Love's Labour's Lost

I always find the more modern poems to be especially interesting to analyze. It is simply expected that students will have to interpret poems with older diction and more sophisticated style; it is less expected by the students, however, to have to analyze the literary merits of a poem that uses modern diction and topic matter. In Cleopatra Mathis' "Getting Out," the speaker reflects upon the very real and very modern occurrence of a marriage gone wrong. The speaker hints that the couple's marriage simply fell apart; there is no bitterness in her tone, nor is there much of an explanation as to what caused the decline of the relationship. The only clue lies in the first stanza, where the speaker describes "another refusal, the silent work/ of tightening the heart./ Exhausted we gave up". The speaker indicates that some connection was broken between the couple, though the cause is never clearly stated.

The rest of the poem, however, does not focus on the cause of the fallout, but only focuses on the sorrow and grief that results from the fallout. According to the speaker, the fallout is mutual. Even as the couple is separated for good, the speaker and their spouse is described as "Taking hands/ [walking] apart, until [their] arms stretched/ between [them]. [They] held on tight, and let go." This mutual act is reluctant and sad, yet agreed upon as necessary. The speaker's intent of this poem, therefore, is not to express regret or bitterness toward her failed relationship, but rather to express sorrow that the relationship failed in the first place.

I'm on a Boat

I am impressed by Alfred, Lord Tennyson's attitude toward death in "Crossing the Bar". The speaker of the poem describes death as an extremely peaceful and serene event, akin to a boat being "put out to sea". The speaker seeks "no moaning" and "no sadness of farewell when [he] embark[s]" in death. In the speaker's opinion, death is not a depressing occasion, but rather is a gentle, pleasant event. The speaker's reason for his happy acceptance of death is explained near the end of the poem: when the speaker dies, he "hope[s] to see [his] Pilot"--i.e., God--"face to face". This unwavering belief in life after death is rather astounding. It is quite easy to simply say that one believes in life after death; it is quite another to believe in it so firmly as to write an entire poem--complete with extended metaphor--about life after death. More than anything, Tennyson's faith struck me the most in this poem; his faith is an excellent example to those, including myself, who struggle at times to accept those ideas which are difficult to logically believe.

My Black-Wired Love (Question 8)

I think Shakespeare's "My mistress' eyes" is my favorite poem in this unit. Shakespeare's tone seems rather harsh and critical at first, yet it progresses into a tone of realistic yet loving sincerity. At first glance, however, this tone is not evident. After all, the first twelve lines contain several comparisons of the speaker's mistress' traits with things of beauty with the intent of stating that his lover's traits are inferior. Her eyes "are nothing like the sun", her hair is described as "black wires", and she is clearly described as not "a goddess". These statements and others directly oppose those statements usually used by poets to describe lovers or beauty. By doing this, the speaker points out the naiveté of making such exaggerated comparisons. At the end of the poem, the speaker's tone becomes less skeptical and more loving toward his mistress. Upon admitting his lover's humanity, the speaker affirms that his love for her is "as rare/ As any she belied with false compare." Instead of heaping false compliments upon his mistress, the speaker admits her imperfections and chooses to simply state that is love is as strong as any other love that requires such false compliments to survive. In comparison to the falsity of the others' love, the speaker's loving sincerity carries far more power because of its honesty.

Carpe Diem (Question 6)

Andrew Marvell's "To His Coy Mistress" is a rather odd and aggressive poem. In it, the speaker is urging his lover to abandon her "long-preserved virginity" and give in to her carnal desires. Yet the central purpose of the poem is not, in fact, to encourage sexual freedom. The speaker's logic applies not only to sexual activity, but life activity in general. The speaker urges his lover to act in the present, "while the youthful hue/ Sits on thy skin like morning dew,/ And while thy willing soul transpires/ At every pore with instant fires". The focus of the poem is not on the act of sexual intercourse, but on the fact that life is short, with "[t]ime's winged chariot hurrying near". By focusing on the lack of time that humans have in life, the poet indicates that his point is not a statement on morality, as the context of the poem indicates. Instead, the point makes his point that life is too short to live timidly. According to the poet, one must live life as fully as one can at every moment, for one never knows how long their life will last.

