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No man is an island – A selection from the prose
This meditative prose conveys the essence of the human place in the world – past and present.
'Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls: It tolls for thee'
Perhaps no one wrote better about the human condition – heart, body and soul – than John Donne (1572–1631). Known in his youth as a ‘great Visitor of Ladies, a great Frequenter of lays, a great writer of conceited Verses’, the dashing ‘Jack’ Donne became in later years the revered Dean of St Paul’s Cathedral.
Lovers of Donne will relish his prose, which is as witty and passionate as his poetry. This collection, compiled especially for The Folio Society by the literary editor Rivers Scott in 1997, begins with Donne’s early Paradoxes and Problems, described by their author as ‘swaggerers’. Here Donne enjoys himself addressing worldly considerations. He argues that women ‘ought to paint themselves’, that ‘a wise man is known by much laughing’ and even, playing devil’s advocate in his ‘Defence of Women’s Inconstancy’, that women should change their lovers along with their underwear.
Despite the ribald vein of some of his work, Donne was also much concerned with spirituality. His study of suicide, Biathanatos, is the first work in English on the subject; his Devotions, including a moving account of his near-fatal illness, attempt to reconcile the earthly with the divine; while his thundering sermons, as impressive on the page as they must have been from the pulpit, remind us that the great questions of life have not changed in four centuries.
This reissued edition contains a series of carefully chosen contemporary engravings. Among them are original frontispieces and title pages from several of his works, and scenes that illustrate his themes, including London landmarks such as St Paul’s Cathedral. These black-and-white images contrast beautifully with the book’s rich purple endpapers and slipcase.
'Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls: It tolls for thee'
Perhaps no one wrote better about the human condition – heart, body and soul – than John Donne (1572–1631). Known in his youth as a ‘great Visitor of Ladies, a great Frequenter of lays, a great writer of conceited Verses’, the dashing ‘Jack’ Donne became in later years the revered Dean of St Paul’s Cathedral.
Lovers of Donne will relish his prose, which is as witty and passionate as his poetry. This collection, compiled especially for The Folio Society by the literary editor Rivers Scott in 1997, begins with Donne’s early Paradoxes and Problems, described by their author as ‘swaggerers’. Here Donne enjoys himself addressing worldly considerations. He argues that women ‘ought to paint themselves’, that ‘a wise man is known by much laughing’ and even, playing devil’s advocate in his ‘Defence of Women’s Inconstancy’, that women should change their lovers along with their underwear.
Despite the ribald vein of some of his work, Donne was also much concerned with spirituality. His study of suicide, Biathanatos, is the first work in English on the subject; his Devotions, including a moving account of his near-fatal illness, attempt to reconcile the earthly with the divine; while his thundering sermons, as impressive on the page as they must have been from the pulpit, remind us that the great questions of life have not changed in four centuries.
This reissued edition contains a series of carefully chosen contemporary engravings. Among them are original frontispieces and title pages from several of his works, and scenes that illustrate his themes, including London landmarks such as St Paul’s Cathedral. These black-and-white images contrast beautifully with the book’s rich purple endpapers and slipcase.
256 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1624
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About the author
John Donne
861 books695 followersJohn Donne was an English poet, preacher and a major representative of the metaphysical poets of the period. His works are notable for their realistic and sensual style and include sonnets, love poetry, religious poems, Latin translations, epigrams, elegies, songs, satires and sermons. His poetry is noted for its vibrancy of language and inventiveness of metaphor, especially as compared to that of his contemporaries.
Despite his great education and poetic talents, he lived in poverty for several years, relying heavily on wealthy friends. In 1615 he became an Anglican priest and, in 1621, was appointed the Dean of St Paul's Cathedral in London.
Despite his great education and poetic talents, he lived in poverty for several years, relying heavily on wealthy friends. In 1615 he became an Anglican priest and, in 1621, was appointed the Dean of St Paul's Cathedral in London.
