Sunday, November 2, 2008
Introduction to the Finer Things Magazine
This literary magazine is composed of the revised works of Kelly Daniels' Writing About Literature class. The magazine begins with analyses of different poems, followed by analyses of various fictional short stories.
In the "comment" sections following each paper are the reflection papers written by each student that discuss his/her progress in the class. The artwork, provided by Karin Bergquist and Maria Ford, presents a visual accompaniment to the written works. Please enjoy this compilation of art and literature.
Sincerely,
The Production Editors
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Jarell and Forche: The Importance of War Poetry on Society by Rachel Ostberg
Poetry is one of man’s ultimate forms of creation. We use it not only to express our own feelings, opinions, or critiques, but also as a way to evoke emotion in others. Since poetry is such a strong form of art it often takes on the most difficult of subject matter; those subjects being love and hate, death, war, and religion. Poetry, however great it may be to read alone, most of the time is better when listened to, especially when it is read by its author. The author, being the creator of that piece of art, knowing the ins and outs of that poem and in what way it was intended to sound, can provide insight into that particular poem. Poetry readings “…whether by poets themselves or by other performers, are conventionally appreciated as a distinctive area of expressive culture, one necessarily set apart from direct political action…“ (Strine). Some authors, such as Carolyn Forche, author of “The Colonel”, do not find it useful to read her poetry aloud. Her reasoning includes the fact that an audience can walk away and forget the entire thing ever happened, but without poetry readings the life of the poem is lost, is it not? It can be argued that a reader can give life to a poem by themselves, but having the poet him/herself gives it a feeling not only of understanding, but it gives the narrator of the poem a voice that they were meant for. The added understanding is especially important in poems that deal with strong emotions or difficult subjects (which most poetry can be argued as). Two such poems that should be heard and analyzed are Carolyn Forche’s “The Colonel” and Randall Jarel’s “The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner.” Both poems expressing the horrors of war should be introduced to the public, performed by their authors and read by many because of the important images presented that cannot be ignored. Why then would such a writer as Carolyn Forche not want her poetry to be heard if her subject matter was important to her? Her reason is that the type of audience that …goes to an auditorium on a Thursday evening and hears someone speak about conditions in one country or another, and then has wine and cheese afterward with the person who is speaking and goes home to the life and the life does not change at all, that there is a kind of illusion that one has done their part (Forche).
This can be true, and I believe that cannot be denied, that there are those that will go to a poetry meeting and feel accomplished. Think of the type of people that donate to the Salvation Army once a year, maybe around Christmas time, and say “I’ve done my good dead for the year, I don’t have to do anything more.” If this type of writing was left unheard to the general public however, we can only imagine what will be left unsaid and what lives could be changed because of it.
Carolyn Forche’s poem “The Colonel” contains many important messages, not only about war, but also about poetry. The poem, a real-life incident from Forche’s life, begins with Forche and a friend of hers in the house of a colonel who is a part of the political riots occurring in El Salvador at the time. As the colonel, his wife, and his guests are eating dinner, the colonel suddenly exit’s the room and returns with a sack filled with human ears. After dumping them on the table he picks one up and sets it in a glass of water where Forche describes it as “[coming] alive there.” The colonel then proceeds to say “I am tired of fooling around… [a]s for the rights of anyone, tell your people to go fuck themselves.” The colonel ends the night sweeping the ears to the floor and holding his glass of wine in the air saying, “[s]omething for your poetry, no?” The poems ends with the image of some of the ears facing the ceiling and some not.
So then what is it about this type of poetry that Forche is so against reading in public? A person can understand that there are indeed people that will not gain anything from “The Colonel” in a poetry reading besides the mental image of an older man holding a human ear up to Carolyn Forche’s face. However, a person does not have to look too far to find substance in “The Colonel” if they want to gain something from the poem. The poem opens painting a scene of the colonel’s house. His children performing daily activities, the TV on in the background, his wife carrying a try of coffee. Outside are “[b]roken bottles…embedded in the walls around the house to scoop the kneecaps from a man’s legs or cut his hands to lace. On the windows there were gratings like those is liquor stores.” This is a fairly violent and brutal image. Here is where the audience knows not all is well at this time and place. After the parrot says “hello” the colonel tells it to shut up and pushes himself away from the table. Returning with a bag of human ears and pouring them out on the table, the first strong statement is made. Though we do not know where the colonel obtained all of these ears, we can assume he collected them from the innocent victims of the riots in El Salvador. Or could we even say that these victims are innocent? If they choose to be ignorant to the riots and the political oppression occurring they are as much part of the problem as the men involved with the riots. And so, here the ears symbolize the part of society that ignores the political issues on El Salvador. The “dried peach halves” ears have no home, no body part to be a part of any longer, and thus cannot actually hear any longer. They are the people that never cared about the riots, whether they knew about them or not, and never did anything to stop them. And yet they are innocent lives, and as the colonel states, “I am tired of fooling around” the audience realizes that these political problems have been going on for too long and there are too many silent, ignorant, and innocent lives being wasted.
The colonel drops an ear into a glass of water and “[i]t came alive there.” “As for the rights of anyone, tell your people they can go fuck themselves” he says, and sweeps the ears to the floor. The audience needs to wonder, who is “your people” referring to? Poets? Could it possibly be a statement of the equality that poetry attempts to give everyone? Is the colonel even addressing Forche at this point? Backtracking a few lines and reading more into Forche’s description of the ear in the water she had said “[i]t came alive there” and so the colonel could be addressing the newly alive ear, especially if the ear represents the ignorant society. The colonel then addresses Forche. “Something for your poetry, no?” he said after flinging all the ears onto the floor. “Some of the ears on the floor caught this scrap of his voice. Some of the ears on the floor were pressed to the ground.” This is an especially important two sentences. The ears pressed against the floor cannot hear what the colonel, or even what Forche and the rest of the world are saying about this entire political subject and are thus ignorant to any problems. The fact that there are human rights at risk in the political problem that is El Salvador, to have ignorant ears is a dangerous thing.
Going through Forche’s poem “The Colonel” an audience that cares to do so can find many interesting arguments and references to ignorance and the brutality of war. While it is understandable that Forche does not feel as if reading her poetry out loud does any good to a general audience, there are those that can be changed by such poetry readings, as cliché as that may sound. Besides possibly gaining new knowledge or insight on the subject, poetry readings, especially of poems such as Forche’s and even Randall Jarrell’s, can spark an interest in a particular subject. Randall Jarrell’s poem “The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner” uses shocking fetus imagery to describe the horrors and random, unbiased side of war.
From line one of the poem, Jarrell uses the imagery of birth. The narrator “[f]rom [his] mother’s sleep… fell into the State”, here the State being, the reader may assume, the military. In the second line the narrator “[h]unched in its belly till [his] wet fur froze.” It is essentially as if the soldier is transferred from the womb of his mother into another larger and metal womb; essentially, the State become his new mother, his new care-giver. The soldier “[s]ix miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life, [he] woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.” Suddenly the narrator is expelled from his metal mother and he is suddenly rushed into the world of war. The “nightmare fighters” surround him and he is suddenly gone. “When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.” The ending imagery is akin to that of abortion “…since metaphorically the gunner is a fetus in a womb, the washing out of his remains by introducing a fluid under pressure clearly suggests one of the common procedures for ejecting a fetus after abortion” (Horner). Jarrell could be commenting on the suddenness of death in war. The unbiased death that comes in fighting, whether you are an innocent or part or the military, everyone is fair game and it can happen in the amount of time it takes a person to read one line of Jarrell’s poem. The poem mirrors this suddenness effectively as it is first, only five lines, and out of nowhere, in the fifth line the audience is suddenly hit with the words “[w]hen I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.” There is an underlying tone of cruelty also. The way in which the ball turret gunner is simply washed away makes it sound as if his life meant nothing to the State; that as he was separated from his mother his life essentially lose meaning and individuality. The callousness of the act of washing away the dead soldier is similar to the way in which fetuses are aborted. Quick, before they have a personality, a name, a soul, abort them! The quick and dirty act is soon done and the ball turret gunner is forgotten.
Both poems are powerful on paper and a close reading of each poem brings forth interesting ideas that are worth taking a closer look at. For an audience to hear the authors read their creations would give their work an extra step, that extra heart and emotion that sometimes “make or break” a work. Even though Carolyn Forche makes a good argument as to why certain poetry, or at least her own, should not be presented at poetry readings, she should remember that there will be some that will be moved in some way or another. Merely taking a closer look at these two poems about war and brutality only strengthens the argument that they should be read to a general public because they give the public something to think about.
Works Cited
Forche, Carolyn. "A TPQ Interview: Jill Taft-Kaufman Talks With Carolyn Forche." Interview. Text and Performance Quarterly 1990: 61-70.
Strine, Mary S. "Protocols of Power: Performance, Pleasure, and the Textual Economy." Text and Performance Quarterly 12 (1992): 61-67.
Horner, Patrick J.; Jarrell’s ’The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner.’ Explicator, 1978; 36 (4): 9-10.
This can be true, and I believe that cannot be denied, that there are those that will go to a poetry meeting and feel accomplished. Think of the type of people that donate to the Salvation Army once a year, maybe around Christmas time, and say “I’ve done my good dead for the year, I don’t have to do anything more.” If this type of writing was left unheard to the general public however, we can only imagine what will be left unsaid and what lives could be changed because of it.
Carolyn Forche’s poem “The Colonel” contains many important messages, not only about war, but also about poetry. The poem, a real-life incident from Forche’s life, begins with Forche and a friend of hers in the house of a colonel who is a part of the political riots occurring in El Salvador at the time. As the colonel, his wife, and his guests are eating dinner, the colonel suddenly exit’s the room and returns with a sack filled with human ears. After dumping them on the table he picks one up and sets it in a glass of water where Forche describes it as “[coming] alive there.” The colonel then proceeds to say “I am tired of fooling around… [a]s for the rights of anyone, tell your people to go fuck themselves.” The colonel ends the night sweeping the ears to the floor and holding his glass of wine in the air saying, “[s]omething for your poetry, no?” The poems ends with the image of some of the ears facing the ceiling and some not.
So then what is it about this type of poetry that Forche is so against reading in public? A person can understand that there are indeed people that will not gain anything from “The Colonel” in a poetry reading besides the mental image of an older man holding a human ear up to Carolyn Forche’s face. However, a person does not have to look too far to find substance in “The Colonel” if they want to gain something from the poem. The poem opens painting a scene of the colonel’s house. His children performing daily activities, the TV on in the background, his wife carrying a try of coffee. Outside are “[b]roken bottles…embedded in the walls around the house to scoop the kneecaps from a man’s legs or cut his hands to lace. On the windows there were gratings like those is liquor stores.” This is a fairly violent and brutal image. Here is where the audience knows not all is well at this time and place. After the parrot says “hello” the colonel tells it to shut up and pushes himself away from the table. Returning with a bag of human ears and pouring them out on the table, the first strong statement is made. Though we do not know where the colonel obtained all of these ears, we can assume he collected them from the innocent victims of the riots in El Salvador. Or could we even say that these victims are innocent? If they choose to be ignorant to the riots and the political oppression occurring they are as much part of the problem as the men involved with the riots. And so, here the ears symbolize the part of society that ignores the political issues on El Salvador. The “dried peach halves” ears have no home, no body part to be a part of any longer, and thus cannot actually hear any longer. They are the people that never cared about the riots, whether they knew about them or not, and never did anything to stop them. And yet they are innocent lives, and as the colonel states, “I am tired of fooling around” the audience realizes that these political problems have been going on for too long and there are too many silent, ignorant, and innocent lives being wasted.
The colonel drops an ear into a glass of water and “[i]t came alive there.” “As for the rights of anyone, tell your people they can go fuck themselves” he says, and sweeps the ears to the floor. The audience needs to wonder, who is “your people” referring to? Poets? Could it possibly be a statement of the equality that poetry attempts to give everyone? Is the colonel even addressing Forche at this point? Backtracking a few lines and reading more into Forche’s description of the ear in the water she had said “[i]t came alive there” and so the colonel could be addressing the newly alive ear, especially if the ear represents the ignorant society. The colonel then addresses Forche. “Something for your poetry, no?” he said after flinging all the ears onto the floor. “Some of the ears on the floor caught this scrap of his voice. Some of the ears on the floor were pressed to the ground.” This is an especially important two sentences. The ears pressed against the floor cannot hear what the colonel, or even what Forche and the rest of the world are saying about this entire political subject and are thus ignorant to any problems. The fact that there are human rights at risk in the political problem that is El Salvador, to have ignorant ears is a dangerous thing.
