More On Shelley. Art Thou Surprised?
I am back again with the second part of my picspam.
Disclaimer: Once again, these pictures belong to their respective owners. I just like using them to fancy myself some Romantic Action. Historical accuracy? Pfff. Totally over-rated!
Link to Part I: shaggingshelley.livejournal.com/9694.html#cutid1
Now where did I left off...?
Oh yes. Harriet Westbrook. As I said before, Harriet and Percy married back in 1811 after having dramatically eloped together to Scotland in a haze of romance and glitter. A lot of hand-holding ensued, I presume. Still, according to Shelley himself, "it was a rash & heartless union". Apparently, the glitter did not last them long.
Despite the bad propaganda this union still receives by many of Shelley's critics, they did have some fun. Shelley taught Harriet Latin. She, in turn, sewed his socks and worried that he ate his vegetables. Together they traversed Ireland, crying for it's freedom. Together, they were swiftly kicked out. He wrote poetry for her, felt inspired by her to write his Queen Mab. She, for her part, baked him cakes and giggled at his impassioned declamations against injustice. They even made a baby together. Yes, they had some happy times. But Shelley thought marriage was "a most unrequited fetter" and so he left Harriet for a gal named Mary...
Enter Mary Godwin, 16, daughter of radical philosopher William Godwin and authoress Mary Wollstonecraft. Shelley used to go to her house for tea and crumpets and... oh, yes, talks of World Justice with Papa Godwin who, to his credit, found the lad to be Very Pretty Indeed, if a bit bonkers. Everything seemed fine and dandy, until Shelley let his eyes stray to Mary. Zass! Like a bolt of lightening, instant hormones love bloomed. But Percy was already married, oh noes!
There was much longing and puppy looks across the table linen.
Percy, not to be separated from his second one true love, and knowing full well that marriage was bollocks anyway, took Mary's hand and wheee! off they went to the continent. Just to be sure that people would not misinterpret his obviously friendly intentions towards young Mary, he took with them in their obviously-not-elopment-number-two, Mary's step-sister, Claire Clairmont... but not his wife and baby daughter (o.O) Seriously. Teenagers!
This is a picture of Claire Clairmont in all her curly-haired glory:
This whole business of leaving secretly together with his two young daughters? Well. Let's say Papa Godwin did not take it well. He wrote Shelley a most stern letter. None of the three members of the tripping party paid it any damn heed.
Fast-forward to May, 1816. Having cut all his ties to Harriet, formalized his relationship with Mary, and had little woobly-wibbly William, the Shelley household decides to set out for Switzerland, to hang out at the Lake of Geneva. Why? Well, because they all caught wind that a certain Lord B. was spending his summer there and mysterious, shy Miss Clairmont... well, let's just say she wasn't so timid after all (writer shouts: "Who was boinking the Byron?!" Crowd cheers: "She was!")
What is this that I hear? You know not who this Lord Byron is?! Oh my, let me rectify that serious breach!
This, kids, is the infamous Lord George Gordon Byron, awesomest poet in town and the handsomest devil of all the English land and beyond. Notice the haughty profile, the naughty curl of his lips. He's thinking dirty business, you assume, and that is so indeed!
If Hogg had been Percy's first man-crush! male friend, then Byron was to be his bestest. They would write poetry together, have breakfast and dinner together, and discourse on all and sunder. They would escape together to different parts of the country in the middle of the night to do things only hot great poets knew about, things like read poetry aloud to each other, scuffle, get drunk and talk sublimity. Maybe they were only having sex --I mean, a good time, having a good time!
Apart from meeting Byron at the Lake of Geneva, they also encountered Byron's entourage at the time, which consisted solely of one young man, his physician and also pseudo-writer, John William Polidori --or "Polly-dolly" as Lord B so charmingly called him.
Here he is, as if with a pickle up his arse:
Now let me just say that Polidori did not like Shelley. He did not find Shelley's easy manner, quirky looks and frilly shirt utterly captivating, as did the rest of human-kind, God only knows why. In the words of the doctor himself, "Shelley, the author of Queen Mab, has arrived; blushing, shy, cunsumptive; 26. A most despicable fellow."
Well, I would say he's got a case of the 'I-hate-you-I-love-you' going on right there.
And I stop here for today, as my fingers are freezing.
Part III, ladies and gent. Be ready for it *wink*
Disclaimer: Once again, these pictures belong to their respective owners. I just like using them to fancy myself some Romantic Action. Historical accuracy? Pfff. Totally over-rated!
Link to Part I: shaggingshelley.livejournal.com/9694.html#cutid1
Now where did I left off...?
Oh yes. Harriet Westbrook. As I said before, Harriet and Percy married back in 1811 after having dramatically eloped together to Scotland in a haze of romance and glitter. A lot of hand-holding ensued, I presume. Still, according to Shelley himself, "it was a rash & heartless union". Apparently, the glitter did not last them long.
Despite the bad propaganda this union still receives by many of Shelley's critics, they did have some fun. Shelley taught Harriet Latin. She, in turn, sewed his socks and worried that he ate his vegetables. Together they traversed Ireland, crying for it's freedom. Together, they were swiftly kicked out. He wrote poetry for her, felt inspired by her to write his Queen Mab. She, for her part, baked him cakes and giggled at his impassioned declamations against injustice. They even made a baby together. Yes, they had some happy times. But Shelley thought marriage was "a most unrequited fetter" and so he left Harriet for a gal named Mary...
Enter Mary Godwin, 16, daughter of radical philosopher William Godwin and authoress Mary Wollstonecraft. Shelley used to go to her house for tea and crumpets and... oh, yes, talks of World Justice with Papa Godwin who, to his credit, found the lad to be Very Pretty Indeed, if a bit bonkers. Everything seemed fine and dandy, until Shelley let his eyes stray to Mary. Zass! Like a bolt of lightening, instant hormones love bloomed. But Percy was already married, oh noes!
There was much longing and puppy looks across the table linen.
Percy, not to be separated from his second one true love, and knowing full well that marriage was bollocks anyway, took Mary's hand and wheee! off they went to the continent. Just to be sure that people would not misinterpret his obviously friendly intentions towards young Mary, he took with them in their obviously-not-elopment-number-two, Mary's step-sister, Claire Clairmont... but not his wife and baby daughter (o.O) Seriously. Teenagers!
This is a picture of Claire Clairmont in all her curly-haired glory:
This whole business of leaving secretly together with his two young daughters? Well. Let's say Papa Godwin did not take it well. He wrote Shelley a most stern letter. None of the three members of the tripping party paid it any damn heed.
Fast-forward to May, 1816. Having cut all his ties to Harriet, formalized his relationship with Mary, and had little woobly-wibbly William, the Shelley household decides to set out for Switzerland, to hang out at the Lake of Geneva. Why? Well, because they all caught wind that a certain Lord B. was spending his summer there and mysterious, shy Miss Clairmont... well, let's just say she wasn't so timid after all (writer shouts: "Who was boinking the Byron?!" Crowd cheers: "She was!")
What is this that I hear? You know not who this Lord Byron is?! Oh my, let me rectify that serious breach!
This, kids, is the infamous Lord George Gordon Byron, awesomest poet in town and the handsomest devil of all the English land and beyond. Notice the haughty profile, the naughty curl of his lips. He's thinking dirty business, you assume, and that is so indeed!
If Hogg had been Percy's first man-crush! male friend, then Byron was to be his bestest. They would write poetry together, have breakfast and dinner together, and discourse on all and sunder. They would escape together to different parts of the country in the middle of the night to do things only hot great poets knew about, things like read poetry aloud to each other, scuffle, get drunk and talk sublimity. Maybe they were only having sex --I mean, a good time, having a good time!
Apart from meeting Byron at the Lake of Geneva, they also encountered Byron's entourage at the time, which consisted solely of one young man, his physician and also pseudo-writer, John William Polidori --or "Polly-dolly" as Lord B so charmingly called him.
Here he is, as if with a pickle up his arse:
Now let me just say that Polidori did not like Shelley. He did not find Shelley's easy manner, quirky looks and frilly shirt utterly captivating, as did the rest of human-kind, God only knows why. In the words of the doctor himself, "Shelley, the author of Queen Mab, has arrived; blushing, shy, cunsumptive; 26. A most despicable fellow."
Well, I would say he's got a case of the 'I-hate-you-I-love-you' going on right there.
And I stop here for today, as my fingers are freezing.
Part III, ladies and gent. Be ready for it *wink*