POST CARD FROM LONDON AND ROME
A Keatsian trail
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A pilgrimage to places where verse is still valued.
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A discrete serenity prevails across the garden and the white coloured house that opened as Keats's Museum in 1925.
Photo: Sadhana Rao
Haunt of writers: The Spanish Steps in Rome.
IN a quiet house in Hampstead, an earnest bespectacled young man recited verses from the poem "Ode to Autumn" composed by John Keats. It wasn't quite autumn yet. The difference in season did not affect the sincerity of the elocution or the interest of the group listening. We were seated in the audience in Keats House, partaking in a poetry appreciation session on the "odes" by John Keats. The session was an assuring testimony that the expressive, poignant poetry of the poet (to whom the time keeper was not generous) still lives and retains its magnetic tug on one's psyche. The fact only got heightened as we embarked on a Keatsian trail. Touching some paths where history, philosophy and destiny of one of the finest poets of the Romantic Age coalesced.
In the Keatsian trail, two focal points emerge that are enduringly committed to the poet's afterlife and his works. The first, the home in Hampstead where Keats lived during the last few years in England. Where his mind and imagination fought his failing health and he went on to create his masterpieces. Second, the dwelling in Rome, where he sailed to escape the harsh cold winds of England. It was in Rome that John Keats gave up, finally, on his health.
Keats House
A discrete serenity prevails across the garden and the white coloured house that opened as Keats's Museum in 1925, and is maintained by the London Metropolitan Archives. Originally built as two semi-detached houses (known as Wentworth Place), at some point of its existence, the owner converted it into a single dwelling .The house retains its cultural fidelity with its ancestor. Random anecdotal details abound, that precious little has changed from the time of Keats. The neighbourhood of Hampstead and its associated understated urbanity harmonises with the look the house of Keats wants to project.
The interiors of the home are dappled in patchwork of shadows and light from the mercurial sun streaming in through the windows. The arrangement and style of the living room seem as if a thousand handprints of Keats are still intact. And Keats himself could be sitting by the window tossing the immense possibilities of poetry in his mind. The bust of Keats, the bookcase, the fireplace, the "Girometti Medallion" mounted on the wall and other curios of Keats' life do have a mark of age. Particularly the print of Shakespeare (apparently a favourite of the poet) and the handwritten goodbye note with its fading ink addressed to Fanny Brawne, his neighbour whom he loved. In a way, the Keats House has a feel of an idealistically simple place. It lacks the extravagant packaging and allure that Stratford upon Avon (the birthplace of Shakespeare) enjoys.
Assiduously, it is the simple spirit of Keats that is kept alive in the museum; to showcase to the world the intertwining of place and verse. Visitors are guided to the plum tree (that has been replanted) beneath which "An Ode to the Nightingale" was composed. The Heath at the back of the home, with its inviting greenery and walkway, served as an inspiration for "Ode to Autumn". The chair by the window in the living room was the muse point for "Ode to Melancholy": The window was probably the ailing poet's private belvedere to watch the world go by.
It is, however, in the activities of the museum that the poet's spirit truly comes alive. The charter of activities clearly state, that "we are a poetry appreciation group". People are encouraged to bring along poems (even of other poets) that they would like to read and share.
In Rome
At number 26, Piazza di Spagna, at the base of the Spanish Steps, in a little red house also known as Casina Rossa, Keats spent the last months of his life. The house in Rome was acquired by the Keats and Shelley Association in 1907 and has been converted into a museum dedicated to the poets of the Romantic Age. Keats settled down in the rooms of the second floor along with his companion Joseph Severn. From here, Keats enjoyed the view of the Spanish Steps; one of the liveliest squares in Rome, a haunt of writers, artists and travellers.
The Keats and Shelley Museum has a serious scholarly appearance and functions as a research library. It is crammed with wooden shelves of rare manuscripts and works of Byron, Shelley and Keats. The walls have art works and sketches of the poets and events that touched their lives. Our exploration of the museum abruptly ended with the appearance of Ms. Nina. A teacher of poetry at a university. What a treat it was to have a passionate Italian deliver an unexpected soliloquy on an English poet, whom she preferred to call John. She linked his work to the shifting tunes of his family, fortune and health and travels. She implored us to see his grave. With drama she chanted the last words of Keats, written on his tombstone "here lies one whose name was writ on water!" Ms. Nina is probably the best ambassador for the Keats and Shelley Association.
The Keatsian trail had a series of unexpected surprises for us. In the most crowded of human settlements in the world (London and Rome) we got to see museums where the value of verse was not lost. The mood and moment in these small unpretentious dwellings was truly something to celebrate about. Maybe it is the magic of Keats.
SADHANA RAO
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