Williams' poem
appears to be such a simple little thing:
so much
depends upon
a red wheel barrow
glazed with rain water
beside the white chicken. (711)
So, what's going on here?
Is
this poetry? What's it about?
What poetic qualities does it have?
If you carefully read the chapter on
versi- fication (and I hope you did) then you may
discover that the poem is in no particular measure; but
there does seem to be, though you might not notice it, a
particular pattern to the number and arrangement of syllables
in
the lines:
the first line has four
syllables, the second has two
the third line has three
the fourth has two
the fifth line has three the
sixth has two
the seventh line has four and the last has
two
(so,
there's something regular going on here
after all!)
There does not appear to be any regular
rhyme scheme here either.
But if you read the poem
aloud
(all poems should be read aloud)
You
might find certain sounds predominating:
especially
long e long o long a
short e short o
short a
with long i and short i singing out in the
final "stanza"
the shifting between long and short
vowels creates a very pleasing contrast
This poem like all poems is all about hearing, but
more importantly, it is all about seeing:
There is
plenty of other contrasts in this poem.
There is color
contrasts: red & white shape contrasts: rigid wheelbarrow &
non-rigid chicken for starters.
Are the colors not
pleasing? They should be. Think back, think long ago:
didn't you ever have a red wheelbarrow? If not, you
certainly had a Radio Flyer red wagon
There are few colors in
the world that are so spectacular, call it what you will: fire-engine red,
metallic red, etc.
There's simply nothing like that red color of
childhood, which is, most likely, the color of the wheelbarrow, since
most are painted the same color still today.
Remember how
those brilliant, primary colors thrilled you as children. That's the feeling
Williams wants to allow you to experience through his poem. Nothing terribly
deep; but certainly profound--for joy and our capacity for joy--are certainly
among the more profound human emotions.
What Williams's is
trying to say in a poem like this is that we need to take the time to look at
ordinary, everyday objects and learn to appreciate their beauty.
What "depends upon" all the stuff in the poem is our ability to
receive pleasure through appreciating the ordinary.
This type of
poetry is called "Imagism." The term was coined by another poet
of Williams' time period, Ezra Pound. Imagist poems are short and compact,
but what sets them apart from other short, compact poems is their visual and
emotional impact on the reader. When reading an Imagist poem, you should
be able to see it on more than one level. It should move you emotionally. And
it does all this with as few words as possible.
FROST'S
"STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING"
Unlike the absolute simplicity of Williams's poem, Frosts is a bit more
complex. True, it does seem simple and straight-forward. Many have
commented on that "ease" of understanding that Frost's poem
appears to allow.
But you have to be careful with Frost. Note
what he says about his own work and what he hopes to achieve in his poetry:
You get more credit for thinking if you restate formulae or cite
cases that fall in easily under formulae, but all the fun is outside[,] saying
things that suggest formulae that won't formulate--that almost but don't
quite formulate. I should like to be so subtle at this game as to seem to the
casual person altogether oblivious. The casual person would assume I meant
nothing or else I came near enough meaning something he was familiar with
to mean it for all practical purposes. (885)
The passage is a bit
dense (surprised? I thought Frost was so easy to understand). What's revealed
to us here is a warning to be careful when reading Frost. We must not, in
short, be "casual." Because Frost is waiting in the wings, as it
were, ready to pull the rug out from under us--just when we think we
understand one of his poems. Frost's poems have, in fact, been compared to
puzzles that you must unscramble.
"Stopping by
Woods" is a perfect case in point. On the surface we have a fairly
simple, and clearly told, story of a person who, on the way home, has
stopped to watch the falling snow and appreciate its beauty. That person, by
the way, may or may not be Frost himself. You'll note as you read about
poetry the term "speaker" popping up (as it will a few sentences
down.) A "speaker" of a poem could be likened to the main
character or protagonist in a short story. Note that in literary terms, the
"speaker" should not be assumed to be the poet herself or
himself (just as we don't assume in a short story the main character is the
author). Think of the "speaker" as an entity the poet writes
through. For instance, Robert Frost could have written his "Stopping by
Woods on a Snowy Evening" from an incident he heard about: say his
farmer neighbor told him he saw a man driving a carriage stopped by the
woods, sitting there for a good fifteen minutes. Frost the poet may have
simply conjectured what that man may have been doing just sitting there in
that carriage. On the other hand, Frost *may* have been writing about his
own experience/thoughts while driving his carriage home one winter evening.
