PoemoftheWeek [Archive] - Page 2 - Literature Network Forums

Virgil

03-07-2006, 09:35 PM

[QUOTE]Isn’t that the point I was making? :confused: I'm not quite sure what "thinking like a poet" means here.

He's thinking like a poet in that he's adding layers of meaning.

Could you explain any of this, please? Why are all my comments ridiculous? I state that a poet is under no obligation to be positive (as you see it). Am I wrong?

I never said he was being positive. In fact I said the opposite. What I said was that there is layer of remorse and wretchedness in his core that religion, if he so happened to believe, could have dispelled. But he can't believe because at his core he is completely rational. That feeling of wretchedness is never alleviated. That is not positive.

He didn’t call it ‘a brocade’; he called it “That vast moth-eaten musical brocade/ Created to pretend we never die,”. It seems obvious to me that he is being negative

OK, but

but he is also being fair.
Here is where you are reading this as a philosophic tract. What's fairness have to do with anything? He was specific in using the trerm "musical bracade." Not and vast-moth eaten rag, not some some broken down empty building of a church. He was specific in his unusual diction. That is significant.

Brocade is not at all common in recent usage;
Of course.

Larkin has chosen a rather old-fashioned word to describe an institution that belongs in the past. Its primary purpose is decorative. It looks and sounds nice. He presents religion in a way that is consistent with poems like Church Going and his comment, "The Bible is a load of balls of course - but very beautiful." He can recognise its fading splendour but still dismisses it as offering nothing more than a delusion.
Ok, I don't dispute this. But pain and remorse is part of this poem. I don't know the other poems, but why bring up a subject if it's so meaningless.

He is no less dismissive of rationalism. There was once and might still be a grandeur about religion but the force of the comment comes from Created and pretend. 'Created' does carry positive connotations but the blatant suggestion is that man, not God, has created religion. As for the music, it’s pretty much what blp suggests –it’s the seductive organ swell of hymns, carrying us along on a tide of religious sentiment.
I don't disagree. But it is an elaborate image in poem sparsely filled with imagery.

Virgil

03-07-2006, 09:49 PM

The crux of this disagreement is whether one sees an additional layer to Larkin's poem or one just sees the surface statements. The reading that Unnamable presents is for the most part a sub-set of my reading. I just see more. I have not read any other Larkin. I don't have a feel for his level of poetic skill. If this had been William Shakespeare, or T.S. Eliot, or Wallace Stevens, or William Butler Yeats, or William Blake there would be no doubt in my mind that the poet had added this layer of remorse within the undercurrent of the text. The fact that the entire tone is of wretchedness, initiated in the very first line of being drunk every night, the fact that he protests his remorse, the term "musical brocade" as discussed above, and even more, presents to me an additional layer of meaning. Normally you give the artist the benefit of the doubt and assume he intends these layers of meaning. When meanings can be added, readers attribute to the author. If Larkin really just wrote along the surface meaning, then this is a rather mundane piece. If so, then he may have even lost control of the tone. I don't feel that way. I see craft here.

Petrarch's Love

03-07-2006, 10:40 PM

Well, I was going to agree with Unnamable all the way on this point. I mean, Larkin only introduces the musical brocade image to poke holes in it after all. It doesn't seem as though he has any (even subconcious) feeling that religion is able to save him or anything of that sort. Having read the above post, however, I take your point about a poem having multiple layers. On a certain level what drives this poem is the doubts that he has about all sorts of things, the regrets that come unbidden to even the most decided minds, the contemplation of the "undiscovered country," or in this case the nothingness that awaits us. He considers the "conventional" ways of grappling with the question of death (including religion) and acknowledges the potential attraction of religion. It is important that he include such considerations if he is going to effectively make his point that none of them matter. I think what you are pointing to is something that creates the tension of the poem, the fact that Larkin is able to see the temptations of regrets and the attractions of religion even while he is insistently unable to take this view himself.

hastalavictoria

03-07-2006, 10:48 PM

:D I remember having to read that in like middle or elementary school.
I love that poem.
One of my favorites.

tn2743

03-07-2006, 10:59 PM

Hi Virgil,

I don't think this was the point that Unamable was disputing (in fact I am not too sure what it is). Because what you have just stated is, I feel, not disputable: every poem must have many layers of meaning. Maybe it is just a misunderstanding. You're right nonetheless. I think any piece of art is the subject of interpretation, and everyone is entitled to have a view and have that view respected. How can any of us know the exact answer?

The Unnamable

03-08-2006, 08:52 AM

He's thinking like a poet in that he's adding layers of meaning.
So a poet is similar to a cook, adding a dash of ambiguity here and a pinch of extra meaning there. The creative process is a bit like a recipe, complete with the relevant ingredients. Sorry, but this is not how I think poets work. I said earlier that, “ perhaps this is an example of the art that conceals itself but I see Larkin in that poem as a man first and a poet later. It’s the experienced man and not the experienced poet that I hear first and foremost.” I stand by this.

I never said he was being positive. In fact I said the opposite. What I said was that there is layer of remorse and wretchedness in his core that religion, if he so happened to believe, could have dispelled.
Here’s the bit that I was referring to: “This could have been written as a celebration of a life lived, even as an atheist, but he doesn't.” You seem to lament the fact that Larkin has NOT provided us with a celebration. You offer it almost as a lost opportunity. He is under no obligation to offer us anything. He gives us his thoughts and it would be ludicrous of me to complain that those views could have been more life affirming.

Having taught Larkin a number of times at post-16 level, I have had to battle with students’ assumptions that Larkin’s views are those of a miserable pessimist with nothing of value to say. If that’s how they want to see him, then that’s their right. However, if their outlook depends on the assumption that poetry (or even Literature in general) has to provide us with a celebration of life, then I think their assumptions need to be challenged. Larkin’s right to his view is no less valid than any other author’s right to his or hers.

But he can't believe because at his core he is completely rational.
Even though, in the poem he makes it clear that rationalism is as flawed and limited as religion?You appear to have overlooked a layer of meaning. :D

“And specious stuff that says No rational being
Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing
That this is what we fear -- no sight, no sound,
No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,”

Were he rational to the core, he shouldn’t be scared.

That feeling of wretchedness is never alleviated. That is not positive.
No, I don’t think it would be seen as positive. To me, there is nothing to be gained by applying a label either way here. The feeling of wretchedness is never alleviated because that’s how he feels, not because he has somehow failed as a poet or an artist.

Here is where you are reading this as a philosophic tract.
Not at all. This is where I see the poet’s choice of words as generating layers of meaning. Larkin’s attitude is not so cut and dried as to say simply that religion = bad. He registers some of its positive aspects in the language he uses. He is being faithful to his own perceptions. In his comment about the Bible quoted above, he simultaneously considers it “a load of balls” and “beautiful”. As Jack Kerouac said, “Walking on water wasn't built in a day.”

What's fairness have to do with anything? He was specific in using the trerm "musical bracade." Not and vast-moth eaten rag, not some some broken down empty building of a church. He was specific in his unusual diction. That is significant.

Of course it is. I’m not arguing that it isn’t. I’m saying that Larkin is not interested in regrets, certainly not in the sense that he thinks things might have been different, if only he’d been more life affirming or whatever. I agree with Petrarch’s Love, when she says “his point is that, terrible though such regrets might be, they don't really matter at all because nothing matters because all will be nothing in the end. Ultimately even terrible regrets look comforting next to the realization that we "shall be lost in always. Not to be here,/Not to be anywhere,/And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true."

In Dockery and Son, Larkin compares himself with someone he knew who produced a son (the speaker is childless). He asks:

“Why did he think adding meant increase?
To me it was dilution. Where do these
Innate assumptions come from?”

This poem ends with the oft quoted:

“Life is first boredom, then fear.
Whether or not we use it, it goes,
And leaves what something hidden from us chose,
And age, and then the only end of age.”

Ok, I don't dispute this. But pain and remorse is part of this poem. I don't know the other poems, but why bring up a subject if it's so meaningless.
This is where you are taking the poem as a piece of philosophical writing. The fact that something is meaningless (your word, not mine by the way) does not mean that someone shouldn’t write about it. I thought I’d made it perfectly clear why he’d brought it up.

it is an elaborate image in poem sparsely filled with imagery.
:confused: How does that work?

The Unnamable

03-08-2006, 09:06 AM

The crux of this disagreement is whether one sees an additional layer to Larkin's poem or one just sees the surface statements.
I love the way you unselfconsciously make the most outrageous statements as if they are the humblest of facts. :D That statement is both arrogant and misinformed.

For me the crux of the disagreement resides in your comments above, which feed directly into your perception of what Larkin is doing.

You say:

“There are three things Larkin brings up that he dispells, unconvincingly to me: remorse, wretchedness, religion. As to religion, if he doesn't feel something towards it, why bring it up? The tone of the poem suggests to me that it could have changed his life, but he's too rational in this modern age to accept it.”

And you later add:

“This could have been written as a celebration of a life lived.”

You have entirely missed the point of the poem.

The reading that Unnamable presents is for the most part a sub-set of my reading. I just see more.
That’s the benefit of having a superior intellect, I suppose. :lol:

I have not read any other Larkin.
I have. You see more; I read more. :lol:

I don't have a feel for his level of poetic skill. If this had been William Shakespeare, or T.S. Eliot, or Wallace Stevens, or William Butler Yeats, or William Blake there would be no doubt in my mind that the poet had added this layer of remorse.
Even if he feels remorse, it’s dismissed and counts for nothing when faced with the absolute and undeniable reality of death. That is the thrust of the poem – to try to dilute its potency by insisting that this bleakness could have somehow been avoided is to emasculate it. What you are doing here is tactically unfair. You are implying that my reading of the poem depends upon ignoring layers of meaning. It doesn’t. It depends on being sensitive to the significance of those layers. Yes, Larkin thinks about the “time / Torn off, unused” but this is not what terrifies him. Had he focused on it, it might even have helped him to stop seeing "what's really always there:"

Your argument is rather like saying that the best thing about Hamlet is the character of Osric and anyone failing to see that is dealing only in surfaces. Shakespeare must have considered Osric important or he wouldn’t have ‘brought him up’, right? Perhaps the point is that Hamlet should have been more like Osric? All I can say is, thank God he wasn’t.

The fact that the entire tone is of wretchedness, initiated in the very first line of being drunk every night, the fact that he protests his remorse, the term "musical brocade" as discussed above, and even more, presents to me an additional layer of meaning.
I have no idea how you acquired the belief that I was saying poems don’t have layers of meaning. My disagreement is over the hierarchy of those layers. More than anything else, this is a poem about facing the certainty of extinction.

Normally you give the artist the benefit of the doubt and assume he intends these layers of meaning. When meanings can be added, readers attribute to the author. If Larkin really just wrote along the surface meaning, then this is a rather mundane piece. If so, then he may have even lost control of the tone. I don't feel that way. I see craft here.
And I, of course, was saying there is no craft, especially when I said that it might be an example of “the art that conceals itself”, which is the craftiest craft of all.

PS Larkin's dying words were, "I am going to the inevitable."

The Unnamable

03-08-2006, 09:11 AM

I think what you are pointing to is something that creates the tension of the poem, the fact that Larkin is able to see the temptations of regrets and the attractions of religion even while he is insistently unable to take this view himself.
I think the tension in the poem comes more from our unwillingness to accept Larkin’s bleak outlook while at the same time registering that he doesn’t allow us to see it any other way. I note your use of ‘insistently’.

Well, I was going to agree with Unnamable all the way on this point.
My ambition is to get you to go all the way with me. :D

I mean, Larkin only introduces the musical brocade image to poke holes in it after all. It doesn't seem as though he has any (even subconcious) feeling that religion is able to save him or anything of that sort. Having read the above post, however, I take your point about a poem having multiple layers.
Who’d have thought a poem had layers of meaning? :lol:

On a certain level
Is this your get-out clause? :D

what drives this poem is the doubts that he has about all sorts of things, the regrets that come unbidden to even the most decided minds, the contemplation of the "undiscovered country," or in this case the nothingness that awaits us.
I disagree. What drives the poem is not doubt but certainty – “The sure extinction that we travel to / And shall be lost in always.” Why did he include ‘sure’ and why did he use ‘shall’ when he might have used ‘will’? You could argue that even by mentioning ‘sure’ and using ‘shall’, he is forcing the issue and has to do so because he favours certainty over doubt. If the emphasis were placed here, much of the power of the poem would be lost for me and, I believe, for most who love Larkin. Here we see a man utterly devoid of any comforting beliefs, managing his relationship with approaching extinction. In The Old Fools he writes about being old and ends with:

“…crouching below
Extinction's alp, the old fools, never perceiving
How near it is. This must be what keeps them quiet:
The peak that stays in view wherever we go
For them is rising ground. Can they never tell
What is dragging them back, and how it will end? Not at night?
Not when the strangers come? Never, throughout
The whole hideous inverted childhood? Well,
We shall find out.”

We shall indeed.

blp

03-08-2006, 10:59 AM

Monday, time for a new poem:

Between Going And Staying
Octavio Paz

Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.

The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.

The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.

The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.

Just so it doesn't get lost in the shuffle, here's this week's poem again. I guess maybe we could hold over the discussion until next week and hope the musical brocade question's neatly tied up with a bow by then.

Riesa

03-08-2006, 11:12 AM

Thanks blp, :D I was thinking that next month I would try again with one that might actually get talked about..;)

Scheherazade

03-08-2006, 01:35 PM

Can I humbly interject here and remind the discussion which took place a while back :D :

People do interpret literary works differently and as long as these interpretations are supported by textual 'proof', they are all valid, in my opinion. I know that this argument of mine has taken a lot of bashing from all corners of the world. However, if one takes the time to read this whole thread from the start, it will be apparent that we all have different views on these poems and it only adds to their richness to have these interpretations and meanings. And Larkin's poem is no different. Virgil looks at it from one angle (which is supported by his own cultural background and personal beliefs) and The Unnamable from another (ditto). I think it is beautiful to have these variations and, to me, neither is right or wrong (I might tend to agree with one more than the other, again based on my personal experiences); they are simply different.

Virgil

03-08-2006, 09:02 PM

:confused: ?

Good God. Did I hit a nerve or what? So sorry. I didn't realize your sensibilities were so delicate. Nor how emotionally attached you are to this poem. How old did you say you were? A little disagreement and your feathers get all bent out of shape? Well, let us just say we agree to disagree.

ktd222

03-08-2006, 10:25 PM

I Would Like To Post Next Weeks Poem.

blp

03-08-2006, 10:29 PM

I Would Like To Post Next Weeks Poem.

Do you think you can wait until the week after next, ktd222? As I said above, I really think it would be good and only fair to give the one Riesa posted a proper airing. Aside from everything else, I really like it.

ktd222

03-08-2006, 10:34 PM

I don't know if I can. I've got a doozy. But I'll only post if their is no opposition. Can you repost the poem Blp? Are we in agreement Riesas post is what were discussing next?

tn2743

03-08-2006, 10:47 PM

Riesa

03-08-2006, 10:52 PM

Like I said before, I'll try again next month, no big deal, by all means, post away ktd222.

ktd222

03-08-2006, 10:56 PM

Now I'm feeling guilty. Forget what I said, your post before mine is just fine.

Riesa

03-08-2006, 11:06 PM

oh, come now. first everyone is yelling at each other, and now everyone is all kissy-kissy.

Whatever happened to the poetry? :lol:

ktd222

03-08-2006, 11:09 PM

Hey! I wasn't the One yelling before! Maybe later!

Riesa

03-08-2006, 11:11 PM

that's true, that's why you deserve the chance to post your doozy.

ktd222

03-08-2006, 11:14 PM

I don't have to wait until Monday? I'm afraid of The Law(Scheherazade).

Riesa

03-08-2006, 11:19 PM

Well, that's probably not a bad idea. :eek: plus, maybe there are a few around here that haven't quite finished what they want to say.

Petrarch's Love

03-08-2006, 11:20 PM

So are we discussing the Paz? I'll assume so for the moment (if ktd goes ahead and posts the "doozy" while I'm writing this, then I guess we can go ahead and discuss that). It's really a beautiful little gem of a poem, and I'm interested in the fact that it's the first poem I've seen on this thread that is a translation. This brings up some very interesting questions about what the status of a translation of a poem is. The images of the poet are the same, but the sound of the poetry is obviously altered in its move to another language (is anyone here really good with Spanish and would like to comment on the differences--I can get a sense, but I don't really know the language well). I personally enjoyed the translation of this poem very much, but I wonder how much of my pleasure in the poem is attributable to the ideas the original poet contributed to it, and how much of my reaction to the poem is a result of the way the translator has worded the poem in English. In a way I suppose a translator is a bit of a poet in his own right. I think it would be phenomenally hard to translate poetry well. Here's the poem again in both languages for those who forget easily:

Between Going And Staying
Octavio Paz

Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.

The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.

The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.

The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.

Entre irse y quedarse

Entre irse y quedarse duda el día,
enamorado de su transparencia.
La tarde circular es ya bahía:
en su quieto vaivén se mece el mundo.
Todo es visible y todo es elusivo,
todo está cerca y todo es intocable.
Los papeles, el libro, el vaso, el lápiz
reposan a la sombra de sus nombres.
Latir del tiempo que en mi sien repite
la misma terca sílaba de sangre.
La luz hace del muro indiferente
un espectral teatro de reflejos.
En el centro de un ojo me descubro;
no me mira, me miro en su mirada.
Se disipa el instante. Sin moverme,
yo me quedo y me voy: soy una pausa.

Virgil

03-08-2006, 11:31 PM

Petrarch's Love

03-08-2006, 11:37 PM

"Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood."

Could this be a headache? When I have a headache I feel the pulse on my temples clearly, like a clock ticking. Am I way off target?

That's an interesting suggestion. It's true that your pulse throbs when you have a headache. It alters the way I had been perceiving the mood of the poem to think of the writer as having a headache. I had been thinking of it as one of those exceedingly still and tranquil moments when everything is so silent that you're intensely aware of the beat of your own pulse, and you feel you can almost hear your heartbeat.

By the way, for the spanish speakers out there, I was wondering if "sien" actually means "temple" or if the translator is taking liberties? Similar words in French, "sein" and Italian "seno" mean chest or breast, so I was wondering if he was actually referring to a heartbeat.

ktd222

03-08-2006, 11:59 PM

I personally enjoyed the translation of this poem very much, but I wonder how much of my pleasure in the poem is attributable to the ideas the original poet contributed to it, and how much of my reaction to the poem is a result of the way the translator has worded the poem in English.

Thats true, Petrach. Translations, for some reason, always brings me back to Rainer Rilke and the poem 'The Panther.' If you read the translations by Stephen Mitchell and Edward Snow--the two translations are comparatively different from each other on word choices and syntax; and that does, to the reader, give each translation a different 'sense.' So I would guess a large part of how we would react to a translated poem is dependent on the translation. How true to the original is this translation--whose to know?

Petrarch's Love

03-09-2006, 12:02 AM

One question on translation, Petrarch. Would certain cultural resonances, sort of what we argued over above, be lost in translation? I should say, could. How does a translator handle that?

Certainly, as you say, cultural resonances are often lost in translation. Every language has words with a variety of meanings and feelings attached to them that no dictionary can adequately explain, and which have no real correspondence in another language. That is, after all why we use certain foreign expressions even when speaking English, because there's just no other way to express that je ne sais quoi. ;) And as we've just seen, it's sometimes hard enough to reconcile different cultural/individual perceptions of words within one's native language. I think (after dealing with the change in actual musical sound of the language) it must be one of the hardest jobs of the translator to keep all the connotions of those words alive in a foreign tongue, especially when poets have often chosen that word with extreeme care to convey a particular meaning.

I suppose there are different attempts to deal with this. Some end up just giving a literal translation and losing the prior feeling of the word. Some translators try to find the closest colloquial equivilent to the word in their own language. Some end up transplanting the poem into their own culture by ignoring the original cultural context, but trying to find the thing that feels most similar in their culture. Of course there are certain words that people generally just don't even try to translate (my favorite of these is "sprezzatura" from the Italian renaissance--it's impossible to define but it basically means you do everything well seemingly effortlessly and applies to the "Renaissance man"--like Leonardo).

Virgil

03-09-2006, 12:11 AM

(my favorite of these is "sprezzatura" from the Italian renaissance--it's impossible to define but it basically means you do everything well seemingly effortlessly and applies to the "Renaissance man"--like Leonardo).
I love that word too. I wish I could find more times to use it. I would love to stick it in a technical report one day and watch some of the reactons. :D You've probably never read technical reports, but it just wouldn't go. :lol:

Riesa

03-09-2006, 10:39 AM

Notes from the translator, Eliot Weinberger: "twenty years ago, my own collaboration with Paz began....that poet, publisher, and translator have continued to work together all these years is the result of a strange calmness-however full of debate-that has marked what are often rancorous relationships." Which leads me to believe that he might actually have Paz' approval on his translations.
Some background on Paz:

He spent time in New York and San Francisco, taught at Cambirge, University of Texas, and Harvard.
He started publishing poetry at seventeen, was friends with Andre Breton, participated in Surrealist activities, published an anthology of Mexican poetry, (the English version was translated by Samuel Beckett) and was the Mexican Ambassador to India, which led him to immerse himself in Indian art and philosophy.
"Poetry makes things more transparent and clearer and teaches us to respect men and nature," Paz says.

more about Paz (http://www.mexconnect.com/mex_/history/jtuck/jtoctaviopaz.html)

blp

03-09-2006, 11:57 AM

First Wallace Stevens turns out to have been not just an insurance man, but the company head, now we find that Paz was the Mexican Ambassador to India. For some reason, I love this. I suppose its the assault on the unworldly romantic poet stereotype.

