Xanadu

This is related to this other investigation into a Romantic poem

I used Midjourney to generate visualizations of Coleridge's Xanadu. I particularly liked the solution this one came up with for representing a "sunless sea":

I presume that it came up with the bright circle early in the generation process as a moon, and then had to figure out a way to work it into the image-- similar to those spiral illusions, but occurring naturally in the generation process.

It got me thinking about what Coleridge was reading. I had read his account, where he provides a remembered quote from Purchas, His Pilgrimes:

'Here the Khan Kubla commanded a palace to be built, and a stately garden thereunto. And thus ten miles of fertile ground were inclosed with a wall.'

But that's just Coleridge's recollection. What does the book (published in 1625, so the spelling is a bit archaic) actually say? Here are the relevant quotes:

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In Xamdu did Cublai Can build a stately Palace, encompassing sixteen miles of plaine ground with a wall, wherein are fertile Meddowes, pleasant springs, delightfull Streames, and all sorts of beasts of chase and game, and in the middest thereof a sumptuous house of pleasure, which may be removed from place to place.

So the "pleasure dome" is probably some kind of yurt. A lot more of the poem actually comes from here than Coleridge recalled, huh?

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This bit is about ancient voices foretelling war:

When he is dead, if he be a chiefe man, hee is buried in the field where pleaseth him. And hee is buried with his Tent, sitting in the middest thereof, with a Table set before him, and a platter full of meate, and a Cup of Mares-milke. There is also buried with him a Mare and a Colt, a Horse with bridle and saddle: and they eate another Horse…stuffing his hide with straw, setting it aloft on two or foure poles, that hee may have in the other world a Tabernacle and other things fitting for this use.

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Their Priests were diviners: they were many, but had one Captaine or chiefe Bishop, who always placed his house or Tent before that of the Great Can, about a stones cast distant….When an Eclipse happens they sound their Organs and Timbrels, and make a great noyse….They foretell holy dayes, and those which are unluckie for enterprises. No warres are begunne or made without their word.

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There is also some similarity to the account (which I remembered from Marco Polo) of the leader of the Assassins, the Old Man of the Mountain (who you may know as the Batman villain Ra's al Ghul). 

Old Man of the Mountain: His name was Aloadine, and was a Mahumetan.

Hee had in a goodly Valley betwixt two Mountaynes very high, made a goodly Garden, furnished with the best trees and fruits he could find, adorned with divers Palaces and houses of pleasure, beautified with gold Workes, Pictures, and Furnitures of silke.

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There by divers Pipes answering divers parts of those Palaces were seene to runne Wine, Milke, Honey, and cleere Water. In them hee had placed goodly Damosels skilfull in Songs and Instruments of Musicke and Dancing, and to make Sports and Delights unto men whatsoever they could imagine. They were also fairely attired in Gold and Silke, and were seene to goe continually sporting in the Garden and Palaces. He made this Palace, because Mahomet had promised such a sensuall Paradise to his devout followers…

Aloadine had certaine Youthes from twelve to twentie yeares of age, such as seemed of a bold and undoubted disposition, whom hee instructed daily touching Mahomets Paradise, and how hee could bring men thither. And when he thought good, he caused a certaine Drinke to bee given unto ten or twelve of them, which cast them in a dead sleepe: and then hee caused them to be carried into divers Chambers of the said Palaces, where they saw the things aforesaid as soone as they awaked: each of them having those Damosels to minister Meates and excellent Drinkes, and all varieties of pleasures to them; insomuch that the Fooles thought themselves in Paradise indeed. When they had enjoyed those pleasures foure or five dayes, they were againe cast in a sleepe, and carried forth againe. After which, he…questioned where they had beene, which answered, by your Grace, in paradise….Then the old man answered, This is the commandement of our Prophet, that whosoever defends is Lord, he make him enter Paradise: and if thou wilt bee obedient to mee, thou shalt have this grace. And having thus animated them, hee was thought happie whom the old man would command, though it cost him his life: so that other Lords and his Enemies were slaine by these his Assasines, which exposed themselves to all dangers, and contemned their lives.

All of this comes from a book called The Road to Xanadu (link to pdf of the whole book), by John Livingston Lowes (perhaps related to that seagull's road to Nirvana?). Published in 1926, it's a deep investigation into a particular act of creativity and how it happened. Coleridge had a theory of creativity of his own-- C.S. Lewis happened to be reading that book it is in when he was annoyed by a vapid guest. (Lewis is most readable when he has the spirit of Screwtape urging him on a bit.)

We have a visitor at present, a Miss Whitty, a music teacher of Maureen’s at Bristol, who is one of Minto’s lame ducks. ‘Sir, he is poor, he is miserable, and that is recommendation enough to Johnson’. But while ill health, poverty and overwork may justify her presence in Hillsboro, they can hardly justify her appearance in this letter. I cite her because she clears up a problem. You must have wondered very often for what public illuminated texts of Kipling’s ‘If’, calendars with a thought for every day, mottoes in crackers, Easter cards, etc., etc., etc. were produced. Now I know. To Miss W. these are food and drink. It is most embarrassing. She is really struck by a ‘Thought for the week’ in the Sunday Pictorial and will read it out. You know how those things are, even when you glance at them in turning over the pages of the paper. But you can have no conception what they sound like if actually pronounced during a pause at the breakfast table. There are things extant in print which, one took it for granted, had never, would never reach the viva voce level of existance. I will inflict one only on you–and am rather chary about it even on paper, well impounded in inverted commas. ‘No one is utterly useless in this world who helps to lighten another’s burden’. We needn’t bother about ‘in this world’: they all take care to tell you that they refer to ‘this world’ or ‘this life’. It gives a sort of atmosphere. But just look at the rest. To lighten someone’s burden can only mean to do him a service, which again can only mean to be useful to him. So that the gem precisely informs us that if you’re any use you can’t be useless. The length of the oscillation my mind performs–from the extreme of subtlety, reading Coleridge’s Biographia Literaria till the lunch bell goes–to the extreme of platitude when I reach the table!

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I hadn't realized that there are actually ruins of Xanadu that you can go visit.

You can read more about this here: https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/1389/ It's called Shangdu in a different anglicization.

Here are some more Xanadu images by Midjourney

I could get it to generate something with more gravitas but I feel like fantasy cover illustrators have carried the torch passed down by Romantic artists like Caspar David Friedrich and orientalists like Jean Leon Gerome. Notice how the reflection of the central shrine isn't quite right. It kind of emphasizes the fact that it's gotten the rest of the light physics close to right. Having written a ray-tracer, that is still pretty amazing to me. 

In this one I like how we're inside one of the measureless caverns, looking out at the palace.