Identity Crisis

I think M. Carl Holman's "Mr. Z" is a rather powerful reflection of most African-Americans' struggle to maintain an identity that they can take pride in, especially those who lived during the Civil Rights Era. It is clear that the man in the poem--presumably, Mr. Z--is African-American: his mother's skin (color) is described as "the sign of error" (1), and he works hard to become completely "Anglo-Saxonized" (8). Mr. Z appears to have been an extremely successful man in life, with "not one false note...struck" (23). Yet along the way, Mr. Z lost an extremely important part of him: his cultural identity. He "disclaimed kinship with jazz and spirituals" (4), two types of music distinctly identified with African-American culture. He "firmly seized/ Whatever ground was Anglo-Saxonized" (7-8), deliberately rejecting any opinion that could be indicative of African-Americans. He even refuses to acknowledge the African-American struggle for equality, instead "choosing the the right addresses...[and] shunn[ing] those places where [he] might be barred" (17-18). Even mingling with those of his race seems to be too much of a social risk for Mr. Z.

In the end, however, the speaker leaves the audience with an ironic closing comment. After Mr. Z dies, his widow is perceived as savagely wrathful toward those who wrote his obituary (as line 24 indicates, she "could have flayed" them). Why? It is because they described Mr. Z as "'One of the most distinguished members of his race'" (26). Now, there are two possible interpretations of the widow's reaction and of its implications that I see. It is possible that the irony lies in the fact that Mr. Z is attributed to the African-American race, when in all actuality, he did everything in his power to avoid connection to that race. More likely, though, the widow's angry reaction simply emphasizes the intent of the last line of the poem. This intent is to state that no matter how hard one attempts to hide an aspect of one's identity, that aspect does not fade. Mr. Z attempted all of his life to avoid being labeled African-American, yet in the end, he is immediately classified as of that race. I think his widow's angry reaction simply stresses the foolishness of such endeavors. Most people would consider being named one of the most distinguished people of one's race as an unimaginably incredible honor. Yet Mr. Z's widow only sees the qualifier "of his race" (26) instead of seeing the honor. Like so many of us, instead of focusing on his talents and embracing his identity, Mr. Z attempted to hide a significant part of him. Yet as is always the case, he could not hide who he was. He simply either could have accepted his identity, embrace it, and use it as a tool to bring about both personal and social success, or he could have futilely tried to kick it under the rug. Obviously, Mr. Z foolishly chose the latter.

Yet could you choose the former and truly and wholeheartedly accept who you are?

I doubt it.

You and What Empire? (Question 13)

Percy Bysshe Shelley's "Ozymandias" is an excellently witty example of situational irony. The main source of this irony occurs in the juxtaposition of the image of Ozymandias' powerful proclamation of power and of the image of the of a ruined building or civilization. The irony is initially unclear, as the speaker begins by giving a description of the location of the ruins, which consist only of "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone/ Stand[ing] in the desert" (2-3) and "a shattered visage" (4) of stone. We then start to learn of what kind of man Ozymandias really was, as his sculptor carved him with a "frown,/ and wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command" (4-5). This image continues to form with the arrogant proclamation by Ozymandias that he is the "'king of kings;/ Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'" (10-11). These lines make it clear that Ozymandias was extremely arrogant, self-inclined, and obsessed with luxury.

Yet immediately after this, the speaker describes not a wonderful civilization, or even the remnants of a wonderful civilization, but the ruins of a civilization of "decay" where "nothing beside remains" (12). Instead of a grand and luxurious empire, all that remains are two pillars and a sculpted head. Ozymandias' selfish arrogance, like any man's arrogance, was all for naught. This irony proves that luxury and materials, like life, is fleeting.

A Distorted Mirror (Question 8)

Marge Piercy's "Barbie Doll" bears a rather bitterly harsh tone. Each stanza of this poem serves to express this mood in parallel manners. In the first and second stanzas, the general pattern progress from positive to negative points. At first, the girl in the poem experiences happiness, with "dolls that did pee-pee" (2), "miniature GE stoves and irons" (3), and "lipsticks of the color of cherry candy" (4), all items which convey an image of girlish joy. But then that joy is cut short: "A classmate said:/ You have a great big nose and fat legs" (5-6). In that instant, the tone sours. The second stanza also follows this pattern. The speaker presents several wonderful characteristics of the "healthy, tested intelligent" (7) girl. Yet at the end, the speaker again brushes these qualities aside: "Everyone saw a fat nose on thick legs" (11). The third stanza offers a brief change in pattern from the other three stanzas, but this stanza contains solely a bitter-sounding description of the society's pressure on the girl to change herself, culminating in "her good nature" (15) wearing out.