Between Going And Staying
Octavio Paz

Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.

This seems to be about twilight. The first line repeats the title and makes it clear it refers to dusk - as a sort of undecidable between day and night. The rest of the poem is a description or elucidation of this.

The circular afternoon is now a bay
A circle becoming a semi-circle? And if so, why or how?

where the world in stillness rocks.
Apparently paradoxical. Still, stillness could refer to perpetuity. Also to the constantly circling earth on which the poet, seemingly impossibly, is experiencing a moment of stillness.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.
As an aside, this reminds me a lot of Villon:

'In my own country I am in a far off land...

...when I lie down I have a great fear of falling'

But it's not the same; there isn't the same existential unease. This is, I think, the beginning of Paz describing the sort of hallucinatory quality that twilight gives the world - hallucinatory not in the sense of distorting or adding anything, but making one intensely aware of the inherent strangeness of observable phenomena. The light is softer, observation is easier and, at the end of the day, we become less active and prepare for rest. Things fill out their identities and we have a chance to contemplate them. They become both more 'visible' and, in being seen as objects of contemplation rather than utility, more 'elusive' to the understanding. 'Can't be touched'? I'm skeptical. I think he doesn't want to touch them because it's more pleasurable just to look at them, these objects he has been using throughout the day:

Paper, book, pencil, glass,

And they

rest in the shade of their names.

A lovely line, but I'm not sure I understand it. Perhaps it's that the names give a stability to matter that would otherwise be unstable. ? Dunno.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.

Doesn't sound like a headache to me. Again, I think it's about being at rest. Sitting quietly at the end of the day, one notices tiny motions such as one's own pulse in certain parts of the body. 'Syllable of blood' - a beat, something that might almost have a sound, the length of one syllable.

The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.

Again, twilight, the low sun milkily reflected on the wall.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.
Both in the eye and watching oneself from it - he's maybe the reflection of himself in the retina, watching himself in a moment of reflection. Or he looks into an eye and sees finds himself there - reflected. Or the eye is actually the window of his room.

The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.

The moment scatters - perhaps night falls, taking away the clarity of twilight, even taking away the names of the things in that they become no longer visible. The poet is 'Motionless', but stays and goes - probably because he also disappears in the dark. He is a pause - he identifies himself with the still moment he's been describing, in which he has had an intense sense of the world and himself in it. It's a poet's moment, a moment of both clarity and strangeness and he is a poet. When the moment is gone, so is he. The moment, the pause, is him.

Petrarch's Love

03-09-2006, 05:20 PM

This seems to be about twilight. The first line repeats the title and makes it clear it refers to dusk - as a sort of undecidable between day and night.

blp--I agree, I definately picture the poem at that sunset/twilight time. Especially the description of "all visible and elusive" conjures up that sort of lighting. I picture him overlooking the ocean for some reason (maybe the use of the word "bay" in the third line gave me that image, or maybe that's just the place where I've most often had similar moments).

Quote:
Originally Posted by Paz
The circular afternoon is now a bay

A circle becoming a semi-circle? And if so, why or how?

I thought this was another reference to the time of day. Again, I'm picturing the ocean (though it works anywhere, it's just easiest for me to envision clearly on the water). If you picture that you're in the middle of the ocean, or any other flat place where you can see the horizon easily, at noon or early afternoon the sun is going to be shinning all around and the horizon will be bright around you in a circle. Toward sunset and twilight, the sun has descended to one point in the west, and is only really illuminating a portion of the horizon in a semi-circle or bay shape. That's what I think the line refers to anyway. Could be wrong.

Originally Posted by Paz
where the world in stillness rocks.

Apparently paradoxical. Still, stillness could refer to perpetuity. Also to the constantly circling earth on which the poet, seemingly impossibly, is experiencing a moment of stillness.

Stillness can also refer to silence, and I think that is the primary meaning here, especially since the Spanish reads "quieto" which I'll assume is akin to the English quiet. Still (hey, yet another way to use this word!), the meaning of "stillness" as something not moving works very nicely in the context of a poem that ends "soy una pausa," as does your gloss of stillness as "perpetuity." I wonder if the Spanish "quieto" has both connotations of non movement and non sound just as the English "still" does?

Notes from the translator, Eliot Weinberger: "twenty years ago, my own collaboration with Paz began....that poet, publisher, and translator have continued to work together all these years is the result of a strange calmness-however full of debate-that has marked what are often rancorous relationships." Which leads me to believe that he might actually have Paz' approval on his translations.

Riesa--Thanks for the background material. It's interesting that the translator had such a close collaboration with the poet. I think it shows in this being a remarkably good translation (at least in my opinion). I wonder though, why Paz himself wouldn't have done the translations. His English must have been pretty good if he taught at Cambridge, Harvard and U of T. I suppose it takes a real facility in both languages--knowledge of cultural resonances of language etc.--to be an effective translator, and maybe he didn't feel he had that?

Petrarch's Love

03-09-2006, 05:34 PM

I love that word too. I wish I could find more times to use it. I would love to stick it in a technical report one day and watch some of the reactons. You've probably never read technical reports, but it just wouldn't go.

Oh, you should just slip it in casually in the middle of one of your reports and then when they ask about it just act suprised that they don't recognize this obvious and simple technical term. :D You could say something like "What, I thought everyone knew about the sprezzatura principle of engineering! It's pretty fundamental isn't it?" and they'll be too embarassed thinking they should know all about it to ask you to elaborate. I'm sure it could be carried off with the right amount of sprezzatura. ;) I had a friend once who used to do this all the time with very impressive sounding words she made up. She was very disappointed to run into me, because I regularly make lists of unfamiliar words I run into and look them up in the OED every day, so I caught her at it early on. :lol:

blp

03-09-2006, 06:55 PM

blp--I agree, I definately picture the poem at that sunset/twilight time. Especially the description of "all visible and elusive" conjures up that sort of lighting. I picture him overlooking the ocean for some reason (maybe the use of the word "bay" in the third line gave me that image, or maybe that's just the place where I've most often had similar moments).

I picture it the same way and I do think it's the 'bay' reference, but it's a funny effect since that seems to be a metaphor.

ktd222

03-09-2006, 09:21 PM

I think this poem is all about how light, at different angles, changes how we perceive an object--even to the point of attatching emotions to that object. The light-play off an object may make it feel lovely from one point, and make the object seem repulsive from another. But this is us: We infuse the objects with emotions; otherwise the objects would just be objects--inanimate objects at that. And I think the 'I' in the poem sees that:

I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.

You can imagine the I looking at the shadow of the I's eye. A blank stare returned from the I's shadow. No emotions invested in the shadow's eye.

The world that we 'see' using our sense of vision is emotionless.

The last stanza of this poem is the only stanza with two sentences. This is weird to me, because I don't know which of the 'I' is 'I stay and go' and which is 'I am a pause.' Which I is the real person and which I is the I's shadow?

I also get a weird sense after reading the last stanza and comparing it to the first stanza:

The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.

Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.

Does this mean only 'the day' can love objects because 'the day' controls how an object looks by aiming light at certain angles off the object? Funny use of syntax: 'the day'--makes the day sound like an object. Is the writer getting at this: only an inanimate object can love an inanimate object?

What do ya'll think?

Virgil

03-10-2006, 12:23 AM

I think this poem is all about how light, at different angles, changes how we perceive an object--even to the point of attatching emotions to that object.

It's a poet's moment, a moment of both clarity and strangeness and he is a poet.

I think both of these statements kind of get at the theme of this inscrutable poem. It seems to be about a moment caught in the mind and where the mind twists and shapes what it senses.

One other motif that I see that has not been already mentioned is that of narcissism: “the day wavers,/in love with its own transparency” and then later is echoed with “watching myself in its blank stare.”

Of the eight couplets there is only one that is not wound around in an elaborate metaphor: “All is visible and all elusive,/all is near and can’t be touched.” That is the only flat, sentence in the whole poem. Is that the theme then, being that it boldly stands out? And from who’s perspective is that from? I assume the narrator, but the opening lines start from the perspective of the personified “day.”

The other seven couplets are wrapped in metaphysical conceits, similar if not even more elaborate than the 17th century metaphysical poets. Let’s unpack a couple of these. The first couplet: The day “between going and staying,” I can envision this as the twilight time where the afternoon seems to hang fire. And then he doubles up on it with “the day wavers.” But then how is the day transparent and how can it love its own transparency?

“The circular afternoon is now a bay/where the world in stillness rocks.” How can the afternoon be circular? All time in reality is linear except through a mind’s perception. (Except perhaps in quantum physics, but I don’t think that’s relevant here.) And then the afternoon (an abstract notion) is morphed into a bay (a tangible thing). And how can the world a large entity rock in the bay, an entity that is a subset to that larger entity. So the afternoon is a bay from which the world rocks?

The other couplets are not quite as elaborate, though elaborate enough. So is this poem about the mind reshaping the outside world through its power of imagination? Perhaps. Is this poem about the power of the mind to impose its will on the self? Some how all these themes presented by all of us seem to be relevant, but I'm not sure if any of us are actually articulating what Paz is after.

The last couplet is also quite interesting. “The moment scatters. Motionless,/I stay and go: I am a pause.” Blp has already mentioned how he, the narrator, has become the pause. It also echoes the first line, only inverted. “Between going and staying” has become “I stay and go.” Go-stay is now stay-go. And it’s shifted from the perspective of the day to the perspective of the narrator.

Entertain this notion, if you will. Wallace Stevens in “The Snowman” starts from the mind of the narrator and ends in the mind of the snowman. Paz starts this poem from the mind of the day and ends in the mind of the narrator. Sort of the opposite of Stevens. A relationship perhaps? Probably not, but interesting to note. The two poets do seem similar in style.

I kind of enjoyed this poem more so now after I've unpacked.

ktd222

03-10-2006, 01:22 AM

“The moment scatters. Motionless,/I stay and go: I am a pause.” Blp has already mentioned how he, the narrator, has become the pause.

Virgil,

How would you interpret these two lines:

1) I am the pause.
2) I am a pause.

ktd222

03-10-2006, 01:29 AM

So is this poem about the mind reshaping the outside world through its power of imagination? Perhaps. Is this poem about the power of the mind to impose its will on the self? Some how all these themes presented by all of us seem to be relevant, but I'm not sure if any of us are actually articulating what Paz is after.

Who really can mirror the thoughts of anybody other than themselves. You guys want to tackle this poem line by line?

chmpman

03-10-2006, 02:06 AM

"Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.

The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks."

With the "circular afternoon is now a bay" line I think Paz is setting a tone of seeing an eventual absence and end to the "day". A "circular" afternoon would be infinite, but a "bay" has a definite opening to another larger body. These lines make me feel the poem could be about the span of one's life.

"All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood."

I find the contrast between the tangible nouns present in the first couplet here, compared to the intangiblity of time interesting. Time seems to have a greater affinity with the narrator than the objects that are seen around him. He seems to take pleasure in what cannot be felt within this poem.

"The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections."

Here again the tangible "wall" is referred to as "indifferent", creating a distinction between the narrator and the external world.

"I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare."

This couplet just confuses me.

"The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause."

Here the "moment" of reflection into those intangible mysteries, as the twilight dissipates and everything is no longer in the romantic light of the sunset, disappears as the final rays of the sun "scatter". He is no longer drenched in that intangible light and everything appears as it is, without illumination.

As to the thems, I see a celebration of what cannot be felt and what is left to the imagination.

Great poem by the way, but I'm sure I'm totally off base.

blp

03-10-2006, 11:20 AM

Virgil,

How would you interpret these two lines:

1) I am the pause.
2) I am a pause.

I know you asked Virgil this question, but I'll have a go.

I think Paz is identifying himself with the pause he's described throughout the poem and, in doing so, sees himself as, generally, a pause.

chmpman

03-10-2006, 03:11 PM

I think the pause is something he creates for himself through his imagination. With his human faculties he is able to view the world from the standpoint of "a pause" in a world that doesn't really support the existence of a true lack of motion.

ktd222

03-10-2006, 07:43 PM

I think Paz is identifying himself with the pause he's described throughout the poem and, in doing so, sees himself as, generally, a pause

So by Paz stating the 'I' in the poem as being a pause, does that identify the 'I' as being part of 'the pause' he is describing thoughout the poem?

If so, what happens to the poems meaning then?

Is the the description of the 'I' as ' I am a pause' make the 'I' less signifcant(meaning, part of something larger) to 'the pause?'

Virgil

03-10-2006, 10:10 PM

So by Paz stating the 'I' in the poem as being a pause, does that identify the 'I' as being part of 'the pause' he is describing thoughout the poem?

If so, what happens to the poems meaning then?

Is the the description of the 'I' as ' I am a pause' make the 'I' less signifcant(meaning, part of something larger) to 'the pause?'
My first reacton was along the lines of blp's statement. But now you got me thinking. There could be a difference. But I can't guess at the significance.

Scheherazade

03-12-2006, 08:04 PM

Poem for the new week:

THE WILL by John Donne

BEFORE I sigh my last gasp, let me breathe,
Great Love, some legacies ; I here bequeath
Mine eyes to Argus, if mine eyes can see ;
If they be blind, then, Love, I give them thee ;
My tongue to Fame ; to ambassadors mine ears ;
To women, or the sea, my tears ;
Thou, Love, hast taught me heretofore
By making me serve her who had twenty more,
That I should give to none, but such as had too much before.

My constancy I to the planets give ;
My truth to them who at the court do live ;
My ingenuity and openness,
To Jesuits ; to buffoons my pensiveness ;
My silence to any, who abroad hath been ;
My money to a Capuchin :
Thou, Love, taught'st me, by appointing me
To love there, where no love received can be,
Only to give to such as have an incapacity.

My faith I give to Roman Catholics ;
All my good works unto the Schismatics
Of Amsterdam ; my best civility
And courtship to an University ;
My modesty I give to soldiers bare ;
My patience let gamesters share :
Thou, Love, taught'st me, by making me
Love her that holds my love disparity,
Only to give to those that count my gifts indignity.

I give my reputation to those
Which were my friends ; mine industry to foes ;
To schoolmen I bequeath my doubtfulness ;
My sickness to physicians, or excess ;
To nature all that I in rhyme have writ ;
And to my company my wit :
Thou, Love, by making me adore
Her, who begot this love in me before,
Taught'st me to make, as though I gave, when I do but restore.

To him for whom the passing-bell next tolls,
I give my physic books ; my written rolls
Of moral counsels I to Bedlam give ;
My brazen medals unto them which live
In want of bread ; to them which pass among
All foreigners, mine English tongue :
Though, Love, by making me love one
Who thinks her friendship a fit portion
For younger lovers, dost my gifts thus disproportion.

Therefore I'll give no more, but I'll undo
The world by dying, because love dies too.
Then all your beauties will be no more worth
Than gold in mines, where none doth draw it forth ;
And all your graces no more use shall have,
Than a sun-dial in a grave :
Thou, Love, taught'st me by making me
Love her who doth neglect both me and thee,
To invent, and practise this one way, to annihilate all three.

tn2743

03-13-2006, 12:34 AM

My word! It's long! Better get cracking.

Grumbleguts

03-13-2006, 08:55 AM

A very entertaining poem. I found myself, after the first couple of verses, trying to guess what the reason for giving was in each one. He was a clever old boy.

And it's not long enough in my opinion. I couldn't stop reading it once started.

Scheherazade

03-13-2006, 12:01 PM

I like the few Donne poems I have read. I find the way he puts his ideas through very entertaining. He is very creative and witty, which, I believe, makes this poem fun to read even though it is somewhat long.

I have not 'studied' this poem (only discovered it last year on this Forum) so I thought it would be nice to go through it paying particular attention to all the references like Argus, which is a giant with 100 eyes in mythology and he leaves his eyes to him! :D

rachel

03-13-2006, 01:00 PM

Oh, you should just slip it in casually in the middle of one of your reports and then when they ask about it just act suprised that they don't recognize this obvious and simple technical term. :D You could say something like "What, I thought everyone knew about the sprezzatura principle of engineering! It's pretty fundamental isn't it?" and they'll be too embarassed thinking they should know all about it to ask you to elaborate. I'm sure it could be carried off with the right amount of sprezzatura. ;) I had a friend once who used to do this all the time with very impressive sounding words she made up. She was very disappointed to run into me, because I regularly make lists of unfamiliar words I run into and look them up in the OED every day, so I caught her at it early on. :lol:

let me say that merely reading your and blp's thoughts and word pictures about these poems is often to me more beautiful and enriching than the poem itself. So I concede that it is very important for there to be at least someone who takes a work apart and critiques it so that the essences and richness can be appreciated by those who having no time and opportunity can partake of a feast. thank you

Petrarch's Love

03-13-2006, 02:22 PM

:lol: Good old JD. Thanks for posting the poem Sher. I'm busy analysing another Donne poem in a paper just now, so I'm going to hold off any analysis of this one until after Tuesday when I turn that in so I don't get hopelessly confused :confused:. For now I'd just like to say that it's a very clever little poem and it gave me a nice laugh this morning.

let me say that merely reading your and blp's thoughts and word pictures about these poems is often to me more beautiful and enriching than the poem itself. So I concede that it is very important for there to be at least someone who takes a work apart and critiques it so that the essences and richness can be appreciated by those who having no time and opportunity can partake of a feast. thank you

Rachel-- :blush: Glad analysis can be worthwhile from time to time. We'd love to hear more of your opinions on the poems here if you ever find the time.

ktd222

03-14-2006, 05:07 AM

I couldn't take in the whole poem at once so I'll note the first stanza.

BEFORE I sigh my last gasp, let me breathe,
Great Love, some legacies ; I here bequeath
Mine eyes to Argus, if mine eyes can see ;
If they be blind, then, Love, I give them thee ;
My tongue to Fame ; to ambassadors mine ears ;
To women, or the sea, my tears ;
Thou, Love, hast taught me heretofore
By making me serve her who had twenty more,
That I should give to none, but such as had too much before.

1) 3 entities exists: I, Love, and the her

2) some legacies...huh? Maybe the I is deciding what part of the I that Love will inherit--which doesn't seem to be much.

3) Love has taught the I love through making(a sort of force) the I to serve the her(unconditionally?), who had twenty more of what? Twenty more demands in addition to the I as a servant? And ending the stanza with but such as had too much before brings up the question of before what? Probably a reference to the I as a servant to the her is already too much of the I that is being given in the name of learning love. Is the I questioning Love's method of love?

4) The only part of the I that Love inherits here is the I's eyes, but only if the I's eyes are blind. LOL at the reference that Love is inheriting blind eyes. This gives Love the opportunity to experience what Love has taught the I: love being unconditional when 'the her' need is involved. But what about the I's needs? Is a relationship being set up where the I has very little importance? Can love, defined in this way, keep together a relationship?

Nothing is being given to Love in this first stanza except a perspective for Love, to itself, experience. This experience being Love's own teachings.

The Unnamable

03-14-2006, 06:02 AM

I don’t think it’s as complicated as that. The legacies here are those things he bequeaths. The recipients have no use for any of the things he leaves to them. They already have more than enough. The woman has already had twenty lovers to serve her. Isn't Donne being a bit cheeky or perhaps tongue-in-cheeky?

blp

03-14-2006, 08:09 AM

I enjoy it more as philosophy - or even economics - than poetry, though you might say it works philosophically as only a poem can. It's wonderfully slippery - or it revels in the slipperiness of the ideas it's talking about, mostly love and giving.

The recipients have no use for any of the things he leaves to them. They already have more than enough.

Presumably, you're only talking about the first stanza. The very next is all about giving to people who don't have enough. (It's like some several centuries prescient dialectic between free market monetarism and socialism!) The tone is cheeky, at least at first, but the different contexts in which he places his themes make it seem like more than mischief. It gets quite tricky. I'll try to find time to comment more later.

The Unnamable

03-14-2006, 09:36 AM

Presumably, you're only talking about the first stanza. The very next is all about giving to people who don't have enough.
Yes – I was responding to ktd222’s comments, which were about just the first stanza. As for the next stanza, I don’t think that the point is that they don’t have enough but that the recipients this time cannot accept his offerings – he is continuing his dig at the woman:

“Only to give to such as have an incapacity.”

There is no point in giving truth to those that live at court – their whole existence is based in deceit. Similarly, there is little point in giving pensiveness to buffoons.