However, it's standard practice to assume the speaker and the poet are
distinct personages.
So, we have in this poem the speaker's
impatient horse reminding him of things he has to do and so he moves on
instead of staying to watch the snow fall.
The poem appears
quite clear, until, that is, we hit the repetition of the final lines. With the
second repetition something sinister appears to entering the poem. I say this
because of the value we give the word "sleep." On the one hand
"sleep" is something most of us do every night. But then there is
the longer "sleep," that is, the sleep of death. When someone
dies, for example, we say they "are at rest," or they are
"asleep in the Lord."
So the question by the end of
the poem is: why does the speaker say the ending line twice? Why repeat
himself? Think about why we tend to repeat things we are telling ourselves.
We do so to remind ourselves of something or to ensure that we remember.
We may repeat things to ourselves for the shear pleasure of saying
something. Or we repeat something to ourselves to convince ourselves that
we must do something.
I'm sure there's several other reasons
why humans repeat things to themselves. But now the question becomes
which is the speaker here doing? Pleasure seems to not fit: the speaker is
enjoying the snow, not talking. Is it something he must remember? Then why
would he need to remember he has "miles to go before I sleep"? Is
it something he must remind himself of? Then why would he need reminding?
Is it something he must convince himself of? Then why would he need to
convince himself of this?
Notice how none of these questions
lead us to a satisfactory answer--at least not immediately. You should be
getting a sense right now of how Frost plays with the "casual"
reader. The casual reader will probably not take the time to puzzle through
this; indeed, the casual reader might not even notice something significant in
the repetition.
The poem seems to be about the man's desire
to remain in the woods versus his awareness by the end of the poem of the
obligations he has towards others. The horse serves as the means to get this
point across to him when the little horse "gives his harness bells a
shake."
I think that is a great place to start in terms of
understanding the poem. What Frost seems to be saying, in short, is that
obligations one has to others (here the horse, and, by extension, whatever
else is back home--farm? wife? kids?) can actually prevent us from taking
time to enjoy beautiful things. And that perhaps we will never have the time
to enjoy the beauty around us because of all those obligations.
In part, then, the repetition could signal the absoluteness of this principle.
First, he cannot linger this night because he has "miles to go before I
sleep" and, second, he may never have the opportunity to linger
because he has "miles to go before I sleep."
So
much to do, so many "promises to keep," that one must go on
keeping those obligations, never having finally the opportunity to take the
time to do things for oneself. Therefore, we see that poets often repeat lines
to drive a point home.
The snow falling in the woods, which are
"lovely, dark and deep," represents the temptations we face to
ignore our obligations. And what would happen if we ignored those
obligations and simply did as we wished for ourselves?
In the
case of the speaker here, he may stay out all night, hypnotized by the falling
snow. How long would he stay? Until he froze? There's certainly something
appealing to remaining, and something sinister in the way the woods look:
"lovely" seems simple enough; but "dark and deep." If
you paid attention when you read O'Connor, the sense of "dark and
deep" (and the sound of it too) is usually not always positive. The
woods here are a lure, perhaps, attempting to draw him in. And what would
happen then?
It is possible the speaker is vaguely
contemplating suicide (stay out and die from hypothermia?), which is, in the
mind of many, ultimately a selfish act in that it completely negates any
obligations one has for others. Is this something going on here?
I can't bring myself--or you--to any kind of resolution on this point. But I
do want you to realize that with some poets you must take care. What
appears simple and easy may suddenly become terribly complex. Williams
isn't such a poet, necessarily. He has some very complex poems, and he has
poems that just what they say they are. But Frost certainly is one to watch out
for. He's not all sugar and spice. And you would do well to remember that.