The final stanza offers an interesting change: this time, the negative is expressed first, followed by the positive. The speaker utilizes overstatement to emphasize the girl's change within and without. The speaker even goes so far as to imply that the girl's old self died, replaced with a girl "with the undertaker's cosmetics painted on,/ a turned-up putty nose,/ dressed in a pink and white nightie" (20-22). The event described as horribly depressing. Instead of describing it as depressing however, the speaker recounts the reaction of society: not a reaction of horror, but one of elation at the woman's "happy ending" (25). The tone is powerfully underscored in the final line of the poem: "To every woman a happy ending" (25). This bitterly ironic statement reflects on the supposed happiness that society makes people believe they feel when they kowtow to everyone's perception. With that final sentence, the speaker seems to be expressing the sentiment that the effect of societal pressure is terrible, but it is also unstoppable.

Going Bonkers...

Perrine clearly likes Emily Dickinson's poetry, as he has included three of her poems within the last sixty pages. Luckily, I also enjoy her poetry. For me, "Much Madness is divinest Sense" was the most difficult to immediately understand. However, that seems to be Dickinson's intention: she wishes us to feel confusion because the truth which she is telling is, in fact, a jumbled and nonsensical one. Her repetition of "Madness" and "Sense" (1, 3) in reverse syntax at first perplex the audience. How can madness be sense, and sense be madness?

Line 4, however, reveals the reason for this paradox. "'Tis the majority/ In this," (4-5) the speaker explains, that creates this discombobulation. The following lines continue by reflecting on society's stubborn tendency to accept one ideology and path to success and happiness and to shun all those who move against the grain. What is viewed as madness to society--to question or doubt the accepted in order to think for oneself--is, according to the speaker, common sense, and what makes sense to society--to blindly and mindlessly agree with society--is true madness. This seems especially prevalent in today's world, where people are often so stubborn-minded and blindly obedient that they are unable to actually think for themselves. Though Dickinson likely was finding objection in her 19th-century world, there is no doubt she would think the same of this 21st-century society in which we live.

This Is a Weird One, Alright...

Margaret Atwood's "February" definitely takes a dive off the deep end in terms of her subject matter. Atwood definitely seems to bear a rather pessimistic view of life, or at least of February, the "time to eat fat/ and watch hockey" (1-2). She states her belief that some people "should snip a few [of their own] testicles" (16). She then follows with her belief that the only thing stopping from mankind from doing the "sensible" (17) act of population control is the "love that does us in" (19). Whereas most people view love as a positive and wholesome emotion, Atwood views love as a roadblock, and obstacle to mankind.

At first, the reader feels rather confused by Atwood's pessimism, particularly her dislike of love. Yet we soon discover the true reason for Atwood's pessimism: it is Valentine's Day, and Atwood is alone: "February, month of despair,/ with a skewered heart in the centre./ I think dire thoughts" (25-27). Atwood's poem actually consists of her rather wandering stream of consciousness as she wallows in self-pity and defiance against the world. At the end, however, Atwood changes her tune. In an apostrophe to her cat which doubles as a self-address, Atwood tells herself to "Get rid of death. Celebrate increase. Make it be spring" (34). By the end, Atwood's self-pity and moping is gone. She has finally decided to move on with her life.

Considering her thoughts when she does not move on, I think her decision is most definitely for the better.