The last three lines of each stanza explain the significance of his bequests.

The Unnamable

03-14-2006, 09:54 AM

Isn’t this simply an averagely witty (by Donne’s standards) attack on both the woman and Love with a few other targets thrown in to make his mates laugh? The last stanza is very bitter.

Scheherazade

03-14-2006, 12:24 PM

2) some legacies...huh? Maybe the I is deciding what part of the I that Love will inherit--which doesn't seem to be much.I don't think the poem aims to 'honour' the 'Love' with all these legacies but more to criticise her for her shortcomings. So there is no surprise that she doesn't get much from him.
3) who had twenty more of what? 20 other lovers. The lady has already other lovers but insists that he should be his lover too hence teaching him not to give anyone but those who already have more than enough. 'Before'>Before he has given them those things.

4) The only part of the I that Love inherits here is the I's eyes, but only if the I's eyes are blind.Since in this stanza he is leaving things only to those who has already has more than enough, leaving his love 'blind eyes' means she is also blind, ie, to his love. She already has more than enough lovers and does not appreciate his love.

Even though the poem seems like a bitter piece addressed to his lover, I think it also does a very good job of giving away Donne's view of many others, especially in the later stanzas and there is more to this poem than laments of a neglected lover.

ktd222

03-14-2006, 12:25 PM

Unnamable,

Why don't you give my comments more thought and then respond properly. The things I noted do exist in the poem. You went on a long rampage about that Larkin poem, I'm sure there is more than you are noting here.

ktd222

03-14-2006, 12:27 PM

20 other lovers.

Where does the word lover appear?

I don't think the poem aims to 'honour' the 'Love' with all these legacies

I never said this. Get your facts straight.

The Unnamable

03-14-2006, 01:20 PM

Whifflingpin

03-14-2006, 01:26 PM

Scher: "Since in this stanza he is leaving things only to those who has already has more than enough, leaving his love 'blind eyes' means she is also blind, ie, to his love. "

I think that "Love" is Eros, the god of love, who is blind.
"her" is the disdainful beloved one.

Eros (Love) is causing Donne (I) to love "her."

.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-14-2006, 02:09 PM

Isn’t this simply an averagely witty (by Donne’s standards) attack on both the woman and Love with a few other targets thrown in to make his mates laugh? The last stanza is very bitter.

Spot on Unnamable, that's exactly how I read it. I enjoy reading the analyses of poetry here (and add a bit from time to time if I feel able) but I really think that a lot of you have gone over the top here, trying to dig out gold from a mountain when it's lying in plain sight in front of you all the time. Some poems really are as simple as they appear. This is one of them, IMHO. :nod:

Whifflingpin

03-14-2006, 02:39 PM

Xamonas: "Some poems really are as simple as they appear."
I agree with you, at least in respect of the first five stanzas, but I think I've lost the plot in the last.

Unnamable: "In the final stanza he says he will die and thus put an end to himself, Love and the woman."

He does say that, but in what sense can he mean it?
She will not be perturbed, as she has twenty others to serve her (Stanza 1,) cannot receive his love (Sta 2,) despises it (Sta 3,) and prefers younger lovers (Sta 5.)
Cupid, doubtless, will continue to shoot his arrows.

So, is it only his world that he will undo by dying, and his love and perception of her beauties and graces?

.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-14-2006, 02:49 PM

Whifflingpin,

IMHO Donne's saying that her grace and beauty are of no use without someone to love her, himself being that someone. He is being a bit melodramatic at this point (and almost certainly with tongue firmly in cheek) . Read something more into it if you like, I'm not the sharpest critic and never claim to be, but that's all I see there.

bluevictim

03-14-2006, 02:56 PM

Whifflingpin

03-14-2006, 03:04 PM

Xamonas: "Donne's saying that her grace and beauty are of no use without someone to love her, himself being that someone. He is being a bit melodramatic at this point (and almost certainly with tongue firmly in cheek) ."
OK, I can go with that - a rather more elegant "I'll kill myself and you'll be sorry"

Bluevictim: "I thought Donne was talking about Love's grace and beauty. I don't think he addresses "her" in any other line of the poem, and he addresses Love continually."
It is a bit of a jump, but I think it is her beauties and graces, not Love's. He addresses Love as "thou," but has switched to "you" for these lines. Hence my assumption that he has changed the person he's talking to.

.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-14-2006, 03:04 PM

I thought Donne was talking about Love's grace and beauty. I don't think he addresses "her" in any other line of the poem, and he addresses Love continually. Also, the imagery of unmined gold in a mountain and a sundial in a grave seems to fit because Love will be buried with him.

But he talks of all three dying (in some way): himself, the woman and Love. Himself because he physically dies; Love because his love for the woman is a part of him and dies at his death; and the woman because she is now bereft of appreciation by the one that loves her. Melodramatic as hell but I already made that point.

To invent, and practise this one way, to annihilate all three.

bluevictim

03-14-2006, 03:06 PM

On second thought, I think he is maybe talking about the world's grace and beauty (possibly including "her"), because, as Whifflington points out, he uses the plural "your" rather than the singular "thy".

Whifflingpin

03-14-2006, 03:17 PM

bluevictim: "On second thought, I think he is maybe talking about the world's grace and beauty (possibly including "her"), because, as Whifflington points out, he uses the plural "your" rather than the singular "thy"."

I still think it is her g&b. "you" is formal, rather than plural. I can see why he might wish to address his beloved, (the poem is indirectly addressed to her throughout, is it not?) but I cannot see that he would suddenly want to address the world.

bluevictim

03-14-2006, 03:28 PM

Whifflington and Xamonas,

You're probably right, but for some reason I'm still uncomfortable with it. The way I read the poem, the speaker is exasperated with love and the woman, and it seemed to me more like he is giving up (in frustration) rather than trying to stick it to her. He doesn't seem to think that it would make any difference to her if he died. After all, there are at least twenty others who can appreciate her beauty and graces. IMHO, of course.

I really liked the word play in
The world by dying, because love dies too.

Whifflingpin

03-14-2006, 03:58 PM

Stanza 2 - "ingenuity" - I had to check. This originally meant ingenuousness (freedom from guile,) not, as it does today, ingeniousness (power of ready invention.) The modern meaning would have meant that the Jesuits belonged in stanza 1, perhaps.

Unnamable: “Is the semi-colon in line 6 of the first stanza correct?”
In the Penguin book “The Metaphysical Poets” this semi-colon, and the colons, are all full stops.
In Donne’s time, the punctuation would still have been non-existent, would it not? [Edit - no, idiot.]

Xamonas Chegwe

03-14-2006, 04:46 PM

bluevictim

03-14-2006, 05:00 PM

The last stanza isn't coming as easily to me as to others here, I guess. I'm still unsure what the scope of "your" is. My first thoughts seem unsatisfactory, and it doesn't quite click for me that it is merely referring to the woman. The imagery is a little confusing to me, as well; the worth/forth couplet suggests a woman, but the have/grave couplet suggests a man.

I can't even figure out the straightforward, plain meaning, let alone secret meanings and subtexts!

tn2743

03-14-2006, 05:34 PM

Can someone explain to me "My tongue to Fame" please? Is it because Fame does not need a tongue, like how Argus does not need more eyes? Why is Fame in capital, is it a person?

I also agree with Unamable about the bitterness. There is bitterness in the last three lines of every stanza.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-14-2006, 05:48 PM

Can someone explain to me "My tongue to Fame" please? Is it because Fame does not need a tongue, like how Argus does not need more eyes? Why is Fame in capital, is it a person?

I think he's referring to the fact that the famous have no need of one more tongue to praise them. The capitalisation implies a personification of Fame; Donne could have said, "My tongue to praise the famous" or some such but in order to make the words scan he needed to shorten the phrase.

Whifflingpin

03-14-2006, 06:37 PM

Whifflingpin

03-14-2006, 06:46 PM

http://homepage.mac.com/cparada/GML/Pheme.html
"Basics about Fame: The sayings and reports, that coming and going among mortals become rumours, are spread by Pheme, regarded by some as a messenger of Zeus. This Pheme, whose eyes are never overcome by Sleep, is a swift creature with countless tongues and ears."

Xamonas Chegwe

03-14-2006, 07:01 PM

(hands up who knows exactly what "the Schismatics of Amsterdam" are?)

Sorry to be a prig - they are those who believe in salvation by faith, rather than salvation by good works. Several protestant groups believed this, my immediate guess is that those of Amsterdam were the followers of Arminius.

I was working on the assumption that 'there's always one!"

"Basics about Fame: The sayings and reports, that coming and going among mortals become rumours, are spread by Pheme, regarded by some as a messenger of Zeus. This Pheme, whose eyes are never overcome by Sleep, is a swift creature with countless tongues and ears."

I had a feeling there might be a quote like that around somewhere - just not in any of my books! :D

Scheherazade

03-14-2006, 07:17 PM

Where does the word lover appear?It is implied in the poem.
I never said this. Get your facts straight.When you said '2) some legacies...huh? Maybe the I is deciding what part of the I that Love will inherit--which doesn't seem to be much.', it sounded like there is an expectation for him to leave something to his lover; however, in my opinion, this poem is a way for him to air his bitterness so there are no surprises that what she inherits 'doesn't seem to be much'. If my interpretation of what you said is wrong, I am sorry and it would take very little effort on your behalf to clear up this misunderstanding.

I can handle the difference of opinions and I enjoy them because I don't consider my views final. However, what I have problem is the curt language. If one doesn't like their views to be challenged or questioned, they should consider not posting in the threads, the main purpose of which is to discuss various interpretations.
I think that "Love" is Eros, the god of love, who is blind."her" is the disdainful beloved one.
I hadn't considered this possibility till you pointed out; thank you! :)

I agree with the comments that this poem does not carry different meaning, hidden under many layers. However, due to many references like the Schismatics of Amsterdam, it gets a little blurred for me when I try to analyse it line by line. There is no doubt that the persona in the poem is bitter about the way his love has been treated but what I really like about this poem is the way it lets us see his views about the world around him. We know what he thinks of court officials, academics, Catholics etc. If he had gone on about his lady friend for six stanzas, even with similar wit and tongu-in-cheek attitude, I am not sure we would have found it as interesting.

blp

03-14-2006, 07:46 PM

Could you explain what you mean here?

Well, I may have been mouthing off - and I was being a bit frivolous - but I meant a difference between Freedman's supply side economics, designed to benefit business and socialism's wealth redistribution.

Other than that, as I say, I'll get back to you.

Whifflingpin

03-14-2006, 08:13 PM

Scher: "However, due to many references like the Schismatics of Amsterdam, it gets a little blurred for me when I try to analyse it line by line."

Probably teaching a few grandmothers how to suck eggs, but:

"constancy I to the planets give" Planets were known in Donne's time as "wandering stars," hence inconstant, as opposed to the true fixed stars that kept their appointed places in the zodiac.

Jesuits, to Englishmen, were a byword for deviousness and guile.

Capuchin, a monk of a strict order, vowed to poverty.

Roman Catholics considered Donne's faith, that of the Church of England, to be heretical. (So here he is commenting on what Catholics think about his faith, not what he thinks about theirs. They count his faith indignity, i.e. to be of no worth)

Schismatics of Amsterdam: I've checked my guess, and Arminius was indeed pastor of Amsterdam, prior to becoming a professor at Leyden.

Schoolmen: those who engaged in theological disputes.

Bedlam: Bethlehem Hospital, an institution for the insane.

**

I particularly enjoyed the line "my sickness to physicians." At first this may seem reasonable, for cure? or research? Oh no, because they actually, like excess, cause sickness in the first place.

I also enjoyed the grouping of some ideas within stanzas, not just by the theme of the stanza. For example, the mythological characters, Love, Argus, Fame, all appear in stanza 1; as do the bequests of eyes, tongue, ears and tears. So in other stanzas, there is some link between the bequests, and a deliberate similarity or contrast between the recipients. Not, I would say, in a forced way, so not everything fits into such a pattern, but enough to tighten the poem.

ktd222

03-14-2006, 09:04 PM

Unnamable,

he is continuing his dig at the woman

No need to retort.
I can't write down what I've observed any clearer. We both see past the obvious to the interaction of the I with Love and the her--this is the level of layering I see just as you do. I'm sorry if you can't follow my denotations; And I'm sorry if my interpretations of the questions I brought up are different from yours. Did you teach this poem to your students? ;)

How many books of poetry interpretation do you have professor Unnamable?

ktd222

03-14-2006, 09:23 PM

Sher,

however, in my opinion, this poem is a way for him to air his bitterness so there are no surprises that what she inherits 'doesn't seem to be much'.

and I agree with this sense as well.

However, what I have problem is the curt language. If one doesn't like their views to be challenged or questioned, they should consider not posting in the threads, the main purpose of which is to discuss various interpretations.

Ya, sorry about my rudeness.

The Unnamable

03-14-2006, 10:43 PM

I'm not the sharpest critic and never claim to be, but that's all I see there.
Funny that - in my humble opinion, your reading is the one that most accurately reveals what’s there. – “It is a satirical dig at a woman, dressed up in a parody of a will;”

I'm sorry if you can't follow my denotations;
It’s not your denotations I have a problem with – it’s your detonations. ;)

Petrarch's Love

03-15-2006, 12:03 AM

Petrarch, you seem to have access to resources the rest of us can only dream of. Is the semi-colon in line 6 of the first stanza correct? All the online versions I’ve looked at have a semi-colon. Can you (or anyone else) tell me why it isn’t a colon? Each subsequent stanza has a colon at the end of the corresponding line and that makes more sense to me.

For a number of reasons I'm absolutely too exhausted to do any sort of critcal analysis whatsoever at the moment, so I'll post actual thoughts on this poem later. Maybe tomorrow. I saw the above, however and figured I wasn't too beat for a little research.

Unnamable--as you may know, broaching the topic of Renaissance grammer is opening a whole world of confusion. Neither grammer nor spelling were well regulated during Donne's era, and Donne in particular was a poet whose verse was published almost entirely posthumously and therefore he had little to no influence about the punctuation of his poetry (unlike Ben Jonson, say, who was deeply interested in grammer and down at the presses all the time making sure what he wrote was set down just as he wanted). With that in mind, I've made a transcription below of the original 1633 publication of this poem with the grammar and spelling as it appears there. I hope it may be of interest (I wish I could reproduce the original here). The short answer to your question is that it is often a mystery to me why some seventeenth century printers would chose a colon over a semi-colon (or, as you can see, a period rather than a colon). There may be a better explanation out there, but in my experience it seems as though this were often entirely up to the whim of the typesetter.

The Will.

Before I sigh my last gaspe, let me breath,
Great love, some Lagacies; Here I bequeath
Mine eyes to Argus,if mine eyes can see,
If they be blinde, then Love, I give them thee;
My tongue to Fame; to'Embassadours mine eares;
To women or the sea, my teares;
Thou, Love, hast taught mee heretofore
By making mee serve her who'had twenty more,
That I should give to none, but such, as had too much
(before.

My constancie I to the planets give,
My truth to them, who at the Court doe life;
Mine ingenuity and opennesse,
To Jesuites; to Buffones my pensivenesse;
My silence to any, who abroad hath beene;
My mony to a Capuehin.
Thou Love taught'st me, by appointing mee
To love there, where no love receiv'd can be,
Onely to give to such as have an incapacitie.

My faith I give to Roman Catholiques;
All my good works unto the Schismaticks
Of Amsterdam; my best civility
And Courtship, to an Universitie;
My modesty I give to souldiers bare;
My patience let gamesters share.
Thou Love taughtst mee, by making mee
Love her that holds my love disparity,
Onely to give to those that count my gifts indignity.

I give my reputation to those
Which were my friends; Mine industrie to foes;
To Schoolemen I bequeath my doubtfulnesse;
My sicknesse to Physitians, or excesse;
To Nature, all that I in Ryme have writ;
And to my company my wit;
Thou love, by making mee adore
Her, who begot this love in mee before,
Taughtst me to make, as though I gave, when I did but restore.

To him for whom the passing bell next tolls,
I give my physick bookes; my writen rowles
Of Morall counsels, I to Bedlamm give;
My brazen medals, unto them which live
In want of bread; to them which passe among
All forrainers, mine English tongue.
Thou, Love, by making mee love one
Who thinkes her friendship a fit portion
For yonger lovers, dost my gifts thus disproportion.

Therefore I'll give no more; But I'll undoe
The world by dying; because love dies too.
Then all your beauties will bee no more worth
Then gold in in Mines, where none doth draw it forth;
And all your graces no more use shall have
Then a Sun dyall in a grave,
Thou Love taughtst mee, by making mee
Love her, who doth neglect both mee and thee,
To invent, and practise this one way, to'annihilate all
(three.

genoveva

03-15-2006, 04:44 AM

THE WILL by John Donne

BEFORE I sigh my last gasp, let me breathe,
Great Love, some legacies ; I here bequeath
Mine eyes to Argus, if mine eyes can see ;
If they be blind, then, Love, I give them thee ;
My tongue to Fame ; to ambassadors mine ears ;
To women, or the sea, my tears ;
Thou, Love, hast taught me heretofore
By making me serve her who had twenty more,
That I should give to none, but such as had too much before.

My constancy I to the planets give ;
My truth to them who at the court do live ;
My ingenuity and openness,
To Jesuits ; to buffoons my pensiveness ;
My silence to any, who abroad hath been ;
My money to a Capuchin :
Thou, Love, taught'st me, by appointing me
To love there, where no love received can be,
Only to give to such as have an incapacity.

My faith I give to Roman Catholics ;
All my good works unto the Schismatics
Of Amsterdam ; my best civility
And courtship to an University ;
My modesty I give to soldiers bare ;
My patience let gamesters share :
Thou, Love, taught'st me, by making me
Love her that holds my love disparity,
Only to give to those that count my gifts indignity.

I give my reputation to those
Which were my friends ; mine industry to foes ;
To schoolmen I bequeath my doubtfulness ;
My sickness to physicians, or excess ;
To nature all that I in rhyme have writ ;
And to my company my wit :
Thou, Love, by making me adore
Her, who begot this love in me before,
Taught'st me to make, as though I gave, when I do but restore.

To him for whom the passing-bell next tolls,
I give my physic books ; my written rolls
Of moral counsels I to Bedlam give ;
My brazen medals unto them which live
In want of bread ; to them which pass among
All foreigners, mine English tongue :
Though, Love, by making me love one
Who thinks her friendship a fit portion
For younger lovers, dost my gifts thus disproportion.

Therefore I'll give no more, but I'll undo
The world by dying, because love dies too.
Then all your beauties will be no more worth
Than gold in mines, where none doth draw it forth ;
And all your graces no more use shall have,
Than a sun-dial in a grave :
Thou, Love, taught'st me by making me
Love her who doth neglect both me and thee,
To invent, and practise this one way, to annihilate all three.

What a nicely written poem. I haven't read Donne for a while, and I was actually, hoping for something a little more romantic from him. Maybe next time.

Anyhow, the discussion here seems to largely revolve around the speaker's "love" for a woman who does not reciprocate it. This is just a tiny bit of the poem, and not at all what the poem is mainly about. It is, exactly as the title suggests, "The Will". This is the speaker's last will and testament. He is giving away all the above listed things, and in the poem he lists who gets what.

The Unnamable

03-15-2006, 07:11 AM

I hadn't considered this possibility till you pointed out; thank you!
You could have read my comment directly above the one that helped you and you’d have considered it six minutes earlier. :lol: (Whifflingpin, this is not in any way meant as a criticism). It makes exactly the same point. Eros and Cupid are one and the same. Cupid is the Roman equivalent of the Greek Eros.

Donne in particular was a poet whose verse was published almost entirely posthumously and therefore he had little to no influence about the punctuation of his poetry.
This supports my earlier comment about Donne writing to make his mates laugh. They were his main audience when he wrote. I consider this relevant. He was a very clever sod and kept his friends amused with coruscating displays of that cleverness. I might have said it elsewhere on this forum but the woman in Donne’s poetry seldom exists as a significant entity in her own right. I get a very clear sense of Donne being the one who does all the thinking – the woman simply has to be the object of his thoughts and feelings.

Another of my tutors was a colleague of the unprepossessing Dame Helen Gardner – who was considered something of a Donne specialist (she edited the Penguin edition to the Metaphysical Poets mentioned above). I met her only once and disliked her almost as much as many on here dislike me (and probably for similar reasons – she was too clever for me :D ). She said that Donne was a good choice for a set text poet at A Level (post-sixteen level) as he really sorts out the wheat from the chaff. Mind you, she might just have been plugging her book.

With that in mind, I've made a transcription below of the original 1633 publication of this poem with the grammar and spelling as it appears there. I hope it may be of interest.

It’s of interest to me, so thanks – greatly appreciated. There are a few noteworthy things – the first version posted has ‘though’ instead of ‘thou’ in the penultimate stanza. The version you have posted restores ‘thou’, which makes more sense. The rest can be used to show that the actual structure of the poem is a more useful guide to understanding than the punctuation. I was aware of the grammar and punctuation minefield you mention and was hoping you’d have access to early copies – like the one you posted. It’s good to see that not everybody lets me down. ;) My question therefore was more about why modern editors have punctuated it the way they have – but I wanted to check first if it was simply an ‘error’ in transcription.

