15 reads for people who love the idea of the Romantics but find Wordsworth boring.

As a Romanticist, I am very aware (as all scholars should be) that there are aspects of my field that are widely considered boring, and that popular perceptions can colour how people feel about the discipline as a whole. Being presented with one poem at school can really turn people off engaging with the tradition more widely – but with cottagecore and dark academia all over the internet, those selfsame people who found ‘Lyrical Ballads’ or ‘My Last Duchess’ disengaging are now finding themselves willing to dive back into Romanticism – and who is better placed to tell them where to look to get their fill of Sensibility, than somebody who seeks Romanticism in everything?

Here are my top picks for engaging with Romanticism for somebody who has previously been bored by it. These texts are weird, in different genres, or written for modern audiences about Romanticism – in short, they’re not really the kind of thing you’d come across in school, or even university, really. I picked these to represent much of what there is to love about this style of writing and relating to art, so hopefully everybody will find something to enjoy among these suggestions.

Underrated Romantic Texts

Atta Troll, Heinrich Heine

Atta Troll is utterly batshit. It’s a story in verse about a sentient bear who escapes from captivity because of a spiritual awakening, and the chaos that ensues. It goes on a long, irrelevant tirade about witches, and contains salty asides about other prominent poets and intellectuals of the age. It could be a metaphor for anything, and can be read as the ultimate criticism of Romanticism or as an embodiment of all of its tropes together… and I love it. To me, this is pure Romanticism, from somebody who loves the genre but is disillusioned with it, which makes it very accessible for newcomers: even if you don’t get every reference, you learn the passion and the undercurrent of sadness that drives Romanticism, and it gives you a great idea of the debates that raged and how strongly people felt. This poem is hardly ever read, even in Germany, and it deserves so much better.

The Last Man, Mary Shelley

This is a prescient read: Shelley fully predicted how Britain would act in a pandemic, although she had more faith in elected leadership than I do currently. Along with the deep political significance, though, comes a heartfelt story of love and friendship that introduces you to the fictionalised versions of some of British Romanticism’s key players, including Mary’s late husband Percy. The way Shelley portrays a society that looks so much like our own displays an intelligence and perceptiveness that matches the depth of personal feeling in her more famous book – and makes this just as worth reading for lovers of politics and slow-burn drama.

The stories of E. T. A. Hoffmann

Reading Hoffmann is wild: his stories created the idea of the unheimlich, blurring the lines between what’s plausible and what’s fantasy, and developing a creeping sense of dread in his reader. In addition, these are all short stories: even his novels are short by today’s standards, so they are something to dip into and engage with the sensation of Romanticism before plunging you back into the real world when you’re finished. That’s the true horror.

The poetry of Robert Burns

We know Burns as the national poet of Scotland, and his famous works are often repeated without being considered or even understood, but Burns’ verse is deep, versatile, and intense. His love poems, his anti-war poems, and his poems of national identity and pride all demonstrate the idealism of the era and allow us to see just how warped these ideas have become, and his comedic poems show us how prolific he was and how Romanticism found inspiration everywhere. His status as a songwriter allowed his work to spread widely and seep into the culture, and the result of this is that I guarantee you know a Burns poem, even if you didn’t know it was him. Read Burns for pure entertainment.

The Queen of Spades by Pushkin

Pushkin is the non-British Romanticist, second only perhaps to Goethe. His definitive work, Eugene Onegin, is beloved: it is an opera and a ballet, as well as the inspiration for a number of Russian works of literature and the basis of a stock character therein, but it is very much set in its own time period, which can make it hard to understand. Queen of Spades, on the other hand, is a much shorter book, and its themes are more universal: greed, fear, and social climbing. It is probably inspired by Hoffmann’s work, as it shares a supernatural menace and subtextual desire for simplicity. If you’re attracted to Tolstoy, Hugo, and Dickens, you should try Pushkin.

Romanticism in Other Formats

The essays of Michel de Montaigne

These are really from the renaissance, but they demonstrate the transition into a Romantic perspective, and helped inspired thinkers like Rousseau and Emerson to develop the Romantic worldview. De Montaigne writes about disparate subjects, many of which become core to Romanticism, such as religion, the self, society, and the act of teaching or learning – and reading them is like finding proto-self-help. No wonder so many people loved him!

