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Updated: June 4, 2025
Here, too, he had relatives eccentric and adventurous to excite his imagination, such as the Merchant skipper that leaped overboard After a ragged hat in Biscay Bay. Mr. Yeats's relations seem in his autobiography as real as the characters in fiction. Each of them is magnificently stamped with romance or comedy the hypochondriac uncle, for example, who
Yeats's upbringing in the home of an artist anti-Victorian to the finger-tips was obviously such as would lead a boy to live self-consciously, and Mr. Yeats tells us that when he was a boy at school he used to feel "as proud of myself as a March cock when it crows to its first sunrise."
Yeats's verse and his incomparable music. It is the custom when praising a Russian writer to do so at the expense of all other Russian writers. It is as though most of us were monotheists in our devotion to authors, and could not endure to see any respect paid to the rivals of the god of the moment. And so one year Tolstoy is laid prone as Dagon, and, another year, Turgenev.
Those were the nights when the Countess Cathleen loveliest of Yeats's Irish ladies found Paradise and the Heavenly Host awaiting her on a Wellesley hilltop when she had sold her soul to feed her starving peasants. But the glamour of the sun is as potent as the glamour of the moon at Wellesley.
Be that as it may, in 1899 Yeats's dream was measurably realized, and the Irish Literary Theatre established, to be succeeded a little later by the Irish National Theatre Society. Enough, however, of the dramatic aspect of the Revival, which receives separate treatment elsewhere in these pages, as does also the dramatic work of certain of the authors considered here.
Yeats's early poems show that he was a boy of eager curiosity and observation a boy with a remarkable intellectual machine, as well as a visionary who was one day to build a new altar to beauty. He has never been entirely aloof from the common world.
One day he announced that he was leaving the Art Schools because his will was weak, and the arts or any other emotional pursuit would but weaken it further. Mr. Yeats's memoirs, however, are not confined to prose. His volume of verse called Responsibilities is almost equally autobiographical.
Yeats's school suggests that in that world every one is a capricious god. Mr. "Where nobody grows old or weary or wise, Where nobody grows old or godly or grave." Yeats really knows the real philosophy of the fairies. He is not simple enough; he is not stupid enough. Though I say it who should not, in good sound human stupidity I would knock Mr. Yeats out any day.
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