Figuratively Speaking (Question 11)

Hughes' "Dream Deferred" is almost entirely a series of consecutive analogies. After asking the rhetorical question, "What happens to a dream deferred?" (1), Hughes then proceeds to list the possible consequences of putting off a dream in the form of four similes and a metaphor. In each simile, Hughes opens with an active verb--"dry" (2), "fester" (4), "stink" (6), "crust and sugar" (8), and "sags" (10). He then follows with the analogical portion of the simile, comparing the deferred dream to "a raisin in the sun" (3), "a sore" (5), "rotten meat" (7), "a syrupy sweet" (9), and "a heavy load" (11), respectively. At the end, however, Hughes employs an implicit metaphor: "Or does it explode?" (11). In most cases, metaphors tend to carry more power than similes due to the subtler comparison; because the analogy is less obvious, the comparison is cleverer and therefore more effective. An implied metaphor bears even more power: not only is the word of analogy (such as like) absent; the object to which the dream is being compared is also absent, making the metaphor even subtler and more powerful. By ending with a sophisticated implied metaphor after a series of simple similes, Hughes indicates that the last result of a deferred dream is the result which Hughes believes will happen. Instead of coming out and stating his belief, Hughes subtly makes it known.

Oh, the Irony (Question 13)

Elizabeth Bishop's "Pink Dog" is a rather strange poem (if "February" wasn't in this unit, I would have called it the strangest in this unit). At the outset, it appears that the speaker is addressing a hairless dog which lives in the street. The audience feels some sympathy because "the passersby draw back and stare" (6) at the dog, yet they are also rather repulsed by the dog's "naked and pink" (5) appearance. By line 11 or 12, though, it becomes evident that the subject is, in fact, a female beggar: "poor bitch,/ while you go begging, living by your wits?/ Didn't you know? It's been in all the papers,/ to solve this problem, how they deal with beggars?" (11-14) It is at this point that the poem starts to fill with verbal irony. Bishop continues to describe the beggars as "sick, four-legged dogs" (21) and provides a "practical [and] sensible/ solution" (27-28) to the beggars' current state: society should simply cover the beggars' poverty and ignore their plight. After all, "Tonight [the beggars] simply can't afford to be a-/n eyesore" (29-30). The speaker then orders the beggars to "Dress up! Dress up and dance at Carnival" (39). After describing the terrible plight of the beggars and expressing sympathy for them, however, it is clear that Bishop does not actually believe the solution which she proposes is a wise one. Yet by using verbal irony to make her point instead of simply expressing her opinion, Bishop takes a Swiftian approach and shocks readers into accepting her opinion. Instead of browbeating the audience with her opinion, Bishop subtly and effectively proves her belief.

Drunk on the Earth

Once again, Dickinson's poem is my favorite. I find Dickinson's volte-face from "I felt a Funeral, in my Brain" to "I taste a liquor never brewed" particularly interesting. The emotional tones of the two poems are startlingly different. Whereas "Funeral" is gravely serious and rather morbid, "Liquor" is nearly the exact opposite, stating her joy and euphoric reaction to the beauty of nature. I think the aspect of Dickinson's writing which I enjoy the most is its uniqueness. In "Funeral," the unique aspects were the use of solely auditory imagery and the unique perspective of the speaker. In "Liquor," Dickinson creates a rather unique analogy between the effects of the beauty of nature and of alcohol. The speaker describes herself as "Inebriate of Air" (5) and "Debauchee of Dew" (6). Bees are drunken, and Butterflies give up the alcohol of nature, while the speaker says the she "shall but drink the more" (12). This unique description of the speaker's love of nature is a rather fresh change from the gentle imagery of other nature poems. The speaker does not simply appreciate nature; she wants to lose herself within its beauty.

"Form"al Poetry (Question 17)

Before I begin to delve into the form of Keats' "Bright Star," I should state that I discovered most of the information from a site by Nelson Miller of the Cayuse Press Writers Exchange Board.

Anyway, Keats' poem is a rather typical example of an English (or Shakespearean) sonnet. All sonnets consist of fourteen lines, divided into an octet which presents one idea and a sestet which presents a different, often contrasting, idea. Really, the aspect of the Keats' poem which identifies it as English is its rhyme pattern. Keats' poem follows the English pattern of a b a b c d c d e f e f g g, meaning it can be subdivided into three quatrains with alternating lines rhyming and a final couplet. In Keats' poem, the first quatrain serves the purpose of describing the "bright star" (1) and its position and purpose in the sky. He describes the star as "steadfast" (1) in the sky, alone in "splendor" (2), simply "watching" (3). The second quatrain describes what the star observes, which also indicates the star's loneliness and distance from the beauty far below. Together, this octet depicts the aspects of the star which Keats does not desire to have: he does not want to be alone and unattached. In the sestet following the octet, Keats performs a turn and describes the aspect of the star which he does desire: Keats wishes to "feel forever [the] soft fall and swell" (11) of his lover, to stay "steadfast" with his love. Keats closes his statement of desire with a final couplet that states he wants to either "live ever" with his lover or else die at the peak of his love-to "swoon to death" (14). Overall, the division of the sonnet into the octet and sestet serves as a well-established boundary between what Keats desires and what he does not.