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Displaying 1 - 26 of 26 reviews
April 19, 2020
Many readers, including the author himself, have distinguished between "Jack" the poet and "John" the preacher. Yet the greatest of Donne's poetic virtues—namely, his ear for rhythm and sonority and his mastery of the extended metaphor or "conceit"—adorn his prose works as well.
No Man Is an Island provides a general sampling of those works. My favourites, among the pieces represented, were the morbidly bizarre Biathanatos (1608), which I'd already read in full, and the slightly less bizarre but no less morbid Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions, and severall steps in my Sicknes (1623), whence came such commonplaces as "no man is an island" and "for whom the bell tolls...". (I should note, however, that many of Donne's more famous phrases resonate quite differently when encountered in their original context.)
My main gripe with this collection, given my tastes and upbringing, is that the greater part of the book is devoted to Donne's sermons, which, although beautifully written (especially when read aloud), can grow a tad tedious for a non-religious reader such as myself. A fascinating and illuminating read nonetheless.
No Man Is an Island provides a general sampling of those works. My favourites, among the pieces represented, were the morbidly bizarre Biathanatos (1608), which I'd already read in full, and the slightly less bizarre but no less morbid Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions, and severall steps in my Sicknes (1623), whence came such commonplaces as "no man is an island" and "for whom the bell tolls...". (I should note, however, that many of Donne's more famous phrases resonate quite differently when encountered in their original context.)
My main gripe with this collection, given my tastes and upbringing, is that the greater part of the book is devoted to Donne's sermons, which, although beautifully written (especially when read aloud), can grow a tad tedious for a non-religious reader such as myself. A fascinating and illuminating read nonetheless.
January 26, 2015
"Nunc Lento Sonitu Dicunt, Morieris (Now this bell, tolling softly for another, says to me, Thou must die.)"
This meditation is most remembered now a days as the namesake for the Hemingway novel For Whom the Bell Tolls and Thomas Merton's book No Man Is an Island. But it is more deep and much more important than that.
This meditation mainly focuses on the universality of man and how death chips away at the whole but does not stop the whole from being universal. Or something like that.
But as much as it may seem to not be anything special it is obvious that this meditation is a very moving one, to suggest that we all, whether realize it or not, have a vested interest in each other.
Now the bell that figures throughout this prose is symbolizing, or really announcing, death. But as the narrator thinks on it he comes to feel that this bell does not simply announce one death but a dying in every one.
"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
I think, in the end, what Donne is trying to get across is that though death, whether it is his own or someone who he does not know, tries to put you into the void it is God who still keeps man unified. For an interesting, secular version of this I would read George Eliot's O May I Join the Choir Invisible!.
" Another man may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell, that tells me of his affliction, digs out and applies that gold to me: if by this consideration of another's danger I take mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security."
This meditation is most remembered now a days as the namesake for the Hemingway novel For Whom the Bell Tolls and Thomas Merton's book No Man Is an Island. But it is more deep and much more important than that.
This meditation mainly focuses on the universality of man and how death chips away at the whole but does not stop the whole from being universal. Or something like that.
But as much as it may seem to not be anything special it is obvious that this meditation is a very moving one, to suggest that we all, whether realize it or not, have a vested interest in each other.
Now the bell that figures throughout this prose is symbolizing, or really announcing, death. But as the narrator thinks on it he comes to feel that this bell does not simply announce one death but a dying in every one.
"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
I think, in the end, what Donne is trying to get across is that though death, whether it is his own or someone who he does not know, tries to put you into the void it is God who still keeps man unified. For an interesting, secular version of this I would read George Eliot's O May I Join the Choir Invisible!.
" Another man may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell, that tells me of his affliction, digs out and applies that gold to me: if by this consideration of another's danger I take mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security."
January 21, 2025
Existential crisis on the first day of the week we are so back
April 1, 2020
In tempo di crisi la poesia, con la sua lingua formalizzata, può trasformare il rito dell’esperienza quotidiana in emozioni, facendo in modo che chi la legge non si senta solo.