Now, read "The Silken Tent" (892) and try to
analyze it. Be aware, however, the tent is a symbol. Your job is to figure out
what it represents.
Lecture on feminist poetry
In the 21st century, to define “feminism” still poses problems
because it means different things to different women. Historically speaking,
feminism has been associated in the United States with the struggle for
women’s political power. Women fought for the right to vote, then they
fought for abolition, temperance, and social reform. Since they received the
right to vote in 1920, feminism has continued to represent women’s efforts
to achieve equal rights in all arenas. Writer Alice Walker uses the term
“womanism” and says it is a movement that attempts to “valorize women’s
works in all their varieties and multitudes.” In other words, feminism, or
womanism, is an attempt to celebrate what it means to be a woman.
Remember Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman (Hear Me Roar)”?
Generally speaking, feminism, as well as feminist poetry, is a political,
social, and cultural stance that is pro-woman. That does not mean that a
feminist is anti-man. Most feminists preach a politics of coalition that brings
people together in a collective resistance of gender-based oppression, and
most feminists agree that it is important to celebrate women and their works.
So, in short, feminist poetry should celebrate women and their
achievements, as well as oppose gender-based oppression.
Feminist poetry draws heavily on the personal experiences of the female
poet because feminists believe that politics has a much broader meaning than
“governmental” and must include every action that has anything to do with
power relations. So, we see politics going on in the work force when a woman
can’t get a promotion and it’s due to the boss giving the job to “one of his
own—a male.” This type of action is just food for a poet. Other experiences
that they might write about include domestic violence, rape, pornography,
and the perception that a woman’s body is a sexual object.
Some feminist poets, such as Adrienne Rich, try to spur women on to
achieve up to their potential and to resist being used as a tool or an object by
others.
Feminist writers often joke about what it means to be a
feminist, since the term is often used in a derogatory way. British novelist
Rebecca West says, “I myself have never been able to find out precisely what
feminism is: I only know that other people call me a feminist whenever I
express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat or a prostitute.”
In studying women’s writing in America, feminists have raised
such questions as, “Why are so few female-authored texts featured in the
‘canon’ of ‘great American books’? Who established the standards by which
‘great books’ are judged, and whose interests do those standards serve? In
what ways, if any, are women’s texts different from men’s? Do women write
with ‘a different voice’ and, if they do, what does that voice sound like, what
does it say?”
This last question is one I want you to consider
when you read this week’s poetry. Do women write differently, and how
exactly is it different? What are they saying?
Here is
some background information on the poets for this week:
“We
Real Cool” by Gwendolyn Brooks (685)
Gwendolyn Brooks (born
1917), poet and novelist, is the first African-American to win a Pulitzer Prize.
She has a commitment to the black community and tries to celebrate its
ordinary lives and the realities of oppression (usually economic-based). Her
early work expresses a powerfully resistant voice that scrutinizes and
challenges existing racial and sexual oppression. Her later work, from 1960
on, is more political and her criticism of society is more out in the open. She
considers herself a spokeswoman for black solidarity and freedom. Her
concern for women’s lives is seen in her most famous poem “The Mother”
(not in your anthology, but worth looking up) when she unapologetically
examines the complexities of the speaker’s choice to abort her children.
Notice the last three lines:
Believe me, I loved you all.
Believe me, I knew you, though faintly, and I loved, I loved you All.
These three lines are believable due to their simplicity
(there are no metaphors, word inversions, or use of elaborate diction), and
the repetition, which is often used to drive a point home.
In
"We Real Cool," pay attention to the pauses and the breaks in the
lines. She deliberately sets certain words off from others. She does this for
effect. Also notice the diction (specific word choice). There are many “We”s in
the poem. This is a personal message. She is addressing the slacker. This is
strictly between her and them.
“Barbie Doll” by Marge
Piercy (700)
Marge Piercy (born 1936) says her work is
concerned with the inequality she sees in America—economic, sexual, and
racial. In “Barbie Doll,” the title alerts us to the world of childhood, so we are
not surprised in the first line by “This girlchild” or by “peepee” in the second
line. The stanza ends with the voice of a jeering child. The second stanza
drops the kid talk, adopting in its place the language of social science. We
have not, then, made much progress; the “girlchild” who, in the first stanza,
is treated like a Barbie Doll, is in the second treated like a healthy specimen, a
statistic. The third stanza sounds more intimate, but she is still an object, not
a person, and by the end of this stanza, there is a painful explosion. In the
fourth and final stanza, she is again a doll, lifeless and pretty.
Look up some of the unfamiliar words in this poem and you will see Piercy
making a very subtle statement about how society “molds” women.
“Metaphors” by Sylvia Plath (706)
Sylvia Plath
(1932-63) was a very gifted, yet troubled, writer. She inherited a bad case of
depression from her father’s side of the family and often struggled with the
desire to commit suicide. She finally succeeded when she was 31, by sticking
her head inside her gas oven. Despite this mental illness, she is considered a
major influence on later feminist writers of the 1960s and 70s. Her poems
mix comedic self-deprecation with forceful anger, and she speaks of themes
that have too often been treated only with piety, such as pregnancy. She
speaks loudly about the anger of being both betrayed and powerless (she was
very upset over both her husband’s literary success and infidelity), as we see
in “Metaphors.” She is also known for her stylistic accomplishments. For
instance, she blends near and slant rhymes in a free-form structure.
“Diving Into the Wreck” and “Living in Sin” by Adrienne Rich
(725; 947)
Adrienne Rich (born 1929) is considered to
be the most important, and influential, female writer in the women’s
movement. Over the years, hers has become one of the most eloquent,
provocative voices on the politics of sexuality, race, language, power, and
women’s culture. By far, in the history of my teaching poetry, she is the poet
that students prefer to read. She has written 19 volumes of poetry, three
collections of essays, and edited many literary journals. Her subject matter
includes racism, militarism, homophobia, anti-Semitism, and of course,
feminism. Many of her first poems question a woman’s role in society. She
married in 1953, and over the next five years, gave birth to three boys. Her
work reflects her early struggle to accept her lesbianism, a situation she still
did not fully understand in the 1960s. Critics did not like her bitter tone and
lack of emotional control. This rejection caused her to write “Necessities of
Life” (1966), with a focus on death as the sign of how occluded and erased
she felt when her own sense of coming into her rightful subject matter and
voice was denied. Rich later bounced back after moving to New York with her
husband (he committed suicide in 1970) and discovering the Woman’s
Movement. Rich has always dated her poems, arguing (against those earlier
mentioned critics) against the idea that poetry existed separately from the
poet’s life.
“Diving Into the Wreck” (1973) demonstrates a
progressive coming to power as Rich contends against the desolation
patriarchy enacts on the psychic landscape (men control, and damage, our
minds and lives). Rich is not really a confessional poet; she believes that she
is a “seer,” a witness for those who are speechless, a recorder for the
forgotten, and an inventor at the site where we were once erased. This
attitude can be clearly seen in “Diving Into the Wreck,” which is a poem about
sexual politics. In the poem, a woman “armed with a book of myths” (an
understanding of the lies society has created), and a camera and a knife (an
instrument of vision and an instrument of power) must take a scary step alone
off the “ladder” to explore the wreck. This sort of exploration can be done
only by the individual. One might add, by the way, that it is a new sort of
exploration, an exploration for which Rich had no maps. She must dive into a
forgotten ship (women’s lives) in order to resurrect their past. Her goal is to
find truth, not myth.
This poem is meant to be inspirational,
and it is just filled with symbolism. It is a criticism of patriarchy (male-
controlled society) but it is also a wake-up call for women, telling them to
take the risk, make a life, and leave your mark on society. She won a National
Book Award for her book, Diving Into the Wreck, and she accepted
it in the name of all women who are silenced. I think the setting of the poem
shows this silencing. The ship is at the bottom of a very deep body of water,
and it takes much courage to go down there--alone.
Now read
“Living in Sin” and "Daystar" by Rita Dove (803) and see how they
fit in as feminist works.