Off to London

I view William Blake's "London" as a pretty powerful political criticism of the British government of his time. Without actually stating his intent, or even mention the government, Blake seriously criticizes his government and reflects on the fear and misery that it has caused. In the first two lines, the speaker describes the streets and river which he walks by as "chartered" (1, 2), which the side note explains as being "defined by law". By simply stating the fact that the streets and Thames are defined by law, Blake immediately triggers in the reader and image of a tyrannical government that feels that it must control all within its domain, even the river. He then continues on and describes "in every face [he] meet[s]/ Marks of weakness, marks of woe" (3-4). By progressing from the government's control immediately to the people's misery, Blake draws a connection between the two existences.

He then expands his description of the people's misery, explaining that every citizen suffers from "The mind-forged manacles" (8) he wears as a result of the government's actions. Blake continues on in the last two stanzas to describe the losses and suffering of the workers and subjects of both the "black'ning Church" (10) and the "Palace" (12), or monarchy, and then describes the effect on morality that the Church and State's actions have had: "How the youthful Harlot's curse/ Blasts the new-born Infant's tear,/ And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse" (14-16). Blake saves his most powerful verbs for the final stanza, revealing his thought that the government's actions have caused the people to become not only dispirited but also dehumanized. Although he does not state it aloud, Blake's message is clear: his government is no more nor less than a tyranny.

For Whom the Bells Toll (Wait, Wrong Literature...)

I must admit, Dickinson's "I felt a Funeral, in my Brain" was my favorite poem of the eight selections for this week. I personally find her auditory imagery far more powerful than most visual imagery. Several poets will describe events with colors, or personify nature to give it more life, or create other visual images that evoke either wonderful or terrible feelings. However, it seems that a startling majority of poets rely solely on visual imagery. After a time, this repetition often causes visual imagery to lose its potential power. Using virtually exclusively auditory imagery, however, Dickinson creates a powerful, booming cascade of images that are so unique and startlingly original that they not only attract the reader's attention, but demand it. A poet simply cannot write a description of "a Drum--/Kept beating--beating--till I thought/ My Mind was going numb--" (5-7) and not intend that it carry a substantial amount of power. Dickinson takes these concepts and images that are usually visual, such as space and heavens, and creates a completely original association with them as describing them as beginning to "toll" (12) and as being a "Bell" (13), respectively. To me, that is where Dickinson's true power in her poetry lies: in her ability to take a known and accepted idea or image and convolute it into a startling and powerful creation.

Mad World (Question 10)

In "I felt a Funeral, in my Brain," Emily Dickinson utilizes powerfully vivid and unique imagery. In describing the funeral, Dickinson almost exclusively appeals to the sense of hearing. The speaker hears the service as "like a Drum--/Kept beating--beating" (5-6). She hears "them lift a Box" (9)--that is, her casket--rather than feeling it being lifted, and she hears the pallbearers "creak across [her] Soul" (10). Space "tolls" (12), "the Heavens were a Bell" (13), and she is simply "but an Ear" (14), with "Silence" as "some strange Race" (15). These strong, thunderous sounds and descriptions evoke a sense of entrapment and despair. The lack of sensations other than hearing also reflect the speaker's feeling of mental and/or emotional death, extending the image of the funeral in her brain. In the dark of night, it is not only the lack of vision that frightens many; it is the enhanced sense of hearing that truly spooks. By relying nearly solely on this sense, Dickinson writes into her poem a sense of fear, despair, and utter hopelessness.

