Friday, 8 March 2013

2013 Literature in English Poetry Prediction

1) Any one of Keat's poems- Mostly sonnets
2) Lawrence poem- Maybe Snake
3) Heaney- Potato Digging/Casualty
4)A Browning Poem
5) London vs Chimney sweeper by Blake

Any 3 of these are possible Q's. These are just predictions, so please do not take my word for it
I am just studying Blake, Keats, Lawrence & Heaney.

You can't win a gamble unless you gamble, can you now?

Monday, 11 February 2013

Analysis of D.H. Lawrence’s “The Ship of Death”


“Have you built your ship of death, O have you?” D.H. Lawrence asks in his dark and compelling work of poetry entitled “The Ship of Death”. Written shortly before his own death in early 1930, the poem is divided into ten separate parts that proceed in what seems like a circular motion, efficiently chronicling the long and painful process of aging, the deceptive “suddenness” of death, and the pink, fleshy reappearance into the world with a miraculous rebirth. It centers itself around the images of a boat, our “ship of death” that allows the soul to survive the “soundless, ungurgling flood” that threatens to sweep us up and, if not for “the ship of death,” would swallow that little shred of ourselves that is left as the abysmal sea of eternity submerges “the last branches of the tree” of the individual’s earthly existence.
D.H. Lawrence uses excellent imagery when describing the process of aging and the woes of the elderly in this poem, beginning the piece with the idea that: “it is autumn [with] the falling fruit / and [that] the long journey towards oblivion” has begun. In this sense, he is speaking of the “autumn” of the body itself, when everything is wrinkled and sags and the ancient corporeal form in which the soul has resided for so long is nearing its eternal demise. The first forty lines of the piece, proceeding through the first half of the poem’s numbered stanzas, seem to beckon to the reader, crying “die the death”! as it moves through a slow, almost painful to read, approach to death itself. In the same sense that the dark and melancholy imagery (I.E. “The grim frost is at hand,” “The dark and endless ocean of the end,” ) increases the overall feeling of hopelessness, fear, and loss, the way Lawrence constructs this piece, dragging on and on but inevitably arriving at death nonetheless, makes the actual event all the more welcome when reached.
Some of Lawrence’s lines through this section are reminiscent of the opening passages of the second stanza of William Butler Yeats’ “Sailing to Byzantium,” where he states “An aged man is but a paltry thing, A tattered coat upon a stick”. Consider, for example, lines 32 - 34, where Lawrence suggests that “Already our bodies are fallen, bruised, badly bruised, / already our souls are oozing through the exit / of the cruel bruise.” Both communicate the ragged scab of a man that the most disturbing (and possibly leprous) elderly males eventually become, with the tell-tale smell of death hanging about them. The entire forty-line process of dying seems to reek of death! “Ah! Can’t you smell it?”
“Piecemeal the body dies,” begins stanza six, heralding the descent into the death of the individual and the coming of the flood which Lawrence associates with eternal death, but it is not until stanza eight that complete and utter death occurs, culminating with the line: “Everything is gone, the body is gone.” The climax of this little section of death is buried in lines 56 & 57, where it reads: “Now launch the small ship, now as the body dies / and life departs.” The actual process of death, like the process of aging and dying before it, seems to drag on and on, as does the actual process, (in most cases, especially violent ones, which it seems Lawrence was trying hardest to portray,) giving the individual time to construct his little “ship of death” and fill it with all manner of supplies. ( Lawrence mentions food, clothing, wine, and a ‘all accouterments’) It’s almost biblical, the way Lawrence uses the idea of a vessel built to allow the individual to survive a great flood, even going so far as to refer to it as “your little ark”. Apparently, however, Lawrence gets most of his imagery, indeed the entire “ship of death” idea from an ancient Viking death ritual where the deceased is lain on a raft (or boat) with a few of their earthly possessions, and sent “down the river,” as it were, after the boat has been set on fire. So, drawing from these two images, (Noah’s ark and the flaming death-raft,) Lawrence seems to have constructed a unique form of “ship,” one which, like the Viking rafts, carries the dead out upon the water, but at the same time seems to serve the purpose of preserving life, like the Ark. Lawrence’s spiral into the depths of death continues with the steady darkening and slipping into oblivion that begins with lines 65 & 66, where it reads “There is no port, there is nowhere to go / only the deepening blackness darkening still”. As the poem progresses from this point, the little ship promptly disappears, swallowed by the encroaching night of eternity and slipping into the sacred void of oblivion, until all seems utterly lost.
What happens next seems to cry out “but wait!” as eternity seems to finally part, revealing the hazy, pink dawn of rebirth. It does not start immediately, however, but is a slow, steady culmination which first makes its appearance at the beginning of stanza nine, where Lawrence speaks of the sudden materialization of a “thread” that “separates itself on the blackness,” and “fumes a little with pallor upon the dark.” As the poem progresses from this point, the melancholy feelings instilled by Lawrence throughout the earlier parts of the poem seem to evaporate, allowing the little thread to brighten and expand, becoming “the cruel dawn of coming back to life”. Our little ship has reappeared as dawn breaks, “faltering and lapsing / on the pink flood”. The individual re-appears near the end of the poem, seen “strange and lovely,” indicating the transference of the soul to a new body, one both unfamiliar, and yet beautiful in the way that infants are beautiful. Lawrence describes the individual as having a heart full of peace, which is reminiscent of how an infant is when he or she first finds its mother’s breast, and lays down in a calm, relaxed state of quiet love. That is, until the final line of stanza nine which hangs like a dark cloud on the horizon, ominous and full of a dark promise: “and the whole thing starts again.”
And so, we are born anew, age, die, and, having braved the torturous flood of oblivion, are again, born anew. In this sense, “The Ship of Death” is a circular piece, and could, theoretically, be read over and over again with no real definitive end. His use of autumn and winter, interspersed throughout the piece with the phases of night and day seem to communicate his central theme of dying, death, and rebirth in a way that is not only brilliant, but seems to hearken back to the days of the ancient Greek philosophers and the little riddles that arose from that period in human history. In all, it is an excellent and very well written piece which bravely dives into the darkest waters of oblivion and returns alive, yet remains haunted by the final line of the final stanza, which solemnly states the inevitability of death in seven carefully picked words, reading “For the voyage of oblivion awaits you.”

