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| Master of his fate. Captain of his soul. |
Today
is National Poetry Day in the UK. I’m
not a huge fan of poetry, but as a former English Literature major, I’ve
certain read more than my fair share (and probably some of your share as
well). I do, however, have a soft spot
for a good bit of verse. Invictus is one such poem. You might be familiar with it already,
possibly from Nelson Mandela's history, or from the Matt Damon movie of the same
name (which invoked the poem), but you may not know much about the author.
William
Ernest Henley (1849–1903) was a Victorian poet, who suffered—as many did at that
time—a dirt-poor childhood and all the pains that go along with that. One of those remaining “gifts” from his
younger years was, as with many others, tuberculosis. In 1875, when Henley was 26, complications
from his tuberculosis cost him his left leg.
The upside of this was that his friend and fellow writer, Robert Lewis
Stevenson, based Long John Silver partially on Henley’s jovial character and,
of course, the amputated leg. Stevenson
wrote to Henley in a letter after the publication of Treasure Island:
I will now make a
confession: It was the sight of your maimed strength and masterfulness that
begot Long John Silver . . . the idea of the maimed man, ruling and dreaded by
the sound, was entirely taken from you.
Further
misfortune befell Henley, and his doctors advised that to save his life, his
other leg must also be amputated. As a
life-long runner, I can imagine the sheer horror of facing that kind of loss—and
Victorian medicine was in its infancy, with prosthetics still rudimentary at
best, and always painful. Henley sought
out Dr. Joseph Lister, who was a pioneering surgeon of the time, and although
he underwent several painful surgeries over the next few years, his right leg
was saved.
While
Henley was recovering in the hospital, he wrote an untitled poem, which was
included in his first published collection Book
of Verses. Later, the title Invictus was added; Latin for “undefeated”
or “unconquerable”.
With
this history in mind, it is understandable why I chose to incorporate the
verses of Henley’s Invictus into the titles for Company of the Damned. Del’s history, that of the characters that
surround her, and her current circumstances seem (perhaps arrogantly) worthy of
Henley’s beautiful words. Thus, I
present for your reading pleasure the poem, Invictus:
Out of the night
that covers me,
Black as the pit
from pole to pole,
I thank whatever
gods may be
For my
unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch
of circumstance
I have not winced
nor cried aloud.
Under the
bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody,
but unbowed.
Beyond this place
of wrath and tears
Looms but the
Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace
of the years
Finds, and shall
find me, unafraid.
It matters not how
strait the gate,
How charged with
punishments the scroll,
I am the master of
my fate:
I am the captain
of my soul.
Thank
you, Mr. Henley. Thank you very much.
Please feel free to share the titles and authors of your favorite poems in the comments.