Did you teach this poem to your students?
No – I taught better ones by Donne. I don’t think I’d read that poem for over twenty years until I saw it here again.

How many books of poetry interpretation do you have professor Unnamable?
I’ve no idea – hardly any on Donne and none with me here in Asia. Besides, ownership of books is less important than understanding of them. Are you trying to suggest that I rely on such books for my insights? If so, may I ask if you have any books?

This is just a tiny bit of the poem, and not at all what the poem is mainly about.
I disagree. The whole thrust and structure of the poem reinforces the complaint he has- that she doesn’t return his love. Would you say that it’s a poem about love at all? Perhaps Helen Gardner should have only included it in her book of poetry about wills?

It is, exactly as the title suggests, "The Will".
Is The Relic, exactly as the title suggests, about a relic? Is Twicknam Garden, exactly as the title suggests, about a garden in ‘Twicknam’? ‘Donne’s Poetry – does exactly what it says on the tin.’ Don’t you think that’s a tad too literal?

This is the speaker's last will and testament.
I thought it was a poem.

He is giving away all the above listed things, and in the poem he lists who gets what.
So, is it merely a coincidence that in listing those things he is compiling a barrage of complaints that are used to make clear that he is wasting his time with her? I agree that they are amusing in their own right but he has ended each stanza with an explicit explanation of the significance of his bequests. Should we simply overlook this?

In 54 lines, Love is mentioned 17 times and adore once. I wonder if Donne realised that.

PS Is there any similarity between Donne’s lines:

“And all your graces no more use shall have,
Than a sun-dial in a grave:”

and Andrew Marvell’s

“The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.”?

Scheherazade

03-15-2006, 01:04 PM

Probably teaching a few grandmothers how to suck eggs, but:

"constancy I to the planets give" Planets were known in Donne's time as "wandering stars," hence inconstant, as opposed to the true fixed stars that kept their appointed places in the zodiac.

Jesuits, to Englishmen, were a byword for deviousness and guile.

Capuchin, a monk of a strict order, vowed to poverty.

Roman Catholics considered Donne's faith, that of the Church of England, to be heretical. (So here he is commenting on what Catholics think about his faith, not what he thinks about theirs. They count his faith indignity, i.e. to be of no worth)

Schismatics of Amsterdam: I've checked my guess, and Arminius was indeed pastor of Amsterdam, prior to becoming a professor at Leyden.

Schoolmen: those who engaged in theological disputes.

Bedlam: Bethlehem Hospital, an institution for the insane.Thanks for taking the time to provide this list, Whiffling! :)

I agree with you that the careful way things are grouped in the poem is very nice. The second stanza is my favorite: 'to buffoons my pensiveness'! :D

genoveva> I agree with you that the poem lets us see how Donne felt about various things/people but I think its main aim is to criticise his lady friend and her attitude towards love. His commentary on the others make the poem fun and interesting to read but do you think he would have written it at all if it weren't for the Lady?

genoveva

03-15-2006, 04:55 PM

The woman has already had twenty lovers to serve her.

Or, perhaps, has twenty other lovers. Could his muse be a prostitute?

Petrarch's Love

03-15-2006, 04:56 PM

My! I'm amazed at the amount of discussion that's been produced out of this poem. Forgive me if I accidently repeat anything that's been covered elsewhere. I've tried to read over all the thread but I may have missed some things. Here are a few comments that came to mind right off:

It seems as though no one has explicitly commented on the way in this poem Donne is playing off the conventions of love poetry in the period. Each stanza ends with the same three line formula, revealing the significance of that stanza's contents, and in which he describes what it is that Love has taught him and how he is then applying that to situations other than love. In the first stanza, for example, he has served a mistress who has many lovers, making him superflous. He facetiously applies this lesson Love taught him about giving what someone has too much of to other situations like giving eyes to argus. The next stanza's lesson is about offering gifts where they won't be welcome, learned from the situation of the unrequited lover but applied to bringing money to a Capuchin (who's vowed poverty). Of course along the way he uses his examples satirically as with the dig implying that women have too many tears, or that the court won't welcome truth.

By the end of the poem he's built up to the ultimate satircal moment in taking the lessons of love literally, by saying that he's going to up and die. The conceit in love poetry is that the lover is dying from his devotion to his love, but he's going to apply it to a real situation by actually dying. This brings us back to the pretence of writing the poem in the first place, making his will. It also is an opportunity to get back at love and his mistress (who can be somewhat equated with love, since she is the one who actually taught him love's lessons). I think the line about the sun-dial demonstrates the turn he is making very nicely. It's a bit tricky when you first read it because the speaker is supposed to be the one in the grave because he's dead. During life while under the spell of love/the mistress, he was like the sundial, moving according to his mistress (the sun, according to common poetic conceit). So at first glance it seems as though the sun dial should refer to the dead poet. Yet the actuall comparison being made is between her graces and the sun dial. The import of the metaphor is that her graces are no longer effective, but in fact become buried with him. It's a neat little flip, because it also, by implication, repositions him as the sun which the sun dial needs to fulfill it's purpose. He's now getting the last laugh. Death conquers all.

genoveva

03-15-2006, 05:02 PM

do you think he would have written it at all if it weren't for the Lady?

You're right. After re-reading it this morning, it is obvious that this woman's lack of returning his "love" is the reason for the speaker's lamentation. And yes, I agree, if the whole poem focused on the woman it probably wouldn't be as entertaining.

blp

03-16-2006, 02:34 PM

Could you explain what you mean here?

Er...I can't go on, no.

I'll go on: like some bifurcated aboriginal, I went off half-cocked, reading in haste, commenting in haste. It does provoke broader thoughts in me on the ironies of giving to people who don't need, don't want or can't use - something that seems to happen a lot. But I can see now the poem's not really about this.

Petrarch's Love

03-16-2006, 03:04 PM

My question therefore was more about why modern editors have punctuated it the way they have – but I wanted to check first if it was simply an ‘error’ in transcription.

Your question about the method behind the madness of modern editors prompted me to make a comparison of the seven 17th century editions of this poem available in facsimile through EEBO (I adore this resource! I wish it could be made universally accessible), since modern editors often are following a particular edition of the poem that they feel is most accurate. In this case, the modern editor seems to be following his/her own judgement more than following a single original text, since none of the punctuation and word choice of the 17th century texts really follows what is shown here. For example, the "though" you pointed to in stanza five is a "thou" in all the 17th century editions of the poem. I have no idea what the logic behind that change would be unless it's just a typo.

I did find that Donne's Early Modern editors made just as little sense, however. They change spelling and grammar all over the place from one edition to another. The 1649 edition puts colons in place of semi-colons just about anywhere possible, and the 1669 edition (the latest of those I consulted) actually changes the wording in the final line of stanza 2 from "such as have an incapacity" to read "such as have no good capacity." I'd love to know why, especially as this is after six previous editions when one doubts they had to rely on oral transmition or faulty memory to reproduce the poem. The most interesting change between the editions however, is the order of the poems. The first edition (1633) very piously groups all the religious poetry at the front and pushes the erotic/love poetry as far back as possible, while subsequent editions put the racy stuff up front :brow:. I guess they figured out what sells.

Gringoire

03-17-2006, 05:32 AM

I grew up hearing this poem from my parents (translated, not in English) and well before I knew who Poe was, I had learnt it by heart. And when I read it in English at university, I was over the moon!

The pure, naive love in the poem and sadness of it, without being soppy, touches my heart every time I read it.

And I learnt what 'sepulchre' means while reading this poem.

Did you know that this is the last poem Poe wrote?

I didn't know that!
This has to be my favourite of Poe's poems as well.
Dark, and a longing that will never be met. It has the feel of Michael Crawford's phantom from "Phantom of the Opera".

Gringoire

03-18-2006, 06:21 PM

Last week, Jay and I spent over an hour discussing this poem and would like to hear your interpretations too... Not necessarily what you studied and were told it meant at school but your own thoughts and feelings about the poem.

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evenings full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear the lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

-- William Butler Yeats

I don't really have anything to add, just that I have never heard this poem before.
Absolutely stunning!
Gringoire

Virgil

03-18-2006, 07:36 PM

I don't really have anything to add, just that I have never heard this poem before.
Absolutely stunning!
Gringoire
Gringoire, you will find that William Butler Yeats has many poems that are absolutely stunning.

rachel

03-19-2006, 01:41 PM

that does not surprise me that you like Arthurian tales which I love. all true babymen love them, it is part of the romantic that is always pushing its way up past the hip, now, modern sophisticated man that doesn't need that sort of thing in his mind or heart.

Gringoire

03-19-2006, 07:57 PM

Gringoire, you will find that William Butler Yeats has many poems that are absolutely stunning.

Thank you! I'll be sure to check more of him out!

blp

03-20-2006, 09:37 AM

Time for another poem. Don't all rush at once.

Riesa

03-20-2006, 09:44 AM

Where's ktd222's doozy?

blp

03-20-2006, 12:54 PM

That's what I was wondering.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-20-2006, 01:12 PM

If nobody else is going to bother. How's about taking a stab at this Ted Hughes Poem?

Crow Tyrannosaurus

Creation quaked voices--
It was a cortege
Of mourning and lament
Crow could hear and he looked around fearfully.

The swift's body fled past
Pulsating
With insects
And their anguish, all it had eaten.
The cat's body writhed
Gagging
A tunnel
Of incoming death-struggles, sorrow on sorrow.

And the dog was a bulging filterbag
Of all the deaths it had gulped for the flesh and the bones.
It could not digest their screeching finales.
Its shapeless cry was a blort of all those voices.

Even man when he is walking
Abattoir
Of innocents--
His brain incinerating their outcry.

Crow thought 'Alas
Alas ought I
To stop eating
And try to become the light?'

But his eye saw a grub. And his head, trapsprung, stabbed.
And he listened
And he heard
Weeping

Grubs grubs He stabbed he stabbed
Weeping
Weeping

Weeping he walked and stabbed
Thus came the eye's

roundness
the ear's

deafness.

Ted Hughes

blp

03-20-2006, 01:32 PM

The title takes the point of view of the grubs.

Virgil

03-20-2006, 10:29 PM

If nobody else is going to bother. How's about taking a stab at this Ted Hughes Poem?
Oh, great, XC. I'll read it and comment on it this week. I have the Hughs "Crow" poems somewhere. I don't remember this one.

genoveva

03-20-2006, 11:49 PM

What a gruesome image this poem conjurs up! I don't remember any of Ted Hughes's poems. I tried to read some of his stuff after discovering Sylvia Plath, but his poetry just didn't appeal to me then. Maybe I should try again.

tn2743

03-21-2006, 02:25 AM

Is this poem about a crow eating a body?

The Unnamable

03-21-2006, 07:02 AM

Is this poem about a crow eating a body?
Not quite. Crow (not just a crow) sees three animals passing – a swift, a cat and a dog. They have all feasted on creatures they have killed. Crow also considers Man (‘a walking/ Abattoir’) and sees the same thing he sees in the animals mentioned – a creature that must kill to survive. Crow is also aware that he himself is no different and he appears to feel some hesitation in continuing with his killing. ‘Alas’ suggests his sense of regret at being a creature that kills to survive:

“ought I
To stop eating
And try to become the light?”

However, even as he considers this, instinct takes over and “his head, trapsprung, stabbed.” He even weeps as he is killing the grubs but he is not able to desist from killing them. His own life is only sustained through such acts.

The difficult part is the ending:

“Thus came the eye's
roundness
the ear's
deafness.”

Any suggestions before I offer my own?

Even by Hughes’ standards, this is quite a dark poem.

tn2743

03-21-2006, 07:06 AM

Wow. Thank you Unamable for the explanation. Please offer your suggestions.

The Unnamable

03-21-2006, 07:08 AM

I will later - give others an opportunity to say what they think first.

tn2743

03-21-2006, 07:09 AM

Maybe it was that he was eating and stabbing, and weeping at the same time. So his eyes are wide open from his own violence and cruelty, his soul acknowledging them, but his ears are deaf as to his own weeping...?

The Unnamable

03-21-2006, 07:13 AM

I’d go along with this – I think that the ‘deafness’ is vital to survival – Crow (and by implication, humans?) must simply ignore the suffering caused by killing for food.

blp

03-21-2006, 07:57 AM

The end seems to me to be foreshadowed in the line about man's 'brain incinerating their [those he has eaten's] outcry'.

I was confused a bit by the round eyes since I took the end to be a description of denial and would have expected closed eyes to go with deaf ears. But on reflection, I think people I take to be in denial do have a way of staring fixedly with widened eyes while being deaf to the subjects they can't face.

The Unnamable

03-21-2006, 09:27 AM

The end seems to me to be foreshadowed in the line about man's 'brain incinerating their [those he has eaten's] outcry'.
It’s hard to read the word ‘incinerating’ in a poem like this without thinking of the literal incineration of the Holocaust. Interestingly, when Hughes is referring to Man, he uses the word ‘Abattoir’ – so it’s not just killing for immediate appeasing of hunger but mass, mechanised killing. He also chooses the word, ‘innocents’, which is different from when he mentioned the ‘victims’ of the other predators. There appears to be a hierarchy. At first the prey is merely ‘insects’. The cat’s is described as ‘incoming death-struggles’. The dog’s sounds more human – “their screeching finales”. By the time we get to Man, the prey is ‘innocents’. This pattern is also repeated in the food chain.

Crow can’t stop himself from weeping at those he eats any more than he can stop eating them; – that word ‘trapsrung’ is a good one to suggest the way that instinct sets off the trap in a moment. Man doesn’t seem to weep so much as try to obliterate the cries of those who would cause him to weep. So even though Crow seems human, there are some significant differences. The more I think about this poem, the darker it gets. Perhaps man’s murderous cruelty is the same instinct that exists in all creatures that kill, only at a more chronologically advanced stage of evolution. No wonder Sylvia killed herself - living with a bloke like that.

I was confused a bit by the round eyes since I took the end to be a description of denial and would have expected closed eyes to go with deaf ears. But on reflection, I think people I take to be in denial do have a way of staring fixedly with widened eyes while being deaf to the subjects they can't face.
Is anyone/anything in denial in the poem?

blp

03-21-2006, 10:48 AM

Is anyone/anything in denial in the poem?

Well, while I was put in mind of the holocaust by 'incinerating' too, what's incinerated is the innocents' outcry. After that, crow is described as 'listening and hearing' weeping as he eats the grubs - the weeping of the grubs, which then becomes crow's weeping. This is said to result in the eyes' roundness and the ears' deafness. I'm not insisting on the denial reading, but why do you think this happens? It seemed to me the deafness was in response to the outcry and the weeping - sounds that couldn't be born and the pain of which couldn't be assuaged by more weeping.

Meanwhile, ever since I read the poem, I've had the walrus and the carpenter's oyster feast at the back of my mind:

'I weep for you," the Walrus said:
'I deeply sympathize.'
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

I also keep thinking of a line from Shakespeare about, I think, even the smallest beatle feeling the death of one of its fellows as keenly as we feel the death of one of ours. Don't suppose you know what I mean. That's the nearest I can remember.

The Unnamable

03-21-2006, 01:08 PM

First of all my question was simply that – a question. I wasn’t asking in order to challenge your reading. I read what you wrote in that last paragraph above and wondered what you had in mind when you said, “being deaf to the subjects they can't face.” This made me wonder if you saw the poem in terms of someone not wanting to face the consequences of his or her own actions.

Well, while I was put in mind of the holocaust by 'incinerating' too, what's incinerated is the innocents' outcry.
I’m not sure I understand the distinction here. I know the line isn’t literal, which is why I included that word above. The fact that it is the ‘outcry’ and not the victims themselves that is incinerated makes the act worse. The thing that is actually being burned away to nothing is the impact of the agony of the sufferers, not the actual sufferers or even their agony. By using the word ‘incinerated’, the Holocaust can be suggested while the primary meaning remains intact. Hughes, like most good poets, can make his words do a great deal of work.

After that, crow is described as 'listening and hearing' weeping as he eats the grubs - the weeping of the grubs, which then becomes crow's weeping. This is said to result in the eyes' roundness and the ears' deafness. I'm not insisting on the denial reading, but why do you think this happens?
Why do I think what happens? I think I need to understand more clearly the way that ‘Thus’ is being used here. Does it relate solely to the story of Crow and his weeping grubs or to the whole pattern of killing as necessity that the poem has outlined? The last four lines seem to serve almost as a comment on the whole evolutionary process.

Part of what makes it less than straightforward is that the two parts aren’t symmetrical – he doesn’t make the eye’s ‘blindness’ balance with the ear’s ‘deafness’. As the issue with which he’s dealing is far less than straightforward, there is no reason why he should make things simpler. Perhaps he’s using the eye primarily for its sensory qualities in enabling predators to secure prey and the ear more in a figurative sense – deafness being a metaphoric rather than a literal deafness. He could have done it the other way – ‘blindness’ is often used to denote a ‘spiritual’ rather than physical lack of sight and a bat's ear is one of the wonders of evolution.

“Weeping he walked and stabbed” suggests the nature of Crow’s dilemma. He simply goes on both weeping and stabbing. This is how Evolution has created us. If we go back to the hierarchy I mentioned, then we can see that the means of killing becomes increasingly violent and on a larger scale. Correspondingly, our awareness of the prey’s suffering increases. The position for Man, therefore, is that he is at a stage of Evolution where he is the most efficient predator, can cause the most widespread pain and suffering and also has the ability to see and feel the torment he causes more vividly than any other creature. So the eyes’ roundness would be emphasising the miraculous aspects of the evolutionary process – the development of this fantastically impressive organ of sight - and the ear’s deafness the only way we can compensate for what our animal instincts make us do.

It seemed to me the deafness was in response to the outcry and the weeping –
Do you mean by this that deafness is necessary? Crow has a certain degree of ‘deafness’ in the sense that he might hear the suffering but he continues to cause it. He needs enough deafness to continue to kill. Man’s needs here are more complex. Perhaps he is as unable as Crow to stop killing but his greater awareness makes the subsequent suffering unbearable, so he becomes deaf to it. For me, the horrible suggestion is that this isn’t a moral choice but a way of dealing with instincts we have no way of eradicating.

sounds that couldn't be born and the pain of which couldn't be assuaged by more weeping.
I’m not sure that the weeping serves any role in assuaging. It’s simply the necessary corollary of killing: “Weeping he walked and stabbed” – that’s life.

Meanwhile, ever since I read the poem, I've had the walrus and the carpenter's oyster feast at the back of my mind:

'I weep for you," the Walrus said:
'I deeply sympathize.'
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
I can see why. I’m sure Hughes would have known that poem so why not? It seems relevant.

I also keep thinking of a line from Shakespeare about, I think, even the smallest beatle feeling the death of one of its fellows as keenly as we feel the death of one of ours. Don't suppose you know what I mean. That's the nearest I can remember.
Nothing comes to mind yet.

blp

03-21-2006, 02:00 PM

First of all my question was simply that – a question. I wasn’t asking in order to challenge your reading. I read what you wrote in that last paragraph above and wondered what you had in mind when you said, “being deaf to the subjects they can't face.” This made me wonder if you saw the poem in terms of someone not wanting to face the consequences of his or her own actions.

My questions were simply questions too. From the start I wasn't sure about the denial reading, though I'm warming to it. In a way, I see the whole poem as a temporary eruption of the truth of daily killing out of its usual denial - an eruption that will subside back into denial equally quickly. The description of carnivorous bodies as containers of death is probably not the one most of us go around perceiving most of the time. To be a bit pedantic, I wouldn't say it's about facing consequences - the consequence of killing for the carnivores described is simply to be able to stay alive. It's more about facing the unpleasantness of this necessary act.

I’m not sure I understand the distinction here. I know the line isn’t literal, which is why I included that word above. The fact that it is the ‘outcry’ and not the victims themselves that is incinerated makes the act worse. The thing that is actually being burned away to nothing is the impact of the agony of the sufferers, not the actual sufferers or even their agony. By using the word ‘incinerated’, the Holocaust can be suggested while the primary meaning remains intact. Hughes, like most good poets, can make his words do a great deal of work.

Sure, all good. I'm just positing that one of the jobs being done here is the suggestion that, in destroying the audible distress of the innocents, mankind denies the suffering. The deaf ears at the end seemed to me to be part of the same process.

Why do I think what happens? I think I need to understand more clearly the way that ‘Thus’ is being used here. Does it relate solely to the story of Crow and his weeping grubs or to the whole pattern of killing as necessity that the poem has outlined?

Sorry if I wasn't clear. I meant, why does the weeping turn to round eyes and deaf ears. To me it seemed that this condition must be what eventually replaced the weeping.

I agree that the 'Thus' is tricky, but I think that, rather as Crow is neither humankind nor an ordinary crow, the 'Thus' can refer both to him and to humankind.

