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The Inn of Dreams
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This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work.
As a reproduction of a historical artifact, this work may contain missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.
90 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1911
About the author
Olive Custance
11 books1 followerOlive Eleanor Custance (7 February 1874 – 12 February 1944) was a British poet. She was part of the aesthetic movement of the 1890s, and a contributor to The Yellow Book.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
October 2, 2021
The Inn of Dreams was the opening verse of Olive Custance’s last book of poetry, which carried the same title. And it is a mass of symbolism.
Olive was a rebellious daughter of the establishment, who plunged into the world of the Decadents and the Yellow Book, unabashedly bisexual, infatuated with one of Oscar’s boyfriends and marrying another of them, thus becoming Lady Alfred Douglas. As this volume appeared (1911), her disapproving father had gained custody of their troubled son, her husband turned angrily against his late lover and converted to Rome, their unconventional marriage largely suspended, though she would die holding his hand, thirty years later.
The inn of the title is a metaphor for her own heart, alight and welcoming, but warning of the transience of the moment: “Spur your fleet horses, this is Beauty's hour!” and “Come now, sweet friends! before the summer die.” Is this a new longing (at thirty-seven) for sublime, youthful experiences - noting that another poem in the collection sings out “God pity me and give me back my voice! God pity me and give me back my wings!”?
At that rate, her work might be called over-personalised. If, like myself, you find her an attractive and intriguing figure, the poems can reward analysis as well as aesthetic response. But under the test, they cannot be placed in the first class, being neither memorable nor quotable. Like Edith Sitwell’s, they rank as good journeyman verse, never bad but never great.
Personalised as they are, then, I feel we might have expected a female voice for the recording (with respect to the mysterious Irishman ‘Nemo’ who still delivers a good recital).
Olive was a rebellious daughter of the establishment, who plunged into the world of the Decadents and the Yellow Book, unabashedly bisexual, infatuated with one of Oscar’s boyfriends and marrying another of them, thus becoming Lady Alfred Douglas. As this volume appeared (1911), her disapproving father had gained custody of their troubled son, her husband turned angrily against his late lover and converted to Rome, their unconventional marriage largely suspended, though she would die holding his hand, thirty years later.
The inn of the title is a metaphor for her own heart, alight and welcoming, but warning of the transience of the moment: “Spur your fleet horses, this is Beauty's hour!” and “Come now, sweet friends! before the summer die.” Is this a new longing (at thirty-seven) for sublime, youthful experiences - noting that another poem in the collection sings out “God pity me and give me back my voice! God pity me and give me back my wings!”?
At that rate, her work might be called over-personalised. If, like myself, you find her an attractive and intriguing figure, the poems can reward analysis as well as aesthetic response. But under the test, they cannot be placed in the first class, being neither memorable nor quotable. Like Edith Sitwell’s, they rank as good journeyman verse, never bad but never great.
Personalised as they are, then, I feel we might have expected a female voice for the recording (with respect to the mysterious Irishman ‘Nemo’ who still delivers a good recital).
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May 18, 2024Urocze są to wierszyki
January 4, 2016
Simple yet enjoyable.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews



