Thomas Watson - [Hekatompathia or Passionate Centurie of Love].
Thomas Watson (1555-92) was an English poet and translator, and the pioneer of the English madrigal. He published his Hekatompathia in 1882 which consisted of one hundred sonnets. In his introduction to the “friendly reader” he says:

“I hope that thou wilt in respect of my travail in penning these love-passions, or for pity of my pains in suffering them (although but supposed) so survey the faults herein escaped, as either to wink at them, as oversights of a blind Lover; or to excuse them, as idle toys proceeding from a youngling frenzy…….Therefore, if I rough-hewed my verse, where my sense was unsettled, whether through the nature of the passion, which I felt, or by rule of art, which I had learned, it may seem a happy fault; or if it were so framed by counsel, thou mayest think it well done; if by chance, happily.”

Unfortunately if he thought he was publishing passionate love poems he was very much wide of the mark. Most of these poems are mechanical, with little trace of passion. He follows Petrarch’s template of writing about an unrequited love, without bringing anything new to the genre. Any innovations he makes are technical. This is courtly love poetry without a hint of soul. The best that can be said of them is that they are technically proficient as Watson finds one hundred different ways of writing the same poem.

Love is a sour delight; a sug'red grief;

A living death; an ever-dying life;

A breach of Reason's law; a secret thief;

A sea of tears; an ever-lasting strife;

A bait for fools; a scourge of noble wits;

A Deadly wound; a shot which ever hits.

Love is a blinded God; an angry boy;

A Labyrinth of doubts; an idle lust;

A slave to Beauty's will; a witless toy;

A ravening bird, a tyrant most unjust;

A burning heat; a cold; a flatt'ring foe;

A private hell; a very world of woe.

Yet mighty Love regard not what I say,

Which lie in trance bereft of all my wits,

But blame the light that leads me thus astray,

And makes my tongue blaspheme by frantic fits:

Yet hurt her not, left I sustain the smart,

Which am content to lodge her in my heart.

This (sonnet no.18) is one of the better examples. It can be seen that the poet lengthened the usual fourteen line sonnet to eighteen lines, however because each set of six lines ends in a rhyming couplet it feels like just three sets of six lines with no integration into a whole stanza. It was an innovation that did not catch on. The poems are collected in two parts: the first eighty poems are complaints from the rejected lover, while the last twenty are the poets reflection on his folly and new found freedom now he has woken up to the fact that he has been wasting his time. Poem number 80 is the watershed and Watson has set this out in the form of a pillar or large jug: an early example of concrete poetry. He does not tell us why he has untangled himself from his love lorn existence, only saying that he has finally seen reason.

The poetry is heavily laced with examples from the classical world, but Watson usually fails to find anything different or innovative to say. Reading through these poems I got the feeling that Watson was more intent in showing off his wit and technical skills; they seem horribly cliched today, however they read quite well, without too many rough edges. Not recommended for poetry lovers, only for completists like me. 2.5 stars. ( )