The last four lines seem to serve almost as a comment on the whole evolutionary process.

How so?

Part of what makes it less than straightforward is that the two parts aren’t symmetrical – he doesn’t make the eye’s ‘blindness’ balance with the ear’s ‘deafness’. As the issue with which he’s dealing is far less than straightforward, there is no reason why he should make things simpler.

No, definitely. Anyway, I think by not doing so, specifically in regard to this question of symmetry, he gives us a lot more to chew over.

For me, the horrible suggestion is that this isn’t a moral choice but a way of dealing with instincts we have no way of eradicating.
That's pretty much what I had in mind in talking about denial. I also think there's a suggestion of frozenness about the final description that makes the deaf ears and round eyes tally. The awful irony would be that, in freezing out the truth of our destructive behavior and its necessity for keeping us alive, we become partially dead.

I’m not sure that the weeping serves any role in assuaging. It’s simply the necessary corollary of killing: “Weeping he walked and stabbed” – that’s life.
Ah, perhaps we're diverging a little again. My point is that the weeping is not the condition of life, it's a temporary awakening to something we can't bear most of the time. The awareness of all this destruction, or the weeping it engenders perhaps, is too much and we end by freezing it out.

tn2743

03-21-2006, 04:08 PM

I was wondering: who is Crow Tyrannosaurus, if he is not man? Evolution has not created a creature that is higher than man in the food chain, yet Crow is watching over everything even man himself. And, as Unamable said, there is a clear distingtion between man and Crow. Perhaps Crow represents Evolution itself, or God? The phrase "be the Light" kind of reminds me of the Bible.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-21-2006, 05:42 PM

Here's (http://www.teachit.co.uk/pdf/crowkmah.pdf) an interesting article I found while looking for a full text of the poem online (I didn't fancy copying the whole thing out by hand). It provides a bit of background on the Crow poems as a whole but alas no insight into the "round eye / deaf ear" dichotomy, which I must admit has always baffled me.

I nearly posted "Crow's account of St George" btw. Now that really is dark, by anyone's standards.

tn2743

03-21-2006, 06:12 PM

It's all clear now. Thanks. I should have done a little research of my own before asking questions. So this poem has more to do with religion than Evolution.

Although I don't like the idea that Crow is neither good nor evil, but is responsible for both. This does not distinguish Crow from man, because that is what man is. It is the presence of evil that separates God and man, not the lack of good. Crow should have been chosen as the representitive of man, in this light, and not as someone who observes man.

Furthermore, the analysis on this page doesn't seem to focus on eating. I agree with Unamable that this poem is about the need to eat to survive. The Tyrannosaurus is a famous predator. So maybe Crow only represents this particular need of man, and this poem is strictly about ...well, eating.

chmpman

03-21-2006, 06:24 PM

I think that the word "Tyrannosaurus" in the title may be used in it's literal meaning "great lizard". I contrast this reptilian image to whatever it is that gains the rounded eyes. I see a level of evolution here but I need more time to sift through my ideas.

jackyyyy

03-21-2006, 09:15 PM

I enjoyed this poem. I imagined it was similar to 'Crow' the film, but after reading it, I was left thinking more of Darwin than the Devil. Crow has been popularized in his never ending mission to 'stop himself', kind of like a seriously failed chain smoker, or more like a chain murderer. Having read Poe and others, it makes similar chills, however, not the same way. When Men eat Men, I cringe, when Men eat meat, I don't. Thats just how I am.

The film depicts Crow 'decided' between Good and Evil, its not a debate in his head as he goes at it. In this poem he is decided, however it shows me nothing of evil, and instead, Crow's mental struggle with existence. And, we are no different, as we bite on our McDonalds. We cannot face it was once moving, we forget, or we throw up.

I will sway a bit on one part. The only line I saw (correct me here) where he infers some other 'force' is:

To stop eating
And try to become the light?'
What is the light?

Crow is to grub, as Tyrannosaurus is to plant-eating dinosaurs. He must eat to survive, and he must feed his young, else why does he exist, he asks himself. To not, would mean to cease to exist, and how did he arrive to be created except by this acceptance of eating that which is less than him.

He is fearful because he knows he is a grub to his larger brother.

The swift's body fled past
Pulsating With insects
It catches them in the air.

The cat gagging on its victim
A cat appears to choke as it swallows, the live food still struggling.

The dog...

And finally man...

Even man when he is walking

When man is walking, he is seeking food.

His brain incinerating their outcry.
Crow thought 'Alas
Alas ought I
To stop eating
And try to become the light?'

The brain is blocking out what it cannot handle.

I am asking myself why he has a conscience, because he is doing what he only can, and food eats food, and he is the next food. Crow is gripped with absolute terror, until he eats. I think this is when he finds an actual moment of relief. Those eyes round with hardened fear, and tears make the eyes wide and round, and the ears are deafened - switched off. It conjures up images of soldiers ordered to kill or be killed, or face hanging for desertion, no choice.

And with no choice, its manslaughter - innocent predators?

tn2743

03-21-2006, 09:54 PM

Crow Tyrannosaurus is not food, neither is man. At least they are not killed to become food of another predator (unless Crow eats man) - he is never a victim. It is the killing that is focused on here. Crow does not fear or weep the fact that "he is grub to his larger brother"; he weeps only the outcry of the innocents that he is stabbing in order to eat.

"It conjures up images of soldiers ordered to kill or be killed, or face hanging for desertion, no choice."
I don't think Crow Tyrannosaurus fears anything. He is a ruthless predator with a conscience, which never prevails over his killing instinct. Many soldiers would choose not to kill. Many people eat plants. Crow's conscience is not man's.

"The swift's body fled past
Pulsating With insects "

- I don't think this means necessarily that the swift catches the insects in the air.

Virgil

03-21-2006, 10:00 PM

I see I'm late to this discussion. Kudos to all who have contributed; I think everyone has added to the understanding of this poem: the ravenous appetite of animals to survive, the association with man and his moral nature, and the linking between evolution and a spiritual dimension. I think it's all in there. I think one thing we should keep in mind, and which that article suggests, is that the Crow poems are set in a context of a particular collection, and so, while one can read them individually, may cross link with other poems in the collection.An interesting observation, and it is only that because Hughes could not have possibly known at the time, is that birds, we now know as of a only a few years, are the direct descendants of dinosuars. Birds are living dinosuars; crow really is tyrannosaurus! As I re-read during the rest of the week this poem perhaps I can contribute more.

The Unnamable

03-22-2006, 10:34 AM

How so?

I don’t know if I can explain this but I’ll have a go.

Hughes has set up a series of examples of predation but the hierarchy is significant. Each time we sort of go up a level, both in terms of the food chain position of the predator and in terms of the prey’s capacity to move us. The prey is also ‘evolving’ – the killing becomes increasingly unacceptable. I don’t have any hesitation killing an insect, especially a mosquito. Hughes mentions their ‘anguish’ but what is the anguish of a gnat? Then we have ‘incoming death-struggles’, which is not a pleasant phrase but it keeps the prey abstract. Worse though, is the way the dog’s prey is described. It’s still not human but it is capable of screeching and now has a voice. What does ‘blort’ suggest? A blended blurting out of lots of cries of pain? The killing certainly sounds more brutal each time. Man’s prey is ‘innocents’. The difference now is that the prey is seen in exclusively moral terms (at first, then that word ‘incinerating’ appears and you are reminded of what a phrase like ‘slaughter of the innocents’ actually entails). So, as the evolutionary process runs its course, we reach a stage where there is a moral dimension to killing. Really though, this might be no different from the bird and the insect. The pattern is the same -the killing remains constant; what changes is the nature of the killing and the fact that we now have concepts of right and wrong.

If we take ‘Thus’ to refer to the whole process that has gone before, then those last four lines can sum up the end result of that process. As a result of the predation arms race, the weapons become more efficient and the most efficient weapon of all is man’s sight in both the physical sense and in the sense of what he is capable of ‘seeing’. (Doesn’t most of our perception of the world come via the sense of sight?) The eye’s roundness would suggest a sense of fullness – as if the predatory efficiency of Man is almost the pinnacle of the evolutionary process. Roundness conveys a sense of completion and perfection. The ear becoming deaf is a necessary part of that same evolutionary process. Killing is a part of what sustains us and so we develop a deafness to that fact. We have to –it’s concomitant with the development of our intelligence. That’s what enables us to remain at the pinnacle.

This is not a pleasant thought and one that can be used to justify acceptance of any mass atrocity. Perhaps this is why some critics have pretty much accused Hughes of being a fascist. Interestingly, Sylvia Plath describes Hughes in Daddy as:

“A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.”

This is the image I have of him most of the time. I still like a lot of his stuff, though.

blp

03-22-2006, 03:19 PM

How interesting. I've just re-read Daddy and seen what you're talking about - Hughes as the 'model' she makes of her Daddy, to whom she says, 'I do'. I can't believe I never noticed this before.

Still, whatever his personal behaviour, I think it's unfair - I know you're not saying this yourself - to accuse Hughes of making an argument for fascism here. Pointing out the tragic inevitability of some killing doesn't automatically translate into justifying all brutal and murderous oppression.

There's still something a little contradictory in this interpretation of the deafness - though it may be a contradiction that's in the poem. On the one hand, there's a suggestion that with humankind's superior killing ability comes a superior awareness of the victims' suffering. You're saying that the deafness to that suffering is what allows the position of superiority to be maintained. I see it slightly differently - and, so far, I've taken the poem as seeing it differently too - a description of a predicament, humankind's intensely discomfitting duality, superior in that it's aware of its own destructiveness but, mostly, unable to face up to it, hence self deafened, but not really to any practical end at all.

jackyyyy

03-22-2006, 04:19 PM

a description of a predicament

I agree with this from BLP.

However,I don't see how Humankind is being singled out as different in the food chain. Is it right or wrong to eat?

We seem to be focused on certain words/expressions, as giving out clues that we need to unravel. To me it follows a logical sequence, the first word is "Creation".

Incinerate - to destroy, leaving least trace.

Blort - a full stomach exhort, like a gas emission. Some animals never stop eating, and they just puke it up.

Round eyes - have you ever been hyper alert, and then in this state for days - like after a car accident? I see Crow's whole life in this state. The deer, as its been chased for its life by the lion, has very large eyes.

I haven't read 'Daddy', but I already think Ted Hughes has a very "Cold Eye".

I will read it again in 24 hours, I am not seeing something.

blp

03-22-2006, 07:32 PM

However,I don't see how Humankind is being singled out as different in the food chain.

Well, humans eat 'innocents' and incinerate their outcry. They're aware of inflicting pain where the other animals are probably not, but they deny it. Isn't that different?

Is it right or wrong to eat? Right or wrong hardly seems to be the point. Necessary but horrific seems to be the point.

I think you alluded earlier to the possibility of vegetarianism, jackyyy. I can't help feeling this is a sort of lacuna in the poem - and it makes me a little more receptive to the fascism argument, as if Hughes is making a very selective argument that humankind is inherently destructive, using the example of meat eating as if it's all encompassing, in denial himself about the option taken by many of not eating meat. Why in denial? Well, if you buy the fascism argument, perhaps because it suits his purposes to insist that human beings are locked into a struggle for domination whether they like it or not - which might be true, but the argument isn't quite made here.

jackyyyy

03-22-2006, 08:55 PM

Crow could have tried to become the light, a vegetarian. Maybe this was not an option for Hughes, as he was intending something else. Certainly, refusing to eat was not an option. Here is where I really think he was heading:

With whose perspective is it horrific... since man can predate man, a lion can predate man, a disease can predate man (even without a brain). And top of the food tree is Creation, which is where Hughes starts it all.

Hughes points out: Even man when he walks.

Hughes elected Crow (the Crow with a brain), to be the weeper for this predicament, and a 'black' Crow is a fitting subject because of its implied connection to death. Technically, the weeper could just as easily have been the bird, the cat, or the insect, except they are not as symbolic. In anycase, same as man, they were all made by Creation.

LIFE, given and taken away by Creation, and Crow sees LIFE for what it really is. He does not seem at all confounded with it. Rather, he is sensitive to it, which is what makes him weep.... then carry on stabbing.

I am just throwing this up onto the page, I got to read it again.

Virgil

03-22-2006, 09:38 PM

This would be a simpler poem if the word "incinerating" was not there. Without that word, the poem is fairly straight forward: the inherent rapacity of carnivores as a need to live, and that rapcity linked to an evolutionary process, tied to a natural transcendentalism all the way back to creation. It is a natural process to go from Tyrannosaurus to crow to man. However, throw in that word incinerating, post world war two, you have a moral dimension beyond what I've just summarized. In the animal world that Hughes describes you do not have any suggestion of intra-species fratricide. One animal kills a different species for survival. The calling up of a halocaust imagery transcends the animal imagery of nature "red in tooth and claw". The killing here is not for survival but for political reasons. The only implication I can draw here is that Hughes is saying that the energy (or shall I use the word libido, or Freudian, id) required for survival can be transmuted into a homicidal drive. But only that energy. There is a tremendous distinction (moral or otherwise) between killing animals to eat and killing jews for extermination.

genoveva

03-23-2006, 12:36 AM

Here's (http://www.teachit.co.uk/pdf/crowkmah.pdf) an interesting article I found while looking for a full text of the poem online

Hey, this link wasn't working for me. :confused: Maybe I'll try again later.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-23-2006, 06:14 AM

Hey, this link wasn't working for me. :confused: Maybe I'll try again later.

It still works for me - it's pdf format, can your browser cope?

The Unnamable

03-23-2006, 09:29 AM

Still, whatever his personal behaviour, I think it's unfair - I know you're not saying this yourself - to accuse Hughes of making an argument for fascism here. Pointing out the tragic inevitability of some killing doesn't automatically translate into justifying all brutal and murderous oppression.

While I am not saying that Hughes was a fascist (I know you didn’t say I did), I can see why he could be accused of holding a viewpoint that does smell of Übermensch. What unsettles me about this poem is the possibility that there is little real difference between a swift eating an insect and a man killing a man. It’s as if both acts are simply instinctive and fundamental to our behaviour as living creatures. In other words, the killing cannot be stopped whether we face our duality or not. Virgil has talked about killing for different reasons. I think the main reason I find the poem so disconcerting is that it suggests all creatures simply kill to live. It’s nothing more than a survival instinct. Concepts of good and evil might disguise this basic fact but they can’t eradicate it – it’s genetically encoded.

There's still something a little contradictory in this interpretation of the deafness - though it may be a contradiction that's in the poem.
Yes, in order to try to explain what I think might be suggested by those last lines, I have had to overstate the case. I don’t think my response is the primary one the poem generates. I do however, think that the deafness is necessary. Even if we just think of Crow, the weeping must not stop him from killing or he’ll starve. He must learn to ignore it. The supreme predator is the one that doesn’t have to ignore the cries because he doesn’t even hear them.

On the one hand, there's a suggestion that with humankind's superior killing ability comes a superior awareness of the victims' suffering. You're saying that the deafness to that suffering is what allows the position of superiority to be maintained.
Sort of. It might be simply that evolution simultaneously produces the superior killing ability and the deafness. The one is dependent on the other. As I said above, the supreme predator is utterly ruthless.

Technically, the weeper could just as easily have been the bird, the cat, or the insect, except they are not as symbolic.
I disagree. The ‘weeper’ is not a crow but Crow. He is endowed with some degree of conscience that the other animals don’t have. The grubs weep but only for themselves in pain. Crow weeps for his prey. Or did you mean that the prey weeping in pain for itself could easily have been the bird, the cat or the insect?

jackyyyy

03-23-2006, 11:20 AM

'Incinerating' is a sensitive word, but did Hughes really slide that in to direct us? I try to not assume anything, looking at the plain words of it.

You're right, the 'weeper' is Crow, not crow, and Hughes could have picked 'a' bird, cat, or insect (technically, but not as emotionally poignant, except in maybe Orwell's case), my mistake. I see Crow weeping for both his prey's and his own mortality (eyes round in both terrific fear and pity/sorrow/regret). I guess I picked up on 'any species' because of the title, and Crow here is Tyrannosaurus, but Creation is above Crow in the food tree,, and I am now left wondering if Darwin was fascist or scientist.

The Unnamable

03-23-2006, 12:01 PM

'Incinerating' is a sensitive word, but did Hughes really slide that in to direct us? I try to not assume anything, looking at the plain words of it.
Obviously there is no way of knowing and it’s probably pointless to speculate but I can’t believe that the man married to Plath wasn’t aware of the effect of that word. I also read it in the context of ‘Abattoir’, with the implications I mentioned above. Virgil said that, “This would be a simpler poem if the word "incinerating" was not there.” It might do but it would, for me, make it a less interesting poem.

The interesting thing about creation is that what it immediately gives rise to (in the poem) is a funeral. Creation and destruction come as a pair.

and I am now left wondering if Darwin was fascist or scientist.
:lol: What about Hughes? :D

I’m also left wondering. Must be a good poem, then.

blp

03-23-2006, 02:04 PM

Even if we just think of Crow, the weeping must not stop him from killing or he’ll starve. He must learn to ignore it. The supreme predator is the one that doesn’t have to ignore the cries because he doesn’t even hear them.

I see, except my slightly finicky point is that humanity, as supreme predator (at least in this scheme of things) also has to learn to ignore the cries. Plenty of 'lesser' creatures can kill without empathy (microbes that make us ill, for instance) and this does not make them superior (though it's fun to imagine them feeling remorese). Humanity is more like Crow - conflicted, weeping while killing; and the link is made between humanity and Crow with the 'thus' that takes us from weeping to round eyes and deaf ears and the way that echoes the incineration - the deliberate destruction not inherent deafness - of the innocents' outcry.

jackyyyy

03-23-2006, 02:17 PM

One word, enough to sink a thousand ships and raise a thousand dead.

Plath is the culprit, eh.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-23-2006, 05:09 PM

I'm glad this poem stirred up so much debate. I've had a copy of the Crow series for about 10 years and I've always loved them but never really analysed them quite as deeply as this. I may post another in a month or two.

As I see it, Crow is used in Hughes poems both as an observer of mankind and simultaneously as a metaphor for mankind; a killer with a conscience.

The juxtaposition of invented mythology and pseudo-biblical language with modern references (not so evident in this example) is what first attracted me to the book. I once played in a band that had a name taken from a line in a Hughes poem and so, when I found a copy of Crow going cheap, I took a look, liked what I saw, and bought it.

I like Unnamable's ideas about the meaning of the round eye & deaf ear, as I said above, these have always confused me. I believe he is right; a predator needs a keen eye for prey combined with the ability to disregard that prey's screams.

I also agree with Virgil, in that in the case of mankind, Hughes is not limiting his observations to killing for food but is also referring to warfare and other killing - the same kinds of eyes and ears are required in both cases (although, I'm not sure if he's saying that we are like this and so killing is inevitable and natural, or that we need to become like this, if we 'have' to kill).

One last point. This poem was written in 1970, a time when the worlds first technicolor, televised war was at it's height in Vietnam; incineration could just as easily refer to the use of Napalm on civilians as to Hitler's ovens, don't you think?

jackyyyy

03-23-2006, 06:12 PM

This poem was written in 1970
and his wife, Plath, ended it in 63, by gas. There is a lot to speculate.
Thanks, Xamonas.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-23-2006, 07:40 PM

I really must compare a few of Hughes's poems from before Sylvia's death with what came after. I find it hard to believe that it had no effect. I bought Plath's "collected Poems" recently. Hughes provided the introduction and steadfastly steers clear of any autobiographical references. The nearest that he comes is to say, "until she was overtaken by the inspiration that produced the poems of the last six months of her life." Although, I admit to being surprised that he agreed to write it at all. It must have been traumatic for him.

I wonder if Hughes ever blamed himself for Plath's suicide. I can't believe that he never did but neither can I believe that he always did. She did make several attempts earlier in life and showed early signs of mental instability. The Unnamable states that Hughes must have been difficult to live with; I would offer that Plath was probably not much easier.

It's strange that I've been reading Hughes's poetry for years but only started reading Plath since signing up to this forum. I have to thank those that posted her poetry here for that. I must admit to falling into the, "she's only read by neurotic, suicidal females" camp - what the **** was I thinking?

Thank for putting me straight, The Unnamable and others

The Unnamable

03-23-2006, 10:31 PM

I see, except my slightly finicky point is that humanity, as supreme predator (at least in this scheme of things) also has to learn to ignore the cries.
Yes, of course – but I don’t mean it to be a literal outlining of evolution. Don’t forget that even before they have to learn to ignore the cries, they have to evolve the ability to hear them in the first place, -in the way Crow or we do. Perhaps I should have said that man no longer hears the cries rather than ‘doesn’t’– it’s the next stage on from Crow’s.