Non tutti, ovviamente, riescono ad avvicinarsi ad essa in maniera facile, convinti di ricevere un aiuto.
E’ pur vero che, in un tempo come quello che stiamo vivendo, aveva ragione Sigmund Freud quando scrisse che ovunque rivolgesse la sua ricerca sulla psiche umana, si rendeva conto che da quelle parti era già passato un poeta.
Chi naviga in rete in queste giornate di isolamento e solitudine, si rende conto che la pandemia scatenata a livello planetario da un nemico tanto invisibile quanto introvabile, lascia una traccia che il tempo difficilmente cancellerà.
Tocca in profondità la sensibilità della coscienza collettiva, al di là di ogni credo politico o religioso. Non possiamo ancora stabilire il numero di persone che in poco tempo ha lasciato, o lascerà, questo pianeta a causa sua, senza una ragione plausibile.
Nonostante la grande perdita, con queste considerazioni negative a livello globale, la pandemia ha messo in evidenza il fatto che nessun uomo è un’ “isola”. Tutti gli esseri umani sono destinati ad essere “connessi”.
Robinson Crusoe riuscì a stare da solo su quell’isola dopo il naufragio per un bel pò di tempo. Ma poi dovette necessariamente ritornare tra i suoi simili. Non possono esserci razze, generi, colori, fedi, teorie politiche o religioni a dividere gli esseri umani. Quella sua “isola” apparteneva al “Continente” degli umani, a un “Tutto” dal quale noi tutti proveniamo e siamo destinati a ritornare.
Il poeta e filosofo inglese John Donne, fin dal seicento, nella sua poesia metafisica aveva brillantemente intuito la necessità del “Tutto”, ovvero l’importanza di tenere uniti tutti gli uomini visti come “pezzi” costitutivi di un “Continente, di un “Tutto”, cioè dell’umanità.
“Nessun uomo è un’isola, intero per se stesso;
Ogni uomo è un pezzo del continente,
parte della Terra intera; e se una sola zolla vien portata via
dall’onda del mare, qualcosa all’Europa viene a mancare,
come se un promontorio fosse stato al suo posto,
o la casa di un uomo, di un amico o la tua stessa casa…”.
Anche il “web” è stato visto come un “insieme”, costituito da piccole entità, variamente collegate, minuscoli “pezzi” che sono i “link”, che poi diventano vere e proprie metafore esistenziali vaganti nello spazio tra “bits & bytes”, alla ricerca di una identità personale che cercano di identificarsi negli altri.
In realtà, nessuno di essi può esistere e sussistere senza la presenza-esistenza degli altri, siano essi “isole”, “collegamenti” o “esseri umani”. Nell’intuizione poetica secentesca di John Donne troviamo anticipata la teoria unificata del “tutto”, sia essa la “Terra”, il “Web” ed anche oltre, come vedremo qui di seguito.
A dire il vero, questo suo pensiero ha ben poco a che fare con la poesia. In effetti John Donne lo esprime in una delle sue “Meditazioni”, così come si può leggere in questa edizione della Folio Society che posseggo nella mia biblioteca inglese. La si può leggere a pag. 74 introdotta da questo titolo: “ From Meditation 17: Now, this bell tolling softly for another says to me, Thou must die”. (“Da Meditazione 17: Ora la campana suona lentamente per un altro e mi dice, Tu devi morire”)
Ma se nessun Uomo è un’Isola, bensì un pezzo di Continente, vuol dire che ogni Continente è pur parte della Terra intera fatta da altri Continenti. E se questa Terra non sta nell’Universo per se stessa ed è legata ad altri pianeti che formano l’Universo, essa si ritrova in un preciso continuum spazio-temporale con tutta la materia-energia in essa contenuta. Quello che abbiamo chiamato “Tutto” si giustifica allora in tutte le possibili configurazioni di un Universo che diventa Omniverso …
Arrivato a questo punto mi accorgo di essermi … perso nella mia “isola”.
Non tutti, ovviamente, riescono ad avvicinarsi ad essa in maniera facile, convinti di ricevere un aiuto.