Going through Forche’s poem “The Colonel” an audience that cares to do so can find many interesting arguments and references to ignorance and the brutality of war. While it is understandable that Forche does not feel as if reading her poetry out loud does any good to a general audience, there are those that can be changed by such poetry readings, as cliché as that may sound. Besides possibly gaining new knowledge or insight on the subject, poetry readings, especially of poems such as Forche’s and even Randall Jarrell’s, can spark an interest in a particular subject. Randall Jarrell’s poem “The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner” uses shocking fetus imagery to describe the horrors and random, unbiased side of war.
From line one of the poem, Jarrell uses the imagery of birth. The narrator “[f]rom [his] mother’s sleep… fell into the State”, here the State being, the reader may assume, the military. In the second line the narrator “[h]unched in its belly till [his] wet fur froze.” It is essentially as if the soldier is transferred from the womb of his mother into another larger and metal womb; essentially, the State become his new mother, his new care-giver. The soldier “[s]ix miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life, [he] woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.” Suddenly the narrator is expelled from his metal mother and he is suddenly rushed into the world of war. The “nightmare fighters” surround him and he is suddenly gone. “When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.” The ending imagery is akin to that of abortion “…since metaphorically the gunner is a fetus in a womb, the washing out of his remains by introducing a fluid under pressure clearly suggests one of the common procedures for ejecting a fetus after abortion” (Horner). Jarrell could be commenting on the suddenness of death in war. The unbiased death that comes in fighting, whether you are an innocent or part or the military, everyone is fair game and it can happen in the amount of time it takes a person to read one line of Jarrell’s poem. The poem mirrors this suddenness effectively as it is first, only five lines, and out of nowhere, in the fifth line the audience is suddenly hit with the words “[w]hen I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.” There is an underlying tone of cruelty also. The way in which the ball turret gunner is simply washed away makes it sound as if his life meant nothing to the State; that as he was separated from his mother his life essentially lose meaning and individuality. The callousness of the act of washing away the dead soldier is similar to the way in which fetuses are aborted. Quick, before they have a personality, a name, a soul, abort them! The quick and dirty act is soon done and the ball turret gunner is forgotten.
Both poems are powerful on paper and a close reading of each poem brings forth interesting ideas that are worth taking a closer look at. For an audience to hear the authors read their creations would give their work an extra step, that extra heart and emotion that sometimes “make or break” a work. Even though Carolyn Forche makes a good argument as to why certain poetry, or at least her own, should not be presented at poetry readings, she should remember that there will be some that will be moved in some way or another. Merely taking a closer look at these two poems about war and brutality only strengthens the argument that they should be read to a general public because they give the public something to think about.
Works Cited
Forche, Carolyn. "A TPQ Interview: Jill Taft-Kaufman Talks With Carolyn Forche." Interview. Text and Performance Quarterly 1990: 61-70.
Strine, Mary S. "Protocols of Power: Performance, Pleasure, and the Textual Economy." Text and Performance Quarterly 12 (1992): 61-67.
Horner, Patrick J.; Jarrell’s ’The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner.’ Explicator, 1978; 36 (4): 9-10.
Everyday Gods: Walt Whitman and Allen Ginsberg by Kennen Hootman
It is the poet’s job to capture the world around him and attempt to confine it into words, lines, and stanzas. After its creation, the poem becomes an immortal object that will transcend time and death. The ability to create such a work of literature is like taking on the work of a god in the sense that only the godly can create immortality. Walt Whitman and Allen Ginsberg write about the everyday images of the world and entrap them into words in their poems “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” and “A Supermarket in California.” It is by writing these two poems that Whitman and Ginsberg elevate themselves to the level of a god by taking the influence in the common images that surround them and creating it into a new world, the poetry. However, Whitman and Ginsberg have completely different views on the common images of life. Whitman experiences the images and reports on them in “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” while Ginsberg is searching for the images to write about, looking particularly at Whitman’s poetry.
It is important to examine how Whitman and Ginsberg view the world that they live in. This is important because the poet’s worldview will influence the ideas of their poetry and inspire how they write. Unlike many writers, Whitman did not receive a formal education and therefore did not receive a formal introduction into canonized poetry. He did not have the classic poetry that came before him to inspire him to become a poet. Rather than poetry, Whitman “had substantial experience as a newspaper printer, editor, and reporter” (Parker 162). Therefore, Whitman’s worldview was heavily influences by the topics and practicalities of the newspaper.
Between 1840 and 1860, Whitman worked for various New York City newspapers and therefore had a lot of experience working not only articles and stories, but also how these articles words in general should be formatted on the page. “As a printer, he had been trained to see language in terms of blocks of type and proofs to be arranged and edited rather than composed” (Parker 165). Rather than seeing sentences or paragraphs, Whitman saw each individual letter as a separate piece of a puzzle, drastically affecting the outcome of his works based upon its placement. In his poetry, Whitman’s “involvement extended beyond that of authorial approval of work commissioned, to participation in the practicalities of printing the book” (Parker 161). Working as a newspaper editor influenced the manner in which Whitman placed the poem on a piece of paper and how he viewed the poem once it was placed on that sheet of paper. This added to the accessibility of the poetry because the form concisely displayed its meaning, much like a newspaper article must clearly display its intentions.
Whitman, however, was not only influenced by the form and technicalities of the newspaper, but also by the topics presented in newspaper articles. “Whitman borrowed the content of newspaper editorials and reports for the subjects of his poetry; police court reports, suicides, prostitutes, and firemen” (Parker 162). The fact that Whitman borrowed themes from the newspaper aided in his poems having at times more relatable topics to the readers. The reasoning why Whitman’s poetry would be more relatable to his readers is because of the rise of the newspaper in the 1800’s. “[C]irculation for the city’s newspapers rose from under 10,000 in 1830 to six figures in 1860” (Parker 162). Therefore, as more people read the newspaper, the more they became familiar with the subjects written about in the paper. These subjects became the daily features in the lives of newspaper readers and thus became what they were most comfortable with. The same readers would then be familiar with Whitman’s poetry because he borrowed his topics from the newspaper subjects.
Just like he reported news for the newspaper, Whitman reported his experiences in his poetry. Whitman often presented himself “as a member of, and a spokesman for, this evolving urban class” (Parker 164). He is able to do this because of how commonplace the newspaper became in society. This idea was also present in his poetry. One such poem that expresses every day ideas and subjects is Whitman’s “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.” In this poem, Whitman discusses seeing the every day faces and every day occurrences of New York City. Much like the mundane technicalities of the newspaper interest him, it is the common activities that interest Whitman as evidenced in the line “Crowds of men and women attired in usual costumes! How curious you are to me!” (Whitman 2). It seems that Whitman is most interested in the idea that people all see the same things, yet have different reactions to them, as stated in the lines “[J]ust as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt” or “ [J]ust as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of a crowd” (Whitman 3).
Whitman experienced all of the same experiences that another person in the same place would experience. However, Whitman is so inspired by these images that they influenced him to record this information in the form of a poem. By capturing these experiences, he makes the common aspects of life last beyond his initial experience, creating a whole new world through the poem, making the experiences live longer than he shall. Whitman also makes his spirit transcend death in “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.” The fact that he is a character in the poem attaches him to the immortal images. Especially when Whitman states, “Closer yet I approach you/ What thought you have of me, I had as much of you, I laid my stores in advance/I consider’d long and seriously of you before you were born,” he makes himself into a god figure by saying that he knew of all readers to come after of them and considered them in his poetry (Whitman 4).
The images continue to return to Whitman, despite whatever he is doing. “In the day, among crowds of people, sometimes they came upon me, / in my walks home late at night, or as I lay in my bed, they came upon me” (Whitman 3). Whitman, however, is not the only poet that is influenced by the common images that surround him. In the poem “A Supermarket in California,” Allen Ginsberg speaks of walking within a supermarket while “shopping for images” (“A Supermarket in California” 966). Ginsberg is not only searching for common images though; he is searching for the images of various poems that he was influenced by, with the primary poet who’s images that Ginsberg is searching for being those of Walt Whitman.
Ginsberg’s worldview was very much shaped by the poems of Walt Whitman, even going as far to say that Whitman’s poems “serve as candid models for my own verse to this day” (“Whitman’s Influence” 230). Ginsberg not only describes how Whitman’s poetry has influenced him, but has also spoken on how Whitman has influenced poetry in general. Ginsberg describes Whitman’s poems as prefiguring “the brief ad clear-eyed sketches of his poetic grandchildren the Imagist and Objectivist poets W.C. Williams and Charles Reznikoff” (“Whitman’s Influence” 230). With that statement, Ginsberg says that Whitman’s influence not only passes directly from Whitman to himself, but also passes through every poet that came in between the two, such as the modernist poets. It can be said then that Whitman himself becomes a god of poetry, with all that follow him becoming his disciples. Ginsberg lists himself as one of these disciples.
Whitman becomes a character in Ginsberg’s poem when Ginsberg states “What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman…” or “Where are we going, Walt Whitman?” (“A Supermarket in California” 967). The appearance of Whitman in Ginsberg’s poem causes Whitman to become a supernatural figure. He is transcending death or mortality by appearing to Ginsberg in the supermarket, much like a god figure. However, Whitman appears in a supermarket, a mundane place to have such a profound appearance of the supernatural. This is an example of how the extraordinary can appear in the most ordinary situations, which is what Ginsberg and Whitman describe in their poetry.
Ginsberg evokes Whitman in order to find the inspiration to create his own poetry. However, Ginsberg inadequately reports is experiences and therefore needs to have Whitman as a guide, going as far to call Whitman a “father” and a “courage teacher” (“A Supermarket in California 966). Not only does this demonstrate Ginsberg’s need for help from his struggles, but it also further elevates Whitman as a god by listing him as significantly above Ginsberg rather than as a peer.
Ginsberg states that he “walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache/ self conscious looking at the full moon” (“A Supermarket in California” 966). The fact that Ginsberg states that he has a headache suggests the idea that he could possibly be frustrated by whatever poem he may be currently working on. Also, the fact that Ginsberg mentions he “walked down the sidestreets under the trees” while “looking at the full moon” parallels themes in “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” where Whitman states “ I too walked the streets of Manhattan Island, and bathed in the waters around it” (Whitman 3). Later, while shopping in the supermarket, Ginsberg states that he is “dreaming of your enumerations” (“A Supermarket in California” 966). This is a direct reference to Whitman’s practice of writing enumerations, or lists, in his poetry; a practice that he borrowed from the newspapers. Ginsberg is acting as the disciple to Whitman the god.
Ginsberg makes himself transcend death and become the divine also by taking the most mundane aspects of his experience and capturing it in this poetry. He does this by taking an ordinary visit to the supermarket and making it remarkable, not only by having the spirit of Walt Whitman become a character, but also through his images. Ginsberg mentions “wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes,” taking the common and creating outrageous imagery from them (“A Supermarket in California” 966). By enclosing these images in a poem that will be forever attached to his name, Ginsberg makes himself in to a creator of the immortal and therefore into a god figure as well.
Ginsberg could see the extradinordiary in the most ordinary places; having a vision of Walt Whitman appear to him at the most ordinary of places, the supermarket. However, by capturing these experiences, Ginsberg is making himself into the god figure as well by creating a new life out of the mundane in his poetry. Whitman does the same in his poems, reporting on everyday life like a newspaper reporter. He also transcends death by capturing his experiences and entrapping them in a poem that could last forever. It is through these means that Whitman and Ginsberg make themselves god of the everyday, immortalizing the profane, making it and themselves into the sacred.
Works Cited
Ginsberg, Allen. “A Supermarket in California.” Perrine’s Literature: Structure, Sound, and Sense. 10th Ed. Thomas R. Arp, Greg Johnson. Boston, MA: Wadsworth Cengage Learning. 966-967.
Ginsberg, Allen. “Whitman’s Influence: A Mountain Too Vast to be Seen.” Sulfur. 31. (1992): 229- 230.
Parker, Simon. “Unrhymed Modernity: New York City, The Popular Newspaper Page, and thee Forms of Whitman’s Poetry.” Walt Whitman Quarterly Review. 16. 3.4 (1999): 161-171.
Whitman, Walt. “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.” Leaves of Grass. Philadelphia: David McKay, [c1900]; Bartleby.com, 1999. www.bartleby.com/142.
It is important to examine how Whitman and Ginsberg view the world that they live in. This is important because the poet’s worldview will influence the ideas of their poetry and inspire how they write. Unlike many writers, Whitman did not receive a formal education and therefore did not receive a formal introduction into canonized poetry. He did not have the classic poetry that came before him to inspire him to become a poet. Rather than poetry, Whitman “had substantial experience as a newspaper printer, editor, and reporter” (Parker 162). Therefore, Whitman’s worldview was heavily influences by the topics and practicalities of the newspaper.
Between 1840 and 1860, Whitman worked for various New York City newspapers and therefore had a lot of experience working not only articles and stories, but also how these articles words in general should be formatted on the page. “As a printer, he had been trained to see language in terms of blocks of type and proofs to be arranged and edited rather than composed” (Parker 165). Rather than seeing sentences or paragraphs, Whitman saw each individual letter as a separate piece of a puzzle, drastically affecting the outcome of his works based upon its placement. In his poetry, Whitman’s “involvement extended beyond that of authorial approval of work commissioned, to participation in the practicalities of printing the book” (Parker 161). Working as a newspaper editor influenced the manner in which Whitman placed the poem on a piece of paper and how he viewed the poem once it was placed on that sheet of paper. This added to the accessibility of the poetry because the form concisely displayed its meaning, much like a newspaper article must clearly display its intentions.
Whitman, however, was not only influenced by the form and technicalities of the newspaper, but also by the topics presented in newspaper articles. “Whitman borrowed the content of newspaper editorials and reports for the subjects of his poetry; police court reports, suicides, prostitutes, and firemen” (Parker 162). The fact that Whitman borrowed themes from the newspaper aided in his poems having at times more relatable topics to the readers. The reasoning why Whitman’s poetry would be more relatable to his readers is because of the rise of the newspaper in the 1800’s. “[C]irculation for the city’s newspapers rose from under 10,000 in 1830 to six figures in 1860” (Parker 162). Therefore, as more people read the newspaper, the more they became familiar with the subjects written about in the paper. These subjects became the daily features in the lives of newspaper readers and thus became what they were most comfortable with. The same readers would then be familiar with Whitman’s poetry because he borrowed his topics from the newspaper subjects.
Just like he reported news for the newspaper, Whitman reported his experiences in his poetry. Whitman often presented himself “as a member of, and a spokesman for, this evolving urban class” (Parker 164). He is able to do this because of how commonplace the newspaper became in society. This idea was also present in his poetry. One such poem that expresses every day ideas and subjects is Whitman’s “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.” In this poem, Whitman discusses seeing the every day faces and every day occurrences of New York City. Much like the mundane technicalities of the newspaper interest him, it is the common activities that interest Whitman as evidenced in the line “Crowds of men and women attired in usual costumes! How curious you are to me!” (Whitman 2). It seems that Whitman is most interested in the idea that people all see the same things, yet have different reactions to them, as stated in the lines “[J]ust as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt” or “ [J]ust as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of a crowd” (Whitman 3).
Whitman experienced all of the same experiences that another person in the same place would experience. However, Whitman is so inspired by these images that they influenced him to record this information in the form of a poem. By capturing these experiences, he makes the common aspects of life last beyond his initial experience, creating a whole new world through the poem, making the experiences live longer than he shall. Whitman also makes his spirit transcend death in “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.” The fact that he is a character in the poem attaches him to the immortal images. Especially when Whitman states, “Closer yet I approach you/ What thought you have of me, I had as much of you, I laid my stores in advance/I consider’d long and seriously of you before you were born,” he makes himself into a god figure by saying that he knew of all readers to come after of them and considered them in his poetry (Whitman 4).
The images continue to return to Whitman, despite whatever he is doing. “In the day, among crowds of people, sometimes they came upon me, / in my walks home late at night, or as I lay in my bed, they came upon me” (Whitman 3). Whitman, however, is not the only poet that is influenced by the common images that surround him. In the poem “A Supermarket in California,” Allen Ginsberg speaks of walking within a supermarket while “shopping for images” (“A Supermarket in California” 966). Ginsberg is not only searching for common images though; he is searching for the images of various poems that he was influenced by, with the primary poet who’s images that Ginsberg is searching for being those of Walt Whitman.
Ginsberg’s worldview was very much shaped by the poems of Walt Whitman, even going as far to say that Whitman’s poems “serve as candid models for my own verse to this day” (“Whitman’s Influence” 230). Ginsberg not only describes how Whitman’s poetry has influenced him, but has also spoken on how Whitman has influenced poetry in general. Ginsberg describes Whitman’s poems as prefiguring “the brief ad clear-eyed sketches of his poetic grandchildren the Imagist and Objectivist poets W.C. Williams and Charles Reznikoff” (“Whitman’s Influence” 230). With that statement, Ginsberg says that Whitman’s influence not only passes directly from Whitman to himself, but also passes through every poet that came in between the two, such as the modernist poets. It can be said then that Whitman himself becomes a god of poetry, with all that follow him becoming his disciples. Ginsberg lists himself as one of these disciples.
Whitman becomes a character in Ginsberg’s poem when Ginsberg states “What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman…” or “Where are we going, Walt Whitman?” (“A Supermarket in California” 967). The appearance of Whitman in Ginsberg’s poem causes Whitman to become a supernatural figure. He is transcending death or mortality by appearing to Ginsberg in the supermarket, much like a god figure. However, Whitman appears in a supermarket, a mundane place to have such a profound appearance of the supernatural. This is an example of how the extraordinary can appear in the most ordinary situations, which is what Ginsberg and Whitman describe in their poetry.
Ginsberg evokes Whitman in order to find the inspiration to create his own poetry. However, Ginsberg inadequately reports is experiences and therefore needs to have Whitman as a guide, going as far to call Whitman a “father” and a “courage teacher” (“A Supermarket in California 966). Not only does this demonstrate Ginsberg’s need for help from his struggles, but it also further elevates Whitman as a god by listing him as significantly above Ginsberg rather than as a peer.
Ginsberg states that he “walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache/ self conscious looking at the full moon” (“A Supermarket in California” 966). The fact that Ginsberg states that he has a headache suggests the idea that he could possibly be frustrated by whatever poem he may be currently working on. Also, the fact that Ginsberg mentions he “walked down the sidestreets under the trees” while “looking at the full moon” parallels themes in “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” where Whitman states “ I too walked the streets of Manhattan Island, and bathed in the waters around it” (Whitman 3). Later, while shopping in the supermarket, Ginsberg states that he is “dreaming of your enumerations” (“A Supermarket in California” 966). This is a direct reference to Whitman’s practice of writing enumerations, or lists, in his poetry; a practice that he borrowed from the newspapers. Ginsberg is acting as the disciple to Whitman the god.
Ginsberg makes himself transcend death and become the divine also by taking the most mundane aspects of his experience and capturing it in this poetry. He does this by taking an ordinary visit to the supermarket and making it remarkable, not only by having the spirit of Walt Whitman become a character, but also through his images. Ginsberg mentions “wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes,” taking the common and creating outrageous imagery from them (“A Supermarket in California” 966). By enclosing these images in a poem that will be forever attached to his name, Ginsberg makes himself in to a creator of the immortal and therefore into a god figure as well.
Ginsberg could see the extradinordiary in the most ordinary places; having a vision of Walt Whitman appear to him at the most ordinary of places, the supermarket. However, by capturing these experiences, Ginsberg is making himself into the god figure as well by creating a new life out of the mundane in his poetry. Whitman does the same in his poems, reporting on everyday life like a newspaper reporter. He also transcends death by capturing his experiences and entrapping them in a poem that could last forever. It is through these means that Whitman and Ginsberg make themselves god of the everyday, immortalizing the profane, making it and themselves into the sacred.
Works Cited
Ginsberg, Allen. “A Supermarket in California.” Perrine’s Literature: Structure, Sound, and Sense. 10th Ed. Thomas R. Arp, Greg Johnson. Boston, MA: Wadsworth Cengage Learning. 966-967.
Ginsberg, Allen. “Whitman’s Influence: A Mountain Too Vast to be Seen.” Sulfur. 31. (1992): 229- 230.
Parker, Simon. “Unrhymed Modernity: New York City, The Popular Newspaper Page, and thee Forms of Whitman’s Poetry.” Walt Whitman Quarterly Review. 16. 3.4 (1999): 161-171.
Whitman, Walt. “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.” Leaves of Grass. Philadelphia: David McKay, [c1900]; Bartleby.com, 1999. www.bartleby.com/142.
Death, Sex, and the Stages of Grief by Maria Ford
How can we cope with the inevitability of death? Writers like A.E. Housman understand the need to confront life’s troubles with their work: “But take it: if the smack is sour, the better for the embittered hour…” (Housman 651). A poet can better confront the unhappy parts of reality – like death – by “smack[ing]” themselves with it in a poem (Housman 651). Donne’s “Death, be not proud” and Dickinson’s “Because I could not stop for Death” are both attempts to come to terms with death by personifying it. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross is a Swiss-born psychiatrist who studied the terminally ill and discussed her findings in On Death and Dying. Kubler-Ross identified five stages of grief a dying patient goes through: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Another psychiatrist, Ellen Greenberger, found that sexualizing death either increased or decreased a person’s anxiety about dying (Kastenbaum and Aisenberg 141). Although both poems explore Death’s sexuality, the speaker of “Death, be not proud”, does not come to terms with death as smoothly as the speaker in “Because I could not stop for Death”. Donne’s speaker is in the anger stage of the grieving process and uses sex metaphors as a means to mock Death. The speaker of “Because I could not stop for Death” however, has reached the stage of acceptance, and views Death as a gentlemanly lover.
Donne and Dickinson grapple with death by personifying it, an approach that writers, artists – and the dying - have used for centuries (Kastenbaum and Aisenberg 141). Donne and Dickinson are seeking “a source of comfort, and intimation that [they] will be welcomed when [they have] passed through the transition of death” (Kastenbaum and Aisenberg 140). The appearance of personified death tends to reflect the society the individual is from. For example, death tends to be personified as whichever gender is more powerful: female in a matriarchal society, male in a patriarchal society (Kastenbaum and Aisenberg 138). Dickinson imagines death as a male. In her case it is a gentleman who wishes her to accompany him on a carriage ride. She acquiesces, as a Victorian woman would have to the men in her life (her father, and, if she had married, her husband). Donne does not specify the gender of death in his poem, but because the speaker addresses it as an equal it is almost certainly male. The speaker personifies Death not as a polite gentleman but as a scoundrel.
Anger, according to Kubler-Ross, is the stage in which terminal patients begin to ask why, specifically: “[w]hy couldn’t it have been him?” (44). The speaker of Donne’s poem has a similar response, deciding that Death is the one who deserves to die. The speaker mocks death by informing him of his powerlessness: “[those] whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow [d]ie not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me” (Donne 890). He continues to mock Death by comparing it to sleep, which is temporary, like he claims Death to be. Finally, he reminds Death that it is subject to “[f]ate, chance, kings, and desperate men” and that it is comrades with unsavory characters such as “poison, war, and sickness” (Donne 890). This is the voice of someone angry with Death – the speaker wants to put Death in his place.
The very form–a sonnet - echoes this need for control. In a typical Petrarchan sonnet, a shift would come between the eighth and ninth lines. Instead, the speaker continues to expand on his initial command, “Death, be not proud” (Donne 890). The argument becomes repetitive- the speaker brings back the subject of sleep twice in lines eleven and thirteen. He seems unsure of himself, and resorts to jabs at Death’s manhood.
There is another component to the speaker’s taunts – he is also putting down Death with sexual metaphors. Line twelve is both a question about Death’s proud swagger as well as a joke about erections: “why swell’st thou then? (Donne 890) The second to last line, “[o]ne short sleep past, we wake eternally” may make it seem like the speaker is at the acceptance stage, open to the idea of death as a means to get to heaven, but the next line –“death shall be no more, Death thou shalt die” (Donne 890) shows that the speaker is still not over his anger. Despite acknowledgement of his own eternal life, the speaker is still stuck on the idea that Death is going to get its retribution.
“Death, thou shalt die” can also be taken as a sex joke (890). “A favorite pun of Donne’s was on the word ‘die,’ which in his time carried the slang meaning ‘to consummate the sexual act.’ Donne makes extensive use of this pun in his great love poem ‘The Canonization.’ In ‘Holy Sonnet 10,’ Donne might similarly be punning on the word ‘die’ in the final celebration of the death of Death” (Holy Sonnet 10 Poem Summary). When Death “dies” he is spent, sexually, unable to continue with his original purpose. Jabbing at Death’s masculinity is another way to remind him he is not in control. The speaker, like the patients in the anger stage of Kubler-Ross’s study, is trying desperately to lash out at somebody– in this case, personified death - in retaliation for the unfairness of their own impending demise (Kubler-Ross 44).
Although there is no direct evidence that she did, Dickinson probably read Donne, including the Holy Sonnets like “Death, be not proud”, because they were popular at the time and Dickinson was a voracious reader (Farr 61). Dickinson’s form, though, is considerably different than Donne’s. She writes in four line stanzas, with only the second and fourth line rhyming. Dickinson’s use of capitalizations and punctuation - particularly dashes -was unusual. She did not force her thoughts into a closed form like a sonnet. Whereas the sonnet form of “Death, be not proud” could be looked at as a means of trying to control Death, the form of “Because I could not stop for Death” is relaxed and painless, much like the attitude of its own speaker.
The speaker of “Because I could not stop for Death” has reached the stage of acceptance. This makes sense, because she speaks retrospectively about her death. What has already happened is impossible to struggle against. Even the first stanza, a description of her dying process, does not suggest resistance. None of the other stages of grief –denial, anger, bargaining, and depression - are present in speaker’s tone. Death is not her enemy, but her lover.
Ellen Greenberger did a study of women with terminal cancer which showed that “death [seems] to have sexual overtones for many women” (Kastenbaum and Aisenberg 141). The speaker is in a thin night gown, practically nude. There is an intimacy between her and Death as they ride in the carriage, alone except for “Immortality”. This capitalization makes Immortality into a personified being as well – he is like the chaperone (needed in the Victorian era) on Dickinson’s date with Death.
Death has picked her up for a date, but is it one she wants to go on? She did not seek Death out, after all. Death had to stop for her (Dickinson 742). The poem does not include a conversation between the speaker and Death, so clues have to be taken from her actions. She is cordial towards her unexpected guest: she puts “away [her] labor and [her] leisure too” (Dickinson 742). She is exposed in her thin nightgown, and does not protest as they continue on their journey “toward Eternity” (Dickinson 742). This speaker, unlike the speaker in “Death, be not proud”, is willing to accept death without a struggle. She goes along willingly for the ride, even as they journey beyond her own grave. They are headed towards eternity, but are in no hurry to get there; Death “drove slowly, he knew no haste” (Dicksinson 742). They’re enjoying each other’s company.
In her study, Greenberger found that sexualizing death either increased or decreased the women’s anxiety about dying (Kastenbaum and Aisenberg 141). In “Because I could not stop for Death”, the speaker is comforted by the presence of Death as a lover. The speaker’s use of the word “we” throughout the poem reminds readers that Death is her companion; she is not making the journey by herself. She is calm, not upset by anything they pass – including childhood: “the School, where Children strove At Recess in the Ring”, the autumn of her life: “the Fields of Gazing Grain”, and finally the sun itself (Dickinson 742). These descriptions are straightforward and detached. Her grave, which would be an emotionally-charged sight for anyone not ready to die, is described stoically: “a [h]ouse that seemed [a] swelling of the ground” (Dickinson 742). This lack of emotion is a part of the acceptance stage – after working through the pain and emotional struggles of the other four stages, dying patients are able to quietly accept their fate (Kubler-Ross, 100).
But is it viable to compare the speakers of these poems to the subjects of Greenberger and Kubler-Ross’ studies? There is the problem of different time periods. Kubler-Ross and Greenberger did their studies in the 1960’s, Dickinson wrote her poem in the mid 1800’s, and Donne wrote his poem in the early 1600’s. But time period differences become less important when considering that despite how much society changes, death remains ubiquitous. Regardless of what society and time period they are from, when faced with death, a person has two options- they either accept it or they do not. Dickinson and Donne had encountered death around them. Donne’s father died when he was young, and early on in his adult life, his brother Henry was put in prison and killed. And a poet who writes about death must dwell on the subject, reaching a level of awareness comparable - if they had not been reminded sufficiently of their own death by society - to the people in Greenberger’s and Kubler-Ross’s studies. Everyone who lives, not just the terminally ill, is also in the process of dying.
The speakers of “Because I could not stop for Death” and “Death, be not proud” sexualize death differently because they are at different stages in Kubler-Ross’s model of the grieving process. Everyone must come to terms with death somehow, and personifying, and even sexualizing death through poetry is an effective way to do that. Not only can poetry help the poet - and the reader - “train for ill and not for good” (650), as A.E. Housman’s speaker suggested, in a sense it can defeat death. A good poem is immortal. Donne and Dickinson are, of course, dead. But their work lives on.
Works Cited
Dickinson, Emily. “Because I could not stop for Death.” Perrine’s Literature Structure, Sound & Sense. Ed. Arp, Thomas, and Greg Johnson. Boston, MA: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2006. 742.
Donne, John. “Death, be not proud.” Perrine’s Literature Structure, Sound & Sense. Ed. Arp, Thomas, and Greg Johnson. Boston, MA: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2006. 890.
Farr, Judith Banzer. “’Compound Manner’: Emily Dickinson and The Metaphysical Poets”. On Dickinson. Ed. Edwin Cady and Louis Budd. London: Duke University Press: 1990. 52-68.
"Holy Sonnet 10 (Poem Summary)." Notes on Poetry. Answers Corporation, 2006. Answers.com 25 Oct 2008. http://www.answers.com/topic/holy-sonnet-10-poem-3
Housman, A.E. “Terrence, this is stupid stuff.” Perrine’s Literature Structure, Sound & Sense. Ed. Arp, Thomas, and Greg Johnson. Boston, MA: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2006. 649-651.
Kastenbaum, Robert, and Ruth Aisenberg. The Psychology of Death. New York: Springer Publishing Company, 1976.
Kubler-Ross, Elisabeth. On Death and Dying. New York: Collier Books, 1969.
Donne and Dickinson grapple with death by personifying it, an approach that writers, artists – and the dying - have used for centuries (Kastenbaum and Aisenberg 141). Donne and Dickinson are seeking “a source of comfort, and intimation that [they] will be welcomed when [they have] passed through the transition of death” (Kastenbaum and Aisenberg 140). The appearance of personified death tends to reflect the society the individual is from. For example, death tends to be personified as whichever gender is more powerful: female in a matriarchal society, male in a patriarchal society (Kastenbaum and Aisenberg 138). Dickinson imagines death as a male. In her case it is a gentleman who wishes her to accompany him on a carriage ride. She acquiesces, as a Victorian woman would have to the men in her life (her father, and, if she had married, her husband). Donne does not specify the gender of death in his poem, but because the speaker addresses it as an equal it is almost certainly male. The speaker personifies Death not as a polite gentleman but as a scoundrel.
Anger, according to Kubler-Ross, is the stage in which terminal patients begin to ask why, specifically: “[w]hy couldn’t it have been him?” (44). The speaker of Donne’s poem has a similar response, deciding that Death is the one who deserves to die. The speaker mocks death by informing him of his powerlessness: “[those] whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow [d]ie not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me” (Donne 890). He continues to mock Death by comparing it to sleep, which is temporary, like he claims Death to be. Finally, he reminds Death that it is subject to “[f]ate, chance, kings, and desperate men” and that it is comrades with unsavory characters such as “poison, war, and sickness” (Donne 890). This is the voice of someone angry with Death – the speaker wants to put Death in his place.
The very form–a sonnet - echoes this need for control. In a typical Petrarchan sonnet, a shift would come between the eighth and ninth lines. Instead, the speaker continues to expand on his initial command, “Death, be not proud” (Donne 890). The argument becomes repetitive- the speaker brings back the subject of sleep twice in lines eleven and thirteen. He seems unsure of himself, and resorts to jabs at Death’s manhood.
There is another component to the speaker’s taunts – he is also putting down Death with sexual metaphors. Line twelve is both a question about Death’s proud swagger as well as a joke about erections: “why swell’st thou then? (Donne 890) The second to last line, “[o]ne short sleep past, we wake eternally” may make it seem like the speaker is at the acceptance stage, open to the idea of death as a means to get to heaven, but the next line –“death shall be no more, Death thou shalt die” (Donne 890) shows that the speaker is still not over his anger. Despite acknowledgement of his own eternal life, the speaker is still stuck on the idea that Death is going to get its retribution.
“Death, thou shalt die” can also be taken as a sex joke (890). “A favorite pun of Donne’s was on the word ‘die,’ which in his time carried the slang meaning ‘to consummate the sexual act.’ Donne makes extensive use of this pun in his great love poem ‘The Canonization.’ In ‘Holy Sonnet 10,’ Donne might similarly be punning on the word ‘die’ in the final celebration of the death of Death” (Holy Sonnet 10 Poem Summary). When Death “dies” he is spent, sexually, unable to continue with his original purpose. Jabbing at Death’s masculinity is another way to remind him he is not in control. The speaker, like the patients in the anger stage of Kubler-Ross’s study, is trying desperately to lash out at somebody– in this case, personified death - in retaliation for the unfairness of their own impending demise (Kubler-Ross 44).
Although there is no direct evidence that she did, Dickinson probably read Donne, including the Holy Sonnets like “Death, be not proud”, because they were popular at the time and Dickinson was a voracious reader (Farr 61). Dickinson’s form, though, is considerably different than Donne’s. She writes in four line stanzas, with only the second and fourth line rhyming. Dickinson’s use of capitalizations and punctuation - particularly dashes -was unusual. She did not force her thoughts into a closed form like a sonnet. Whereas the sonnet form of “Death, be not proud” could be looked at as a means of trying to control Death, the form of “Because I could not stop for Death” is relaxed and painless, much like the attitude of its own speaker.
The speaker of “Because I could not stop for Death” has reached the stage of acceptance. This makes sense, because she speaks retrospectively about her death. What has already happened is impossible to struggle against. Even the first stanza, a description of her dying process, does not suggest resistance. None of the other stages of grief –denial, anger, bargaining, and depression - are present in speaker’s tone. Death is not her enemy, but her lover.
Ellen Greenberger did a study of women with terminal cancer which showed that “death [seems] to have sexual overtones for many women” (Kastenbaum and Aisenberg 141). The speaker is in a thin night gown, practically nude. There is an intimacy between her and Death as they ride in the carriage, alone except for “Immortality”. This capitalization makes Immortality into a personified being as well – he is like the chaperone (needed in the Victorian era) on Dickinson’s date with Death.
Death has picked her up for a date, but is it one she wants to go on? She did not seek Death out, after all. Death had to stop for her (Dickinson 742). The poem does not include a conversation between the speaker and Death, so clues have to be taken from her actions. She is cordial towards her unexpected guest: she puts “away [her] labor and [her] leisure too” (Dickinson 742). She is exposed in her thin nightgown, and does not protest as they continue on their journey “toward Eternity” (Dickinson 742). This speaker, unlike the speaker in “Death, be not proud”, is willing to accept death without a struggle. She goes along willingly for the ride, even as they journey beyond her own grave. They are headed towards eternity, but are in no hurry to get there; Death “drove slowly, he knew no haste” (Dicksinson 742). They’re enjoying each other’s company.
In her study, Greenberger found that sexualizing death either increased or decreased the women’s anxiety about dying (Kastenbaum and Aisenberg 141). In “Because I could not stop for Death”, the speaker is comforted by the presence of Death as a lover. The speaker’s use of the word “we” throughout the poem reminds readers that Death is her companion; she is not making the journey by herself. She is calm, not upset by anything they pass – including childhood: “the School, where Children strove At Recess in the Ring”, the autumn of her life: “the Fields of Gazing Grain”, and finally the sun itself (Dickinson 742). These descriptions are straightforward and detached. Her grave, which would be an emotionally-charged sight for anyone not ready to die, is described stoically: “a [h]ouse that seemed [a] swelling of the ground” (Dickinson 742). This lack of emotion is a part of the acceptance stage – after working through the pain and emotional struggles of the other four stages, dying patients are able to quietly accept their fate (Kubler-Ross, 100).
