It's that age-old story: boy meets boy; boy loses boy; boy endlessly ruminates on the nature of loss and grief with some meditations on evolution and religion thrown in just for kicks.

It may sound a bit strange, but that's exactly what's going on in In Memoriam. Alfred, Lord Tennyson (which we should think of as both the "for-reals" Tennyson of the Victorian period, but also as the fictionalized speaker of the poem) wallows in his grief over losing his dear friend Arthur, who has died of a brain hemorrhage at the tragically young age of 22.

While doing so, he falls into a sort of existential crisis in which he contemplates man's place in the vast universe, which is created by either God, or maybe a more uncaring, cold Nature. Of course, that's understandable. Tennyson's also responding to some pretty heavy-duty cultural upheavals of his time, like the newly-circulating Theory of Evolution (thanks, Darwin) and the rise of industrialism.

In Memoriam, which was first published anonymously in 1850, is considered one of the greatest poems of the nineteenth century (and probably one of the greatest poems ever), by one of the greatest poets of the English language: Alfred, Lord Tennyson. When they start handing out titles like "Lord," we know they're not playing around. Lest you doubt Al's street cred as a wordsmith, he was named Poet Laureate of England right after Wordsworth, so his stuff's the real deal. Don't take our word for it, though, Shmoopers. Read on…

We know that you're thinking, Shmoopers. What could a Victorian English poet possibly have to say to you, right? Well, you just might be surprised…

See, everyone will eventually suffer the same kind of loss that Alfred, Lord Tennyson does with his friend. Whether you lose a best friend, a parent, a child, a significant other, or a beloved pet, part of being human means coming to terms with grief.

It also means making some kind of meaning out of it and then having to navigate a world that can oftentimes feel cold and random. So these thoughts aren't just reserved for your emo friend who goes heavy with the guyliner. This is the stuff of legit philosophers and poets, and it digs right down into the real meat of what it means to be human.