E’ pur vero che, in un tempo come quello che stiamo vivendo, aveva ragione Sigmund Freud quando scrisse che ovunque rivolgesse la sua ricerca sulla psiche umana, si rendeva conto che da quelle parti era già passato un poeta.
Chi naviga in rete in queste giornate di isolamento e solitudine, si rende conto che la pandemia scatenata a livello planetario da un nemico tanto invisibile quanto introvabile, lascia una traccia che il tempo difficilmente cancellerà.
Tocca in profondità la sensibilità della coscienza collettiva, al di là di ogni credo politico o religioso. Non possiamo ancora stabilire il numero di persone che in poco tempo ha lasciato, o lascerà, questo pianeta a causa sua, senza una ragione plausibile.
Nonostante la grande perdita, con queste considerazioni negative a livello globale, la pandemia ha messo in evidenza il fatto che nessun uomo è un’ “isola”. Tutti gli esseri umani sono destinati ad essere “connessi”.
Robinson Crusoe riuscì a stare da solo su quell’isola dopo il naufragio per un bel pò di tempo. Ma poi dovette necessariamente ritornare tra i suoi simili. Non possono esserci razze, generi, colori, fedi, teorie politiche o religioni a dividere gli esseri umani. Quella sua “isola” apparteneva al “Continente” degli umani, a un “Tutto” dal quale noi tutti proveniamo e siamo destinati a ritornare.
Il poeta e filosofo inglese John Donne, fin dal seicento, nella sua poesia metafisica aveva brillantemente intuito la necessità del “Tutto”, ovvero l’importanza di tenere uniti tutti gli uomini visti come “pezzi” costitutivi di un “Continente, di un “Tutto”, cioè dell’umanità.
“Nessun uomo è un’isola, intero per se stesso;
Ogni uomo è un pezzo del continente,
parte della Terra intera; e se una sola zolla vien portata via
dall’onda del mare, qualcosa all’Europa viene a mancare,
come se un promontorio fosse stato al suo posto,
o la casa di un uomo, di un amico o la tua stessa casa…”.
Anche il “web” è stato visto come un “insieme”, costituito da piccole entità, variamente collegate, minuscoli “pezzi” che sono i “link”, che poi diventano vere e proprie metafore esistenziali vaganti nello spazio tra “bits & bytes”, alla ricerca di una identità personale che cercano di identificarsi negli altri.
In realtà, nessuno di essi può esistere e sussistere senza la presenza-esistenza degli altri, siano essi “isole”, “collegamenti” o “esseri umani”. Nell’intuizione poetica secentesca di John Donne troviamo anticipata la teoria unificata del “tutto”, sia essa la “Terra”, il “Web” ed anche oltre, come vedremo qui di seguito.
A dire il vero, questo suo pensiero ha ben poco a che fare con la poesia. In effetti John Donne lo esprime in una delle sue “Meditazioni”, così come si può leggere in questa edizione della Folio Society che posseggo nella mia biblioteca inglese. La si può leggere a pag. 74 introdotta da questo titolo: “ From Meditation 17: Now, this bell tolling softly for another says to me, Thou must die”. (“Da Meditazione 17: Ora la campana suona lentamente per un altro e mi dice, Tu devi morire”)
Ma se nessun Uomo è un’Isola, bensì un pezzo di Continente, vuol dire che ogni Continente è pur parte della Terra intera fatta da altri Continenti. E se questa Terra non sta nell’Universo per se stessa ed è legata ad altri pianeti che formano l’Universo, essa si ritrova in un preciso continuum spazio-temporale con tutta la materia-energia in essa contenuta. Quello che abbiamo chiamato “Tutto” si giustifica allora in tutte le possibili configurazioni di un Universo che diventa Omniverso …
Arrivato a questo punto mi accorgo di essermi … perso nella mia “isola”.
