Pleasure Domes

The fellow above is one Samuel Taylor Coleridge, born this day 1772, in Devon, England. The son of a vicar, and Cambridge educated, sort of, Coleridge suffered throughout his life with bouts of depression, and anxiety that led him to an addiction to opium. Sort of a double edged sword in many ways, because while the opium would ruin his physical, and mental health, it also was alleged the source of at least one of his most famous poems, Kubla Khan. It was in 1798 that Coleridge, and some other no talent bum named Wordworth, published Lyrical Ballads. Wordsworth wrote more of the poems contained in the book, but, in my opinion, Coleridge wrote the betters ones. The Rime of the Ancient Marniner being the main one. We all know the poem, or at least some lines from it whether we realize it or not. The idea of an albatross around ones neck come from The Rime, and it is an awesome piece of work, but a poetic genius. I have posted about Coleridge before, and I invite you to go back to that post and reread it (or just read it to begin with). I recommend his The Pains of Sleep, Dejection; An Ode, Kubla Khan, and This Lime Tree Bower; My Prison. All truly great poems written by a fucking master craftsman. Coleridge was an extremely influential poet, but he was also one of the most well thought of literary critics of his day. Not a bad state of affairs. The opium addiction wrecked his unhappy marriage, and alienated his friends and family, and it would eventually led to him living the last 18 years of his life in his personal physician's house. It was in his doctor's house which he died in 1834, as a result of heart failure. But, for making those great verses (like one of my favourites "as idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean." which describes most of my life), and for being one hell of a critic, and adding beautiful verses to an otherwise shitty world, Samuel Taylor Coleridge (October 21st, 1772- July 25th, 1834, at the age of 61), you are my hero of the day.