This Poem Is Sad (Question 8)

William Carlos Williams' "The Widow's Lament in Springtime" carries a tone of, well, lament (surprise, surprise). Throughout the poem, the speaker's descriptions reflect a deep feeling of regret and sorrow. The poem even begins with the line "Sorrow is my own yard" (1): the place that is closest to her is filled with sorrow, and she goes on to describe a "cold fire/ that closes round me this year" (5-6). It is then that we learn that her husband's death is the source of the widow's grief. It is interesting to notice her style in describing two different aspects of her yard: the grass that contains the "cold fire" (5), and the tree that is described as filled with color. Yet even when the speaker does describe the colors of the tree, the description is rather vague: instead of specifics, she simply states that the flowers "color some bushes/ yellow and some red" (13-14). She does not go into great detail, as she did in describing the flaming grass, but chooses to describe the symbol of happiness in the yard as vague and murky, giving the reason that "the grief in [her] heart/ is stronger than they/ for though they were [her] joy/ formerly, today [she] notice[s] them/ and turned away forgetting" (15-19). She is filled with such grief and sorrow that she forces herself to try to forget the memories of her past with her husband, as she cannot move on while remembering. Overall, the speaker seems bogged down with sorrow and mourning for the death of her husband, and this tone is vividly reflected in the speaker's diction.

Lovely Letters (Question 15)

Gerard Manley Hopkins' "Spring" is rather rife with alliteration. He describes "weeds, in wheels" that "shoot long and lovely and lush" (2). He depicts eggs that "look little low heavens" (3) and "thrush through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring" (4) and strikes "like lightnings" (5). The "descending blue" of the sky is described as "in a rush/ With richness" (7-8), and clouds that "have fair their fling" (8). He describes spring as "juice" and "joy" (9), and he prays that God does not let childhood "sour with sinning" (12) because innocent children are "worthy the winning" (14). Clearly, Hopkins is a big fan of alliteration. Yet this alliteration serves a purpose. Alliteration carries significance because it rolls off the tongue with ease. Alliteration conveys a sense of ease and tranquility, especially with softer consonants, such as l, r, w, and f, all of which Hopkins uses. This sense of ease and peace suits Hopkins' description of the tranquility and beauty of spring. By using alliteration, Hopkins creates a poem that carries the same sentiment as the subject of his poem.

Perrine's Poetry? Preposterous!

To be honest, I have never been a big fan of poetry. While they are usually short reads, their brevity often deceptively conceals their depth. The frustrating part of studying poetry is it seems too often that my friends and I will have about five different interpretations of the poems, and after arguing and debating amongst each other, we will then be told by the teacher that they are all, in fact, valid. I am alright with several valid interpretations existing. What exacerbates, though, is the fact that there commonly seems to be no end to the number of different valid interpretations of a poem. Often in English classes of the past, if you could argue your interpretation, and it sounded at least half-good, then the teacher decided it was not worth arguing and would deem it a satisfactory interpretation. In other cases, the opposite was true: any interpretation that was not an exact replica of the teacher's, no matter how well-supported, was struck down. Because of this, I found myself agreeing with Perrine's discussion of "correct" interpretations of poetry and his approach. Perrine's approach of logically analyzing an analysis was a much-appreciated guideline for interpreting poetry. At last, we have a method that makes sense!

Of course, now that I have a legitimate guideline for interpreting poetry, I have realized just how poor my interpreting skills are. Among the three poems (or sets of poems) that we read, I correctly interpreted "The Rose and the Worm." That was it. My interpretations of the other two were grossly off the mark. In both of my analyses, I took a far too literal approach. In Dickinson's poem, I used the little knowledge I had of Dickinson and her reclusive lifestyle and assumed that the poem had a melancholy feel. Because of this, I think I twisted the poem to fit my idea that the poem must be a reflection of the futility of materialistic wealth (the "ships of purple," which was the color of royalty, the "seas of daffodil," the color of gold, and the "fantastic sailors" that all disappear when "the wharf is still"). Perrine's explanation, however, made a great deal more sense. While his analysis of Dickinson's poem was not too surprising, his analysis of Melville's poem, on the other hand, threw me. When I studied the differences between Melville's and Whitman's poems, I primarily focused on their descriptions of the armies, and, therefore, their idea of war. It did not even occur to me that Melville's poem was not, in fact, about an army. I was so occupied with an analysis of diction that I failed to realize what that diction actually meant.

Basically, I found Perrine's approach comforting in that I now have a method to utilize, but disconcerting in that I have a long way to go.