Abstract
Attempts to implicate Keats in the transcendental concerns of his Romantic contemporaries have never seemed very persuasive. He has remained for most of his readers a master of the ‘fine isolated verisimilitude’, not an irritable reacher after the absolute. He remains so to me. Endymion may love ‘to the very white of truth’, but, as John Bayley remarks, the phrase suggests a Brazil nut rather than white radiance. Truth, for Keats, is immanent, not transcendent: it is to be found within, not beyond, human experience. I had better quote at once the passage that might seem to contradict me:
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© 1988 Richard Cronin
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Cronin, R. (1988). Woven Colours. In: Colour and Experience in Nineteenth-Century Poetry. Palgrave Macmillan, London. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-349-09556-8_6
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DOI: https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-349-09556-8_6
Publisher Name: Palgrave Macmillan, London
Print ISBN: 978-1-349-09558-2
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