In fact, it seems as if epic manner
and epic content were trying for a divorce. If this be so, the
traditional epic manner will scarcely survive the separation. Epic
content, however, may very well be looking out for a match with a new
manner; though so far it does not seem to have found an altogether
satisfactory partner.
But there are one or two poems in which the old union seems still happy.
Most noteworthy is Goethe's _Hermann und Dorothea_. You may say that it
does not much matter whether such poetry should be called epic or, as
some hold, idyllic. But it is interesting to note, first, that the poem
is deliberately written with epic style and epic intention; and, second,
that, though singularly beautiful, it makes no attempt to add anything
to epic development. It is interesting, too, to see epic poetry trying
to get away from its heroes, and trying to use material the poetic
importance of which seems to depend solely on the treatment, not on
itself. This was a natural and, for some things, a laudable reaction.
But it inevitably meant that epic must renounce the triumphs which
Milton had won for it. William Morris saw no reason for abandoning
either the heroes or anything else of the epic tradition. The chief
personages of _Sigurd the Volsung_ are admittedly more than human, the
events frankly marvellous. The poem is an impressive one, and in one way
or another fulfils all the main qualifications of epic. But perhaps no
great poem ever had so many faults.
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