BOOK 12, Part 2: The Sirens
Video
Odyssey from Sara Velez on Vimeo.
"Uma abordagem contemporânea da Odisseia de Homero: A Sereia aguarda pela chegada de Ulisses na tentativa de o encantar e matar, como faz com todos os marinheiros."
Montagem, realização e pós-produção: Sara Velez
Modelo e actriz: Daniela Gonçalves
"A contemporary approach of The Odyssey´s by Homer: The Siren is waiting for Ulysses and attempts to seduce and kill him, as she does with all of the sailors."
Directed by:Sara Velez
Model: Daniela Gonçaves
Montagem, realização e pós-produção: Sara Velez
Modelo e actriz: Daniela Gonçalves
"A contemporary approach of The Odyssey´s by Homer: The Siren is waiting for Ulysses and attempts to seduce and kill him, as she does with all of the sailors."
Directed by:Sara Velez
Model: Daniela Gonçaves
Read/Listen
My Last Duchess Related Poem Content Details
BY ROBERT BROWNING
FERRARA
That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now; Fra Pandolf’s hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will’t please you sit and look at her? I said
“Fra Pandolf” by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so, not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, ’twas not
Her husband’s presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess’ cheek; perhaps
Fra Pandolf chanced to say, “Her mantle laps
Over my lady’s wrist too much,” or “Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the faint
Half-flush that dies along her throat.” Such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot of joy. She had
A heart—how shall I say?— too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked whate’er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, ’twas all one! My favour at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace—all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men—good! but thanked
Somehow—I know not how—as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody’s gift. Who’d stoop to blame
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech—which I have not—to make your will
Quite clear to such an one, and say, “Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,
Or there exceed the mark”—and if she let
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse—
E’en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh, sir, she smiled, no doubt,
Whene’er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As if alive. Will’t please you rise? We’ll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master’s known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretense
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though his fair daughter’s self, as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay, we’ll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!
Go to site to read in its entirety.
BY ROBERT BROWNING
FERRARA
That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now; Fra Pandolf’s hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will’t please you sit and look at her? I said
“Fra Pandolf” by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so, not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, ’twas not
Her husband’s presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess’ cheek; perhaps
Fra Pandolf chanced to say, “Her mantle laps
Over my lady’s wrist too much,” or “Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the faint
Half-flush that dies along her throat.” Such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot of joy. She had
A heart—how shall I say?— too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked whate’er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, ’twas all one! My favour at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace—all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men—good! but thanked
Somehow—I know not how—as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody’s gift. Who’d stoop to blame
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech—which I have not—to make your will
Quite clear to such an one, and say, “Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,
Or there exceed the mark”—and if she let
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse—
E’en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh, sir, she smiled, no doubt,
Whene’er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As if alive. Will’t please you rise? We’ll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master’s known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretense
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though his fair daughter’s self, as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay, we’ll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!
Go to site to read in its entirety.
Read
Applying Modern Critical Theory to Robert Browning's "My Last Duchess"
In the following readings of Browning's justly famous poem, Professor Allingham shows the different kinds of answers different critical approaches can produce. (Brief explanations of each critical method link to each of the terms below.) You will notice that although these various critical theories ask diffrent questioons and produce different answers, these readings complement — rather than contradict — one another. In other words, in the same way that a cell biologist can ask questions about the physics, biochemistry, genetics, and physiology of a cell and receive differing results, so, too, can a student of literary approach a text in different ways without making the study of literature subjective and a matter largely of personal taste and opinion. [GPL]
1. The poem "My Last Duchess" (complete text) is termed a "dramatic monologue" because
2. The "voice" or "persona" in the poem "My Last Duchess"...
Go to site to read in its entirety.
In the following readings of Browning's justly famous poem, Professor Allingham shows the different kinds of answers different critical approaches can produce. (Brief explanations of each critical method link to each of the terms below.) You will notice that although these various critical theories ask diffrent questioons and produce different answers, these readings complement — rather than contradict — one another. In other words, in the same way that a cell biologist can ask questions about the physics, biochemistry, genetics, and physiology of a cell and receive differing results, so, too, can a student of literary approach a text in different ways without making the study of literature subjective and a matter largely of personal taste and opinion. [GPL]
1. The poem "My Last Duchess" (complete text) is termed a "dramatic monologue" because
- A. it contains three formal elements: an occasion, a speaker, and a hearer. [Formalist]
- B. all its words are heard--and are intended to be heard--by an implied auditor. [Formalist]
- C. in it we hear only one voice--and as is typical of pre-twentieth-century verse that voice is male. [Feminist]
- D. rather than being "narrative," by virtue of its scansion and diction it appears to have been excerpted from the body of a verse drama such as a play by Shakespeare.[Rhetorical]
2. The "voice" or "persona" in the poem "My Last Duchess"...
Go to site to read in its entirety.