Mark Twain, A Biography, Vol. 2, Part 2, 1886-1900 The Personal And Literary Life Of Samuel Langhorne Clemens

Excerpt

The Browning readings must have begun about this time.  Just what kindled Mark Twain’s interest in the poetry of Robert Browning is not remembered, but very likely his earlier associations with the poet had something to do with it.  Whatever the beginning, we find him, during the winter of 1886 and 1887, studiously, even violently, interested in Browning’s verses, entertaining a sort of club or class who gathered to hear his rich, sympathetic, and luminous reading of the Payleyings—­“With Bernard de Mandeville,” “Daniel Bartoli,” or “Christopher Smart.”  Members of the Saturday Morning Club were among his listeners and others-friends of the family.  They were rather remarkable gatherings, and no one of that group but always vividly remembered the marvelously clear insight which Mark Twain’s vocal personality gave to those somewhat obscure measures.  They did not all of them realize that before reading a poem he studied it line by line, even word by word; dug out its last syllable of meaning, so far as lay within human possibility, and indicated with pencil every shade of emphasis which would help to reveal the poet’s purpose.  No student of Browning ever more devoutly persisted in trying to compass a master’s intent—­in such poems as “Sordello,” for instance—­than Mark Twain.  Just what permanent benefit he received from this particular passion it is difficult to know.  Once, at a class-meeting, after finishing “Easter Day,” he made a remark which the class requested him to “write down.”  It is recorded on the fly-leaf of Dramatis Personae as follows: