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PoisonIvy
10th February 2008, 06:38
Ok, being a lit geek first and foremost, I thought it might be fun to compile a list of all of the literary references in TW (I may be the only one to think this fun... but surely there must be more Ianto types on here :wink:). That said, I shall begin with the ones I know:

1. Episode 1.05, "Small Worlds":
[spoiler:p2xqjgm3]"Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances,
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's morefully of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,.
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For to world's morefully of weeping than you can understand.

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal-chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
from a world more full of weeping than you can understand."[/spoiler:p2xqjgm3](The Stolen Child by W.B. Yeats)

2. Episode 1.07, "Greeks Bearing Gifts";
[spoiler:p2xqjgm3]"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced :
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war !

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,

That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise."[/spoiler:p2xqjgm3](Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge)


3. Episode 1.08, "They Keep Kiling Suzie":
[spoiler:p2xqjgm3]"Because I could not stop for Death —
He kindly stopped for me —
The Carriage held but just Ourselves —
And Immortality.

We slowly drove — He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility —

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess — in the Ring —
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain —
We passed the Setting Sun —

Or rather — He passed Us —
The Dews drew quivering and Chill —
For only Gossamer, my Gown —
My Tippet — only Tulle —

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground —
The Roof was scarcely visible —
The Cornice — in the Ground —

Since then — 'tis Centuries — and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity —"[/spoiler:p2xqjgm3](Because I could not stop for Death by Emily Dickinson)

4. Episode 1.08, "They Keep Kiling Suzie":
[spoiler:p2xqjgm3]"O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead."[/spoiler:p2xqjgm3](O Captain! My Captain! by Walt Whitman)

5. Episode 2.04, "Meat":
Ianto: "Listen to Ahab" (referencing Moby Dick by Herman Melville)

I wanted to include the poems in their entirity because I think it adds more to why it is referenced and how it relates to the episode. On Melville, however, I realized that would just be silly (have you seen the size of that bloody book? Gahhh...)

Did anyone catch anything else?! Am I the only one crazy enough to find this interesting?! :scenic:

nikki
11th February 2008, 11:26
hey! i'll join you on the stage of literature-loving geeks!!!! have always wanted to look up some of the lit references in the shows but never remembered or had time. have always love 'O Captain, My Captain' and am in the process of printing it out on nice paper and framing it to go on my wall.....mmm*thinking* may see if i can get JB to sign it, how cool would that be!!! also love the Colridge poem, have a strange feeling i may have read it before, just feel like i know that first stanza. thanks for doing this!!! and if you want a geeky chat about literature, feel free!!! :yes:

RisenMitten
14th February 2008, 18:19
I love the idea of this thread, thank you for creating it. I'm not very well read (or at all read I suppose) so it's great to put the reference with its text.

Um in Ghost Machine Gwen calls Bernie Harris The Scarlet Pimpernel of Splott, does that count?

Aspirateur
14th February 2008, 22:20
Um in Ghost Machine Gwen calls Bernie Harris The Scarlet Pimpernel of Splott, does that count?

(Sorry, random aside thought, reading that just made me realise I now seem to automatically read Splott as Splow and then correct myself. 'Tis a bad sign methinks. :lol: )

Ahem. :focus:

DavidsGirl841444
14th February 2008, 22:40
Never noticed that I mean I heard them thought they were great to add but whoa. Good catches.

PoisonIvy
17th February 2008, 02:24
I love the idea of this thread, thank you for creating it. I'm not very well read (or at all read I suppose) so it's great to put the reference with its text.

Um in Ghost Machine Gwen calls Bernie Harris The Scarlet Pimpernel of Splott, does that count?

Hmmmm... I don't know how much the books really go along with the series, but nice catch!! :good:

If you ever get time to read, read "Maurice" by E.M. Forester... it's a relatively quick read! And it's full of canon slash, lol! Always a plus! :wink: Even if you do end up wanting to kill Clive... gahhhh... I think I was in the middle of the Studen Union when I started ranting and raving at the book. Looked like a right nutter!

Back on topic:
6. Episode 2.06, "Reset":
Martha: "Oh, I am a camera!" (Jack even points this one out, The Berlin Stories by Christopher Isherwood)

nikki
6th March 2008, 18:44
ok, so been trying to find the quote (cant even remember what was said now and dnt have dwnlaod so cant go back and look at it) that Jack says to Owen in the cell, during the conversation about feeling the bricks etc. was it something by Proust? is that the name he said? or someone else?? help me!! :beg:

PoisonIvy
10th March 2008, 04:34
ok, so been trying to find the quote (cant even remember what was said now and dnt have dwnlaod so cant go back and look at it) that Jack says to Owen in the cell, during the conversation about feeling the bricks etc. was it something by Proust? is that the name he said? or someone else?? help me!! :beg:

Bugger, I missed this (both the post and the reference... well, granted, I heard it when I first watched it but was still trying to degrossify the feelings I got when Owen was barfing everything up... ewwwww....)

So, I looked it up for you, and Jack says:

"Only in suffering do we recognize beauty." and claims it was Proust who said it.

I admit I've never read Proust (formally, we were only allowed to read text in their original form (ie Chaucer's Troilus and Criseyde was only read in Middle English), so Proust would have been covered in French Lit, and I don't speak a lick of French, so it was doomed never to happen... lol) though I would like to read a translation one of these days (ironically, I spent most of my summers in college reading translations of Dumas, Hugo, Tolstoy, etc because I never got to read any of them for class, and that made me a sad panda :resent: ). Therefore, I can only assume the reference is to À la recherche du temps perdu (in English, Remembrance of Things Past/ In Search of Lost Time). Someone please correct me if I'm wrong. I'll just credit it to Proust and nothing more to be safe! So:

7. Episode 2.07, "Dead Man Walking":
Jack: "Only in suffering do we recognize beauty." (Marcel Proust)

Cayendi
10th March 2008, 07:28
If you ever get time to read, read "Maurice" by E.M. Forester... it's a relatively quick read! And it's full of canon slash, lol! Always a plus! :wink: Even if you do end up wanting to kill Clive... gahhhh... I think I was in the middle of the Studen Union when I started ranting and raving at the book. Looked like a right nutter!

