The Figure of the Youth as Virile Poet

i.e., as a figure of capable imagination. This is Mazeppa, the mythical figure.

"To define poetry as an unofficial view of being places it in contrast with philosophy and at the same time establishes the relationship between the two. In philosophy we attempt to approach truth through the reason. Obviously this is a statement of convenience. If we say that in poetry we attempt to approach truth through the imagination, this, too, is a statement of convenience. We must conceive of poetry as at least the equal of philosophy. If truth is the object of both and if any considerable number of people feel very sceptical of all philosophers, then, to be brief about it, a still more considerable number of people must feel very sceptical of all poets..." Wallace Stevens, The Necessary Angel, New York: Vintage Books (1951), pp. 41-42.

Even so,

"... what concerns us in poetry, as in everything else, is the belief of credible people in credible things. It follows that poetic truth is the truth of credible things, not so much that it is actually so, as that it must be so. It is toward that alone that it is possible for the intelligence to move." Wallace Stevens, The Necessary Angel, New York: Vintage Books (1951), p. 53.

Ivan Mazepa, the historical figure, is a matter of interest to those who wish to know something about the history of the Ukraine.

Mazeppa, the mythical figure, is a matter of interest to those who wish to know something about themselves as figures of capable imagination: as human beings whose suffering is not a matter of indifference, but of epic struggle against seemingly insurmountable odds.

Mazeppa's "wild ride" may not have been an event in the life of Ivan Mazepa, as such; it is, however, an event in the life of every human being who loves and finds herself torn from her love despite all of her struggles to hang on.

When R. W. Emerson notes in his journal at the death of his little son Waldo: "I am Defeated all the time; yet to Victory I am born," he is Mazeppa, regaining consciousness in a Cossack's hut, battered and beaten but still alive and, against all odds, on the mend.

"...poetic truth is the truth of credible things, not so much that it is actually so, as that it must be so. It is toward that alone that it is possible for the intelligence to move."