December 5, 2017
"For Whom the Bell Tolls"
By John Donne
PERCHANCE he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill, as that he
knows not it tolls for him; and perchance I may think myself so
much better than I am, as that they who are about me, and see my
state, may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that. The
church is Catholic, universal, so are all her actions; all that she
does belongs to all. When she baptizes a child, that action
concerns me; for that child is thereby connected to that body which
is my head too, and ingrafted into that body whereof I am a member.
And when she buries a man, that action concerns me: all mankind is
of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is
not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language;
and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several
translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness,
some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every
translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves
again for that library where every book shall lie open to one
another. As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon calls not
upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come, so this
bell calls us all; but how much more me, who am brought so near the
door by this sickness. There was a contention as far as a suit (in
which both piety and dignity, religion and estimation, were
mingled), which of the religious orders should ring to prayers
first in the morning; and it was determined, that they should ring
first that rose earliest. If we understand aright the dignity of
this bell that tolls for our evening prayer, we would be glad to
make it ours by rising early, in that application, that it might be
ours as well as his, whose indeed it is. The bell doth toll for him
that thinks it doth; and though it intermit again, yet from that
minute that this occasion wrought upon him, he is united to God.
Who casts not up his eye to the sun when it rises? but who takes
off his eye from a comet when that breaks out? Who bends not his
ear to any bell which upon any occasion rings? but who can remove
it from that bell which is passing a piece of himself out of this
world? No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece
of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by
the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's
death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and
therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for
thee. Neither can we call this a begging of misery, or a borrowing
of misery, as though we were not miserable enough of ourselves, but
must fetch in more from the next house, in taking upon us the
misery of our neighbours. Truly it were an excusable covetousness
if we did, for affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath
enough of it. No man hath affliction enough that is not matured and
ripened by it, and made fit for God by that affliction. If a man
carry treasure in bullion, or in a wedge of gold, and have none
coined into current money, his treasure will not defray him as he
travels. Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not
current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our
home, heaven, by it. Another man may be sick too, and sick to
death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a
mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell, that tells me of his
affliction, digs out and applies that gold to me: if by this
consideration of another's danger I take mine own into
contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my
God, who is our only security...
By John Donne
PERCHANCE he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill, as that he
knows not it tolls for him; and perchance I may think myself so
much better than I am, as that they who are about me, and see my
state, may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that. The
church is Catholic, universal, so are all her actions; all that she
does belongs to all. When she baptizes a child, that action
concerns me; for that child is thereby connected to that body which
is my head too, and ingrafted into that body whereof I am a member.
And when she buries a man, that action concerns me: all mankind is
of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is
not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language;
and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several
translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness,
some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every
translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves
again for that library where every book shall lie open to one
another. As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon calls not
upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come, so this
bell calls us all; but how much more me, who am brought so near the
door by this sickness. There was a contention as far as a suit (in
which both piety and dignity, religion and estimation, were
mingled), which of the religious orders should ring to prayers
first in the morning; and it was determined, that they should ring
first that rose earliest. If we understand aright the dignity of
this bell that tolls for our evening prayer, we would be glad to
make it ours by rising early, in that application, that it might be
ours as well as his, whose indeed it is. The bell doth toll for him
that thinks it doth; and though it intermit again, yet from that
minute that this occasion wrought upon him, he is united to God.
Who casts not up his eye to the sun when it rises? but who takes
off his eye from a comet when that breaks out? Who bends not his
ear to any bell which upon any occasion rings? but who can remove
it from that bell which is passing a piece of himself out of this
world? No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece
of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by
the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's
death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and
therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for
thee. Neither can we call this a begging of misery, or a borrowing
of misery, as though we were not miserable enough of ourselves, but
must fetch in more from the next house, in taking upon us the
misery of our neighbours. Truly it were an excusable covetousness
if we did, for affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath
enough of it. No man hath affliction enough that is not matured and
ripened by it, and made fit for God by that affliction. If a man
carry treasure in bullion, or in a wedge of gold, and have none
coined into current money, his treasure will not defray him as he
travels. Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not
current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our
home, heaven, by it. Another man may be sick too, and sick to
death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a
mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell, that tells me of his
affliction, digs out and applies that gold to me: if by this
consideration of another's danger I take mine own into
contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my
God, who is our only security...
