The World of the Victorian Naturalist

On pondering Old Fogey's comments on Christina Rossetti's poem in my previous blog, it come to mind of my friend's (Slarky) art work. For her degree, where she "only got a Desmond" as she put it (2:2)- outragous if you ask me!!- she did this piece on the "Victorian Naturalist". It is amazing, and I am duly posting it here.

This is what she says about it:

"THE WORLD OF THE VICTORIAN NATURALIST.

Using the 150th anniversary of the publication of Darwin’s The Origin of Species as a starting point, I wanted to visually explore the idea of the Victorian Naturalist and the paraphernalia associated with it, to show to what extent Victorian naturalists were harming the environments and species which they sought to learn about with their obsessive collecting for both acedemic and decorative purposes."

Old Fogey says that the poem instructs us what to do, but that Christina may not have followed it herself, which is entirely possible. However, I said that her sentiment in the poem is completely at odds with her time. The Victorians, as Slarky says, were harming the environments around them for knowledge and decoration. Even if Rossetti didn't always avoid squatting the odd fly or squashing the odd spider, she voiced an opinion little held and even less liked.

Check out her website here: http://www.charlotteslark.co.uk/index.html

POEMS FOR CHILDREN

OK, so we probably know that I like Christina Rossetti's poems A LOT. Like a lot, not as much as Emily Dickinson, but a lot right?

I was in a charity shop last week and bought a 1969 copy of Christina Rossetti's poetry "for young readers" called Doves and Pomegranates. It is a really nice book. It is the sort of book that I would have loved as a child. At primary school we were always having a poetry day or something so I had this one book of poetry and I always HAD to pick something out of this book as it was the only one I had. It served me well, but by year 6 it was a little immature and I had used all the good ones! This book I am going to keep for my kids (if I have any) and they can use this book to death too.

HURT NO LIVING THING

Hurt no living thing:
Ladybird, nor butterfly,
Nor moth with dusty wing,
Nor cricket chirping cheerily,
Nor grasshopper so light of leap,
Nor dancing gnat, nor beetle fat,
Nor harmless worms that creep.

> This was particularly apt as I was lying in the bath reading this poem when I noticed a spider *eugh!* scuttle in through the slightly ajar window and I was wondering whether to kill it, capture it and throw it out the window to certain death or to just let it go but watch it wearily.

I watched it wearily for ten minutes before I couldn't take it any longer and got out the bath. And the water was still warm and the book unfinished. What a very rude spider that still lives.