But is it viable to compare the speakers of these poems to the subjects of Greenberger and Kubler-Ross’ studies? There is the problem of different time periods. Kubler-Ross and Greenberger did their studies in the 1960’s, Dickinson wrote her poem in the mid 1800’s, and Donne wrote his poem in the early 1600’s. But time period differences become less important when considering that despite how much society changes, death remains ubiquitous. Regardless of what society and time period they are from, when faced with death, a person has two options- they either accept it or they do not. Dickinson and Donne had encountered death around them. Donne’s father died when he was young, and early on in his adult life, his brother Henry was put in prison and killed. And a poet who writes about death must dwell on the subject, reaching a level of awareness comparable - if they had not been reminded sufficiently of their own death by society - to the people in Greenberger’s and Kubler-Ross’s studies. Everyone who lives, not just the terminally ill, is also in the process of dying.
The speakers of “Because I could not stop for Death” and “Death, be not proud” sexualize death differently because they are at different stages in Kubler-Ross’s model of the grieving process. Everyone must come to terms with death somehow, and personifying, and even sexualizing death through poetry is an effective way to do that. Not only can poetry help the poet - and the reader - “train for ill and not for good” (650), as A.E. Housman’s speaker suggested, in a sense it can defeat death. A good poem is immortal. Donne and Dickinson are, of course, dead. But their work lives on.
Works Cited
Dickinson, Emily. “Because I could not stop for Death.” Perrine’s Literature Structure, Sound & Sense. Ed. Arp, Thomas, and Greg Johnson. Boston, MA: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2006. 742.
Donne, John. “Death, be not proud.” Perrine’s Literature Structure, Sound & Sense. Ed. Arp, Thomas, and Greg Johnson. Boston, MA: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2006. 890.
Farr, Judith Banzer. “’Compound Manner’: Emily Dickinson and The Metaphysical Poets”. On Dickinson. Ed. Edwin Cady and Louis Budd. London: Duke University Press: 1990. 52-68.
"Holy Sonnet 10 (Poem Summary)." Notes on Poetry. Answers Corporation, 2006. Answers.com 25 Oct 2008. http://www.answers.com/topic/holy-sonnet-10-poem-3
Housman, A.E. “Terrence, this is stupid stuff.” Perrine’s Literature Structure, Sound & Sense. Ed. Arp, Thomas, and Greg Johnson. Boston, MA: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2006. 649-651.
Kastenbaum, Robert, and Ruth Aisenberg. The Psychology of Death. New York: Springer Publishing Company, 1976.
Kubler-Ross, Elisabeth. On Death and Dying. New York: Collier Books, 1969.
Beyond The Cowl And Scythe: Looking at Death in “Because I Could Not Stop For Death” and “Death, Be Not Proud” by Wes Solether
Death is usually seen as the cosmic harbinger of bad news; a stereotypical villain that ends the happiness of life. Contrary to that popular characterization, in Emily Dickinson’s “I Could Not Stop for Death,” Death is a gentlemanly character. The speaker peacefully resigns to Death. On the other hand, in “Death Be Not Proud,” John Donne’s speaker is hostile toward Death. His speaker’s view of Death contradicts Donne’s religion. Christianity sees Death as a intrument of God. Death is a member of the four horsemen that God unleashes in Revelations. , Donne’s speaker is not convincing in his argument of Death as a villain because he does not view Death as God’s work, or as the means to a Christian afterlife. Dickinson’s speaker is much more convincing, considering her Bohemian outlook on Death. A Bohemian philosophy is the idea of breaking social norms and having unorthodox beliefs. Dickinson’s speaker’s Bohemian ideals can be seen through an explication of “Because I Could Not Stop For Death.”
Death’s meaning in Dickinson’s poem has been debated by scholars and widely varies. For instance, some scholars have considered Death as a gentle but unavoidable lover. Some have thought of Death as a funeral director (Abbott 141) or even a representation of God (Hoepfner 96). Death can also be viewed as the peaceful means to an eternity of rest that the speaker seeks.
In “Because I Could Not Stop For Death”, Dickinson’s speaker views Death as an intimate friend. She refers to Death as “kindly” (Dickinson 2) stopping for her alongside life’s road in a carriage. Already, her acceptance of her fate and willingness to go with Death on friendly terms establishes sympathy with Death. She goes on to say that Death “knew no haste” (5). It is a leisurely ride toward the speaker’s death, which might suggest that she has known Death all along. The belief that as soon as humans are born that they begin to die, resonates in this line. Death is always with the speaker, and using a Bohemian lens, Death provides the speaker comfort on their gentle ride.
In the third stanza, the speaker passes children playing, “in the Ring” (10), which would indicate the children were playing “Ring Around the Rosy.” The significance of the children’s rhyme is that it revolves around death. It is originally about the bubonic plague. It makes sense that Dickinson would include the plague reference because it fits with her theme of life’s stages in the stanza. For instance, the grain field gives the impression that harvest season is near and the grain will soon be cut down by Death’s scythe. Later in the stanza, the setting sun is taken by the night. Dickinson could be suggesting that, from children’s rhymes to setting suns, Death surrounds everyone in all stages of life.
Eternity in Dickinson’s poem goes against the Christian view of an afterlife eternity. Instead, she seems to suggest that Death is the only eternity. Throughout the poem, the speaker is willing to treat Death as a friend rather than a foe. She presents a very unorthodox, relaxed view towards Death.
Her time is running out in the sixth stanza. The sun on her life is setting as she and Death “paused before a House that seemed/ A swelling of the ground” (17-18). This has been widely discussed in the literary world as the speaker’s grave (Frank 82), and it isn’t hard to imagine. She comments on the irony of her life always being on the path of her death when saying, “Since then- ‘Tis Centuries- and yet/ Feels shorter than the Day/ I first surmised the Horses’ Heads/ Were towards Eternity-“ (Dickinson 21-24). She is describing the longevity of life; yet at the end of life, it feels quite short. She has always been pointed towards death, yet it is only on the edge of death that she finally realizes it. In line 4, Immortality is along for the ride with Death too. Immortality aids the thought that Death is eternal. The speaker is saying that there are no pearly gates, but instead, a peaceful eternity in a grave. It goes against the view of Death as a villain and provides an acceptance of Death as necessary for eternal peace. Plainly, Death is the end to life and in the speaker’s acknowledgment, she is provided with peace of mind.
There is a stark difference between Dickinson’s poem and John Donne’s view in “Death Be Not Proud.” Donne, being a preacher, strongly believed in the Christian view of eternal life. As such, Donne’s speaker tries to overcome Death to get eternal life. Yet, Death is the means to the Christian afterlife. Death is an essential means to the end. Donne’s speaker curses Death, instead of realizing that Death is indispensable. The speaker is fully convinced that Death is a worthless villain, yet it is not a convincing argument considering the Christian ideals present in the poem.
In the first two lines of “Death Be Not Proud”, Donne’s speaker challenges Death’s pride, might, and influence. These two lines establish the aggressive tone. He goes on to assert that he is still living and Death cannot yet claim him (Donne 4). By struggling against Death, the speaker is reinforcing Death as the enemy and that he will not stop fighting against Death until the bitter end.
In lines five and six, the speaker categorizes rest and sleep as forms of death. By saying that rest and sleep provide “much pleasure”, the speaker creates a powerful contradiction (5). If rest and sleep are pleasurable and “pictures” of Death, Death too must be pleasurable (6). So, the speaker makes the concession that Death can be a relief, yet he continues to desperately try to diminish Death’s effectiveness. Donne might have put these lines in to confirm the uncertainty of death. The speaker’s uncertainty in line five diminishes his claim that Death is an ineffective villain.
By easing his stance on Death for just these lines, the speaker loses credibility in the rest of the poem. It leaves an unconvinced audience, confusing the overall message of the poem. This is especially important when trying to overcome Death by confining it into a sonnet. The sonnet itself exercises a control over what a poet can write. In some ways, Donne is putting Death into a prison of words. Prison can be viewed as a way to put people away that society does not want to deal with. Donne’s speaker is doing the same thing; he is putting Death in a sonnet because he does not want to deal with Death’s effects and control over him. Contrary to the speaker’s intentions, the two lines of uncertainty seem to put Death out of Donne’s control. Donne’s speaker gives the impression that he is overcoming the fear of Death by confining it to paper, yet he loses his convincing attitude in these two lines.
Donne quickly tries to regain his control on the sonnet by further implicating Death as a scoundrel and not a vital part to the circle of life. Donne’s dastardly Death takes humanity’s “best men” and is a “slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men” (7 9). Donne’s speaker is trying to deplete Death’s power by attaching the image of a slave to Death. By using the slave imagery, Death seems powerless without the help of the other things mentioned like fate. The problem of his argument is that Death takes the best men and it is assumed they go to Heaven, at least with Donne’s Christian beliefs. So, Death should be considered an instrument of God gathering the worthy rather than a villain working against God. If Donne’s speaker had conceded that point, his argument could still work. He could claim the powerlessness of Death to God because Death could be considered a slave to God, instead of a slave to fate or chance.
Donne continues to relate Death with wicked imagery. Death is coupled with “poison, war, and sickness” (10), which is true, yet lacks the foresight of considering Death as relief or mercy. The speaker persists on weakening the thought of Death by saying that sleep is “well/ And better than thy stroke” (11-12). Associating Death as sleep plays into the speaker’s belief that Death is a temporary state. The speaker equates Death as a “short sleep” before humans “wake eternally” (13). He believes Death is an inconvenient condition on the way to the afterlife, as he says, “death, thou shalt die” (14). It reaffirms the speaker’s stubborn position and inability to accept Death. Going further, threats are usually issued when someone is afraid of what someone else will do. There seems to be, along with a clear uncertainty, a real fear of Death in Donne’s poem. Donne’s speaker overcompensates his disdain of Death to the point that the reader senses some desperation in the voice of the poem.
Overall, Death does not get a fair chance in Donne’s poem. He is immediately cast as a villain and undesirable character. In the speaker’s philosophy, death is a temporary state that ends in eternal life. In Dickinson’s poem, Death is a companion in life because he is always there. Dickinson’s Death is a final state for her speaker. Her eternity is the peace in death, not the afterlife that Donne is hoping for. She is much more secure with Death as opposed to Donne’s speaker. Dickinson was taught Christian beliefs, just as Donne was (Hoepfner 96); yet Dickinson believes Death is inexorably connected with the afterlife. Her Bohemian outlook on Death provides a much more compelling argument.
There is comfort in both ways of thinking of Death. Whether someone takes Donne’s view or Dickinson’s view, everyone will experience death at some point in his or her lives. Yet, until someone rides with Death himself on that winding road of life, Death will remain an abstract concept that poets can only touch on. Death comes into people’s lives differently, and may not always resemble the cowled baddie that Donne’s speaker stereotyped.
Works Cited
Abbott, Collamer M. "Dickinson's Because I Could Not Stop For Death." Explicator spring (1999): 212-13. MLA Bibliography. EBSCO. Thomas Tredway Library, Rock Island.
Dickinson, Emily. “Because I could not stop for Death.” Perrine’s Literature Structure, Sound & Sense. Ed. Arp, Thomas, and Greg Johnson. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2009. 742.
Donne, John. “Death, be not proud.” Perrine’s Literature Structure, Sound & Sense. Ed. Arp, Thomas, and Greg Johnson. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2009. 890.
Frank, Bernhard. "Dickinson's Because I Could Not Stop For Death-." Explicator winter (2000): 82-83. MLA Bibliography. EBSCO. Thomas Tredway Library, Rock Island.
Hoepfner, Theodore C. "Because I Could Not Stop For Death." American Literature (1957): 96. MLA Bibliography. EBSCO. Thomas Tredway Library, Rock Island.
Death’s meaning in Dickinson’s poem has been debated by scholars and widely varies. For instance, some scholars have considered Death as a gentle but unavoidable lover. Some have thought of Death as a funeral director (Abbott 141) or even a representation of God (Hoepfner 96). Death can also be viewed as the peaceful means to an eternity of rest that the speaker seeks.
In “Because I Could Not Stop For Death”, Dickinson’s speaker views Death as an intimate friend. She refers to Death as “kindly” (Dickinson 2) stopping for her alongside life’s road in a carriage. Already, her acceptance of her fate and willingness to go with Death on friendly terms establishes sympathy with Death. She goes on to say that Death “knew no haste” (5). It is a leisurely ride toward the speaker’s death, which might suggest that she has known Death all along. The belief that as soon as humans are born that they begin to die, resonates in this line. Death is always with the speaker, and using a Bohemian lens, Death provides the speaker comfort on their gentle ride.