One of my favourite books :)
And one I'll have to re-read soon. It was the only book on my reading list for Themes in Literature that I had actually read before, so I'm saving it for the last assignment ... as a dessert, kind of.
I never wanted to kill Clive, Anne was punishment enough (though she seemed lovely). [spoiler:2qkxpd2f]He'll always have to live with what he let go ... that's the way I always looked at it.[/spoiler:2qkxpd2f]

And the film of course. Both James Wilby and Hugh Grant are great actors, but look horrid in moustaches, extremely horrid.

PoisonIvy
10th March 2008, 12:42
One of my favourite books :)
And one I'll have to re-read soon. It was the only book on my reading list for Themes in Literature that I had actually read before, so I'm saving it for the last assignment ... as a dessert, kind of.
I never wanted to kill Clive, Anne was punishment enough (though she seemed lovely). [spoiler:tcj7ypfq]He'll always have to live with what he let go ... that's the way I always looked at it.[/spoiler:tcj7ypfq]

And the film of course. Both James Wilby and Hugh Grant are great actors, but look horrid in moustaches, extremely horrid.

I'm rereading it at present and it is one of my favourite boks, too. :grin: But, honestly, it's really the movie that implies any regret on Clive's part, the book if I recall, is not so redeeming of his character. And I have issues with the notion that [spoiler:tcj7ypfq]men are for fun but you settle down with a woman (hence my dislike of many people thinking it's the message in TW), and Clive seems to espouse that idea... not saying Forester does (YAY!) but Clive seems to act like the whole thing with Maurice was a big pile of "platonic fun" and that the boy should move on. Which makes him a giant poo-head.

I was also reading this on the heels of Brideshead Revisited and was thoroughly pissed at Waugh for implying that Charles moved from Sebastian to errrr... his sister, then ultimately to god. As if each love was more noble than the last... whatever dude, you spent 2/3 of the book on Sebastian and Charles' relationship... I can't believe they are making a movie of only the second part with Charles and Sebastian's sister... ridiculous!!![/spoiler:tcj7ypfq]

Pip
5th May 2008, 21:39
Ok… I’m not sure if this is the correct place to put this, but it does seem the closest. Apologies because I’m going wildly off-topic, but, since I’ve come across this again while trying to sort out books and things, and since if I attempt to explain it to my mother, she’ll just look at me as if to say: “You’ve been reading again, haven’t you?” *sighs*

Anyway! The point. I’ve always had this love for the words of Sir Walter Raleigh, and while allowing myself to drown in the few of them that there are earlier (it’s a bank holiday), I realised that this one could quite easily be something Ianto would want to say to Jack after he’s gone. It’s all that about untidiness, and the insightful bit at the end, oh, and all of it… *sniffles*

Oh, and I’m really putting this here because sharing it with you will likely keep me from writing heartbreaking fan fiction where Ianto is in fact dead. Trust me… you don’t want me to do that. I have had the sheer nerve to edit it slightly, but it is still rather long.

[spoiler:2ng9vkj3]Last Will

When I am safely laid away,
Out of work and out of play,
One or two of those I leave.
Will remember me and grieve,
Thinking how I made them gay,
By the things I used to say;
-- But the crown of their distress,
Will be my untidiness.

What a nuisance then will be,
All that shall remain of me!
Shelves of books I never read,
Piles of bills, undocketed,
Shaving-brushes, razors, strops,
Bottles that have lost their tops,
Faded ties and broken braces,
Tucked away in secret places,
And that ghostliest of shows,
Boots and shoes in horrid rows.
Though they are of cheerful mind,
My lovers, whom I leave behind,
When they find these in my stead,
Will be sorry I am dead.

They will grieve; but you, my dear,
Who have never tasted fear,
Brave companion of my youth,
Free as air and true as truth,
Do not let these weary things,
Rob you of your junketings.

Burn the papers; sell the books;
Clear out all the pestered nooks;
Make a mighty funeral pyre,
For the corpse of old desire,
Till there shall remain of it,
Naught but ashes in a pit:
And when you have done away,
All that is of yesterday,
If you feel a thrill of pain,
Master it, and start again.

Take the good that life can give,
For the time you have to live.
Friends of yours and friends of mine,
Surely will not let you pine.
If the Fates are kind to you,
Some will stay to see you through;
And the time will not be long,
Till the silence ends the song.

We that have been heart to heart,
Fall asleep, and drift apart.
Will that overwhelming tide,
Reunite us, or divide?
Whence we come and whither go,
None can tell us, but I know,
Passion's self is often marred,
By a kind of self-regard,
And the torture of the cry,
"You are you, and I am I."
While we live, the waking sense,
Feeds upon our difference,
In our passion and our pride,
Not united, but allied.

We are severed by the sun,
And by darkness are made one.

Sir Walter Raleigh[/spoiler:2ng9vkj3]

*sighs*

It’s just so elegant, and simple, beautiful and clever. And I am still feeling incredibly inspired by it, but hopefully now I can restrain myself (that’s actually a really good trick if you can do it. I kid you not, I’ve seen it done).

Sir Walter Raleigh – who will forever be known as the first person to go abroad and bring back tobacco. Nearly five hundred years later, we’re all still bringing it back. Now that’s how to set a trend.

Pip :)