Analyzing this sonnet...

[tariel]

http://www.marecheracelebration.org/poetry.html


FROM

When Love's Perished by Dambudzo Marechera

Here comes one who in silence
Howled a thousand torments;
One who behind polite phrases
Screamed terrible curses to the sky;
One whose slow measured pace to the altar
Raised more dust than buffalo stampeding -

I've read this poem over numerous times and am still having difficulty analyzing it. I can't determine a specific structure, no rhyming scheme or stanzaic pattern that I can pick out. I'm not even sure what this poem is trying to tell us. If anyone has some insight, it would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks so much.

[mono]

Wow, thanks for sharing this, tariel, and welcome to the site. I have never encountered Marechera, but feel impressed by some of the poetry on the link you provided.
He seems a bit difficult to analyze, I agree, but it looks like the majority of his influence, reading on his site, comes from the crises and reforms of Zimbabwe, his home country. I know we can delve only so much into politics, but from what I read in current news, Zimbabwe still faces many tragedies.
The whole poem:

When Love's Perished

Here comes one who in silence
Howled a thousand torments;
One who behind polite phrases
Screamed terrible curses to the sky;
One whose slow measured pace to the altar
Raised more dust than buffalo stampeding -
The soft sweaty palm in limpid handshake
Hid a grizzly bear's hairy powerful claws.
But the mirror impassively denied it all.
The poem, sticky with centuries sleep
And anaemic from lack of discipline
And pallid from years' diet of political slogans
And wedged under the door between Europe and Africa,
The poem, in consternation, began to pick its stanza-lips.

To answer one of your questions, a sonnet does not always have to contain structure, like the Shakespearean or Petrarchan sonnets, but it must have strictly 14 lines. W.H. Auden, for one, wrote many free verse sonnets, but maintained the 14-line rule.
As to the Marechera sonnet itself, I do not know what year the poet composed it, but it looks like he wrote the majority of his poetry in the 1980's-90's; in this time of Zimbabwe, the country gained independence from the United Kingdom, but this also seemed a time of government warfare and violence against revolutionary guerillas. This poem, I believe, chants almost religiously against the deceit of the government in its era; the poem, I think speaks primarily of the UK rule - again, I cannot get into details, abiding by the rules of the forum, banning discussion of politics - but notice the details of one 'coming in silence,' but one who 'howled a thousand torments,' 'screamed terrible curses to the sky,' 'raised more dust than buffulo stampeding,' and 'hid a grizzly bear's hairy powerful claws' behind 'limpid handshake' - all speaking of deceit.
Where Marechera writes of 'the poem' in the last 5 lines of the sonnet, I think he writes as a representative of his Zimbabwe culture. During this time protests, raids, widespread violence, and mixed voting occurred. Despite the European rule, Marechera places a barrier between the UK and Zimbabwe ('the door'), and places the people of his country 'wedged under the door between Europe and Africa,' indecisive, anxious, and waiting 'in consternation.' While placing the Zimbabwe citizens as 'the poem' of the last 5 lines, they pick their lips (a sign of nervousness, much like biting one's fingernails).
Just a guess, but, indeed, this seems a difficult poem to analyze.

[NisreenS]

I read this poem for the first time. It's incredibly a good poem as its content and form represent each other( lack of discipline in both). I think it can be applied to more than one situation in history. It discusses hypocrisy, disorder, and tyranny( and these are universal themes). But I think the last five lines express hope and an expected change. Altough the poem opposes the traditional structure of the sonnet, I can find a particular shape of the poem: it consists of 14 lines (being a sonnet); the first nine lines express a situation (a political one), and the last five lines propose a solution for this situation. But I can't understand this line: " But the mirror impassively denied it all".

[UofG]

haha the OP is in my class :P funny how i use a google string for hints, and this is the first hit

thnx mono for the help

[librarius_qui]

Here comes one who in silence
Howled a thousand torments;
One who behind polite phrases
Screamed terrible curses to the sky;
One whose slow measured pace to the altar
Raised more dust than buffalo stampeding -

---

... It doesn't necessarily tell or wish to tell, or to mean something, but it seems to mean a lot, and to intend to ...

Someone comes. The poet sees someone walking toward him.
It's a tormentuous, a difficult path.
His torment is internal, the person hides himself, but the poet knows what he is, inside.
The poet is near the altar, or at it.
The poet sees great violence in a slow walk ... Possibly because of knowing that there's one thing inside, and something else outside the one he sees.

Who is it? A groom? A priest?
It's the scene of a wedding but does it tell you it is a wedding? Aren't weddings happy circumstances?

It's a gloomy poem.

It does look like a wedding to me. But there's no joy in it.

(Now, let me read what other people wr[o]te! )

[librarius_qui]

The rest of the poem is .. scary!

---

The soft sweaty palm in limpid handshake
Hid a grizzly bear's hairy powerful claws.
But the mirror impassively denied it all.
The poem, sticky with centuries sleep
And anaemic from lack of discipline
And pallid from years' diet of political slogans
And wedged under the door between Europe and Africa,
The poem, in consternation, began to pick its stanza-lips.

---

But I can't understand this line: " But the mirror impassively denied it all".

I think he means something like what he says when he leaves it clear that he sees one image walking toward him, and, however, he knows that, inside, the person hides many things a mirror can't show.

"And pallid from years' diet of political slogans"
This is very strong ...

"And wedged under the door between Europe and Africa,"
This is very clear.

"The poem, in consternation, began to pick its stanza-lips."
This is ... an interesting effort of poetry. I'm not sure I like it, but ... Well, it's about poetry, it's a kind of an opinion, too. People think differently about poetry. And I have very little experience in it.

*

The first part resembles very clearly a wedding. (Maybe because he mentions an altar.) To me. To an African, maybe it could be an altar of sacrifices to African gods? I don't know.

If he is talking about a wedding, we should remember that weddings are institutions, allegiances, ...

If not, it's indeed a difficult poem to figure out.

Which is interesting. Perhaps he can't mean something clear. Perhaps he means what only someone who lives in his country, under his circumstance, can understand. In a way. It does talk about hypocrisy, and it's still a dark dark to me ...

Last verse isn't as much of a hope in politics as it is in literature. Maybe the way of not getting crazy, arrested, killed, in a political circumstance, is to write something "nobody" can understand and, at the same time, everyone (who needs to) understands.

It happened a lot in Brasil (my country), during the days of dictatorship. People couldn't talk openly, but they did criticize. And harshly ... But through literature. So as not to be arrested, tortured, killed. (Not to "get vanished".)

[stlukesguild]

I read this as a poem on poetry... the sonnet... Art in general... but also it speaks of himself... the poet... and an African. The poem begins:

Here comes one who in silence
Howled a thousand torments;

Who is the "one"? The 10th and 14th line denote "the poem" as the subject: "One" is "the poem"... and the poem acts as a stand-in for the poet. Of course a poem... unless read aloud... is silent... and yet poetry has been able to howl of endless torments: love, war, death, etc... But might it not also be the poet... and all those like him... who remained silent, but screamed in pain inside?

One who behind polite phrases
Screamed terrible curses to the sky;

Has not poetry... and certainly such formal poetry as the sonnet... been able to "scream" of terrible curses behind the form of perfect and polite phrases? Again this takes on another level of meaning if we imagine the "one" as the poet as well as the poem.

One whose slow measured pace to the altar
Raised more dust than buffalo stampeding -

The sonnet is structured of careful and slowly unfolding form... its pace is steady... and yet has it not been able to raise holy hell?

The soft sweaty palm in limpid handshake
Hid a grizzly bear's hairy powerful claws.

Again it... the poem/poet has the ability to conceal claws of steel in a velvet glove: bitterness, anger, recrimination.

But the mirror impassively denied it all.
The poem, sticky with centuries sleep
And anaemic from lack of discipline

Yet on the surface... the poem... the sonnet "denies" the anger, passion, fury that it conceals within the jewel-like form. Especially now... that it has grown clammy... its form forgotten in an era of "self expressive" free verse and lack of discipline. And the poet... an African... does he suggest that he and his culture have grown anaemic from centuries of sleep?

And pallid from years' diet of political slogans
And wedged under the door between Europe and Africa,
The poem, in consternation, began to pick its stanza-lips.

It... the poem/poet/Africa has lost its strength... become but a pale ghost of its former self... as "it"... the sonnet... poetry... art... the poet... Africa has surrendered itself to the various causes of political sloganeering... none of which offer what was expected?

In the final two lines the poem itself is an animated thing... wedged between Europe and Africa... like the poet himself... in consternation it "picks its lips"... perhaps seeks to find its (the poem's/poet's) voice. The poem suggests a struggle with "identity and the nature of art" which are described as major themes of his art.

[JBI]

I think one must take the poem itself as a further metonym, for culture and identity, and perhaps more, being that Metonymy generally leads to an infinite trace, where one can interpret things however they want, or to whatever degree they want, but as a symbol, the poem here, I would argue, pushes itself as symbolic of art, identity, culture, personality, expression, uniqueness, and many other things. The free verse then, breaking general convention, and also the lack of rhyme act as a form of liberation, separating the restrictions and conventions from the expression.

[mono]

Interesting, I have never thought of it that way, stlukesguild, but that makes a lot of sense. As true for any poetry, JBI pointed out that especially in this cultural genre of poetry, interpretations can go nearly any direction, and get plagued furthermore by a confirmatory bias.
I think my interpretation took nearly 20-30 minutes, while also trying to retrace some of my historic knowledge of Zimbabwe, but your interpretation has certainly impressed me, stlukesguild.

[librarius_qui]

... seeks to find its (the poem's/poet's) voice

This is what I found that missed in my reading: to separate poet and speech. However, that was, perhaps, my first almost-professional reading commentary in English, so, possibly people will forgive me?

I think one must take the poem itself as a further metonym, for culture and identity, and perhaps more, being that Metonymy generally leads to an infinite trace, where one can interpret things however they want, or to whatever degree they want, but as a symbol, the poem here, I would argue, pushes itself as symbolic of art, identity, culture, personality, expression, uniqueness, and many other things. (...)

The poem as a mirror to those who are reading, wherever, whenever they are. That was why I read the poem first, wrote about it, and read what others had said after I had written the first text.

Interesting remark, this one.