In the third stanza, the speaker passes children playing, “in the Ring” (10), which would indicate the children were playing “Ring Around the Rosy.” The significance of the children’s rhyme is that it revolves around death. It is originally about the bubonic plague. It makes sense that Dickinson would include the plague reference because it fits with her theme of life’s stages in the stanza. For instance, the grain field gives the impression that harvest season is near and the grain will soon be cut down by Death’s scythe. Later in the stanza, the setting sun is taken by the night. Dickinson could be suggesting that, from children’s rhymes to setting suns, Death surrounds everyone in all stages of life.
Eternity in Dickinson’s poem goes against the Christian view of an afterlife eternity. Instead, she seems to suggest that Death is the only eternity. Throughout the poem, the speaker is willing to treat Death as a friend rather than a foe. She presents a very unorthodox, relaxed view towards Death.
Her time is running out in the sixth stanza. The sun on her life is setting as she and Death “paused before a House that seemed/ A swelling of the ground” (17-18). This has been widely discussed in the literary world as the speaker’s grave (Frank 82), and it isn’t hard to imagine. She comments on the irony of her life always being on the path of her death when saying, “Since then- ‘Tis Centuries- and yet/ Feels shorter than the Day/ I first surmised the Horses’ Heads/ Were towards Eternity-“ (Dickinson 21-24). She is describing the longevity of life; yet at the end of life, it feels quite short. She has always been pointed towards death, yet it is only on the edge of death that she finally realizes it. In line 4, Immortality is along for the ride with Death too. Immortality aids the thought that Death is eternal. The speaker is saying that there are no pearly gates, but instead, a peaceful eternity in a grave. It goes against the view of Death as a villain and provides an acceptance of Death as necessary for eternal peace. Plainly, Death is the end to life and in the speaker’s acknowledgment, she is provided with peace of mind.
There is a stark difference between Dickinson’s poem and John Donne’s view in “Death Be Not Proud.” Donne, being a preacher, strongly believed in the Christian view of eternal life. As such, Donne’s speaker tries to overcome Death to get eternal life. Yet, Death is the means to the Christian afterlife. Death is an essential means to the end. Donne’s speaker curses Death, instead of realizing that Death is indispensable. The speaker is fully convinced that Death is a worthless villain, yet it is not a convincing argument considering the Christian ideals present in the poem.
In the first two lines of “Death Be Not Proud”, Donne’s speaker challenges Death’s pride, might, and influence. These two lines establish the aggressive tone. He goes on to assert that he is still living and Death cannot yet claim him (Donne 4). By struggling against Death, the speaker is reinforcing Death as the enemy and that he will not stop fighting against Death until the bitter end.
In lines five and six, the speaker categorizes rest and sleep as forms of death. By saying that rest and sleep provide “much pleasure”, the speaker creates a powerful contradiction (5). If rest and sleep are pleasurable and “pictures” of Death, Death too must be pleasurable (6). So, the speaker makes the concession that Death can be a relief, yet he continues to desperately try to diminish Death’s effectiveness. Donne might have put these lines in to confirm the uncertainty of death. The speaker’s uncertainty in line five diminishes his claim that Death is an ineffective villain.
By easing his stance on Death for just these lines, the speaker loses credibility in the rest of the poem. It leaves an unconvinced audience, confusing the overall message of the poem. This is especially important when trying to overcome Death by confining it into a sonnet. The sonnet itself exercises a control over what a poet can write. In some ways, Donne is putting Death into a prison of words. Prison can be viewed as a way to put people away that society does not want to deal with. Donne’s speaker is doing the same thing; he is putting Death in a sonnet because he does not want to deal with Death’s effects and control over him. Contrary to the speaker’s intentions, the two lines of uncertainty seem to put Death out of Donne’s control. Donne’s speaker gives the impression that he is overcoming the fear of Death by confining it to paper, yet he loses his convincing attitude in these two lines.
Donne quickly tries to regain his control on the sonnet by further implicating Death as a scoundrel and not a vital part to the circle of life. Donne’s dastardly Death takes humanity’s “best men” and is a “slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men” (7 9). Donne’s speaker is trying to deplete Death’s power by attaching the image of a slave to Death. By using the slave imagery, Death seems powerless without the help of the other things mentioned like fate. The problem of his argument is that Death takes the best men and it is assumed they go to Heaven, at least with Donne’s Christian beliefs. So, Death should be considered an instrument of God gathering the worthy rather than a villain working against God. If Donne’s speaker had conceded that point, his argument could still work. He could claim the powerlessness of Death to God because Death could be considered a slave to God, instead of a slave to fate or chance.
Donne continues to relate Death with wicked imagery. Death is coupled with “poison, war, and sickness” (10), which is true, yet lacks the foresight of considering Death as relief or mercy. The speaker persists on weakening the thought of Death by saying that sleep is “well/ And better than thy stroke” (11-12). Associating Death as sleep plays into the speaker’s belief that Death is a temporary state. The speaker equates Death as a “short sleep” before humans “wake eternally” (13). He believes Death is an inconvenient condition on the way to the afterlife, as he says, “death, thou shalt die” (14). It reaffirms the speaker’s stubborn position and inability to accept Death. Going further, threats are usually issued when someone is afraid of what someone else will do. There seems to be, along with a clear uncertainty, a real fear of Death in Donne’s poem. Donne’s speaker overcompensates his disdain of Death to the point that the reader senses some desperation in the voice of the poem.
Overall, Death does not get a fair chance in Donne’s poem. He is immediately cast as a villain and undesirable character. In the speaker’s philosophy, death is a temporary state that ends in eternal life. In Dickinson’s poem, Death is a companion in life because he is always there. Dickinson’s Death is a final state for her speaker. Her eternity is the peace in death, not the afterlife that Donne is hoping for. She is much more secure with Death as opposed to Donne’s speaker. Dickinson was taught Christian beliefs, just as Donne was (Hoepfner 96); yet Dickinson believes Death is inexorably connected with the afterlife. Her Bohemian outlook on Death provides a much more compelling argument.
There is comfort in both ways of thinking of Death. Whether someone takes Donne’s view or Dickinson’s view, everyone will experience death at some point in his or her lives. Yet, until someone rides with Death himself on that winding road of life, Death will remain an abstract concept that poets can only touch on. Death comes into people’s lives differently, and may not always resemble the cowled baddie that Donne’s speaker stereotyped.
Works Cited
Abbott, Collamer M. "Dickinson's Because I Could Not Stop For Death." Explicator spring (1999): 212-13. MLA Bibliography. EBSCO. Thomas Tredway Library, Rock Island.
Dickinson, Emily. “Because I could not stop for Death.” Perrine’s Literature Structure, Sound & Sense. Ed. Arp, Thomas, and Greg Johnson. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2009. 742.
Donne, John. “Death, be not proud.” Perrine’s Literature Structure, Sound & Sense. Ed. Arp, Thomas, and Greg Johnson. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2009. 890.
Frank, Bernhard. "Dickinson's Because I Could Not Stop For Death-." Explicator winter (2000): 82-83. MLA Bibliography. EBSCO. Thomas Tredway Library, Rock Island.
Hoepfner, Theodore C. "Because I Could Not Stop For Death." American Literature (1957): 96. MLA Bibliography. EBSCO. Thomas Tredway Library, Rock Island.
The Dismal Tide by Ben Borhart
“Summary- Every poem is a misinterpretation of a parent poem. A poem is not an overcoming of anxiety, but is that anxiety.” (Bloom 94) Thus Harold Bloom writes in the interchapter entitled “A Manifesto” in his compelling work, The Anxiety of Influence. Bloom’s main focus in the book is the idea of poetic influence, or how earlier poets by necessity influence future poets with their work. A simplification of Bloom’s thesis would be that since we are nearing a full millennium of English verse all truly original topics have been covered; the only way a modern poet can create new material is by, consciously or not, misreading a precursor. To put it a different way, the poet convinces herself no one has previously covered her desired topic.
In the case of comparing “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” by Walt Whitman to Alan Ginsberg’s “A Supermarket in California”, this “misprision” (as Bloom terms the process) is especially clear. Given the manifold connections between the two poems, Harold Bloom’s theory of influential anxiety works to tie these poems together in a father-son context.
Harold Bloom’s ideas are hard for many to accept, including this author. The assertion of a creative limit is staggeringly hard to swallow, even just considering the giant leaps and bounds that technology has accomplished in the last several decades. Therefore, I cannot say I agree wholly with Bloom’s ideas, but his idea of poems begetting other poems works in this case.
“Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” is a great example of the ideas and tropes that Whitman used in most of his poetry. He directly addresses forces of nature (“Flood-tide below me! I see you face to face!” (Lauter 2995)), uses repetition for dramatic effect (“It avails not, time nor place-distance avails not” (2995)), and talks to the reader as if s/he were present (“What is it then between us?/ What is the count of the scores or hundreds of years between us?” (2995)).
The themes of the poem are also uniquely Whitman’s; in describing the scene on the ferry, Whitman underscores the universality of human experiences: “I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence, / Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt, / Just as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of a crowd” (2995). Whitman enumerates many more such “shared” experiences, glorying in both nature and human industry. Also, Whitman brings the idea of posterity into the work in an interesting way; he claims many times in the poem to have the reader specifically in mind as he is writing: “I consider’d long and seriously of you before you were born” (2998).
Strangely enough, at the end of “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” Whitman addresses his own precursors in a way that Harold Bloom might consider valid. When discussing the “dumb, beautiful ministers” Whitman says that “We use you, and do not cast you aside-we plant you permanently within us,” (2999). This coincides remarkably well with Harold Bloom’s sixth step in poetic influence, which he dubs Apophrades, a term that comes from the Athenian era meaning certain days when the restless dead come back to their homes (Bloom 15). Bloom styles this last stage of influence as a period when the poet no longer fights against precursors but allows herself to “channel” them into their own poetry.
In contrast to Whitman’s idyllic meditation upon humanity and eternity, we have Ginsberg’s “A Supermarket in California”. A much shorter piece (thirty lines to Whitman’s 132), the narration shares the same time-skipping, over-reaching traits that Whitman uses. The tense of the piece shifts often, from present to past to future, with a parenthetical return to the “actual” present, and back to past tense. The action is also limited to one location, in this case a visit to a supermarket compared to Whitman’s journey on a ferry. The last paragraph breaks off the action and focuses rather on the hypothetical relationship between the narrator and Walt Whitman.
Ginsberg turns Whitman’s conceit back onto the great poet by addressing Whitman personally. (Ginsberg 966). Ginsberg also uses a bit of Whitman’s exclamatory diction: “What peaches and penumbras? Whole families shopping at night!” (966). The use of the exclamation points is ironic; there is nothing to exclaim about in a supermarket at night.
Ginsberg describes Whitman as a “[c]hildless, lonely old grubber” (966). By itself, this seems like a simple expansion on popular images of Whitman in his elder years. Harold Bloom, however, gives us a different outlook on this characterization in his chapter on Daemonization, or the Counter-Sublime: “Turning against the precursor’s Sublime, the newly strong poet undergoes Daemonization, a Counter-Sublime whose function suggests the precursor’s weakness. When the [strong poet] is daemonized, his precursor necessarily is humanized…” (Bloom 100). With this view we can see that Ginsberg has respect for Whitman, but in “A Supermarket” the narrartor implicitly has the greater control over the scene, since he alone commands the power to describe the actions and visuals of the setting.
At the end of his poem, Ginsberg does not give Whitman the same high compliment that Whitman gave to his precursors. While bestowing the honoreous titles of “father” and “courage-teacher”, he turns the idea of “ferry” back on itself, giving the reader a bleak outlook on Whitman’s spiritual state: “[W]hat America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?” (Ginsberg 967). The reference to “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” is readily apparent, but instead of Whitman’s glorious transcendence the reader is confronted with the idea of the ferry being Charon’s boat across Lethe, which suggests the Grecian afterlife of Hades, a dismal, hopeless place where the dead reside. Lethe was also known to have the power of amnesia, where one who drinks of its waters forgets his past life entirely. Ginsberg therefore does not seem to reach the level of Apophrades or at least denies that he does. For him, Whitman is dead, as well as the “America of love”(967) that Ginsberg says Whitman espouses in his poetry.