Plenty of 'lesser' creatures can kill without empathy (microbes that make us ill, for instance) and this does not make them superior (though it's fun to imagine them feeling remorese).
These do everything without empathy – it’s not something of which they are capable, full stop. I also assume they don’t have any conscious awareness.
There is an interesting parallel with a scene from Apocalypse Now, when Kurtz talks about the North Vietnamese going into a village and cutting off the inoculated arms of young children:

Kurtz: These were not monsters, these were men, trained cadres, these men who fought with their hearts, who have families, who have children, who were filled with love. But they had the strength, the strength to do that. If I had ten divisions of those men, then our troubles here would be over very quickly. You have to have men who are moral and at the same time who are able to utilize their primordial instincts to kill without feeling, without passion, without judgment--without judgment--because it's judgment that defeats us.

Perhaps what Hughes is reflecting on really is the Heart of Darkness.

Humanity is more like Crow - conflicted, weeping while killing;
Some of humanity is – but some have moved on to the next stage. The Nazi extermination depended upon the dehumanising of the Jews. Many of the perpetrators simply didn’t see their victims as beings with the same feelings, passions, fears etc. as their own.

and the link is made between humanity and Crow with the 'thus' that takes us from weeping to round eyes and deaf ears and the way that echoes the incineration - the deliberate destruction not inherent deafness - of the innocents' outcry.
Incineration here is the ultimate negation – it physically removes, leaving hardly a trace but the method is mechanised and en masse. It treats human beings as if they were simply so many cubic tonnes of waste mater to be disposed of. Mass murder as an industrial process (this is hinted at in Abattoir). And they did process the victims – taking hair, skin, fat and so on as by-products of that process. A few more Plath lines come to mind – from Lady Lazarus:

“…my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,”

“Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.”

Do you think someone might post a more cheerful poem for this week? :D

Virgil

03-23-2006, 10:37 PM

Do you think someone might post a more cheerful poem for this week? :D
:lol: That's odd, comng from you. I always get the feeling that if a work doesn't end with someone sticking their head in an oven, you seem disappointed. :nod:

tn2743

03-24-2006, 01:17 AM

That did sound kind of odd. :) But it might be because darker poems tend to be deeper. If someone could post a cheerful poem that's also deep and can confuse the hell out of me at the first readings, that'd be great. But you're right Unnamable, we've had at least 4 depressing poems in a row.

PS. I just realised I've been spelling 'Unnamable' wrongly for the past three weeks, sorry.

jackyyyy

03-24-2006, 07:21 AM

It provoked the discussion, and for me to research it more and more. What was really inside Hughes, and when/how are all the events in their lives? While I have a habit of seeing black and white on the paper of it.. I really want to see the colour, which is where Unnamable takes it, and good stuff. I still question what people derive from this word 'Incinerated', in fairness to Hughes, and although yes, he used 'abattoir' in the same breathe, and but so what - in the meat making business, its normal stuff. Why didn't someone home in on GOD, since the word, Creation,, and we'd have 1000 comments for sure..

I read up on Plath last night, and 'Daddy'.. and I am now seeing one of those deep/dark psychological life dramas. The real life of Plath and Hughes is far more interesting to me than how I now consider Crow, so I want more Crow than 'nice' stuff, please.

The Unnamable

03-24-2006, 09:57 AM

First of all, Virgil was right to be surprised. I do gravitate towards the darker stuff – it tends to be more interesting to me. I like Austen as much as Beckett and Henry IV Part One is one my favourite Shakespeare plays. I hadn’t read Crow Tyrannosaurus for twenty years – I go for the earlier Hughes, although I remember really liking that anthology he brought out about his time with Plath, Birthday Letters. If XC hadn’t posted it, I might never have read it again. It’s not pleasant to think that there are great poems (that I know) that I’ll never read again. Well, there’s one that I’ve given due thought to for a few days.

yes, he used 'abattoir' in the same breathe, and but so what - in the meat making business, its normal stuff.

Hughes wasn’t in the meat making business, though – he was in the word grinding business and, no less than those who can kill a cow with the swing of a sledgehammer, he uses his tools with skill and precision, even if it’s to crack open skulls. The point about ‘abattoir’ is, firstly, that Hughes could have used a different word but didn’t; secondly, the purpose of an abattoir is to kill for food but as part of a mechanised process. This introduces, even if only partly consciously, the idea of production line slaughter. Why do so if that isn’t the effect he is after?

You might like to look at Hughes’ Thrushes – both the similarities and the differences from the Crow poems are interesting.

If you’d like something lighter, try Marginalia by Billy Collins. It’s a great one for this forum. It’s accessible, funny and, although many find Collins rather cute and gimmicky, it leaves me feeling warm. If you want something life affirming but still chewy, you could try one of the following by Patrick Kavanagh: Canal Bank Walk, In Memory Of My Mother, Advent.

If you are looking for a poem more horrible than Crow and one that asks almost as many questions, try More Light! More Light! by Anthony Hecht. It’s a harrowing read.

And, as it’s now Friday night in Bangkok, I think I might explore my own Heart of Darkness. The ear’s deafness will certainly come in handy tonight.

jackyyyy

03-24-2006, 10:20 AM

Why do so if that isn’t the effect he is after?

Its how man catches, slaughters and processes his food 'today', which is as unlike the other creatures in the poem (bird-swooping down on insects, cat-catching and gagging on it, dog crunching it). If he had referenced a caveman, maybe. He could not say, "man goes on a hunt for food". I do not mean to belabour the point.. so excuse me here,, I came to this poem, virgin of it, which is what made me question other's not so virgin interpretation.

Uncanny, I just got off the phone with someone in Pattaya, selling cheap rooms.

blp

03-24-2006, 02:59 PM

Perhaps what Hughes is reflecting on really is the Heart of Darkness.

There's something of that, definitely.

I don't think our readings are very far apart and I'm not sure there's enough in the poem to decide it either way, but it seems to me more a general description of a conflict all humans are subject to and one with a more unconscious effect than what you're describing (as I remember that Brando quote, he says, 'the strength, the will to do that').

I see the poem itself as a sort of blort into consciousness of something usually pushed out of the picture.

ktd222

03-26-2006, 09:26 PM

Well, heres my doozy. We're all in agreement(at least I think we are) that Emily Dickinson is brilliant, right? This Tint poem has both philosophical and poetic elements in it.

The Tint I cannot take -- is best --
The Color too remote
That I could show it in Bazaar --
A Guinea at a sight --

The fine -- impalpable Array --
That swaggers on the eye
Like Cleopatra's Company --
Repeated -- in the sky --

The Moments of Dominion
That happen on the Soul
And leave it with a Discontent
Too exquisite -- to tell --

The eager look -- on Landscapes --
As if they just repressed
Some Secret -- that was pushing
Like Chariots -- in the Vest --

The Pleading of the Summer --
That other Prank -- of Snow --
That Cushions Mystery with Tulle,
For fear the Squirrels -- know.

Their Graspless manners -- mock us --
Until the Cheated Eye
Shuts arrogantly -- in the Grave --
Another way -- to see --

Virgil

03-27-2006, 11:16 AM

Yay, ktd got her poem out. I've never read this Dickinson poem. Let me absorbed for now.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-27-2006, 01:00 PM

I may be completely wrong - it has been known - but I think she's describing a sunset in the first couple of verses and how such sights affect her in the subsequent stanzas.

'The tint' is one of those exquisite, indescribable shades of colour that you sometimes see in a really great sunset; where the red and gold of the clouds meets the blue and turquoise of the sky. I see the 'Cleopatra's company' as being a reference to these colours as well - think of Tutankhamen's deathmask.

Following this physical description, Dickinson goes on to express the transcendental feelings associated with such visions of nature at Her most powerful and moving; how they leave us feeling inadequate and very small. She cites summer landscapes and winter snowscapes as further examples; but the prominence given to the sunset suggests that this was the moment that inspired the poem. She is saying finally that such things give us only hints of a greater glory that we won't witness till after death.

I am not at all familiar with Emily Dickinson's work, so it took several readings to get anything from this. I'd be grateful if anyone could shed any light on the unusual punctuation - breaking lines with dashes in mid phrase - and the capitalisation of certain words (which I assume is for emphasis). Are these common in her poetry?

Petrarch's Love

03-27-2006, 03:33 PM

You're right, ktd, that is a doozy. I haven't read this Dickinson before. Some of my first impressions were similar to Xamonas'. The first few stanzas seem to refer to a sunset and then build from the intangible beauty of what we see in the heavens in life to the intangible things we will see after death. I thought the "Cleopatra's company" line was alluding to Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, specifically the famous speech describing Cleopatra on her barge (though maybe I just have A&C on the brain after annotating it last summer). Here's an excerpt for consideration:

I will tell you.
The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
It beggar'd all description: she did lie
In her pavilion--cloth-of-gold of tissue--
O'er-picturing that Venus where we see
The fancy outwork nature: on each side her
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid did.
A&C 2.2.200-214

The glitter of Cleopatra's barge seems to resonate with the "impalpable Array --That swaggers on the eye" Dickinson is trying to describe in her poem.

As for the peculiar punctuation, I know it is something Dickinson is known for, but I've never made a formal study of her works, so I don't really know much about it. I did a little poking around in the MLA online database while I was looking up some articles for some other research this morning, and it seems that very few critics have tried writing on this poem, possibly because it is such a doozy. Evidently Harold Bloom considers it one of the greatest American poems though (for whatever that's worth), and I came across one interpretation that pointed out that the poem was written during the civil war and read the allusions to color for sale as partly a critcism of slavery in the period (I wasn't really sold on this argument, but wondered what others thought of it). Many critics pointed out that the imagery of the first stanza with the "tints" going to market, was likely evoking the sale of colored fabrics at a bazar (another tie in with the "purple sails" and "cloth-of-gold of tissue" in the Shakespeare). I liked the interpretation given along these lines in an article by an Ellen Fitzgerald in the Nov. 1969 Explicator. She interpreted the first line, "the tint I cannot take" in terms of the way cloth is sometimes unable to "take" or absorb a dye. Metaphorically Dickinson is like the cloth, that cannot "take" the tint which is "too remote," something which is beyond the grasp of the mortal soul. Anyway, that's what a little casual research brought up. I'll have to give this poem some additional thought. I'm really interested to see what people make of this poem in the week's discussion.

P.S.
Yay, ktd got her poem out.
Oh wow, how did I miss that ktd is a woman? Really sorry if I got your gender wrong somewhere, ktd. I thought you were I guy for some reason! :blush: :blush:

Virgil

03-27-2006, 04:21 PM

Actually I'm responsible for call ktd a "her". I don't know that it's true. For some reason I've got it in my mind that the person is a she. And so without thinking my grammer reflects that. Obviously Petrarch you assumed ktd is a he. I asked ktd once of his/her's gender and she never responded. Perhaps my question got lost in discussions. So how about we ask ktd one more time, and if he/she doesn't respond again, then obviously she doesn't want to share it. I'll understand.

As to the poem, my first reaction was a tint for cloth, which I picked up from the first stanza. But XC quite rightly points out it refers to the sky in the second stanza. Perhaps she means both, and therefore tint in general. The poem lays heavy emphasis on seeing. Every stanza except the third (and perhaps the fifth, although there I think sight is implied) has a refernce to sight or eye or something visual. The construction of the poem I take as the following:
(1)The first two stanzas are parallel constructions and therefore linked in thought.
(2)The fourth and fifth stanzas seem like they want to be linked, although I'm not sure. While stanzas one and two are colors imposing itself on the passive eye, in four and five it seems like the eye is actively looking out.
(3)The third and sixth stanzas are very much linked through the identical construction and rhythm of their final lines.

I'm hardly an expert on Dickinson's grammer, but having read a bit of her here are a couple of my observations:
(1) She does it for rhythm
(2) She does it for breath spacing, and therefore creating points of emphasis
(3) She does it for structure. Notice that the first full period comes at the end of the fifth stanza. But she's still able to write clauses with dashes for separation. But the period does add extra emphasis.

I would summarize the theme to be a distinction between the living's arrogance at thinking they see completely versus the dead's ability to see beyond, or "another way." But I think there's more going on here.

Can someone tell me what "Tulle" in the fifth stanza refers to?

chmpman

03-27-2006, 04:42 PM

After a google search I believe it is some sort of netted fabric.

In the fifth stanza what do you guys think of the bringing in of Squirrels. Using my experience of these rodents I think she is referring here to "The Pleading of the Summer." This would not be a reference to sight, but sound. Have you ever heard the weird buzzing squirrels make? It sounds like it is coming from everywhere at once. This seems to me like it would be one of those things of Nature that transcends man's understanding.

What do you guys think of her comparing the sunset, a creation of Nature, to that of a manmade fabric? I think her first line definitely states her preference, perhaps the illusions to Shakespeare coming mockingly? Maybe not. Maybe her comparison is supposed to be between what is felt and what is seen. Good poem, I haven't studied Dickenson yet.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-27-2006, 04:44 PM

Tulle is a gauzy fabric used to make ruffs and frills - and especially wedding gowns - here she uses it as a nice metaphor for snow.

Virgil

03-27-2006, 04:50 PM

Tulle is a gauzy fabric used to make ruffs and frills - and especially wedding gowns - here she uses it as a nice metaphor for snow.
Oh, thanks.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-27-2006, 04:55 PM

There is a lot of delicious ambiguity in this poem:

Is the last line implying an alternative method of seeing or seeing an alternative route?
Do the 'graspless manners' belong to the squirrels? The full stop in the previous line would imply not - so to what do they refer?
Chariots -- in the vest? Pleading of the summer? Where do these two phrases fit? What do they mean even?

It's a grower - that's about the only thing I'm really sure of.

ktd222

03-28-2006, 04:53 AM

Is the last line implying an alternative method of seeing or seeing an alternative route?

I think so.
The tint she cannot take in some way is best-but she cannot reason why-but the squirrels seem to know-through graspless manners. Maybe the reason that she is unable to grasp tint is because The Tint is ungraspable; it cannot be reasoned or deduced by us in any way. The Tint must be felt; it is a fine impalpable array.

So how about we ask ktd one more time, and if he/she doesn't respond again, then obviously she doesn't want to share it. I'll understand.

I'll just leave it as this: I'll be 18 this year and am planning enrollement at Wellesley College. ;)

Virgil

03-28-2006, 08:22 AM

:lol: Wow, I guess I got something right. Not even 18? Wow you seemed much older. I thought you were a grad student.

Petrarch's Love

03-28-2006, 12:47 PM

Wow, I guess I got something right. Not even 18? Wow you seemed much older. I thought you were a grad student.

Gee, sorry again for not knowing you were a girl, ktd. Mea Culpa. I thought you were about 19 or 20, first or second year undergrad. I'm not sure I would have guessed highschool. You must just be wise beyond your seventeen years. ;) Wellesley sounds like a great school...but where's your supply of young men to date? :brow:

rachel

03-28-2006, 04:18 PM

ktd222

03-28-2006, 07:24 PM

Wellesley sounds like a great school...but where's your supply of young men to date?

Now do you see whats happening. I take everything that was said back; I'm a life-form from the planet Xenon come to Online-Literature to do research on galactical literature. Yes, we have schools where I come from-but what you call schools we call oohh-pock. If you want to procreate, you must get permission from The Mother Brain; otherwise kneck roek bop, kneck roek bop.

rachel

03-28-2006, 07:48 PM

you are too adorable. How do you just say hullo and shake hands I wonder?,do you have hands then?

Petrarch's Love

03-28-2006, 11:15 PM

Now do you see whats happening. I take everything that was said back; I'm a life-form from the planet Xenon come to Online-Literature to do research on galactical literature. Yes, we have schools where I come from-but what you call schools we call oohh-pock. If you want to procreate, you must get permission from The Mother Brain; otherwise kneck roek bop, kneck roek bop.

:lol: :lol: Nanoo Nanoo! Oh wait, wrong planet. I'm from a planet called academia :alien: where the inhabitants speak a language called "theory" (far less intelligible than your native Xenon language--seriously). They do this a lot: :brickwall and call it "thinking."

Well enough frivolous interrogation of one another and back to a serious discussion of poetry. :banana:

Being a great fan and having read as much on her life as is possible I think probably she did the unusual punctuation simply because she felt like it and didn't give a fig newton about what anyone else thought of it.

I think that's a very good point Rachel. I've often thought that Dickinson isn't really what one might call a "critic's poet" in that she very much does her own thing in her own way. I sense that the way to understanding her poetry is often less a matter of thinking it out than of feeling it out.

ktd222

03-29-2006, 12:59 AM

I think that's a very good point Rachel. I've often thought that Dickinson isn't really what one might call a "critic's poet" in that she very much does her own thing in her own way. I sense that the way to understanding her poetry is often less a matter of thinking it out than of feeling it out.

I've always believed understanding her poetry requires utmost attentiveness by my critical eyes-being that most of her poetry is so short. The dependency of word choice, meter, syntax, etc, requires 'that extra level of importance' for the poem to succeed-and a lot of her poetry does succeed in achieving its art without overkill.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-29-2006, 04:07 AM

ktd,

I spent a little time on Xenon on business. The people things were delightful but I found the magenta sky a little strident. I love those little pastries that whistle when you chew them though - are they called Knirple, Knopple? Something like that.:D

Thanks (and thanks to Rachel too) for clearing up the capital letter/punctuation thing. It sort of agrees with my guesses.

rachel

03-29-2006, 01:19 PM

you....GUESSED? Oh I am shattered. I thought, no I was certain beyond anything that you KNOW EVERYTHING.
hmm, I think you are joking. No I know you are, for the wind has brought word to me from far away places that even the trees talk about you on breezy evenings and marvel that you know everything. :lol:

jackyyyy

03-30-2006, 03:26 PM

It was interesting to read how others here take to the style. Its like song lyrics I have read while listening to the particular singer. If I " listen " to it, I arrive. What I mean by this is, when someone is reciting a story or tale, or singing a song, its different to reading with 'our own' mental voice. I think this is Dickinson talking in her style.

A woman, elating the beauty revealed since the arrival of Summer. She has moments, flushes of high inspiration, fleeting and about to stay, but don't, can't quite. The Squirrels take these things, as is their nature, until the scowl of Winter and snow arrives again to protect what belongs to nature. Then, she knows, for only in her grave, no more Winters needed and she will enjoy without interruption.

The very last words seem like throw aways. Not sure I described it so well.

Virgil

03-30-2006, 04:29 PM

A woman, elating the beauty revealed since the arrival of Summer. She has moments, flushes of high inspiration, fleeting and about to stay, but don't, can't quite. The Squirrels take these things, as is their nature, until the scowl of Winter and snow arrives again to protect what belongs to nature. Then, she knows, for only in her grave, no more Winters needed and she will enjoy without interruption.

I'm not sure I agree with that, Jack. I don't think it's simple beauty she's talking about, the kind you just enjoy. The third stanza transports the experience beyond that: "The Moments of Dominion / That happen on the Soul / And leave it with a Discontent / Too exquisite - to tell-" This is a deep phenomena she's talking about, obviously because of the allusions, spiritual, trascendental. That's anting the pot up a notch, and then (if you'll excuse the poker metaphor) she further antes it up at the end, perhaps throwing all her chips in: "Their Graspless manners - mock us / Until the Cheated Eye / Shuts arrogantly - in the grave - / Another way - to see -" So the experience with nature or beauty does something to her soul, which is to say it is quite an engraved ordeal. But that in the end is not the totality of experience. Transcendentalism is not the complete picture. There will be still another level to the experience that the living eye cannot know or see, but only from the grave can one know or see it.

jackyyyy

03-30-2006, 05:16 PM

Aye, Virgil, I am not sure I agree with me either, but after reading it over two score times, I do want to post something to egg the ideas. You know who comes to my mind when I read it, Katherine Hepburn (nope, I don't know why). I was aware that her choice of words imply greater things, but I wonder if her intention was, and in her style, simply an account of her feelings, rather than a profound statement.

The third stanza transports the experience beyond that: "The Moments of Dominion / That happen on the Soul / And leave it with a Discontent / Too exquisite - to tell-"
"Dominion" or mastery is another positive emotion, and "Too exquisite" sounds like her style again.

"Their Graspless manners - mock us / Until the Cheated Eye / Shuts arrogantly - in the grave - / Another way - to see -"
When she writes "Another way - to see", does not infer to me that what she could see would be 'superior', only that its 'another way to see'.

Virgil

03-30-2006, 05:21 PM

You know who comes to my mind when I read it, Katherine Hepburn (nope, I don't know why).

Well, they were both from the same part of the U.S. Did Hepburn ever marry? She seems like a spinster type, but as an actress I'm sure she was more extraverted than Emily.

When she writes "Another way - to see", does not infer to me that what she could see would be 'superior', only that its 'another way to see'

Hmm. I would agree with that. It hadn't crossed my mind.

jackyyyy

03-30-2006, 05:24 PM

I think she married Humpthrey 5 or 6 times, if that counts, and Spencer Tracey. I was crazy about her too.

