapestry the past life drapes

Over the living whose pictures are gathering form.*
The surface of dreams is broken.

The picture of the past is shaken and scattered.

Fluent, active figures of men pass along the railway and I am woken

From the dreams that distance flattered.
Fluent, active figures of men pass along the railway.

They have a secret that flows in their limbs as they move

Nearer

(Nearer) {o, O} ut of the distance — here in the subtle, rounded flesh

Lives the active ecstasy, and in the sudden lifting of the eyes it is clearer:

The fascination of the quick, rest-less {c, C} reator moving through the mesh *

Of men, vibrating in ecstasy through the rounded flesh.
Oh my boys bending over your books

In you is trembling and fusing the creation

Of a new-patterned dream, dream of a generation
Old dreams are beloved, beautiful, fixed and sure

But the dream stuff is molten and moving mysteriously

Fascinating me—And me, am I not also pure

Molten dream-stuff, diffusing myself in the pattern, flowing into place seriously?
Herein shall I find an answer for my life-heavy yearning:

Dreams

Eyes where I can watch the (reflection) swim of old (years)) reflected on the molten

metal of dreams.

Watch

(Flesh where) the stir,(which) is rhythmic, (moving them all) (stirring) and like a heart beat

moves the blood / shoves them all;

Through the swelling flesh, the great Activity working,

Impelling, shaping, visible there in the change of the eyes and the features.
Oh the great mystery and fascination of the unseen shaper

The power of the melting, fusing force—Heat, Light everything in One

Everything great and mysterious in One, swelling and shaping the dreams in the flesh

As it swells and shapes into blossom a bud
Oh the terrible ecstasy that acknowledges that I am life

Oh the unconscious rapture, that moves unthoughtful with life.

Here is the miracle: the whole, wide-spread, labouring concentration of life

Swelling the gigantic flesh of the world

Into one bud, rounded and swelling with the fruit of a dream.
Oh the terror of lifting the innermost "I" out of the sweep of the impulse ofLife

Watching the Great Thing labouring through the whole round flesh of the world

Striving to catch a glimpse of the shape of the coming dream

And the scent and the colour of the coming dream

Then to fall back—exhausted into the molten unconscious life

2. Versiones de los Manuscritos 5 (según Ferrier) de la colección privada de L.D. Clarke y 9 (Roberts E34, E95a y E104) de la Biblioteca de la Universidad de Tejas (Versiones aparecidas en The English Review).

“A Still Afternoon / Dreams Old and Nascent”

I Old

( El MS 9 carece de título; se han perdido las diez primeras lineas del poema en esta versión )

I (MS 5: 1)

I have opened the window to warm my hands on the sill

Where the sunlight soaks in the stone: the afternoon

Is full of dreams, my love; the boys are all still

In a wishful dream of Lorna Doone.
The clink of the shunting engines is sharp and fine

Like savage music striking far off; and away

On the uplifted blue Palace, light pools stir and shine

Where the glass is domed up the blue, soft day. (MS 5: blue soft)
II (MS 5: 2)

There lies the world, my Darling, full of wonder, and wistfulness, and strange

(MS 5: wonder and)

Recognitions and greetings of half-acquaint things, as I greet the cloud

Of blue Palace aloft there, among the misty indefinite dreams that range (el MS 9 comienza

con esta linea)



At the back of my life's horizon, where the dreams from the past lives crowd.

(MSS 5 y 9: crowd:)

Over the nearness of Norwood Hill, through the mellow veil (MS 5: Hill through)

Of the afternoon, glows only the old romance of David and Dora,

With the old, sweet, soothing tears, and laughter that shakes the sail

Of the ship of the soul over seas where dreamed dreams lure the unoceaned explorer.

Ill

Over the bygone, hushèd years (MS5: bye-gone hushèd; MS 9: by-gone, hushèd)

Streaming back where the mist distils

Into forgetfulness: soft sailing waters, where fears (MS 5: soft-sailing)

No longer shake: where the silk sail fills

With the unfelt breeze that ebbs over the seas, when the storm

Of living has passed, on and on

Through the coloured iridescence that swims in the warm

Wake of the hushed tumult now spent and gone

Drifts my boat, wistfully lapsing after

The mists of receding tears, and the echo of laughter. (MS 5: {f, t} ears)
IV(MSS 5 y 9: 3)

My world is a painted fresco, where coloured shapes

Of old ineffectual lives linger blurred and warm:

An endless tapestry the past has woven, drapes (MSS 5 y 9: —An; MS 5:

woven drapes)

The halls of my life, and compels my soul to conform.

II. Nascent



V (MSS 5 y 9: 4)

Through the wakened afternoon, riding down my dreams

Fluent active figures of men pass along the railway.

There is something stirs in me from the flow of their limbs as they move (MS

5: Something; MS 9: There is {s, S} omething)

Out of the distance, nearer. (MS 5: {o, O} ut)

Here in the subtle, rounded flesh

Beats the active ecstasy, suddenly lifting my eyes

Into quick response.

The fascination of the restless Creator, through the mesh of men

Moving, vibrating endlessly in the rounded flesh

Challenges me, and is answered.
VI (MSS 5 y 9: 5)
Oh my boys, bending over your books


In you is trembling and fusing

The creation of a new-patterned dream, dream of a generation.
VII (MSS 5 y 9: 6)

The old dreams are beloved, beautiful, soft-toned, and sure (MS 5: soft

toned)

But the dream-stuff is molten and moving mysteriously. (MS 5: dream stuff)

This is no wistful allure

For am I not also dream-stuff, diffusing myself in the pattern (MS 9: al {l,so})

Flowing I know not how, yet seriously

Going into my place.

