The Collected Works of W.B. Yeats Volume XII: John Sherm

The Collected Works of W.B. Yeats Volume XII: John Sherm

by William Butler Yeats
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Overview

The Collected Works of W.B. Yeats Volume XII: John Sherm by William Butler Yeats

First published in 1891, John Sherman and Dhoya was Yeats's third separate publication. The stories were revised and reprinted in the 1908 Collected Works in Verse and Prose but not published again in Yeats's lifetime.

John Sherman, Yeats's only completed attempt at realistic fiction, details the title character's dilemma: He must choose between life in London and marriage to Margaret Leland, an English girl, and life in Ireland and marriage to a childhood sweetheart, Mary Carton. In addition to containing numerous autobiographical elements (for instance, the town of Ballah is modeled on Yeats's Sligo), the novelette treats many of Yeats's persistent themes, such as the debate between nationality and cosmopolitanism and the conflict between what he would later call the Self and the Anti-Self. In the end, Sherman reaffirms his Irish roots, and Margaret Leland's affections are transferred to Sherman's friend, the Reverend William Howard.

Dhoya, a mythological tale set in the remote past, depicts a liasion between a mortal and a fairy, a motif that Yeats used in many other works. Describing the inevitable conflict between a world of perfection and the mortal world, the short story suggests that "only the changing, and moody, and angry, and weary can love."

Well received by most contemporary reviewers, John Sherman and Dhoya are important both as works of fiction and as indications of the fundamental continuity of subject and theme in Yeats's career. This edition offers an accurate text, an introduction, and explanatory notes.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781451646450
Publisher: Scribner
Publication date: 05/07/2011
Pages: 144
Sales rank: 1,305,970
Product dimensions: 5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.40(d)

About the Author

William Butler Yeats is generally considered to be Ireland’s greatest poet, living or dead, and one of the most important literary figures of the twentieth century. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1923.

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Winterpaw felt light-headed and dizzy. <br> */Nothing?/ Did our starry ancestors abandon us?* <br> "That isn't right..." Crystalsky murmured thoughtfully. "Even if there's nothing to be shared, StarClan still visits the medicine cat at the Silverpool no matter what. Something's definately wrong here." <br> "Yea," Fawnspots broke in, "we can't choose a leader by ourselves. It will lead to more fighing and arguments. You must go back, Oceanheart. See if StarClan has /something/ to say... we need guidance from our ancestors to figure this out." Oceanheart nodded, still bewildered from his "meeting" with StarClan, and dashed out. <p> In camp, Fawnspots helped Stone make his nest in the warriors den, Dustpaw and Harepaw were chatting anxiously, probably about their overdue ceremony, and Foxpaw grumpily gnawed on a bone near the fresh-kill pile. Winterpaw decided to explain things. <br> "Foxpaw," she began, trotting up to him, "I'm sorry about this morning. I made him tell me why he almost murdured me, that's all. There's nothing going on between me and Dustpaw, I swear. I hate that tom, anyways." <br> "Oh, sure. And why didn't you ask him in camp, without a pile of pey in between you and not being in front of a beautiful river?" Foxpaw pouted like a kit that didn't get his way. <br> "It's not that simple," she narrowed her red eyes. "I wanted to take a walk and hunt by myself, but he tagged along." <br> "Oh, really?" Foxpaw argued, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted to ask him why he almost killed you." <br> *What a smart-alec! I'm just trying to explain something!* Winterpaw thought in frustration, lashing her tail in annoyance as she stormed to the edge of camp and sat, awaiting Oceanheart's arrival. WaterClan had to have a leader, and soon. Harepaw and Dustpaw needed their warrior ceremonies, Stone needed a ceremony for the second part of his name and and the announcement that he is a oficial members, and worst of all, ScorchClan might attack again if they know WaterClan is struggling an unorganized without a leader to take charge. Harepaw bounded up to join her friend. <br> "Harepaw," Winterpaw sighed, "who do you think the leader would be if we ever get this big, huge puzzle solved?" <br> "Hmm... my first thought would be my mentor, Lightstorm. He's a loyal warrior, and a senior, experianced one, too. But he's kinda quiet and seems like more of a follower, not leader." <br> "Well, sometimes quiet cats have the most to say. And has be ever been put to the test as being the leader of anything?" <br> "Not that I can remember," Harepaw admitted. "What about you?" Winterpaw had to hesitate, thinking. There were so may cats worthy... <br> "I'd have to go with Jaysong. She's kind, forgiving, and a great teacher, actually. I've learned a lot from my mentor already, and I feel like I can already be a warrior with you and Dustpaw!" She purred with laughter. Harepaw gave a good-natured shove. <br> "Yea, you wish, youngster." The two friends were silenced by Oceanheart bolting back in, even more breathless than before. <br> "Oceanheart!" Crystalsky exclaimed. " What did you learn? Did StarClan send you anything this time?" Oceanheart nodded, panting like a dog. He finally gathered enough air to speak. <br> "Y-yes. I recieved a *gasp* a prophecy." -Reflections&#9830