Nope, just checked, Tracy was a companion, nearly the same thing.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-30-2006, 05:26 PM

I can't help seeing the last line as havnig the stress on the word 'way' - implying that she means seeing another way, as opposed to seeing in another way. I think it's the pause thingy. Anybody else get that?

jackyyyy

03-30-2006, 05:34 PM

As I read it, the stress is on the word 'see'. If I marry the person to the style, I can see her saying that, in her kind of flippant, half arrogant way...

another way - to see.. what she wants to see, but the scoundrel Squirrels will not let her, least not here on Earth.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-30-2006, 05:36 PM

Hepburn married businessman & playboy Ludlow Ogden Smith in 1928 and divorced him 6 years later. They famously got a second divorce in 1942 before he remarried because he wasn't sure that their Mexican divorce was legal! She had a long term affair with Spencer Tracey but never married him and no affair with Humph that I ever heard about. She did star alongside him in the brilliant 'African Queen' though.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-30-2006, 05:37 PM

I'm not sure about the last line, I can see it both ways. I like that in a poem. If it means the same every time you read it, it's too obvious IMHO.

jackyyyy

03-30-2006, 05:51 PM

Yes, a poem for all seasons. So, why be precise, when we should just enjoy the colours it splashes on us. I feel if I read it again and again, Katherine will end up married to Tracy.. somewhere in those words. (nope, I don't know why)

ktd222

03-30-2006, 08:31 PM

The third stanza transports the experience beyond that: "The Moments of Dominion / That happen on the Soul / And leave it with a Discontent / Too exquisite - to tell-" This is a deep phenomena she's talking about, obviously because of the allusions, spiritual, trascendental.

If you read this poem again, taking into account The Squirrels graspless manners to experience the transcendental aspect of tint, then you'll see in stanzas 1, 4, 5, 6, that she is trying to find an angle to grasp this transcendental aspect of The Tint. But to no avail. But yet, she continues throughout the poem to find an angle to grasps The Tint nontheless-even to her very last moments of existence-she refuses to understand The Tint through any other means, except grasping: Until the Cheated Eye
Shuts arrogantly

ktd222

03-30-2006, 08:41 PM

If you are looking for a poem more horrible than Crow and one that asks almost as many questions, try More Light! More Light! by Anthony Hecht. It’s a harrowing read.

Unnamable,

Wow! How absent or unconcious must the soul be to torture for amusement.

ktd222

03-30-2006, 09:28 PM

Read Raymond Carver's Cathedral, you will see a similar thing developing as in Dickinson's Tint poem.

Virgil

03-30-2006, 10:01 PM

I'm not sure about the last line, I can see it both ways. I like that in a poem. If it means the same every time you read it, it's too obvious IMHO.
I agree. I can read it both ways. But I'm not sure it changes the meaning that much.

Virgil

03-30-2006, 10:07 PM

If you read this poem again, taking into account The Squirrels graspless manners to experience the transcendental aspect of tint, then you'll see in stanzas 1, 4, 5, 6, that she is trying to find an angle to grasp this transcendental aspect of The Tint. But to no avail. But yet, she continues throughout the poem to find an angle to grasps The Tint nontheless-even to her very last moments of existence-she refuses to understand The Tint through any other means, except grasping: Until the Cheated Eye
Shuts arrogantly
Why do you say to no avail? The third stanza states that those things "happen on the soul". But I will say that I'm not getting the fifth stanza as I should. The "Mystery" and the squirrels confuse me. Perhaps we should focus on this stanza. Any thoughts out there?

ktd222

03-31-2006, 01:08 AM

The third stanza states that those things "happen on the soul".

Because if you read this stanza:

The Moments of Dominion
That happen on the Soul
And leave it with a Discontent
Too exquisite -- to tell --

The Moments of Dominion that happen on the Soul; not the Soul causes the Moments of Dominion to happen. She still isn't understanding, even though The Moments of Dominion has happened on her Soul. Her Soul has yet to fully understand, hence, on her Soul. There is this thing going on where just like the Tint and she, the Soul still isn't able to take the Moments of Dominion in, which is another way of saying the Soul hasn't grasped.

ktd222

03-31-2006, 01:51 AM

The eager look -- on Landscapes --
As if they just repressed
Some Secret -- that was pushing
Like Chariots -- in the Vest --

The Pleading of the Summer --
That other Prank -- of Snow --
That Cushions Mystery with Tulle,
For fear the Squirrels -- know.

These two stanzas are about she suspecting the Lanscape knowing 'something, 'Some Secret -- that was pushing Like Chariots -- in the Vest --.' Yet, she is unable to unlock the secret. I'll let others comment.

Xamonas Chegwe

03-31-2006, 04:16 AM

jackyyyy

03-31-2006, 04:43 AM

The Moments of Dominion that happen on the Soul; not the Soul causes the Moments of Dominion to happen. She still isn't understanding, even though The Moments of Dominion has happened on her Soul. Her Soul has yet to fully understand, hence, on her Soul. There is this thing going on where just like the Tint and she, the Soul still isn't able to take the Moments of Dominion in, which is another way of saying the Soul hasn't grasped.

Yes, I agree here too, its the moments that cause the emotions, her soul is being affected. When you write "... Soul hasn't grasped", you make me confused with 'Their graspless manners'. I think its at the "Summer/Winter" point in the flow that she is summing up something. "Their graspless manners" indicates the Squirrels that do not understand, cannot grasp (it), cannot 'see' (it). And, manners = their habits.

jackyyyy

03-31-2006, 04:45 AM

I mostly agree with ktd about the 'Happen on the soul' line - think of it as 'happen upon' if you prefer, not 'happen in'.

The moments find the soul and change it, leaving it confused in a beautiful yet disturbing way but offering it no explanation. That's my take on that stanza.
I don't know that she is confused, rather she is merely feeling and enjoying, but like I wrote earlier, its as though, and at the Summer/Winter point, she becomes upset at the Squirrels (and what they represent).

ktd222

03-31-2006, 04:50 AM

Their graspless manners" indicates the Squirrels that do not understand, cannot grasp

If they do not understand, then how is it that they can 'mock us'? I'm not saying your wrong, but not understanding and mocking seems to contridict each other.

ktd222

03-31-2006, 05:14 AM

Soul hasn't grasped", you make me confused with 'Their graspless manners'

Your right, I shouldn't have said it that way. Grasping is what she is trying to do throughout the poem to understand the meaning of the Tint. 'For fear the Squirrels -- know./Their Graspless manners -- mock us'-This states the Squirrels 'know.' Not that they don't understand. And it seems to me, 'Their Graspless manners-' gets at the degree(graspless) of the Squirrels knowing of the Tint. And the narrator senses the degree of the Squirrels knowing as well, even though 'she' cannot.

Their graspless manners" indicates the Squirrels that do not understand, cannot grasp (it), cannot 'see' (it). And, manners = their habits.

But you are leaving out this part: 'Their Graspless manners -- mock us' .

jackyyyy

03-31-2006, 05:15 AM

They mock in ignorance, and as per their manners/habit. They are graspless of those feelings she has, and cannot see what she can. I am trying to ascertain this word 'graspless' which was ambiguous to me before.. I saw Squirrels with little arms as opposed to Squirrels with little ability to grasp a notion.

ktd222

03-31-2006, 05:24 AM

I am trying to ascertain this word 'graspless' which was ambiguous to me before.. I saw Squirrels with little arms as opposed to Squirrels with little ability to grasp a notion.

Its not a grasping at all.

The Moments of Dominion
That happen on the Soul

To be, as you say, 'in ignorance' is the only way to experience the Tint.

jackyyyy

03-31-2006, 05:33 AM

Thats why I felt the piece is reflecting her style, somehow. The Winter arrives, hides it all from the Squirrels. Since Summer/Winter is perpetual, its only in the grave (she mutters to herself), will she be able to understand what she feels. (thats where I am at now, tomorrow it could change).

ktd222

03-31-2006, 05:42 AM

Understanding of Dickinson's poetry just requires attention to every single word.

The Winter arrives, hides it all from the Squirrels. Since Summer/Winter is perpetual

The Pleading of the Summer --
That other Prank -- of Snow --
That Cushions Mystery with Tulle,
For fear the Squirrels -- know.

Theres more here before you even get to the Squirrels. Who's 'Pleading'? Why is the Snow referred to as 'That other Prank'-which means the Summer was the first Prank? The Prank is being played on Who? The Landscape seems like an Entity here.

jackyyyy

03-31-2006, 06:31 AM

The Summer is pleading (to stay).
The 'first ' prank be Mystery.
The prank is being played on her.

Grumbleguts

03-31-2006, 07:22 AM

About time someone provided another copy of this poem. I shall oblige.:D

The Tint I cannot take -- is best --
The Color too remote
That I could show it in Bazaar --
A Guinea at a sight --

The fine -- impalpable Array --
That swaggers on the eye
Like Cleopatra's Company --
Repeated -- in the sky --

The Moments of Dominion
That happen on the Soul
And leave it with a Discontent
Too exquisite -- to tell --

The eager look -- on Landscapes --
As if they just repressed
Some Secret -- that was pushing
Like Chariots -- in the Vest --

The Pleading of the Summer --
That other Prank -- of Snow --
That Cushions Mystery with Tulle,
For fear the Squirrels -- know.

Their Graspless manners -- mock us --
Until the Cheated Eye
Shuts arrogantly -- in the Grave --
Another way -- to see --

ktd222

03-31-2006, 11:01 AM

The Summer is pleading (to stay).
The 'first ' prank be Mystery.
The prank is being played on her.

I would have to disagree; but I do not have time to go over it, right now.

There is no words in the poem denoting staying.

Virgil

03-31-2006, 12:14 PM

Its not a grasping at all.

The Moments of Dominion
That happen on the Soul

To be, as you say, 'in ignorance' is the only way to experience the Tint.
So, ktd, are you saying that the narrator is not seeing the trascendental power of nature in the first three stanzas? What then is she referring to with "The Moments of Dominion / That happen on the soul"

Also I don't know if someone mentioned this before, but when she says "Their Graspless manners," their is refering to the multiple natural elements she's brought up. So perhaps you're right, ktd, the narrator can't experience the transcendental power. But then what is "Dominion" referring to?

Xamonas Chegwe

03-31-2006, 01:43 PM

I agree with most of that last post Virgil.

Especially the meaning of 'their'. I think if it was the squirrels, the full stop wouldn't be there. I think by Dominion, she is referring to the overwhelming power of nature dominating all that gaze upon it, particularly her soul, which it 'happens on' (ie. accidentally finds - as in 'I happened on a young girl as she was bathing in the stream - but enough of my fantasies!)

I have a handle (rightly or wrongly) on most of this poem now. The only two phrases that still won't sit still are The Pleading of the Summer and the last line. The last line is OK though because it's nicely ambiguous and leads me off in all sorts of directions at once.

But the pleading of summer is niggling at me; telling me that it has an obvious meaning which I'm just not quite getting (and I'm not happy with jackyyyy's pleading to stay theory - sorry jack). Any other ideas out there?

chmpman

03-31-2006, 02:57 PM

I posted my squirrel theory.

jackyyyy

03-31-2006, 03:18 PM

The eager look -- on Landscapes --
As if they just repressed

What does this mean, "repressed" ?

Virgil

03-31-2006, 03:36 PM

Xamonas Chegwe

03-31-2006, 03:47 PM

The eager look -- on Landscapes --
As if they just repressed

What does this mean, "repressed" ?

Read the whole stanza as a sentence.

The eager look on lanscapes as if they just repressed some secret that was pushing, like chariots, in the vest.

I am assuming that vest refers to the chest region and therefore the heart.

chmpman

03-31-2006, 03:49 PM

Would that be repressed in the observer or the landscapes themselves? She seems to do a lot of personifying nature.

jackyyyy

03-31-2006, 04:54 PM

She is saying, AS IF they, the LANDSCAPES...

An eager look on LANDSCAPES (AS IF) they, the landscapes themselves, repressed, pushed away (concealed, hidden) some secret that was trying to get out. She is not quite accusing the LANDSCAPES.

The LANDSCAPES are natural, change with the seasons, and because of the SQs (seasonal), and because of the snow (seasonal), I think of Winter.

Moments of Dominion... are good feelings of mastery, ownership, conquest. I think she is elating in the first 3 stanzas.

If I want to pick on every word I can, but I can't see why she would write a riddle. I wonder the test here is reading her style. Ktd seems very sure of, I look forward to what she has to say.

chmpman

03-31-2006, 06:09 PM

But she uses the word "Vest", which seems to imply a feeling from the heart, as XC pointed out. If the landscapes are what is repressed, why the use of "Vest"?

I'm under the impression that the poem's meaning is to relate her feelings under the influence of nature. This is not an easy task, hence the ambiguity. I like it for that.

jackyyyy

03-31-2006, 07:40 PM

Yes, its sure ambiguous anyway.. which is not a bad thing, like music, except when people want to be exact about it. Vest to me (don't laugh), is snow. Because its white (ya, I know lots of coloured vests, but not back then). Vest is also a verb.. but I do not want to complicate it anymore than is already.

ktd222

03-31-2006, 07:55 PM

Ktd seems very sure of, I look forward to what she has to say

Its just an argument for one way to see the poem. Isn't the one who posts the poem suppose to be active in the discussion anyways?

Okay, fine, well do this by stanza.

The Tint I cannot take -- is best --
The Color too remote
That I could show it in Bazaar --
A Guinea at a sight --

This to me reads The Tint she cannot take is the Tint at its best. There is a negative tone associated with what she cannot take. Look at the next lines:

The Color too remote
That I could show it in Bazaar --
A Guinea at a sight --

More emphasis on the I. The Color of the Tint is too remote that she could show it in Bazaar--A Guinea at a sight.

Bazaar defined: A bazaar is a market, often covered, typically found in areas of Muslim culture.

The goods that the market is selling is found 'inside' or under the covering of the market. Another allusion to the market covering being the Tint and what it has to offer(its goods) inside. And you could almost see her paying a Guinea for a glimpse(sight) into the Tint. Yet, The poem starts off 'The Tint I cannot take-' so that negates that action being done by her to 'pay' for a look, if you will, into what the Tint has to offer inside-not full discernment though, she only gets 'a sight' for a Guinea-never more.

Its still 'The Tint she cannot take'

The Color too remote

Its as if from the color of the Tint alone she is unable to discern the significance of the Tint; so instead she 'pays' for discernment: 'A Guinea at a sight.' Even though, again, it is 'The Tint she cannot take.'

Agree or disagree? Any other opinons to how stanza 1 translates?

Xamonas Chegwe

03-31-2006, 08:05 PM

I like Petrarch's Love's idea about the 'tint' - back about 5 pages! - that she is referring to herself as a cloth and the 'tint' as a colour (a dye) that is too special and sublime to be completely absorbed by the cloth as it is, that is, the cloth cannot express it perfectly. She uses this as a metaphor for the way in which her soul is moved by nature at it's greatest but cannot express it adequately in words. If this is what she meant, it is a beautiful allegory. Even if this is NOT what she meant, it is STILL a beautiful allegory. I hope that it IS what she meant.

ktd222

03-31-2006, 08:56 PM

Virgil

03-31-2006, 09:06 PM

Stanza 2:

The fine -- impalpable Array --
That swaggers on the eye
Like Cleopatra's Company --
Repeated -- in the sky --

'The fine -- impalpable Array --' to me, is a description of the Tint as being 'incapable of being felt by touch'(m-w dictionary). Or another way of implying that she is trying to grasp The Tint-which is just an alternative way from the first stanza-of 'paying' for information in order to understand the signifcance of The Tint. So that, as she is trying to grasp, 'The fine--impalpable Array--' seems to almost boast in front of her eye because Tint is not graspable, also.

What I get from this: 'Like Cleopatra's Company --Repeated -- in the sky --'
is not only the way the Tint seems to swagger in front of the eye thats trying in vain to grasp it, but this line almost gives an imagined image to us about how graspable the Tint is-try physically, to grasp reflections of anything. You can't physically hold shadows in the palm of you hands. But as to why she specifically uses 'Cleopatra's Company,' I don't know. Any thoughts?

Disagree or agree?
I'm still holding on to my reading, although you make interesting points. Your reading doesn't explain "Momnets of Dominion on the soul" If you can weave that in, you might pursuade me.

This might hinge on how we interpret impalpable, so here's M-W:

impalpable
Main Entry: im·pal·pa·ble
Pronunciation: (")im-'pal-p&-b&l
Function: adjective
1 a : incapable of being felt by touch : INTANGIBLE <the impalpable aura of power that emanated from him -- Osbert Sitwell> b : so finely divided that no grains or grit can be felt <rock worn to an impalpable powder>
2 : not readily discerned by the mind

ktd222

03-31-2006, 09:09 PM

Virgil,

I'll explain the third stanza later. I have to get back to work.

ktd222

04-01-2006, 03:14 AM

The Moments of Dominion
That happen on the Soul
And leave it with a Discontent
Too exquisite -- to tell --

The third stanza transports the experience beyond that: "The Moments of Dominion / That happen on the Soul / And leave it with a Discontent / Too exquisite - to tell-" This is a deep phenomena she's talking about, obviously because of the allusions, spiritual, trascendental.

You stated above, and I agree, that 'The Moments of Dominion that happen on the Soul' has transported to a spiritual or transcendent level. 'The Moments of Dominion' may be the 'impalpable Array(stanza2),'The Tint' itself(stanza1), that is in front of her. All one in the same. In the first two stanzas she is trying to understand the Tint, but unsuccessfully. In this stanza the Tint, which we find out is same as 'The Moments of Dominion' happens on the Soul. 'Happens-'just happens on the Soul, not because she has found any way to understand it-because she hasn't. Even though 'The Moments of Dominion' happen on the Soul, she is unrealizing of it. Just as the Tint and Array shows itself to her.

'The Moments of Dominion' happen, it happens on the Soul, right on the Soul. And yet, the Soul 'cannot take' 'The Moments of Dominion' into itself. Which metaphorically would be understanding, right? The Soul is still bound to some need of seeing and reasoning to understand, which prevents her from realizing 'The Moments of Dominion' happens right on her soul. And as a result:

And leave it with a Discontent
Too exquisite -- to tell

leaves even the Soul with a lack of contentment too exquisite to tell(to explain).

Any other opinions?

jackyyyy

04-01-2006, 03:34 AM

I am still taking in everything you wrote there, Ktd. What about this word 'Exquisite'. Why do you think she picked that word?

ktd222

04-01-2006, 04:41 AM

What about this word 'Exquisite'. Why do you think she picked that word?

And leave it with a Discontent
Too exquisite -- to tell

ya, thats tough, because their is weird syntax when I translate the line above.

...And leaves the soul with a discontent too selective to tell.

Any thoughts, because I'm tired. I'll comment tomorrow.

Xamonas Chegwe

04-01-2006, 08:06 AM

ktd222

04-01-2006, 10:44 AM

Exquisite is an unusual word in the ways it can be used.

It has 2 slightly differing meanings:

1. Extremely beautiful, usually with overtones of delicacy - "The filigree work on the musical box was exquisite."
2. Intensely felt - "As the lash struck his bared back, the pain was exquisite."

I think that Dickinson is well aware of the ambiguity of the word, it's positive/negative dichotomy. It could be that she is using it to simultaneously describe both the beauty and power of the 'tint' (in my interpretation, an awe-inspiring experience of nature) and the intensity of the discontent felt by being unable to fully grasp it's essence.

But this wouldn't fit with what is going on in the first two stanzas. A certain 'trying' to understand by her.

exquisite
2 entries found for exquisite.
To select an entry, click on it.
exquisite[1,adjective]exquisite[2,noun]

Main Entry: 1ex·qui·site
Pronunciation: ek-'skwi-z&t, 'ek-(")
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle English exquisit, from Latin exquisitus, past participle of exquirere to search out, from ex- + quaerere to seek
1 : carefully selected : CHOICE
2 archaic : ACCURATE
3 a : marked by flawless craftsmanship or by beautiful, ingenious, delicate, or elaborate execution b : marked by nice discrimination, deep sensitivity, or subtle understanding <exquisite taste> c : ACCOMPLISHED, PERFECTED <an exquisite gentleman>
4 a : pleasing through beauty, fitness, or perfection <an exquisite white blossom> b : ACUTE, INTENSE <exquisite pain> c : having uncommon or esoteric appeal
synonym see CHOICE
- ex·qui·site·ly adverb
- ex·qui·site·ness noun

The first or second definition would fit better.

jackyyyy

04-01-2006, 07:15 PM

#2 works for me too. I don't know that it can be ambiguous without compromising the earlier stanzas. Anyway... a little closer to exquisition.

Virgil

04-02-2006, 01:22 AM

The Moments of Dominion
That happen on the Soul
And leave it with a Discontent
Too exquisite -- to tell --

You stated above, and I agree, that 'The Moments of Dominion that happen on the Soul' has transported to a spiritual or transcendent level. 'The Moments of Dominion' may be the 'impalpable Array(stanza2),'The Tint' itself(stanza1), that is in front of her. All one in the same. In the first two stanzas she is trying to understand the Tint, but unsuccessfully. In this stanza the Tint, which we find out is same as 'The Moments of Dominion' happens on the Soul. 'Happens-'just happens on the Soul, not because she has found any way to understand it-because she hasn't. Even though 'The Moments of Dominion' happen on the Soul, she is unrealizing of it. Just as the Tint and Array shows itself to her.

'The Moments of Dominion' happen, it happens on the Soul, right on the Soul. And yet, the Soul 'cannot take' 'The Moments of Dominion' into itself. Which metaphorically would be understanding, right? The Soul is still bound to some need of seeing and reasoning to understand, which prevents her from realizing 'The Moments of Dominion' happens right on her soul. And as a result:

And leave it with a Discontent
Too exquisite -- to tell

leaves even the Soul with a lack of contentment too exquisite to tell(to explain).

Any other opinions?
OK, that's not really different from what I and others were saying.

And at the end of the poem, then the lifting of the "Tulle" at death is a revalation, and I mean that in the religious sense. What is ungraspable but exquisite in life is revealed at death. Ok, I'm comfortable now with the whole thing.

ktd222

04-02-2006, 01:59 AM

And at the end of the poem, then the lifting of the "Tulle" at death is a revalation, and I mean that in the religious sense. What is ungraspable but exquisite in life is revealed at death. Ok, I'm comfortable now with the whole thing

ya, that would seem so, except for the word 'arrogantly' which still makes me unsure if she-in life or in death-will every free herself from reasoning. She's being so exact in all of the previous stanzas that I can't help it feel there is something else happening in the last stanza. The poem would be a total let down and border on cliche if the poem ended as above mentioned.

Until the Cheated Eye
Shuts arrogantly -- in the Grave

There is something specific going on here. Again with the weird syntax. Why is the 'Cheated Eye' assuming that it can 'shut arrogantly--in the Grave'?

Virgil

04-02-2006, 02:11 AM

ya, that would seem so, except for the word 'arrogantly' which still makes me unsure if she-in life or in death-will every free herself from reasoning. She's being so exact in all of the previous stanzas that I can't help it feel there is something else happening in the last stanza. The poem would be a total let down and border on cliche if the poem ended as above mentioned.

Until the Cheated Eye
Shuts arrogantly -- in the Grave

There is something specific going on here. Again with the weird syntax. Why is the 'Cheated Eye' assuming that it can 'shut arrogantly--in the Grave'?
Well, according to my earlier posts, the eye is arrogant in life becuase it thinks it knows everything. Arrogant is a word loaded with judgemental scorn. Once death arrives, the eye will see what it didn't know (and therefore cheated) before. And then "another way to see" as Xamonas points out.

ktd222

04-02-2006, 02:16 AM

Well, according to my earlier posts, the eye is arrogant in life becuase it thinks it knows everything. Arrogant is a word loaded with judgemental scorn. Once death arrives, the eye will see what it didn't know (and therefore cheated) before. And then "another way to see" as Xamonas points out.

Or what about the eye being so arrogant that it believes it can grasp Tint(or cheat) once the eye shuts in the grave?

Xamonas Chegwe

04-02-2006, 07:33 AM

But the eye is not described as being arrogant, just of shutting arrogantly. It is described as 'cheated' because it cannot 'grasp' the 'tint' - this part I can see - but why does it shut 'arrogantly'?

Personally, it is these ambiguities that I like best about the poem; these small, puddles of dubious clarity that refract and distort the view of the whole so that you never quite see it the same way twice - If you prefer, it is the tint I cannot take which is best!! :nod:

jackyyyy

04-02-2006, 08:50 AM

But the eye is not described as being arrogant, just of shutting arrogantly. It is described as 'cheated' because it cannot 'grasp' the 'tint' - this part I can see - but why does it shut 'arrogantly'?

Personally, it is these ambiguities that I like best about the poem; these small, puddles of dubious clarity that refract and distort the view of the whole so that you never quite see it the same way twice - If you prefer, it is the tint I cannot take which is best!! :nod:
Hey could be on a roll here.. exactly,, why 'exquisite', 'arrogant', 'cheated'.

If it was only about enjoying it, ambiguities can make a great kaleidoscope, but for some reason we are trying to get inside Dickinson's head.

Xamonas Chegwe

04-02-2006, 09:02 AM

Hey could be on a roll here.. exactly,, why 'exquisite', 'arrogant', 'cheated'.

If it was only about enjoying it, ambiguities can make a great kaleidoscope, but for some reason we are trying to get inside Dickinson's head.

And therein lies your mistake. You are trying to get inside the head of Emily Dickinson. Emily is a woman's name! Much as I love the creatures, I don't understand how any woman's mind works, let alone one that also happens to be a great poet.

There comes a point when you just have to stand back and marvel. For me the best thing about great poetry is the way that it twists in your grip and won't stand still. Over-analyse a poem (or a woman) and you run the risk of losing the mystery that gave it (or her) it's allure in the first place.

jackyyyy

04-02-2006, 10:46 AM

And therein lies your mistake. You are trying to get inside the head of Emily Dickinson. Emily is a woman's name! Much as I love the creatures, I don't understand how any woman's mind works, let alone one that also happens to be a great poet.

There comes a point when you just have to stand back and marvel. For me the best thing about great poetry is the way that it twists in your grip and won't stand still. Over-analyse a poem (or a woman) and you run the risk of losing the mystery that gave it (or her) it's allure in the first place.
I have to bow to your wisdom there.

ktd222

04-02-2006, 12:03 PM

But the eye is not described as being arrogant, just of shutting arrogantly. It is described as 'cheated' because it cannot 'grasp' the 'tint' - this part I can see - but why does it shut 'arrogantly'?

Look at it this way: The whole poem is about her trying to grasp Tint; yet it is this very 'trying to grasp' that is limiting her from understanding, because 'the trying' ceases her from understanding in any other way. It leads the a cheated Eye.

Main Entry: 1cheat
Pronunciation: 'chEt
Function: verb
transitive senses
1 : to deprive of something valuable by the use of deceit or fraud
2 : to influence or lead by deceit, trick, or artifice
3 : to elude or thwart by or as if by outwitting <cheat death>
intransitive senses
1 a : to practice fraud or trickery b : to violate rules dishonestly (as at cards or on an examination)
2 : to be sexually unfaithful -- usually used with on
- cheat·er noun

Even in the grave the 'Cheated Eye shuts arrogantly.' Not going to the grave the eye shuts arrogantly. She cannot let go of this 'trying to reason,' hence the 'arrogantly,' to believe this is another 'trying' she can use to see the tint. To 'see' not feel; which I've already stated that it must be the 'seeing' that ceases and the Tint to be felt. This last stanza goes back to the 'trying to see' in stanza 1 and 3.

ktd222

04-02-2006, 12:11 PM

If you prefer, it is the tint I cannot take which is best!!

I can't read anything to support this statement.

ktd222

04-02-2006, 12:14 PM

And therein lies your mistake. You are trying to get inside the head of Emily Dickinson

I'm not. I've been supporting my point with what I read in the poem.

ktd222

04-02-2006, 12:18 PM

Over-analyse a poem (or a woman) and you run the risk of losing the mystery that gave it (or her) it's allure in the first place.

If paying close attention to tone, syntax, etc, is over-analysing then I'm ok with your statement.

Xamonas Chegwe

04-02-2006, 12:26 PM

I can't read anything to support this statement.

I was equating the way the poem talks about the impalpability of nature with the way I feel about the poem itself. It is the very fact that it is not graspable in a single sitting, or even in several, that will keep me coming back to it.

ktd222

04-02-2006, 12:32 PM

It is the very fact that it is not graspable in a single sitting, or even in several, that will keep me coming back to it.

I agree with this.

Xamonas Chegwe

04-02-2006, 12:48 PM

If paying close attention to tone, syntax, etc, is over-analysing then I'm ok with your statement.

...and trying to analyse each and every word individually. It is like trying to analyse every brushstroke of a painting. There is a synergy to a great poem that cannot be broken down into the sum of it's parts without losing something. The way the words combine and play against each other is the essence; isolating a word from a line, a line from a stanza, a stanza from the whole, is like looking at parts of a car and wondering how it works. It can help, but it can also confuse if you lose sight of the bigger picture.

Another thing to consider. Even great poets are human. It is often assumed in analysis that they knew exactly why they put every word where they did and that they were all chosen for a purpose. This may be true in some cases. But it is certainly false in most. Is it beyond the bounds of reason that Dickinson would choose a word over an alternative just because it sounded good? Or that she might deliberately throw in an ambiguous word or phrase in a mischievous manner? Or that something that she wrote in a moment of inspiration didn't really make sense to her either but was too beautiful to drop (not to mention that she herself might have caught a hint of meaning in it without being sure exactly what)? I'm not saying that any of these are necessarily the case here, but I'm not ruling any of them out either.

I love the poem; it speaks to me and I can see a meaning in it that may or may not be right. I also expect it to show another side of itself next time I read it. A poem's meaning lies somewhere between the author's intention and the reader's interpretation and is constantly in flux. I wouldn't have it any other way.

ktd222

04-02-2006, 01:12 PM

...and trying to analyse each and every word individually.

This poem is not like, say, The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock, so every word does take on an extra level of importance.

There is a synergy to a great poem that cannot be broken down into the sum of it's parts without losing something. The way the words combine and play against each other is the essence; isolating a word from a line, a line from a stanza, a stanza from the whole, is like looking at parts of a car and wondering how it works. It can help, but it can also confuse if you lose sight of the bigger picture.

I never discounted this. Tone and sytax does not mean analysis of every single word. I took both the sum and parts in my analysis.

Xamonas Chegwe

04-02-2006, 01:15 PM

I never discounted this. Tone and sytax does not mean analysis of every single word. I took both the sum and parts in my analysis.

I never suggested that you did. Apologies if you got this impression. I was merely clarifying my earlier statement. :nod:

ktd222

04-02-2006, 01:26 PM

I have to get to work. Yes, even on Sunday. :( We can pick this up later if you want.

jackyyyy

04-02-2006, 01:51 PM

Even in the grave the 'Cheated Eye shuts arrogantly.' Not going to the grave the eye shuts arrogantly. She cannot let go of this 'trying to reason,' hence the 'arrogantly,' to believe this is another 'trying' she can use to see the tint. To 'see' not feel; which I've already stated that it must be the 'seeing' that ceases and the Tint to be felt. This last stanza goes back to the 'trying to see' in stanza 1 and 3.

Until the Cheated Eye
Shuts arrogantly -- in the Grave --
Another way -- to see --

Yes, she is currently shutting her eye arrogantly.. until the grave when that action will stop. Makes me think there should be a (,) after the word UNTIL.

I now have a new understanding of the word Exquisite, thanks to Ktd, which wasn't in any of my brain cells before. So, it shed a new light. This part, I think is a very good reason to analyse, pay close attention, and thereby increase ours and other's awareness.

ktd222

04-02-2006, 08:13 PM

Yes, she is currently shutting her eye arrogantly.. until the grave when that action will stop

I don't know about this. The word 'shuts' is abrupt. Not like shutting which connnotates a 'process happening.'

Virgil

04-02-2006, 08:32 PM

Jackyyy - Would you like to post one for this week? I don't think you have yet.

jackyyyy

04-03-2006, 03:50 AM

I don't know about this. The word 'shuts' is abrupt. Not like shutting which connnotates a 'process happening.'
You're right. I could have indicated a continual 'shutting abruptly' process, which will still never come out quite the same way as her one word. The tense, location and reference is clearer now, thanks again to your analysis. It also made me realize, and kind of stupidily on my part, that if we do not know all meanings and derivates for any given word, we will conjur up different pictures to satisfy a solution in our brain. On the other hand, I agree with Xamonas, and my kaleidoscopic view from this poem is still the one that satisfies my analysis, given my limitations (I am not the author), overall understanding of the author, the theme and the content - my colour blue is not the same as another's.

Jackyyy - Would you like to post one for this week? I don't think you have yet.
Thanks for the offer Virgil, I would love to. I have many poems that have stuck with me over many years, I would enjoy that. However, I have only been here two weeks and I am still learning a lot. Maybe in a few months when I am a little more confident of what I am talking about. ;)

ktd222

04-03-2006, 05:42 AM

I had an epiphany while looking at this quote by Xamonas:

There is a lot of delicious ambiguity in this poem:
Do the 'graspless manners' belong to the squirrels? The full stop in the previous line would imply not - so to what do they refer?

Their Graspless manners -- mock us --
Until the Cheated Eye
Shuts arrogantly -- in the Grave --
Another way -- to see --

Maybe 'Their Graspless manners-' refers to--every way of 'trying' in stanzas 1,2,4,5, to grasp the transcendent element of tint:

S1: the purchasing
S2: the grabbing
S4: the eager look
S5: the pleading by the Summer

All these ways to reason 'The Tint' are graspless, because we find out in S3 that 'The Moments of Dominion that happen on our Soul' is itself graspless. 'The Moments of Dominion' by chance reveals itself-we don't have any control over this transcendent element of the Tint.

The Pleading of the Summer --
That other Prank -- of Snow --
That Cushions Mystery with Tulle,
For fear the Squirrels -- know.

But our impression that the Squirrels may know(I don't know why squirrels) among the others mentioned 'mocks us,' until we ourselves are deceived(cheated) into believing comprehending of 'The Moments of Dominion' must be through these ways: S1, S2, S3, S4.

Their Graspless manners -- mock us --
Until the Cheated Eye
Shuts arrogantly -- in the Grave --
Another way -- to see --

Therefore: the deceived Eye shuts arrogantly '-in the grave-' with these impressions-bound by these impressions-excuse me for this cliche: seeing is believing. Or any of the '--another way--to see--' shown above.

There you are! I incorporated all of our opinions in to one anwer. Do we agree?

Virgil

04-03-2006, 07:28 AM

Thanks for the offer Virgil, I would love to. I have many poems that have stuck with me over many years, I would enjoy that. However, I have only been here two weeks and I am still learning a lot. Maybe in a few months when I am a little more confident of what I am talking about. ;)
OK, then I'm going to jump in and pick one of my favorite of all time. I'm sorry if Yeats has been done before, us looking at this one.

Sailing to Byzantium by William Butler Yeats

THAT is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations - at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.

O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.

Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

Somebody give it a start.

Virgil

04-03-2006, 07:29 AM

There you are! I incorporated all of our opinions in to one anwer. Do we agree?
OK, I'm pretty much on board.

jackyyyy

04-03-2006, 08:58 AM

Aye.. I've had enough of squirrels cheating and mocking me, I fear them exquisitely. I'd be vest off in a grave to see it another way. This looks good, Virgil. Once I get me paying job out the way.... I'll mock it in a graspless manner, hehe.

The Unnamable

04-03-2006, 09:11 AM

Somebody give it a start.
"THAT is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations-"

This is how I feel about the Forum. :lol: :D :nod: ;) :brow:

Virgil

04-03-2006, 09:30 AM

"THAT is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations-"

This is how I feel about the Forum. :lol: :D :nod: ;) :brow:
Yes, I understand. :lol:

The Unnamable

04-03-2006, 10:38 AM

OK, then I'm going to jump in and pick one of my favorite of all time.
Sorry, Virgil but I’ve grown to like Yeats less and less over the years. The problem I have with this poem is that it offers artifice as a preference to the natural. Certain lines stand out (as they often do in Yeats) but he comes across as a bit of a fart to me. The poem has been called ‘Romantic’ but I would have to agree with a less modern Romantic:

“Not in Utopia, subterranean fields, --
Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where!
But in the very world, which is the world
Of all of us, -- the place where in the end
We find our happiness, or not at all!”
The Prelude (1850) bk. 12, 1. 204

Yes, I can see the fear of growing old and I can ‘enjoy’ the unembellished image of “A tattered coat upon a stick” but can he really be serious about that golden bird?

jackyyyy

04-03-2006, 11:00 AM

I am not sure what fits with people in this forum, but here is an idea you can shoot down. D.H.L. TEASE ?.. that should be.. well.... more than interesting...

Petrarch's Love

04-03-2006, 01:33 PM

Thanks for posting the poem Virg. I had an Irish professor as an undergrad who had us memorize a few significant chunks of the Yeats cannon, and this was one of them. I had to recite it in front of the class, so I became accutely aware of how well the sound of it flows, completely independent of the meaning. Some of those lines just please the ear, like finally wrought artifacts, as though the poem as a whole were demonstrating its part in the "artifice of eternity." I'll have to think a little and post some better (more coherent?) comments a little later.

blp

04-03-2006, 02:39 PM

Here it is again, since we're on a new page.

THAT is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations - at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.

O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.

Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

I like little snatches of Yeats - A terrible beauty is born, some rough beast, slouching towards Bethlehem to be born, and the foul rag and bone shop of the heart, but (sorry) I've never enjoyed a whole poem enough to look at him much and he appears to have had some rather odd philosophical views, as well as in interest in the occult. Still, look around at other early modernists, in art and architecture as well as literature, and you find some awfully funny views about. I don't want to be too quick to judge.

'Gyre' from S3, L3 here, is a key term in said philosophical schema and also turns up in Yeats' The Second Coming. It means a whirl, vortex or, as Yeats would have it, a historical cycle. Jerome Rothenberg and Pierre Joris in Poems for the Millennium describe his vision of this as 'a mapping of all history and consciousness as a recurrent interplay of cycles' and quote R. Ellman , in explanation, 'a conflict of opposites...represented by two interpenetrating cones or gyres, the apex of one in the base of the other' and Yeats: 'What if Christ and Oedipus or, to shift the names, Saint Catherine of Genoa and Michael Angelo, are the two scales of balance, the two butt-ends of a see-saw? What if there is an arithmetic or geometry that can exactly measure the slope of a balance, the dip of a scale, and so date the coming of that something?'

Hmmm.

Well, a few other scattered observations: the title of this one is oddly similar to the famous phrase from The Second Coming, Slouching towards Bethlehem. No idea whether this is significant. The phrase golden bough, S4, L6, is the name of a book by J.G Frazer of comparative religion and myth, showing the parallels between Christianity and other traditions predating it, published 1922 and a key reference point for Pound and Eliot. Not sure of the specific significance of the title.

This is getting long, so I'll hang back for now.

genoveva

04-03-2006, 04:10 PM

Where is Byzantium?

Xamonas Chegwe

04-03-2006, 04:35 PM

Where is Byzantium?

It's an old name for Istanbul / Constantinople.

Virgil

04-03-2006, 09:27 PM

Sorry, Virgil but I’ve grown to like Yeats less and less over the years. The problem I have with this poem is that it offers artifice as a preference to the natural. Certain lines stand out (as they often do in Yeats) but he comes across as a bit of a fart to me. The poem has been called ‘Romantic’ but I would have to agree with a less modern Romantic:

“Not in Utopia, subterranean fields, --
Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where!
But in the very world, which is the world
Of all of us, -- the place where in the end
We find our happiness, or not at all!”
The Prelude (1850) bk. 12, 1. 204

Yes, I can see the fear of growing old and I can ‘enjoy’ the unembellished image of “A tattered coat upon a stick” but can he really be serious about that golden bird?

Yes, he splits from moderns. That's his way of looking at the world. All sorts of writers have all sorts of kooky ideas. To you ideas are paramount; to me the aesthetics. Ultimately it's his artistry, not his ideas, that makes him a poet. If ideas were paramount, he could have written an essay and be precisely clear. To me there are only a handful of poets writing in engish with his poetic skills: Shakespeare, Keats, Pope, come to mind.

Petrarch's Love

04-03-2006, 11:50 PM

The phrase golden bough, S4, L6, is the name of a book by J.G Frazer of comparative religion and myth, showing the parallels between Christianity and other traditions predating it, published 1922 and a key reference point for Pound and Eliot. Not sure of the specific significance of the title.

The golden bough is a reference from the Aeneid, book six, in which Aeneas must search for the golden bough in order to pass safely through the underworld (has this come up elsewhere in this thread or is it just deja vu?). I don't know if this was in Yeats' mind or not when he was writing this (I'd be interested if anyone were to suggest a significant way in which they are linked). My Norton anthology quotes Yeats as having written the following about the golden bough and bird:

I have read somewhere, that in the Emperor's palace at byzantium was a tree made of gold and silver and artificial birds that sang.

The Norton also cites, Hans Christian Anderson's Emperor's Nightengale, which I don't remember having read. It's not here on Lit. Net.

Ultimately it's his artistry, not his ideas, that make him a poet.

I agree, that I enjoy Yeats most on the aesthetic level. Maybe we could talk about form a little to begin with? I think he does a beautiful job in the ottava rima here. The concluding couplet really puts the emphasis on the end of the stanza, and he uses that fairly effectively. If you read just from the final lines of each stanza you could still get the gist of the poem:

Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
Into the artifice of eternity.
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

I love the sound of that repeated rhyme between "come" and "Byzantium" for some reason. It also highlights the transition from the sense of coming to Byzantium in the third stanza to the sense of Byzantium and what is to come at the end. Through the use of the repeated rhyme in chiasmus he smoothly suggests the way the speaker is travelling from across the seas, to Byzantium and from thence to "the artifice of eternity."