September 9, 2015
Not worth the effort to download.
This should be one of,the most beautiful meditations ever written, but this version is a one page poem. That's it. Crazy and pretty disrespectful.
This should be one of,the most beautiful meditations ever written, but this version is a one page poem. That's it. Crazy and pretty disrespectful.
October 4, 2015
Great prose, great Gospel.
April 5, 2018
The need to belong
We were created to belong
Belong to someone
Belong to life
Belong to family
Belong to friends
Belong to Divine
Belong to mankind
And I belong to you
We were created to belong
Belong to someone
Belong to life
Belong to family
Belong to friends
Belong to Divine
Belong to mankind
And I belong to you
August 5, 2018
Quite a slog but worth it for the gems unearthed. I really appreciated the introduction about Donne's life and career because it prepared me for the bombasticity (if that's a word) of the sermons and prose and forced me to reconsider things like how they might be read aloud.
October 24, 2022
metaphysical conceit (i am not catholic😹)
December 5, 2017
"No Man is an Island"
By John Donne
No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
By John Donne
No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
May 21, 2009
This really isn't a good you read ... but pick up once in a while.
April 12, 2015
Good poetry is always appreciated. The ideas in this poem about unity bring a positive feeling and a good sense of belonging, even if you don't buy into the religious tenet.
June 13, 2015
No man is island...the bell tolls for thee
June 12, 2017
The last line always gives me chills. Love it.
December 6, 2023
I have arranged my takeaway thoughts on this honestly very pretty piece of writing into a haiku:
"The bell tolls for thee—
Though it be by a stranger,
A friend; it’s for thee."
"The bell tolls for thee—
Though it be by a stranger,
A friend; it’s for thee."
October 26, 2023
This selection of John Donne's prose is necessarily abbreviated and therefore gives flavours without the full meal. Given the length and number of his sermons this is no bad thing, although I wonder whether fewer sermons at greater length may have been a better choice. Standing head and shoulders above everything else are his Devotions upon Emergent Occasions from whence the famous "no man is an island" passage comes from. Much of the devotions are in a similar vein and are of equal quality in weight and play of words. For instance, from meditation 5 on the loneliness of the sufferer:
"God himself would admit a figure of society, as there is plurality of persons in God, though there be but one God, and all his external actions testify a love of society and communion. In Heaven there are orders of angels and armies of martyrs, and in that house many mansions. In earth families, cities, churches, colleges, all plural things. And lest either of these should not be a company enough, there is an association of both, a Communion of Saints, which makes the militant and triumphant Church one parish; so that Christ was not out of his diocese when he was upon the earth, nor our of his temple when he was in our flesh."
"God himself would admit a figure of society, as there is plurality of persons in God, though there be but one God, and all his external actions testify a love of society and communion. In Heaven there are orders of angels and armies of martyrs, and in that house many mansions. In earth families, cities, churches, colleges, all plural things. And lest either of these should not be a company enough, there is an association of both, a Communion of Saints, which makes the militant and triumphant Church one parish; so that Christ was not out of his diocese when he was upon the earth, nor our of his temple when he was in our flesh."
June 27, 2020
On his deathbed, Donne poignantly points out that every individual is part of greater humanity and every loss to humanity (ie death), unknowingly, will affect everyone.
This poem especially resonates with me in the midst of this global pandemic. Humans, as extremely social beings not only thrive, but depend on contact and interactions with others (also applies to inter-nation relations). Community is essential to existence.
Truly, No man is an island, for when there is one death from the virus, it is a great loss to all of mankind...
This poem especially resonates with me in the midst of this global pandemic. Humans, as extremely social beings not only thrive, but depend on contact and interactions with others (also applies to inter-nation relations). Community is essential to existence.
Truly, No man is an island, for when there is one death from the virus, it is a great loss to all of mankind...