From a mid-19th Century ferry on the East Coast to a soulless hock-shop in the West; from exuberant praise of all man’s works to a eulogy for a time and innocence that is lost and irrecoverable; from one creative man’s vision to another’s a hundred years later, we see that, while Harold Bloom’s ideas are interesting and applicable, they cannot quite bridge the creative gulf. Ginsberg pays homage to Whitman the poet and “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry”, but this praise by necessity lessens Whitman’s hold over Ginsberg. In many ways, “A Supermarket in California” can be read as a note of farewell, to both an inspiration and a father.
Works Cited
Bloom, Harold. The Anxiety of Influence. New York: Oxford UP, 1973.
Ginsberg, Allen. “A Supermarket in California”.
Perrine’s Literature: Sturcture, Sound, and Sense, 10th ed. Ed. Thomas R. Arp &
Greg Johnson. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2009. 966-967.
Whitman, Walt. “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry”.
The Heath Anthology of American Literature. Ed. Paul Lauter. New York:
Houghton Mifflin, 2006. 2995-2999.
In the case of comparing “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” by Walt Whitman to Alan Ginsberg’s “A Supermarket in California”, this “misprision” (as Bloom terms the process) is especially clear. Given the manifold connections between the two poems, Harold Bloom’s theory of influential anxiety works to tie these poems together in a father-son context.
Harold Bloom’s ideas are hard for many to accept, including this author. The assertion of a creative limit is staggeringly hard to swallow, even just considering the giant leaps and bounds that technology has accomplished in the last several decades. Therefore, I cannot say I agree wholly with Bloom’s ideas, but his idea of poems begetting other poems works in this case.
“Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” is a great example of the ideas and tropes that Whitman used in most of his poetry. He directly addresses forces of nature (“Flood-tide below me! I see you face to face!” (Lauter 2995)), uses repetition for dramatic effect (“It avails not, time nor place-distance avails not” (2995)), and talks to the reader as if s/he were present (“What is it then between us?/ What is the count of the scores or hundreds of years between us?” (2995)).
The themes of the poem are also uniquely Whitman’s; in describing the scene on the ferry, Whitman underscores the universality of human experiences: “I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence, / Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt, / Just as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of a crowd” (2995). Whitman enumerates many more such “shared” experiences, glorying in both nature and human industry. Also, Whitman brings the idea of posterity into the work in an interesting way; he claims many times in the poem to have the reader specifically in mind as he is writing: “I consider’d long and seriously of you before you were born” (2998).
Strangely enough, at the end of “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” Whitman addresses his own precursors in a way that Harold Bloom might consider valid. When discussing the “dumb, beautiful ministers” Whitman says that “We use you, and do not cast you aside-we plant you permanently within us,” (2999). This coincides remarkably well with Harold Bloom’s sixth step in poetic influence, which he dubs Apophrades, a term that comes from the Athenian era meaning certain days when the restless dead come back to their homes (Bloom 15). Bloom styles this last stage of influence as a period when the poet no longer fights against precursors but allows herself to “channel” them into their own poetry.
In contrast to Whitman’s idyllic meditation upon humanity and eternity, we have Ginsberg’s “A Supermarket in California”. A much shorter piece (thirty lines to Whitman’s 132), the narration shares the same time-skipping, over-reaching traits that Whitman uses. The tense of the piece shifts often, from present to past to future, with a parenthetical return to the “actual” present, and back to past tense. The action is also limited to one location, in this case a visit to a supermarket compared to Whitman’s journey on a ferry. The last paragraph breaks off the action and focuses rather on the hypothetical relationship between the narrator and Walt Whitman.
Ginsberg turns Whitman’s conceit back onto the great poet by addressing Whitman personally. (Ginsberg 966). Ginsberg also uses a bit of Whitman’s exclamatory diction: “What peaches and penumbras? Whole families shopping at night!” (966). The use of the exclamation points is ironic; there is nothing to exclaim about in a supermarket at night.
Ginsberg describes Whitman as a “[c]hildless, lonely old grubber” (966). By itself, this seems like a simple expansion on popular images of Whitman in his elder years. Harold Bloom, however, gives us a different outlook on this characterization in his chapter on Daemonization, or the Counter-Sublime: “Turning against the precursor’s Sublime, the newly strong poet undergoes Daemonization, a Counter-Sublime whose function suggests the precursor’s weakness. When the [strong poet] is daemonized, his precursor necessarily is humanized…” (Bloom 100). With this view we can see that Ginsberg has respect for Whitman, but in “A Supermarket” the narrartor implicitly has the greater control over the scene, since he alone commands the power to describe the actions and visuals of the setting.
At the end of his poem, Ginsberg does not give Whitman the same high compliment that Whitman gave to his precursors. While bestowing the honoreous titles of “father” and “courage-teacher”, he turns the idea of “ferry” back on itself, giving the reader a bleak outlook on Whitman’s spiritual state: “[W]hat America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?” (Ginsberg 967). The reference to “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” is readily apparent, but instead of Whitman’s glorious transcendence the reader is confronted with the idea of the ferry being Charon’s boat across Lethe, which suggests the Grecian afterlife of Hades, a dismal, hopeless place where the dead reside. Lethe was also known to have the power of amnesia, where one who drinks of its waters forgets his past life entirely. Ginsberg therefore does not seem to reach the level of Apophrades or at least denies that he does. For him, Whitman is dead, as well as the “America of love”(967) that Ginsberg says Whitman espouses in his poetry.
From a mid-19th Century ferry on the East Coast to a soulless hock-shop in the West; from exuberant praise of all man’s works to a eulogy for a time and innocence that is lost and irrecoverable; from one creative man’s vision to another’s a hundred years later, we see that, while Harold Bloom’s ideas are interesting and applicable, they cannot quite bridge the creative gulf. Ginsberg pays homage to Whitman the poet and “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry”, but this praise by necessity lessens Whitman’s hold over Ginsberg. In many ways, “A Supermarket in California” can be read as a note of farewell, to both an inspiration and a father.
Works Cited
Bloom, Harold. The Anxiety of Influence. New York: Oxford UP, 1973.
Ginsberg, Allen. “A Supermarket in California”.
Perrine’s Literature: Sturcture, Sound, and Sense, 10th ed. Ed. Thomas R. Arp &
Greg Johnson. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2009. 966-967.
Whitman, Walt. “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry”.
The Heath Anthology of American Literature. Ed. Paul Lauter. New York:
Houghton Mifflin, 2006. 2995-2999.
The Crux of Identity: The Poet and the Word by Karin Bergquist
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
(John 1.1)
Since the birth of the written word, poets have struggled to express themselves adequately through language, groping blindly to prescribe words to that which they see, and more difficultly, to the abstract: to that which they feel and experience. The Greek word “Logos,” literally meaning “word,” is the root word of “logic,” or the basis of rational thought. In ancient Greece, the orator was the most revered in his society, for he who chose his words meticulously, passionately, and accurately was a prophetic man of reason (Johnson 175). The poet as a man of the word, and more specifically as the creator and manipulator of the word, assumes a godlike role when he assigns specific words to an abstraction or a physical object. By fixing an experience into words, one inevitably binds that experience exclusively to its descriptors. Thus, the tragedy of the poetic condition is born: does one dare to potentially bastardize the experience by confining it to words, or acknowledge that risk and immortalize the experience despite it? Walt Whitman and Allen Ginsberg both play curious roles in this unfortunate circumstance. In “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” Whitman indirectly accepts this tragedy, yet almost effortlessly manages to undo it; in “A Supermarket in California” Ginsberg reflects back to Whitman in his attempt to come to terms with the inevitable cross the poet must bear in consciously committing himself to language.
When discussing these poems and their parallels, it is vital to first understand the consequences of choosing to devote oneself to crafting poetry. Because the poet constantly assesses the world around him by scrutinizing and filtering every detail through an artistic and analytical lens, he inadvertently detaches himself from his world. His commitment to the word, nay, obsession with the word yields a peculiar and unavoidable sense of alienation from his peers, despite his irrefutable dependence on his environment for inspiration.
Whitman solidifies this concept through his word choice in “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.” “Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes, how curious you are to / me!” he exclaims, observing the unremarkable bodies mulling around him. “Curious” here implies an irreconcilable strangeness and division between the speaker and his subjects, and by focusing on the fissure, the speaker widens it. Later in the poem, Whitman “…maintains that he, as representative of nineteenth-century man, is ‘one’ with the men of the past and the men who will live [thereafter]” (Gargano 263), yet never associates himself with a contemporary or equal from his time. This further indicates his detachment from the people of his own generation and highlights his acknowledgement of the solitary poetic figures of the past and the future generations.
The speaker’s sense of alienation in “A Supermarket in California” is more accessible, as the entire poem emphasizes the excruciating burden of loneliness. From the offset, the speaker refers to himself as “self-conscious” and fatigued walking alone down alleyways. He begins “shopping for images” in, of all places, a supermarket. The common individual shops for items which provide physical satiation; here, the poet wanders the aisles longing for mental subsistence: an alleviation from the troubling condition that stems from his own lack of inspiration. The poet imagines himself in the company of Walt Whitman, the “childless, lonely old grubber,” and even though they walk together, they still are separate in their “solitary fancy.” This incidental concession on the part of the speaker addresses a certain isolation: even in the imaginative company of another man – another poet – an ineffable barricade still exists. However, the barrier between the speaker and Whitman differs enormously from that which divides the poet from his surroundings.
For the poet, there is no greater adversary than the limitations and consequences of time. Whether he states it explicitly in his work or not, each word, each line, each poem becomes a meditation on inevitability and mortality. A number of literary critiques of “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” focus primarily on the immediate, aesthetic aspects of the poem. The imagery in the poem is undeniably significant, such as the fluid, circular movement of the birds, the “pouring-in of the flood-tide, the falling-back to / the sea of the ebb-tide,” and the descriptions of the city from a ferry suspended on the water. The extensive use of imagery emphasizes the perpetuation of the physical world beyond the transience of the lives of men. The tide continues to ebb and flow with no regard to the men who look upon it: every life ends and the natural world remains practically unaffected. However, the overwhelmingly aesthetic nature of the poem merely highlights the prominent purpose of the poem. Whitman
warns us that an aesthetic approach alone cannot really touch the essential body of his work. [His] refusal to be judged according to established literary criteria is accompanied by the claim that his [writing] transcends literature…[and] bridges the gap between words and things, aesthetics and ethics, life and fiction (Hagenbuchle 452).
The importance of aesthetics in Whitman’s poem in no way should be called into question, though his imagery merely acts as a vehicle for his greatest and most astounding victory: his transcendence from the physical world and ultimately, his skillful and clever evasion of death.
The poet contends in the fifth section of the poem, “I too had received identity by my body, / That I was I knew was of my body, and what I should be I knew I should be of / my body”. He admits that the realization of the self must first stem from the physical world, and later confesses his all-too-human fixation with the physical world in the sixth section of the poem. He
Lived the same life with the rest, the same old laughing, gnawing, sleeping,
Played the part that still looks back on the actor or actress,
The same old role that is what we make it, as great as we like,
Or as small as we like, or both great and small.
After realizing and coming to terms with the physical nature of the self, the poet then performs his greatest feat. By consistently referring to himself in past tense he sheds his physical identity and replaces it with a more transcendental, spiritual one. He anticipates his future readers, and speaks as if he has already passed away, thereby preemptively accepting death and discarding it simultaneously. As the master and molder of language, he acknowledges the grave consequences of his choice to encapsulate his ideas, yet through his manipulation of words he manages to undergo a metamorphosis. He begins as a man, becomes a man of the word – someone capable of conceiving then manipulating his surroundings – and finally evolves into something sacred: an ageless prophet immortalized by his own pen.
Whitman’s prophetic aphorism becomes a posthumous correspondence with future generations of writers, and thus produces Ginsberg’s melancholy reflection. Whitman, Ginsberg’s “lonely old courage-teacher,” catalyzes the poetic lust in Ginsberg to be more than just an ordinary, arbitrary, blank face in the crowd that scurries towards an inevitable and bleak end. “A Supermarket in California” epitomizes poetic frustration and distress. The poet wanders “in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans / following [Whitman],” winding through aisles of physical objects in search for inspiration, for that which will secure his identity not as a physical object ticking like a time-bomb, but as a transcendent literary figure capable of inspiring further generations. Later in his literary career, Ginsberg arguably achieves this transcendence with “Howl,” a visceral, jarring, and very personal exposure of the tormented writers of the Beat generation. It is through “Howl” – an appropriately titled poem – that Ginsberg screams his way into prophetic existence and achieves his own long-awaited, torturously contemplated immortality.
