The Romantic Landscape: Human Anatomy

Books Ruined

The Romantic Landscape: Photographs in the Tradition of the New York Hudson Valley Painters by Stan Lichens and Lois Guardino (San Francisco: Pomegranate, 2004)

Human Anatomy: A visual History from the Renaissance to the Digital Age by Benjamin A. Rifkin, Michael J. Ackerman, and Judith Folkenberg (New York: Abrams, 2006)

The Illustrations from the Works of Andreas Vesalius of Brussels by J. B. deC. M. Saunders and Charles D. O'Malley (Cleveland: World Publishing Company, 1950)

The Human Body in Health & Disease by Gary A. Thibodeau and Kevin T. Patton (St. Louis: Mosby Year Book, 1992)

English Literature: Our Literary Heritage by Ruth Mary Weeks, Rollo L. Lyman, and Howard C. Hill (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1937)

9.25" x 7.75"
2014
WHAT IS ROMANTICISM? Discontent with the Present, Faith in the Future, Insistence on Individual Freedom, and Warmth of Feeling Mark the Romanticist. (v.)
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn. (23)
Click thumbnails for a peek inside the book
Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang / As if her song could have no ending.
Our Literary Heritage
Our river is doubtless the most beautiful of them all. It pleases like a mountain lake. . . .
It has all the sweetness and placidity that go with such bodies of water...
and all their bold and rugged scenery on the other.  -John Burroughs on the Hudson River
And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever / It flung up momently the sacred river.
The World Is Too Much with Us
... late and soon, / Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon
The sea that bares her bosom to the moon; / The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; / For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.
It moves us not.
Great God! I'd rather be / A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, / Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; / Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; / Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn./
Almost an hour this side of Albany is the Center of the World--I own it.
For he on honey-dew hath fed, / And drunk the milk of Paradise.
all hiding an aching heart under a dissipated and cynical exterior
The Autobiographical Tone of His Verse
I stood / Among them, but not of them
in a shroud / Of thoughts which were not their thoughts
Summary of the Period
Dates: 1789-1837