June 16, 2022
Very short book with selections from Donne’s ‘Devotions.’ Memories of ‘A’ level English Literature.
‘No man is an island, entire of it self; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less….’
Donne in metaphysical Brexit realisation….
‘…for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee…’
Perceptive poet.
Lovely illustrations by Helen Lush.
‘No man is an island, entire of it self; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less….’
Donne in metaphysical Brexit realisation….
‘…for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee…’
Perceptive poet.
Lovely illustrations by Helen Lush.
February 28, 2020
I’ve always found this poem to be relaxing to read. It brings me peace of mind and a clarity surrounding death I’ve never known. I’m opening myself up to more of the writings of John Donne and metaphysical poetry.
January 4, 2025
I love John Donne’s writings. I don’t think I read this book exactly but long ago in my youth I read some of his writings and they reached deep, deep inside of me. I was young then and hungry. I have never forgotten the sustenance he afforded me.
February 20, 2021
A short poem with 2 well known lines.. "No man is an island" & "for whom the bell tolls". A poem about the unity of man, what happens to one..happens to all.
July 16, 2021
Thought-provoking and highly quotable, John Donne's Meditation 17 is an easily digestible piece of philosophy.
October 8, 2022
अयं निजः परो वेति गणना लघुचेतसाम्। (Ayam Nijah Paro Veti Ganana Laghucetasam)
उदारचरितानां तु वसुधैव कुटुम्बकम्॥ (Udaracaritanam Tu Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam)
उदारचरितानां तु वसुधैव कुटुम्बकम्॥ (Udaracaritanam Tu Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam)
April 21, 2020
📘
En la poesía siempre hay algo que nos habla, que atravieza el tiempo, el espacio y la cultura. Hay algo esencial en el ser humano que nos emparenta a lo largo de los milenios, y que la poesía parece recoger con especial sensibilidad.
🇬🇧
Esta breve pieza poética, clásica y canónica de Gran Bretaña, justamente habla de eso que hermana al ser humano. No somos islas a la deriva. El bien y el mal que le ocurre a otro, tiene que ser motivo de nuestra alegría o nuestra tristeza. "Cada hombre es una pieza del continente, una parte del todo" escribe el poeta.
📜
Casi olvidado luego de su muerte (1631), le debemos su rescate a los románticos de finales del siglo XVIII. Un poeta metafísico que fue político, que se casó en secreto y fue padre de familia, presenció guerras y aventuras, un poco trotamundos y, finalmente, se convirtió en un clérigo anglicano famoso por sus sermones. En contra de las modas estéticas más dulcificadas de su época, volvió a las raices ásperas de los sajones. Casi sin saberlo.
✒
"La muerte de cualquier hombre me disminuye,
porque yo estoy involucrado en la humanidad"
En la poesía siempre hay algo que nos habla, que atravieza el tiempo, el espacio y la cultura. Hay algo esencial en el ser humano que nos emparenta a lo largo de los milenios, y que la poesía parece recoger con especial sensibilidad.
🇬🇧
Esta breve pieza poética, clásica y canónica de Gran Bretaña, justamente habla de eso que hermana al ser humano. No somos islas a la deriva. El bien y el mal que le ocurre a otro, tiene que ser motivo de nuestra alegría o nuestra tristeza. "Cada hombre es una pieza del continente, una parte del todo" escribe el poeta.
📜
Casi olvidado luego de su muerte (1631), le debemos su rescate a los románticos de finales del siglo XVIII. Un poeta metafísico que fue político, que se casó en secreto y fue padre de familia, presenció guerras y aventuras, un poco trotamundos y, finalmente, se convirtió en un clérigo anglicano famoso por sus sermones. En contra de las modas estéticas más dulcificadas de su época, volvió a las raices ásperas de los sajones. Casi sin saberlo.
✒
"La muerte de cualquier hombre me disminuye,
porque yo estoy involucrado en la humanidad"
September 11, 2020
My favorite of all of Donne's works, and one that will likely be timeless.
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