The beauty of committing oneself to language lies in the idea that the poet has “the unique chance to re-create the world” (Hagenbuchle 430). That world he creates through such hallowed discernment continues to live and inspire long after his body becomes reduced to nothing more than dust. The fact that critics still analyze Whitman and Ginsberg’s works merely solidifies the fact that a poet, if he is lucky, can outlast even the unavoidable conclusion of physical existence. Though his lungs no longer breathe, his words do so in his stead.
Works Cited
Gargano, James W. “Technique in ‘Crossing Brooklyn Ferry’: The Everlasting Moment.” Journal of English and Germanic Philology 62 (1963): 262-269.
Ginsberg, Allen. “A Supermarket in California.” Perrine’s Literature. Structure, Sound, and Sense. Ed. Thomas R. Arp and Greg Johnson. Wadsworth Cengage Learning: Boston, 2009. 966.
Hagenbuchle, Roland. “Whitman’s Unfinished Quest for an American Identity”. ELH: A Journal of Literary History 40.3 1973: 428-478.
The Holy Bible. Oxford Bible Warehouse: New York, 1885.
Johnson, R. "The Poet and the Orator". Classical Philology 54.3 Jul. 1959: 173-176.
Whitman, Walt. “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.” Leaves of Grass. Bantam Books: New York, 1983. 128-132.
(John 1.1)
Since the birth of the written word, poets have struggled to express themselves adequately through language, groping blindly to prescribe words to that which they see, and more difficultly, to the abstract: to that which they feel and experience. The Greek word “Logos,” literally meaning “word,” is the root word of “logic,” or the basis of rational thought. In ancient Greece, the orator was the most revered in his society, for he who chose his words meticulously, passionately, and accurately was a prophetic man of reason (Johnson 175). The poet as a man of the word, and more specifically as the creator and manipulator of the word, assumes a godlike role when he assigns specific words to an abstraction or a physical object. By fixing an experience into words, one inevitably binds that experience exclusively to its descriptors. Thus, the tragedy of the poetic condition is born: does one dare to potentially bastardize the experience by confining it to words, or acknowledge that risk and immortalize the experience despite it? Walt Whitman and Allen Ginsberg both play curious roles in this unfortunate circumstance. In “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” Whitman indirectly accepts this tragedy, yet almost effortlessly manages to undo it; in “A Supermarket in California” Ginsberg reflects back to Whitman in his attempt to come to terms with the inevitable cross the poet must bear in consciously committing himself to language.
When discussing these poems and their parallels, it is vital to first understand the consequences of choosing to devote oneself to crafting poetry. Because the poet constantly assesses the world around him by scrutinizing and filtering every detail through an artistic and analytical lens, he inadvertently detaches himself from his world. His commitment to the word, nay, obsession with the word yields a peculiar and unavoidable sense of alienation from his peers, despite his irrefutable dependence on his environment for inspiration.
Whitman solidifies this concept through his word choice in “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.” “Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes, how curious you are to / me!” he exclaims, observing the unremarkable bodies mulling around him. “Curious” here implies an irreconcilable strangeness and division between the speaker and his subjects, and by focusing on the fissure, the speaker widens it. Later in the poem, Whitman “…maintains that he, as representative of nineteenth-century man, is ‘one’ with the men of the past and the men who will live [thereafter]” (Gargano 263), yet never associates himself with a contemporary or equal from his time. This further indicates his detachment from the people of his own generation and highlights his acknowledgement of the solitary poetic figures of the past and the future generations.
The speaker’s sense of alienation in “A Supermarket in California” is more accessible, as the entire poem emphasizes the excruciating burden of loneliness. From the offset, the speaker refers to himself as “self-conscious” and fatigued walking alone down alleyways. He begins “shopping for images” in, of all places, a supermarket. The common individual shops for items which provide physical satiation; here, the poet wanders the aisles longing for mental subsistence: an alleviation from the troubling condition that stems from his own lack of inspiration. The poet imagines himself in the company of Walt Whitman, the “childless, lonely old grubber,” and even though they walk together, they still are separate in their “solitary fancy.” This incidental concession on the part of the speaker addresses a certain isolation: even in the imaginative company of another man – another poet – an ineffable barricade still exists. However, the barrier between the speaker and Whitman differs enormously from that which divides the poet from his surroundings.
For the poet, there is no greater adversary than the limitations and consequences of time. Whether he states it explicitly in his work or not, each word, each line, each poem becomes a meditation on inevitability and mortality. A number of literary critiques of “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” focus primarily on the immediate, aesthetic aspects of the poem. The imagery in the poem is undeniably significant, such as the fluid, circular movement of the birds, the “pouring-in of the flood-tide, the falling-back to / the sea of the ebb-tide,” and the descriptions of the city from a ferry suspended on the water. The extensive use of imagery emphasizes the perpetuation of the physical world beyond the transience of the lives of men. The tide continues to ebb and flow with no regard to the men who look upon it: every life ends and the natural world remains practically unaffected. However, the overwhelmingly aesthetic nature of the poem merely highlights the prominent purpose of the poem. Whitman
warns us that an aesthetic approach alone cannot really touch the essential body of his work. [His] refusal to be judged according to established literary criteria is accompanied by the claim that his [writing] transcends literature…[and] bridges the gap between words and things, aesthetics and ethics, life and fiction (Hagenbuchle 452).
The importance of aesthetics in Whitman’s poem in no way should be called into question, though his imagery merely acts as a vehicle for his greatest and most astounding victory: his transcendence from the physical world and ultimately, his skillful and clever evasion of death.
The poet contends in the fifth section of the poem, “I too had received identity by my body, / That I was I knew was of my body, and what I should be I knew I should be of / my body”. He admits that the realization of the self must first stem from the physical world, and later confesses his all-too-human fixation with the physical world in the sixth section of the poem. He
Lived the same life with the rest, the same old laughing, gnawing, sleeping,
Played the part that still looks back on the actor or actress,
The same old role that is what we make it, as great as we like,
Or as small as we like, or both great and small.
After realizing and coming to terms with the physical nature of the self, the poet then performs his greatest feat. By consistently referring to himself in past tense he sheds his physical identity and replaces it with a more transcendental, spiritual one. He anticipates his future readers, and speaks as if he has already passed away, thereby preemptively accepting death and discarding it simultaneously. As the master and molder of language, he acknowledges the grave consequences of his choice to encapsulate his ideas, yet through his manipulation of words he manages to undergo a metamorphosis. He begins as a man, becomes a man of the word – someone capable of conceiving then manipulating his surroundings – and finally evolves into something sacred: an ageless prophet immortalized by his own pen.
Whitman’s prophetic aphorism becomes a posthumous correspondence with future generations of writers, and thus produces Ginsberg’s melancholy reflection. Whitman, Ginsberg’s “lonely old courage-teacher,” catalyzes the poetic lust in Ginsberg to be more than just an ordinary, arbitrary, blank face in the crowd that scurries towards an inevitable and bleak end. “A Supermarket in California” epitomizes poetic frustration and distress. The poet wanders “in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans / following [Whitman],” winding through aisles of physical objects in search for inspiration, for that which will secure his identity not as a physical object ticking like a time-bomb, but as a transcendent literary figure capable of inspiring further generations. Later in his literary career, Ginsberg arguably achieves this transcendence with “Howl,” a visceral, jarring, and very personal exposure of the tormented writers of the Beat generation. It is through “Howl” – an appropriately titled poem – that Ginsberg screams his way into prophetic existence and achieves his own long-awaited, torturously contemplated immortality.
The beauty of committing oneself to language lies in the idea that the poet has “the unique chance to re-create the world” (Hagenbuchle 430). That world he creates through such hallowed discernment continues to live and inspire long after his body becomes reduced to nothing more than dust. The fact that critics still analyze Whitman and Ginsberg’s works merely solidifies the fact that a poet, if he is lucky, can outlast even the unavoidable conclusion of physical existence. Though his lungs no longer breathe, his words do so in his stead.
Works Cited
Gargano, James W. “Technique in ‘Crossing Brooklyn Ferry’: The Everlasting Moment.” Journal of English and Germanic Philology 62 (1963): 262-269.
Ginsberg, Allen. “A Supermarket in California.” Perrine’s Literature. Structure, Sound, and Sense. Ed. Thomas R. Arp and Greg Johnson. Wadsworth Cengage Learning: Boston, 2009. 966.
Hagenbuchle, Roland. “Whitman’s Unfinished Quest for an American Identity”. ELH: A Journal of Literary History 40.3 1973: 428-478.
The Holy Bible. Oxford Bible Warehouse: New York, 1885.
Johnson, R. "The Poet and the Orator". Classical Philology 54.3 Jul. 1959: 173-176.
Whitman, Walt. “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.” Leaves of Grass. Bantam Books: New York, 1983. 128-132.
The Path to Love by Tommy Grevlos
Love has no middle ground. It is either the most enjoyable emotion in one’s life, or it can kill you. Sometimes, we can learn these feelings through other’s joys and sufferings. In Alice Munro’s short story, “How I Met My Husband,” Edie, the girl of hire, learns much about herself while observing others. Main characters and secondary characters alike play the major role in Edie’s quick development from immature adolescent to a maturing young woman.
There are many life-changing happenings that occur in Edie’s life through her journey of finding love. None are more apparent than her loss of innocence and a self-enlightenment or epiphany, which occurs near the tail end of the story. Her passage from girl to woman begins with her newly acquired job as a young housemaid. Innocent to the world around her, Edie only allows what she knows and has experienced to influence her decisions and opinions. She consistently points out the differences in the Peebles’ lifestyle from hers. Dr. and Mrs. Peebles are a middle aged married couple, and even though they appear nice and aware of other’s feelings, in all honesty, they are mostly worried about themselves and their family. Mostly, their feelings of superiority had conditioned them to think a certain way. “They like to feel you don’t notice things, that you don’t think or wonder about anything but what they liked to eat and how they liked things ironed, and so on,” (Munro 130). Their country home and surrounding town is all they seem to know. Edie feels fortunate enough to be working for this family, yet the differences in her childhood rearing are apparent in her thoughts. Within two paragraphs of literature, Edie tips at three different occasions when the Peebleses and her differ on varying issues. “…the Peebles thought she was a country woman, they didn’t know the difference.” “The Peebleses made her welcome, not knowing any better…” and, “’Have a house without a pie, be ashamed until you die,’ my mother used to say, but Mrs. Peebles operated differently,” (Munro 126). This is an acclamation to her immaturity at this point in the story.
Edie hints at her desire to break out of her adolescent shell when she snoops through Mrs. Peebles’ closet and ganders at trying on an expensive looking dress that is not hers. She decides to go through with the temptation. As she is performing a chore in the dress, a man by the name of Chris Watters enters her life, and with much surprise. He is the pilot of a local touring plane. His camp is local, and so close to the Peebles’ home that he surprises Edie when he comes to the screen door, asking to use their pump for water retrieval. Edie is so flustered with embarrassment and lost feelings that she agrees to let him use the house’s pump. Slowly, her youth begins to seep out into the obvious, and her conscious inquires to learn more about this strange stranger. As the plot progresses, Edie worries that the Pilot will talk to Mrs. Peebles about her dress being worn while she was away. This influences Edie to make an effort to talk to Chris. When she reaches him, she realizes that what she thought to be a mere acquaintance has a pull on her that she has never felt before. Her mouth gets dry, and her throat closes to a point where words are not allowed to escape. She realizes that the escape from her life lies right in front of her, with Chris, and his plane. Her life can change in an instant, and with a quick plane ride, she could be miles away from her old life, and many more miles ahead into a new life. What she doesn’t realize is her escape lies within what she will learn from Mr. Watters, not within the cockpit of his aircraft.
From the time she first met Chris, her maturity began to grow, and she started to leave the prolonged stage of adolescence. Edie narrates the entire story with internal dialogue, but we first get external speech from her when she makes her daily trips over to Chris’s camp. Munro does a wonderful job of portraying a clear difference between Edie, and the narrator’s account.
Halfway through the story, a shocking revelation is uncovered. We learn that Mr. Watter’s, the same man who had made it apparent to a young mind that he was interested, has a fiancé. This is yet another growing point in Edie’s life. A realization comes to her that she does have feelings for Chris, and now that she understands that he has a personal commitment to another woman, it starts to eat away at her emotions. She repeatedly finds herself spying on the pair, and the thought of Chris with another woman never leaves her mind. Jealousy can hint at the loss of innocence, because when one begins to feel envy, there has to be a reason. