“Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.” Mozart
“Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.” Mozart
I grew up in New England where we had Frost read to us starting in elementary school. I don't want to get off topic, but there is one poem of his, called Storm Fear, that gets to me still after all these years (I'm 55 now). It reminds me of the first few years of my marriage, when we had a house but not much money, and I used to sit up at night when a blizzard would come, after my wife had gone to bed, to be sure that the house was okay. I had a book of Frost's poetry in those days, and sometimes I would read it as the storm howled. I remember reading Storm Fear on one of those nights, and looking out the window, and just feeling the poem go through me.
STORM FEAR
When the wind works against us in the dark,
And pelts with snow
The lowest chamber window on the east,
And whispers with a sort of stifled bark,
The beast,
'Come out! Come out!'-
It costs no inward struggle not to go,
Ah, no!
I count our strength,
Two and a child,
Those of us not asleep subdued to mark
How the cold creeps as the fire dies at length,-
How drifts are piled,
Dooryard and road ungraded,
Till even the comforting barn grows far away
And my heart owns a doubt
Whether 'tis in us to arise with day
And save ourselves unaided.
On a more intellectual, less visceral level, I believe it to be a poem about needing God so much that one begins to doubt one's own atheism. But for me, in those days, it was just about trying to hold on.
Okay, sorry for the OT.
Last edited by Pompey Bum; 11-12-2014 at 02:30 PM.
OT? Old (Man's) Testament. Stanza the third. Morning suggests youth but there are leaves on the path as yet untrodden into black mush so I'll stick with autumn of his life rather than yellow for callow youth. Which I see and know it as a symbol both private and common of such.
I read the rest of the stanza too as the words of one already experienced enough to know most roads tend to criss cross and certainly all head for the same end.
And just as usually we don't get second chances.
I don't know what age he was when he wrote this so I'm just guessing but Frost was sharp enough to create a middle aged persona so perhaps this is not the voice of experience in the way I see it.
Last stanza. Sigh Regret etc. Hyperbole follows unless he means the poem itself - the speaking text. Ah wonderful to be so sure of ones work lasting!
So Post- Calvinist summation. It's a poem about the illusion of choice in a predestined universe but as humans we have to act as if we have choice and determine our own destiny. And that's what makes us human and therefore different. Kincaid's got to git now
Yes, the Old Testament. I feel really bad about it now. Especially Leviticus. Honest to God, just dress how you like. (No dwarves in the Temple, though).
Frost's idea for this poem may have come from observing the behavior of one of his contemporaries, a lesser- known poet. If you happen to have a copy of the Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry, please take a look at the footnote on the bottom of page 196, where the editor states:
As I see it, the difficulty in making even the most trivial decisions as well as insecurity over past actions are aspects of the perculiarly American character. The theme can be found in the literature of the last and current centuries, among poets such as Delmore Schwartz and especially in the novels of Richard Ford and Richard Russo."According to Lawrence Thompson, this poem was a slightly mocking parody of the behavuior of Frost's friend, Edward Thomas, who used to choose a direction for their country walks, then, before they had finished, berate himself for not having chose a different, more interesting way. Frost, says Thompson, did not approve of romantic "sighing over what might have been."
As a sidebar, take a look at this online article on rampant misinterpretations of "The Road Not Taken."
http://www.thescreamonline.com/essay...01/poetry.html
Last edited by AuntShecky; 11-12-2014 at 04:54 PM.
Somewhere in the famous quoted line poetry completion thread I wrote a very silly parody this one.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
Though why it was yellow was not understood.
Were all the trees cowards, afraid of the axe,
That could smite them to lumber for putting in sacks,
Or was it disease that affected the trees,
Infected by X-file type, modified bees?
The answer, I felt, lay down one of the paths,
One strewn with stones and the other with laths.
The mystery now I just had to unravel,
So I followed the one that was covered with gravel.
The custard wood lured me deeper within
And I wished that a priest could have shriven my sin.
But at last, in a clearing, the answer I found,
It was obvious now that I looked all around,
At the top of a ladder, quite close to a tree,
A man with a spray-gun was looking at me.
He pointed his weapon and right then I fainted
And found when I woke, that I too, had been painted.
In the article you linked to, John Kilgore writes:
Frost, of course, is not celebrating anything–not his own dark and difficult life, not a flimsy, Marlboro-man vision of heroic selfhood–nor is he re-casting the Biblical injunction to shun the broad and beaten way in favor of the virtuous straight and narrow. He is lamenting life's choices and the relentless one-way march of time, in a wistful, quiet, lonely little poem whose speaker has no idea whether he took the right path or not, does not brag, offers no advice, hints that life is rather unfair, and seems on the whole more oppressed and puzzled than anyone.
Now how do we know that Kilgore's interpretation is itself not a misunderstanding?
I don't see any lamenting of life's choices in the poem, just an acknowledgement that one choice was made. Sure, time is a one-way road, but does that make this a "lonely" poem or a "little" poem? Where does Frost hint that life is "unfair"? Where is Frost "oppressed"? Where in the poem is he "puzzled"? Why reference Frost's "dark and difficult life"?
My blog: https://frankhubeny.blog/
It says he's sorry he could not take both (roads).
I think the simplicity but universality of his particular experience is what makes it resonate with readers. There's not a lot to say about what happens, but the basic choice of path and the significance of whichever way is chosen is recognisable in everyone's experience, whatever interpretation might be attributed Frosts particular circumstance.
I thought the Kilgore article was funny but a little mean spirited. (Any teacher who enjoys disillusioning students that much needs a vacation if not a career change). Also I don't see the common, erroneous interpretation of The Road Not Taken as representative of a "Marlboro Man" mentality (which I take to mean that of a macho loner). Young people just like to think that they are special. And they are special--but not always in the ways they think.
Last edited by Pompey Bum; 11-13-2014 at 10:19 AM.
I often make such decisions when walking. Shall I follow this trail or that through the forest preserve? I would like to follow both, but then there is only so much daylight. I can also see this poem originating because of Frost's walks with Edward Thomas as Aunt Shecky and this article note: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Road_Not_Taken
However, even the Wikipedia article I cite has this to say:
The poem, besides being among the best known, is also one of the most misunderstood.
More than the poem itself, that idea is what I think needs to be critically examined. Is this poem really so "misunderstood"? I don't think so. The interpretations of the poem provided by many in this thread show adequate understanding of the poem and Kilgore's alternate interpretation doesn't fit the poem well at all.
Although Frost writes that he's "sorry", Paulclem, how does this validate Kilgore's interpretation: "He is lamenting life's choices and the relentless one-way march of time, in a wistful, quiet, lonely little poem whose speaker has no idea whether he took the right path or not, does not brag, offers no advice, hints that life is rather unfair, and seems on the whole more oppressed and puzzled than anyone."
Frost, or perhaps it was Edward Thomas, whom Frost may have been describing, doesn't seem any more oppressed and puzzled than I would be choosing trails to walk through the forest preserves around Chicago.
Last edited by YesNo; 11-13-2014 at 10:20 AM.
My blog: https://frankhubeny.blog/
This is a great poem partly because it conceals its poetry under a conversational quietness.
which great poem>> sorry I can't find it.
Seems folks are talking about Robert Frost??
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When asked how World War III would be fought, Einstein replied that he didn't know. But he knew how World War IV would be fought: With sticks and stones.
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Har har iron eye iron aye Mr / Mrs mazHur good try good try