Stage III: Create your own edition

Wilfred Owen: Creating your Edition

You have now had an opportunity to look at all manuscripts and typescripts, and should have reached a decision on which one is to be your base manuscript. Your task now is to create the edition itself.

Before you start, use the above tabs to : Familiarise yourself with transcription notation Read through our brief example edition 
Use the below manuscripts, this time with their diplomatic transcripts alongside, to create an edition. You should start with the transcript of your base manuscript and then make appropriate edits, ensuring to note the different manuscript variations at the bottom, to create an edition of the poem you think suits best.

Use the below manuscripts, this time with their diplomatic transcripts alongside, to create an edition. You should start with the transcript of your base manuscript and then make appropriate edits, ensuring to note the different manuscript variations at the bottom, to create an edition of the poem you think suits best.

When looking at the manuscripts you think MS B is the ‘base manuscript’ the nearest to the final version the poet managed. Select MS B and on the right hand panel you will see a diplomatic transcription where everything on the manuscript is recorded. Copy and paste the text into a word-processor. Now, using the methods outlined in ‘Diplomatic Transcripts’ and ‘Example Edition’ work through the other manuscripts – starting with MS A – and record down any things that are different (‘variants’). Think of the following questions: 

Does any of it make you question your choice of base manuscript?

Piecing it together can you suggest an order in which the manuscripts were written?

What does it tell you about the poet and how they wrote a poem, how much thought they put into words and phrases?

What did they change and why?

When you are finished working through all the manuscripts and recording the variants you will have created your own edition of this famous poem! You can then select ‘Stage IV: Compare to published edition’ below.’

 

Diplomatic Transcription

In the transcripts below we have tried to remain as faithful to what you will see as possible, this is termed a 'diplomatic' transcription. Some notation which you may not be familiar with.

[..] indicates that something has been deleted \ .. / indicates that something has been inserted or written over an original text (a palimpsest) \...\ indicates a marginal insertion to the left, and /... / to the right // indicates a page break. e.g. p[?]\a/in[?]\ed/ - means a letter 'p' followed by something crossed out which is unclear (hence the ?), over which an 'a' is written, followed again by an unclear deletion, over which 'ed' is inserted.

Your task is to check through the transcription of the base manuscript, and tidy it up as you think would best suit your edition. You may want to alter the punctuation; you may want to remove any text which you think is superfluous to the poem itself. Once you have done this at the bottom of your edition you will need to record the variants in the other manuscripts (i.e. the two you have not chosen for your base text).

 

Example Edition

To illustrate how you would do this let us choose the first two lines of a nursery rhyme which hypothetically only survives in three manuscripts (X, Y, and Z)

Manuscript X
Mary had a little lamb
Its fleece was white as snow
Manuscript Y
Mary had a small lamb
Its fleece was white as ice
Manuscript Z
Mary hid a little lamb
Its fleece was white as ice

Let us assume that we have looked at all the manuscripts and concluded that MS X will be our base manuscript. We then need to collate the variants held in Y and Z. In theory our sample edition could look like:

Mary had a little lamb
Its fleece was white as snow
Variants: Line 1 - had] hid, MS Z; little] small, MS Y. Line 2 - snow] ice, MSS Y and Z.

To read this we could say 'Mary had a little lamb' is our accepted text but we have noticed the following variants: On line 1, the base manuscript has 'had' (indicated by being to the left of the ']') whilst Manuscript Z has 'hid'. Furthermore, on line 2 the base manuscript has 'snow' whilst both Y and Z have 'ice'.

In other words, we have the base text at the top of the page and we list the variants in the other manuscripts at the bottom. The system of noting variants via ']' is not set in stone, and many editors may employ a different practice. However, the important rules to note are:

Note all variants that you think are of significance Be consistent with your notation schemeExplain your editorial method, e.g. 'The base manuscript is X.'

Variants from other witnesses are noted at the bottom of the page, with the word in the body text placed to the left of ']' and the variant(s) to the right.

 

Browse Transcripts of the Owen Manuscripts

 
Compare the diplomatic transcript to the manuscript.

Dulce et Decorum est.

[To a certain Poetess]

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the clawing flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge,
Dragging the worst amongst us, who'd no boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped five-nines that dropped behind.

Then somewhere near in front: Whew... fup... fop... fup...
Gas shells or duds? We loosened masks in case -
And listened... Nothing... Far rummouring of Krupp...
Then smartly, poison hit us in the face.
Gas! GAS! Quick boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets, just in time.
But someone still was yelling out, and stumbling,
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.

Dim, through the misty panes and heavy light,
As under a dark sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight
He lunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

In all your dreams if you could slowly pace
Behind the limber that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes turning in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's dead of sin;
If you could hear at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling thick and frothy from the lung;
And think how once his face was like a bud,
Fresh as a country rose, and keen, and young,
You'd not go telling with such noble zest,
To small boys, ardent for some desperate glory,
The old lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Wilfred Owen



 

         

Dulce et Decorum est.

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas shells dropping softly that dropped behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in of some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, -
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest,
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

 

Dulce et Decorum Est
(To Jessie Pope etc.)

Bent, like old rag & bone men under sacks;
Knock-kneed; coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge.
Till on the glimmering flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Halting each mile, for some had lost their boots,
And limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.

Then somewhere near in front: Whew, fup, fop, fup -
Gas-shells or duds? We loosened masks in case -
And listened... Nothing... Far guns grumbled Krupp -
Then smartly Poison hit us in the face.
Gas! GAS! An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time.
But someone still was yelling out, and stumbling,
And floundring like a man in fire or lime.
There, through the misty panes and dim green light,
As under a thick sea, I saw him drowning...

I must not speak of this thing as I might.
In all my dreams I hear him choking, drowning.
In all your dreams if you could slowly pace
Behind the wagon that we laid him in,
And watch the white eyes turning in his face,
His hanging face, tortured for your own sin, -
If you could see, at every jolt, the blood
Come belching black and frothy from the lung,
And think how once his face was like a bud,
Fresh as a country rose, and clear, and young,
You would not go on telling with such zest,
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Oct. 8. 1917



 
Compare the diplomatic transcript to the manuscript.

 

Dulce et Decorum est.

To a certain Poetess.

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Dead slow we moved. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of five-nines that dropped behind.

Then somewhere near in front: Whew... fup... fop... fup...
Gas-shells or duds? We loosened masks, in case -
And listened... Nothing... Far rumouring of Krupp;..
Then stinging poison hit us in the face.
Gas! GAS! - Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time.
But someone still was yelling out, and stumbling,
And floundering like a man in fire or lime. -
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a dark sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He lunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

In all your sobbing? dreams, when you must pace
Behind the limber that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes turning in his face
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin
If you can hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling black and frothy from the lung,
And think how, once, his face was like a bud,
Fresh as a country rose, and clean, and young, -
You'll not repeat with such a noble zest
To small boys ardent for some desperate glory,
The gesturing lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.



 

 

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