The Ring of the Niebelung, Wagner

Wagner is by no means my favourite musician or person, but reading his adaptation of German’s most ancient text demonstrates the liberties taken by Romanticists. Really, this is not an adaptation at all, but takes inspiration from the legends and history, and is perhaps more interesting as a book (Penguin published it quite recently) than as opera’s longest self-indulgence. Wagner also represents a darker side of Romanticism – the side that approves of genocide and power structures – making him an interesting counterbalance to Heine and Saint-Simonism, and an important figure in understanding the movement as a whole.

The Ballet Called Giselle, Cyril Beaumont

This is about the ballet, rather than the ballet itself, but it places the reader in the context of Romanticism by demonstrating how many aspects of art were woven together in the hands of the Romantics, and how inspiration was layered on inspiration. Giselle is based on a longform poem by Heinrich Heine (Die Elementargeister), which is based on a German legend. This is, again, Romanticism engaging with history and poaching ideas from within the canon that existed to them and bending it to fit their aesthetic – and a deep dive into just one text.

The Stones of Venice, John Ruskin

Ruskin is writing on architecture, history, and culture, all in this one little book. He is a scholar rather than an artist, but still he brings (like other scholars of the time) a passion and love for a wide array of art styles and their creation. In this book he discusses stonemasons as well as architects and fresco painters, and he explores the influences that have gone into that which he loves.

A New View of Society, Robert Owen

Owen is a less obvious choice than Rousseau, but just as interesting: a Welshman in Scotland, a mill-owner who supported workers, an idealist and an investor and a philanthropist, Owen’s work shows how Romanticists like Blake influenced working life and government, in Britain and abroad, and how Romanticism sought to have philosophy and art as active influences in their work, whatever medium that was in.

Biographies and Histories: Romantic Life

Jerusalem! The Real Life of William Blake, Tobias Churton

Blake had incredibly intense beliefs, and reading about how he enacted those teaches us about one of Romanticism’s fringe figures and demonstrates that crony-groups were not the only way to create art. Blake’s multi-media career and passionate advocacy create a forceful image, and Churton is careful to showcase him in a way that the reader can relate to his ideas, wants, and impressions.

Mary Shelley: The Strange, True Tale of Frankenstein’s Creator, Catherine Reef

Although Charlotte Gordon’s book on Shelley and her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, is a tour-de-force, Catherine Reef’s is more accessible and less political, instead focussing on Shelley’s intense and traumatic personal life and its influence on her work and the way she chose to be. It’s a fitting tribute to our goth queen, and very fun.

Keats, Andrew Motion

John Keats is perhaps the saddest figure of Romanticism, dying so young and leaving such incredible work behind him. I’ve never much liked Andrew Motion’s poetry, but his biographical style is wonderful, and I love the humanity he brings to Keats.

Pre-Raphaelite Sisters, Jan Marsh

The gallery exhibition that accompanied this was incredible: eye-opening, curating a new gaze into perspectives on late Romanticism. The women in this book demonstrate the different ways you can be involved with Romantic art, and the different attitudes people in that world held towards art.

Hans Christian Andersen: A New Life, Jens Andersen

Romanticism’s sad, queer loner. Reading about Andersen demonstrates the world these artists were working in moreso than understanding any other figure of the time – the incredible freedom he illustrated in his art, compared to the rigid structures of class and gender he lived under, created the unique perspective that comes through in his stories.

On This Topic:

• There is a lot to disagree with here, but it’s a great primer on the ideas of the Romantics, and not so Anglo-centric as many tellings. Parts 1, 2, and 3 of Peter Ackroyd on Romanticism
• Get to know Romanticism through art and music as well as literature
• This retelling of The Nutcracker – this podcast has also done some lovely Hans Andersen stories

To-Do:

• Book a dermatologist appointment
• Book tix to: Moulin Rouge, Menswear @ V&A, go to Leicester
• Clear diary for April and get some rest

Today’s Culture:

• I can’t stop listening to Chappell Roan
• Herbal Essences x Kew Gardens is low key the best shampoo / conditioner I’ve used in ages? It doesn’t irritate the scalp and it smells delicious
• So excited to head to Whitechapel Gallery next week! I haven’t been to see art in ages