The Collected Works of Isaac Rosenberg: Poetry, Prose, Letters, Paintings and Drawings

by Ian Parsons

A collection of Rosenberg's works includes not only all his poetry, but also his prose and painting and drawings, the latter of which are now in the Imperial War Museum. Isaac Roseberg was brought up in the poor Jewish community of the East End and died in action at the end of World War I.

Genres: Poetry, World War I

320 pages, Paperback

First published October 1, 1984

Reviews

[Willy Marz Thiessam · Rating 4 out of 5]

Siegfried Sassoon called Rosenberg a "fruitful fusion between Hebrew and English cultures". I am not quite sure what that means. What I do know is that Rosenberg was developing a style that was at first glance reminiscent of styles of early modern European writers so fascinated and inspired by their Hebrew readings of sacred texts.

"Through these pale cold days / What dark faces burn / Out of three thousand years, / and their wild eyes yearn,/... They leave these blond still days / In dust behind their tread / they see with living eyes / How long they have been dead"
(The destruction of Jerusalem of the Babylonian Hordes, 1918)


Even in his art work with such pictures as the "First meeting of Adam and Eve", we find a tension and a drama of a life determined to survive and grow despite all adversity, or perhaps because of it.

He put the matter of his writing quite neatly when he said:

"Poor people are born in troubles and spend all their lives trying to get out of them. But, born free, all try to get into them."

Killed in the German Spring Offensive of 1918 we see in his letters, drawings and poetry a man whose existence in the First World War from 1915 had seen him wounded and seriously weakened. His bodily strength ebbed and he pointed out that he was more a hindrance at the front line instead of a help.

Perhaps this lends the poet and artist the soul of his expression.

"I have lived in the underworld too long / For you, O creature of light, / To hear without terror the dark spirit's song / and unmoved hear what moves in the night."

He was killed during a night watch in April 1918. My poor words will not give this amazing light voice. It is a shame that Rosenberg died so young as he matured his style and intensity of vision. It is also a shame that this volume is but little one can find to give respect to this achievement. (There is much that needs to be edited out.) But we know the man and his time were one, and this work gives you that in all the loss and waste that was the First World War. The tragedy was his tragedy. The sweetness and beauty of his writing remains.

The only thing to add is that I can not speak about his visual art. To me it is striking and just as great as the poetry if not greater, but I am not the person to say.

[Ahmed · Rating 4 out of 5]

the book contain really a great image of the war the poem let you too feel the situation of the battle

[dill · Rating 5 out of 5]

I sort of don't want to write a review for this, because I don't think I'd ever be able to find the words to express how passionate I feel about Rosenberg's work. I think he was, by far, one of the most skilled poets of his generation. He has so many interesting ideas at play - his reverence for art is twice as pious as any holy book I've ever read, his worship of nature is unparalleled, his desire for survival and growth and improvement is so incredibly charming and deeply, deeply tragic in the context of his fate. Even when his poetic skill is more immature, where his metaphors don't ring quite as powerfully as they do elsewhere in his work, there is something alive in it, something pulsing that I can't help but be completely enchanted by. There are frankly not praises high enough for the man - out of any historical poets I've studied, he's one of the few I'd give anything to meet. I know I'm being completely subjective but I think, if any artist deserves it, it's Rosenberg.

"Art widens the scope of living by increasing the bounds of thought. New moods and hitherto unfelt particles of feeling are perpetually created by these new revelations. This interfusion of man's spirit, eager to beget and crowd existence with every final possibility." - Art 244

[Gavin Dobson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another poet and artist who met his end on the Western Front. He survived until April 1918 having lived through the Somme in 1916 and the influenza epidemic of 1917. He was a private, completely unassuming, did his job to the best of his abilities and died on a night patrol.
This book offers poetry, plays, letters and illustrations of his paintings.

[Patricia N. McLaughlin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Favorite Poems:
“Break of Day in the Trenches”
“Returning We Hear the Larks”