VIII (MS9:6-)

Here have I found an answer for my hollow yearning:

Eyes where I can watch the swim of old dreams reflected on the molten metal of dreams

Watch the stir whose rhythm is secret, whose secret is sure and safe (MS 9: (safe)

sure and (sur, safe)
The great activity swelling, through the round flesh pulsing (MS5: swelling through)


Impelling, shaping the coming dream;

Visible under the changing eyes, Under the mobile features.
IX (MS 9:7-8)

The flush of the great mystery, (MSS 5 y 9: mystery)

The radiance of the Unseen Shaper,

Is in me a trembling gladness,

As the subtle heat

Quickens the hastening, white-hot metal,

The power of the melting, fusing force, (MS 5: force)

The great, mysterious One, is swelling and shaping the dreams in the flesh,

(MSS 5 y 9: flesh)

Is swelling and shaping a bud into blossom, (MS 5: blossom.)

The whole teeming flesh of mankind.

The gigantic flesh of the world*

Is swelling with widespread, labouring concentration* (MSS 5 y 9:wide-spread)

Into one bud on the stalk of eternity,

Rounded and swelling towards the fruit of a dream.


3.Versiones del Manuscrito19 (según Ferrier)

de la Biblioteca Pública de la ciudad de Nueva York. .

“Still Afternnon in School”

1 The Old Dream



1

I have opened the window to warm my hands on the sill

Where the sunlight soaks in the stone: the afternoon

Is full of dreams; my love; the boys are all still

In a wistful dream of "Lorna Doone."
The clink of the shunting engines is sharp and fine

Like savage music striking far off; and awy

On the blue

(Uplifted on) uplifted Palace, lights stir and shine

In the glass domed up fthej among the blue, soft day.

2

There lies the world, my darling, full of wonder and wistfulness and strange
Recognitions and greetings of half-acquaint things, as I greel the cloud
Of blue Palace aloft there, among the misty, indefinite things that range
At the back of my life's horizon, among the dead lives´vast dream-crowd

Over the nearness of norwood Hill, through ther mellow veil

Of the afternoon, glows only romance of David and Dora,.

With the old, sweet, soothing tears and laughter that shakes the sail

Of the ship of the soul over seas where deamed dreams lure the unoceaned explorer
Over the by-gone, hushed years

Reaching back where the mist distils

In forgetfulness: soft-sailing waters where fears

No longer (sail) shake; where the silk sail fills

With (ileg.) the drift of a dream that goes ebbing over

The seas where the storm of living has passed;

On

On and on, (with) still wings the rove

Floats through the iridescence that last

Year's ship leaves swimming in her wake;

in the war

Through the iridescence that (sp) swims (in the wake)

Wake of the tumult now spent and gone

Drifts my boat but half awake;

on

Safe, (so) the deep of a dream, from storm

Of living and loving every one,

My boat drifts, wistfully lapsing after

The mists of vanishing tears, and the echo of laughter.
My world is a painted fresco, where coloured shapes

lives

Of old ineffectual (shapes} linger blurred and warm,

The endless tapestry of past years drapes

My halls and bids my soul conform.

2. Nascent


Through the wakened afternoon, riding down my dreams

Fluent active figures of men pass along the railway.

There is something stirs in me from the flow of their limbs as they move

Out of the distance nearer.

Here in the subtle,rounded flesh

Beats the active ecstasy, suddenly

Lifting my eyes into quick response.

The fascination of the restless Creator, through the mesh of men

Moving, vibrating endlessly in the moulded flesh

Challenges me and is answered.

Ah, in you, my boss bending over your books

Sudden I see in you is trembling

new pattern

The (recreation)of a dream, the dream of a generation

3.
(soft-toned)

The old dreams are beloved, beautifu,(fixed) and sure:

But the dream stuff is molten and moving mysteriously.

This is no wistful allure,

For am I not also dream-stuff, diffusing myself in the pattern

Flowing I know not how, yet seriously

Going into my place!

Here have I found an answer for hollow yearning

Eyes where I can watch the swim of old dreams reflected {On, on} the molten metal of dreams Watch the stir whose rhythm is secret, whose secret is sure and safe

The great activity swelling, through the round flesh pulsing

Impelling, shaping the coming dream,

Visible under the changing eyes

Under the mobile features.

The flush of the mystery,

The radiance of the Shaper,

Is in me a trembling gladness





(As the subtle heat

Quickens!

Quickens the hastening, white-hot metal )
Oh the terrible ecstasy that acknowledges I am life,

(Oh) t. T) he unconscious rapture, that moves unthoughtful with life.

Here is the miracle: the whole, wide-spread, labouring concentration of life

Swelling the gigantic flesh of the world

Into one bud, rounded and swelling with the fruit of a dream,

Everything great and mysterious in one, swelling and shaping the dreams in the flesh,

As it swells and shapes into blossom a bud,

Into one bud on the stalk of eternity.
And ah! the terror of lifting the innermost "I" out of the sweep of the impulse of life,

Watching the great thing labouring through the whole round flesh of the world,

a

Striving to catch (the) glimpse of the shape of the coming dream,

And the scent and the colour of the (dream} coming dream,exhausted

exhausted

Then to fall back (unconscious) into the molten unconscious life
Catálogo: fez -> eserv
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eserv -> Antropología Social y Cultural Conocimiento Etnográfico: Antropología Política Guiones de trabajo Ejercicios de autoevaluación Montserrat Cañedo
eserv -> Tesis doctoral las ciencias sociales en el currículo escolar: colombia 1930-1960 alejandro alvarez gallego magíster en Estudios Políticos departamento de historia
eserv -> Introducción planteamientos y metodología de la investigación
eserv -> Escuela de doctorado de la uned programa de doctorado en derecho y ciencias sociales tesis doctoral


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