Analysis of D.H Lawrence's - Piano

The rhythm of the poem has a slow, reflective quality, accentuated by the punctuation. He mentions dangerously emotive words such as "heart" and "weeps" without saying that this is what he is doing at this moment. To those who have happy memories of childhood days at home, he is pulling the heartstrings. This is a word connection he did not, strangely, make with the piano strings - perhaps he was taking a gamble that our inner consciousness would make the subliminal connection.
The similarity of "clamour" and "glamour" is clever, but may not be be all that necessary to the general success of the poem. Lawrence then goes on to outline, that although he has achieved much of what he wanted to achieve as a man, in breaking out from his father's and his mother's bindings, in doing so he has lost something. Something ephemeral, priceless and dear. Most of us feel this. It is a necessary part of true maturity. Yet it hurts all the same.
Lawrence appears to accept that he is looking through rose-tinted spectacles, by his use of the word "glamour" for childish days. Glamour is accepted to be a sort of gloss - something which wears off and does not last. So here he shows that he is being realistic. This avoids sentimentality. Only at the end of the poem does he allow us to guess that, perhaps at some low point of depression or failure or guilt in his life - he may have felt such sorrow as to actually weep tears. Many people have things they wish they had done differently with their parents when growing up. It is only when we are adults ourselves that we realise how hard things may have been for them. He has prepared us for this sorrow by carefully setting the scene.
The question is how to speak of human emotion without slipping into sentimentality ourselves. Learning from Lawrence, we see that sentiment must never be gratuituous. It must be truly felt, simply expressed and speak directly. We can set the scene and evoke atmospheres by careful choice of word and rhythm, but if we indulge in passionate self-pity, sickly supplication and florid description we miss our target as our readers will be switched off.
If Lawrence's poem works, it may be because he speaks directly to our hearts about
a truth which we recognise.

Monday, 7 January 2013

Analysis of Keats'- On the Sea

In Keats’ ‘On the Sea’ we see the transcendence of the sea into a majestical, sacred force. It is not a human ruled asset for our exploitation, leisure or travel; it is God-like power that shows our minute nature against its sublime nature. From this sublime nature, it becomes a God-given source of rest and restoration. The human suffering of the senses is expressed in the lines: ‘who have your eyeballs vexed and tired… who ears are dinned with uproar rude… or fed too much with cloying melody’, but it is through the sea that we gain back our senses. By personifying the organs, an emotional resonance is then created in the audience to feel the presence of their suffering. However, Keats exclaims, ‘Oh ye!’ emphasising his advisory nature and eagerness to his revelation: ‘feast them upon the wideness of the sea’. The metaphorical description of the sea being something to feast on highlights it’s nourishing essence to the body, a vast wide banquet for one to feed on as a source for rest, peace and resolution from the blocked senses.
Furthermore, the polarity of the nature of sea is described: ‘Often tis in such a gentle temper found… when at last the winds of Heaven were unbound’. The oxymoron of gentle and temper emphasises it’s dual nature while the association of the Heavens emphasises both the god-power of the sea, but also the Romantic connection that nature was god – all powerful, awe inspiring and truly untameable.
Though the imagination, nature is revealed to be restorative and nourishing, not a mundane part of the environment that we use for our wellbeing, that can be restricted or understood by technology and logic. The creation of the everyday into the exotic has therefore given birth to a pantheistic appreciation of the environment through the imaginative exaltation of nature, as Wordsworth believed, Nature is a nurturer and restorer, a force whose restorative qualities could sooth the battered spirit and provide refuge.

Sunday, 6 January 2013

Analysis of Hopkins- “No Worst, There is None”


No Worst, There is None” is one of the poems that date from 1885 and are referred to as his “terrible sonnets”. This is not a comment on the quality of the poems but a reference to their subject matter, which is the experience of a man going through the terrors of severe depression, which he fears will end in either death or madness. In the case of the sonnet under review, the title, which also comprises the opening words, summarises the mood of the whole.
Hopkins was an innovator with verse forms and the inventor of the “curtal sonnet” of ten and a half lines. However, he stuck to the traditional fourteen line sonnet form for “No Worst”, with a distinct break in sense at the ninth line to form the octave and sestet of the Petrarchan sonnet. In some editions Hopkins’s sonnet is printed with a line break at this point to emphasis the two parts.
Hopkins also stuck to the ABBA ABBA rhyme scheme for the octave, which is the Petrarchan pattern, but for the sestet he used CDCDCD, which is not typical of either the Petrarchan or Shakespearean sonnet.
The sonnet form is often a vehicle for a carefully constructed formal poem in which an argument is expounded as a sort of conservation between octave and sestet. Many sonnets appear to be exercises in verbal dexterity and thus tend to be low on emotional content. It is not the form one might expect for a poem in which the poet is pouring out his soul in a state of despair. However, this is exactly what Hopkins is doing here in a poem that is remarkable for dealing solely with his state of mental suffering and analysing it in painful detail.
Hopkins begins by emphasising the depth of his despair:
“No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief,
More pangs will, schooled
at forepangs, wilder wring.”
Hopkins uses several poetic devices here to achieve his effect. For example, there is repetition (and thus reinforcement) of key words (pitched/pitch; pangs/forepangs) and alliteration in “will … wilder wring”. In particular, the ambiguity of “pitch” is effective in that the word can mean “thrown” and also refer to the level of a note in music (Hopkins was an accomplished musician as well as a poet). There is also the connotation of “pitch blackness”. All three meanings could be relevant here. The general sense of these lines is that the agony of grief is made worse by the pain that the sufferer feels due to remembering his earlier pains (“schooled at forepangs”). This is a highly accurate account of how a depressed person typically allows their grief to feed upon itself.
Hopkins, as a Jesuit priest, would naturally have sought solace in prayer, but in lines three and four he echoes the despairing words of Christ on the Cross (“Lord, why hast thou forsaken me?”):
“Comforter, where, where is your comforting?
Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?”
The following lines continue to build the grief, using some typical Hopkins word-form constructions such as “herds-long” to describe how his cries stretch out like a string of cattle walking past. His griefs “huddle in a main”, with “main” having the double meaning of “broad expanse” and “the most important part”. “Huddle” can also mean either “crowd together” or “drive hurriedly” (as in “the people were huddled towards the exit”).
Hopkins now expands his grief into something that is beyond himself. It is a “world-sorrow” that is “age-old” and in which he is now participating. In trying to seek a cause for his depression, Hopkins is convinced that it derives from the original sin that afflicts all people in all times, such that there is no escape from it. In fact, Hopkins appeared to be suffering from what is known as “endogenous depression” that is an illness in the way that influenza is an illness. There was therefore no underlying cause, but that was not going to stop the sufferer from seeking one. If one is convinced that one is being punished there must surely have been an offence that merited the punishment.
The poet now puts words into the mouth of “Fury”, who: “had shrieked ‘No ling- / ering! Let me be fell: force I must be brief”. It is interesting to note that Hopkins splits the word “lingering” between two lines, which not only allows “ling” to rhyme with other end-words in the octave but also makes the word “linger” when read. This is a good example of Hopkins stretching the sonnet form to fit his poetic purpose rather than allowing himself to be constrained by it.
“Fury” can be understood either in religious terms, as the “God of Righteousness” or as the power of truth expressing anger that is aimed at the evil inherent in the sufferer. The blow that causes the distress must be short and sharp, “fell” in the sense of “lethal” and “force” meaning “perforce” but with the overtone of “being forceful”, which is yet another example of Hopkins letting a word perform more than  one function.
The sestet comments on the octave in quieter tones. Hopkins expresses his mental condition in general terms:
“O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. … ”
In other words, the manic depressive condition can produce great highs and deep lows that the sufferer can switch between at any moment. No-one who has not experienced this can properly understand what is going on (“Hold them cheap / May who ne’er hung there”) and the anguish of despair cannot be endured for long (“Nor does long our small / Durance deal with that steep or deep. … ”). Hopkins uses the internal rhyme of “steep or deep” to good effect, especially in conjunction with “creep” at the end of the line, as this emphasises the connection between the highs and lows and the need to “creep / Wretch” into whatever comfort might be available.
At the end of the poem Hopkins seeks relief in the knowledge that “each day dies with sleep” and that this escape from the day’s terrors is always available. However, this is coupled with “all / Life death does end”, and this reference is ironic for a Catholic believer like Hopkins. Just as another terrible day may present itself tomorrow, death will only lead to an afterlife of punishment for the evils that he believes are inherent in him and are the cause of the earthly punishment that he is suffering now. This irony belies the poem’s opening line, because there is indeed something worse than the pain and grief of his condition, namely the everlasting pain that is to come. This fear is only adding to his current grief.
This poem is disturbing and painful to read, because the reader cannot help but feel something of the grief of the poet. It is all the more disturbing if the reader has been through a similar experience, or has lived with someone who has. They will also recognise the extra degree of anxiety that is added when the sufferer has strong religious convictions and believes that they are being punished for their sins.
The comfort for the reader is that Hopkins did recover from his depression during his last years, and that his writing of poems such as “No Worst” (and it must be remembered that they were not intended to be read by anyone else) was part of the self-imposed therapy that helped him to come to terms with his condition and find his escape from it.

Analysis of Gerard Manley Hopkins-"Felix Randal"

 Later in life, however, Hopkins began to question his purpose in life, as he was often sick and his faith was “tested sorely” (773). His poetry became much more pensive as a result. “Felix Randal” is a transitional work; while it still has a Christian theme, the poem has a much more reflective and personal tone than his former works.

In fact, though the title is “Felix Randal”, the poem is just as much and perhaps even more about Hopkins’ ministry. Note that Hopkins’ reaction to the news that Felix is dead is neither sorrow nor joy but a comment that Hopkins own duty toward Felix is “all-ended” (line 1,776). He does not go on to speak of the good times in the man’s life, but rather how his greatness diminished. He describes how he has watched the physical decline of this man, “…his mould of man, big-boned and hardy handsome/pining, pining, till time when reason rambled in it and some/Fatal four disorders, fleshed there, all contended” (lines 2-4,776). Felix Randal was a “farrier” (line 1,776), a blacksmith. It is interesting that his decline suits his profession; he loses his shape like a piece of metal in the forge, becoming amorphous.

The second stanza concentrates on Felix as the object of Hopkins’ ministries. Hopkins gives Felix Extreme Unction, “Sickness broke him. Impatient he cursed at first, but mended/Being anointed and all;…” (lines 5-6,776). Extreme Unction is the final sacrament in the Catholic Church, meant to prepare one’s soul to enter heaven. However, Felix’s attempt to skirt Hell began before the Anointing of the Sick near his deathbed, “though a heavenlier heart began some/Months earlier, since I had our sweet reprieve and ransom/Tendered to him” (lines 6-8,776). Notice that the emphasis is on the sacraments the man has received even more than the attitude change that has occurred. This is not a tale of a deathbed conversion. The focus is not on the dying man, but on Hopkins’ work with the man.

The next stanza is explicitly about Hopkins’ specific ministry to Felix. Hopkins describes the connection between the two of them, “This seeing the sick endears them to us, us too it endears./My tongue had taught thee comfort, touch had quenched thy tears,/Thy tears that touched my heart, child, Felix, poor Felix Randal” (lines 9-12,776). It is interesting that Hopkins portrays the relationship as reciprocal. Hopkins and Felix are both endeared to each other. Felix’s tears which he wipes away touch his heart. That a whole stanza is given to the mutual aspect of the relationship rather than just Hopkins’ one-sided ministry to the man is significant. Perhaps Hopkins was trying to console himself to the idea of ministry, that it was not a constant giving with nothing in return. He needed to know that his personal sufferings had a purpose. Not only that, he wanted his spiritual exercises, his writings, to be missionary. He longed for recognition and was “…preoccupied with his lack of an audience” (774).

The final stanza highlights the difference between the Felix Randal of life versus on his deathbed. In life, Felix Randal was a productive citizen, lively and “boisterous” (line 12,776). His work as a blacksmith garnered him respect, as he was “powerful amidst peers” (line 13,776). However, as he approached death, he seemed the exact opposite: weak, cursing, and unlikeable. Hopkins notes the distinct difference, “How far from then forethought of, all thy more boisterous years” (line 12,776). It is possible that this illustration of a distinct difference in personality and form between youth and old age had its roots in Hopkins’ own disenchantment with his vocation. His later years found him frustrated with a sense of “poetic infertility” (774). In addition, his ministries were tiring, as he later noted, “It made even life a burden to me” (773).

Maybe “Felix Randal” should really be titled “Gerard Manley Hopkins”, as Hopkins seems to have as much trouble reconciling himself to his life as Felix has to his deathbed. Hopkins, like Felix the blacksmith, created much in his early years, but later was overwhelmed by a sense of thwarted purpose. Indeed, the poem focuses more on Hopkins’ reactions and musings on Felix Randal than on Felix Randal himself

Saturday, 5 January 2013

Analysis - 'Punishment' - by Seamus Heaney

The poem "Punishment" by Seamus Heaney is a very vivid voyage through his imagination as he describes a corpse that was found in 1951 of a young girl who had been brutally tortured and killed as punishment for adultery in a way that was custom for the time period the body dates. Heaney writes as though he can see the girl near the time of her death and even feel her tethers and bonds as though he were experiencing it first hand. He uses excruciatingly detailed imagery giving the poem a very dark and ominous feel. Also, the use of enjambment is used very artfully to flow the reader along in a progression of thought, and moves seamlessly from past to present. He devotes the entire first half of the poem to description alone, with lines like "her shaved head / like a stubble of black corn," fifth stanza, that force the reader to picture the detestable manner in which she was treated.
The title, "Punishment," does not really tell the reader what to expect. It is one ambiguous word, which may mean different things to different people. However, one common part that could likely be assumed is everyone would describe punishment as being something that is deserved. Entering the poem with this in mind leads to a quick shock as the reader begins to realize what Heaney is describing. What is punishment? Punishment is defined as a penalty imposed for wrongdoing, but who decides what wrongdoings are and the appropriate punishment for each deed? Heaney draws more on this as he connects the girl found in the bog to those women who were punished during much of the turmoil and war in Ireland for having relations with the British. Heaney mentions in the last two stanzas of the poem that he did nothing as he watched those women being stripped and tarred in the streets, almost as if he is placing the blame partially on himself; not just himself, but all those, like Heaney who stood by and did nothing. The situations are similar in this way because even those people who were not directly involved in executing the punishment share the guilt of the mistreatment for their complacency. We are all complacent as things progress and wrongs are done all around us. It is the old evils paralleled to the new; they have changed very little. Heaney writes in stanza eight "I almost love you / but would have cast, I know, / the stones of silence." He imagines his own part in the events leading up to her death and they mirror his inaction in the end of the poem in reference to his present time.
There is also the possibility that he is receiving his own punishment in this piece. It starts out with all the feelings of the young girl being transferred to the first person. He feels the restraints that were placed upon her because they are symbolic of his own restraints: the feeling of being in a crowd and seeing someone become the subject of ridicule; those who defend the person become in party with the victim, and in the volatile condition of Ireland at the time, could have very well received similar punishment for taking their defense. Therefore, no one helps, they choose to remain part of the crowd, but their guilt becomes their burden and a punishment of its own. The "little adulteress," what crime did she commit but love. Her crime pales in comparison to the atrocity she received as punishment, just as those women who chose to associate with the British were dealt with unjustly. Heaney even seems to set himself up as the imaginary co-adulterer with his selection of words when describing the young girl in a very personal tone. He calls her "My poor scapegoat," and refers to a time before she was killed in stanza seven: "you were flaxen-haired, / undernourished, and your / tar-black face was beautiful." This may also be re-enforced by the voice choosing to mention the girls nipples in the cold wind, which to me seems out of place other than to illustrate her nakedness, not only to the elements but also to her peers, to those enacting this horrible judgment, and to the fact of approaching death she faces. It is as if there is a duality in his perception of her; he refers to her both lovingly and in an awkward cruelness that sets a very strange feel to the poem.

Sources: http://voices.yahoo.com/a-reading-response-poem-punishment-seamus-2881652.html?cat=37