In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a pleasure-dome... erect!

Kubla Khan

Or a Vision in a Dream. A Fragment

Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1798)

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree:

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground

With walls and towers were girdled round:

And here were gardens bright with sinuous rills

Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;

And here were forests ancient as the hills,

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted

Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!

A savage place! as holy and enchanted

As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted

By woman wailing for her demon-lover!

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced;
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering

with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophe

sying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasureFloated midway on the waves:
Where was heard the mingle

d measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 't would win me
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Kublai Khan (Sept 23 1215 - Feb 18 1294) was a grandson of Genghis Khan, the fifth Great Khan of the Mongol Empire and founder of the Yuan Dynasty. As the Emperor who welcomed Marco Polo to China, he became a legend in Europe through Polo’s description of Xanadu (or more accurately Shàngdū) the summer palace and capital of the Yuan Dynasty which became synonymous with opulence.

The story behind the composition of the poem is one of the most famous in the history of English poetry. Samuel Taylor Coleridge explained in a short preface to the poem that he had fallen asleep after taking “an anodyne” prescribed “in consequence of a slight disposition” (Coleridge was well known to be an opium addict). Before falling asleep he had been reading a story in which Kublai Khan commanded the building of Xanadu, and Coleridge claims that while he slept he had a fantastic vision, and simultaneously composed (while sleeping) a two to three hundred word poem. Coleridge himself concedes “if that indeed can be called composition”... “ all the images rose up” ... “without any sensation or conscious effort.”

Upon waking Coleridge seized a pen and began writing furiously, and had completed the first three stanzas before being interrupted by “a person on business from Porlock” who detained him for an hour. After the interruption, Coleridge was unable to remember the details of his vision or recall the remainder of his poem. As a result, the final stanza (And on her dulcimer she played...) is believed to be written post interruption. Of course, no one knows if any of this is true. But “the person from Porlock” has become a metaphor for the malicious interruptions the world throws in the way of inspiration, and “Kubla Khan,” strange and ambiguous as it is, has become what is perhaps the definitive statement on the obstruction and thwarting of the visionary genius.

Which is all very interesting you might say, but WTF has it got to do with your blog? Well... I’m getting to that bit now.

Frankie Goes To Hollywood was my very first “concert”... I’m tempted to call it a gig but it was Wembley Arena for fucks sake. And so I’m reminded of the in no way indulgent 13 and a half minutes of Welcome To the Pleasuredome.

“In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a pleasure-dome... erect!”.

Finally, the i-pod was developed at Apple under the codename “Dulcimer”.

See! Now it all makes perfect sense. I’m glad we’ve got that over with... shall we begin?