W. H. Auden’s book A Certain World was published in 1970, making it one of the last books that this amazing writer produced — he died in 1973. The book’s subtitle is A Commonplace Book, which means that it is a scrapbook of poems, quotations, short essays, word puzzles, and pieces of information that the compiler of the commonplace book wanted to have available for future use. In most cases, very little of such a book is in the complier’s own words; Auden’s book is an exception. At the same time, such a compilation can be intimately revealing of its author’s likes, dislikes, interests, obsessions and fears.
Commonplace books are something like the diary of a mind, and thus are mostly intended only for, at most, a small circle of readers. Ralph Waldo Emerson compiled a commonplace book devoted to poetry and titled it Parnassus. It is a strange book, evidently meant for his family circle, because a large number of the poems included in it are second rate and apparently sentimental favorites of one or more members of the family.
A Certain World is obviously intended for the public. The entries in it are almost without exception fresh, surprising, and, to use a flabby inexcusable word, interesting. They are grouped into 173 named sections, arranged alphabetically.
I can think of two groups of readers whom this book might interest: students of Auden’s mind, who hope to be able to discover something about the workings of that mind from the items in this miscellany; or, people who simply enjoy the poems, word puzzles, or odd scraps of information that Auden enjoyed. I belong to the second group of readers.
I especially enjoy several different kinds of items in A Certain World; first, aphorisms:
”Where is your Self to be found? Always in the deepest enchantment that you have experienced.” Hugo von Hoffsmanthal ”God loves all men but is enchanted by none.” W. H. Auden ”Men are not punished for their sins but by them.” E. Hubbard ”Every stink that fights the ventilator thinks that it is Don Quixote.” Stanislas Lec ”Our notion of symmetry is derived from the human face. Hence we demand symmetry horizontally and in breadth only; not vertically or in depth.” Blaise Pascal
Then there are quotations from the works of poets I was only slightly acquainted with or didn’t know at all: John Betjamin, William Barnes, John Clare.
Then there are excerpts from essays about things that Auden was interested in: hangmen, Napoleon, moles, book reviews, food, the medieval cosmos, poetry.
And, not surprisingly since Auden was a convinced and practicing Christian, reflections on God, by Auden and others.
The extremely miscellaneous character of the entries in this book bears the message of this book, if it has one: this world is odd, enchanted, surprising, disturbing, and worth attending to.
Unfortunately, A Certain World is out-of-print and fairly scarce, but scrounging for it online can turn up reasonably priced copies.
Books Matter 