The Grasmere Journal was composed between the years of 1800-1803 while D. Wordsworth and her brother were residing in the township of Grasmere located in the British Lake District. Mr Simpson drank tea. The wife would make tea 4 to 5 times in a day and sec’folks for sugars! We all stood to look at Glow-worm Rock a primrose that grew there, and just looked out on the road from its own sheltered bower. On the Raise we met a woman with two little girls, one in her arms, the other, about four years old, walking by her side, a pretty little thing, but half-starved. Monday, 7th June. We walked in the evening to Tail End, to inquire about hurdles for the orchard shed and about Mr. Luff’s flower. The moon had the old moon in her arms, but not so plain to be seen as the night before. I saw them there, and heard William flinging stones into the river, whose roaring was loud even where I was. While Levin does gesture to the circle of canonical romantic writers that D. Wordsworth was a part of, she also make explicit her second objective: to highlight D. Wordsworth’s “independent authorial presence” instead of assuming her “adjunct to the literary energies of Romanticism” (xi). I answered this letter before I went to bed. William came in just when M. had left me. – A showery morning. All was still. This means that any material that was excised from Knight’s edition or Levin’s edition has been cited as from de Selincourt’s publication (not the original manuscript) purely for practical reasons as the manuscript images are not open source and the publication page numbers in de Selincourt’s edition make it much easier to locate specific passages than fining them in the handwritten entries of the manuscript. There are no sheep, no cattle upon these lawns. His footnotes mostly annotate intertexual references, and identify individuals and places – allowing the audience to be privy to knowledge that would have been obvious and inherent to D. Wordsworth’s composition. The lake was calm, the day cloudy. I could not rest when I got to bed. de Selincourt strives to preserve what he sees as the text’s “private, intimate character” by barely intruding on the reading experience in his lack of distracting footnotes (vi). But that holly tree had a beauty about it more than its own, knowing as we did when we arose. Miss Simpson came to colour the rooms. – When we were sitting after breakfast – William about the shave – Luff came in. 20 New Books on Women’s History. The valley is at first broken by little woody knolls that make retiring places, fairy valleys in the vale, the river winds along under these hills, travelling, not in a bustle but not slowly, to the lake. Mr. Simpsons drank tea with us. It was a cool morning. At this time William, as I found the next day, was riding by himself between Middleham and Barnard Castle, having parted from Mary. William was walking when we came in – he had slept miserably for 2 nights past, so we all went to bed soon. There were one or two slight showers. It is now between eight and nine o’clock. – Wm. William dug a little. – I had my breakfast in bed, being not quite well – I then walked to Rydale. Levin’s placement of these two excerpts next to each other, through her deletion of the four entries present in between, emphasizes D. Wordsworth’s emotional attachment and deep fascination with nature. We rode in her cart to Tom Dawson’s. We came in at 8 o’clock, got tea, wrote to Coleridge, and I wrote to Mrs. Clarkson part of a letter. After dinner he was better and I greatly better. A second trend of deletions visible in Knight’s edition in is his effort to construct a more exclusive, triangulated friendship between D. Wordsworth, W. Wordsworth, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge. The cuckoo sang, and we watched the little birds as we sate at the door of the cow-house. The air coldish, where it was felt – somewhat frosty. It was a lovely night. May 6th 1993 No letters. Poor little creatures, they could not themselves be more distressed than I was. I was in bed all day – very ill. William wrote to Rd., Cr. Grasmere Journal, 15 April 1802. William wrote the poem on The Robin and the Butterfly I went to drink tea at Luff’s, but as we did not dine till 6 o’clock it was late. Foxgloves are now frequent, the first I saw was that day with Ellen and the first ripe strawberries. His beard was very thick and grey, of a fortnight’s growth we guessed ; it was a regular beard, like grey plush. I walked with her to Rydale. As soon as breakfast was over, we went into the garden, and sowed the scarlet beans about the house. The hills were covered over with a slight covering of hail or snow, just so as to give them a hoary winter look with the black rocks. He had been attacked by a cow. I. William lay on his back on the seat. William began a letter to John Wilson. Welcome back. Biogr aphical Notes of Settlers of the First Decade. One seemed to be about sixty, a man with a jolly red face ; he looked as if he might have lived many years in Mr. Curwen’s house. This investigation will rely on both traditional and digital methodologies: the introductions to each edition will be closely read using conventional literary practices and the edited reading texted will be comparatively analyzed using the textual analysis software of Juxta Commonsbeta. William fell asleep, he had a bad headache owing to his having been disturbed the night before, with reading C.’s letter. Famed for its endless rolling hills, craggy coastlines and clotted cream delights, Devon is unsurprisingly one of the most popular destinations in the UK – and a dream for rural road-trippers! He called us, and we found him in a bower the sweetest that was ever seen. We sate together talking till the first dawning of day; a happy time. – A fine morning. She went on – Old Mary Watson was at Goan’s there when the child died. I was tired of making beds, cooking etc. Sate in the sun. Knight fosters this relationship by removing the majority of references to D. Wordsworth socializing with other individuals outside of this elite literary circle. Featured is my friend Juliette who portrays Dorothy. William met me at Rydale – Aggie (5) accompanied me thither. Altri progetti. William wrote a conclusion to the poem of the Butterfly: I was quite out of spirits, and went into the orchard. Turning to the Juxta Commonsbeta visualization, in addition to Knight’s various edits, Levin further pares down the excerpts between April to July, 1802 of D. Wordsworth’s The Grasmere Journal from Knight’s 71 entries to a mere 28. We sate In the orchard. Loughrigg Fell was the most distant hill, then came the lake, slipping in between the copses. Wilkinson came in while we were at dinner. Said he, “You’re a fine woman!” I could not help smiling; I suppose he meant, “You’re a kind woman.” Afterwards a woman called, travelling to Glasgow. Just a moment while we sign you in to your Goodreads account. William went to bed immediately. … On Tuesday 20th, when we were sitting after tea, Coleridge came to the door. We sent off our parcel to Coleridge by wagon. . I plashed about the well, was much heated, and I think I caught cold. He had come over in a trick of passion to auld Mary to tell her she might take her own again, her daughter and the bairns. William finished his poem on going for Mary. It will serve as a blind for them. I was delighted with what I saw. I wonder if the book would have been seen worth publishing had she not been Wordworth's sister and had they not had many meetings with Coleridge and other literary luminaries? 14 May to 22 December 1800; II. We have let the bright sun go down without walking. there they are, side by side, both looking down into the garden. When I came home I found William at work attempting to alter a stanza in the poem on our going for Mary, which I convinced him did not need altering. I hung over the gate, and thought I could have stayed for ever. I wrote to M.H., my brother Christr. Monday 26th. I sate up a while after William. It had come under the bench where he was sitting and then flew up to his leg; he thoughtlessly stirred himself to look further at it, and it flew on to the apple tree above him. . The moon was a perfect boat, a silver boat, when we were out in the evening. We went to bed immediately – I slept upstairs. However, what is missing, as indicated by the ellipses, is: “[c]ame home to dinner, then went to Mr. Simpson’s we rested a long time under a wall, sheep and lambs were in the field” (de Selincourt 139-140).
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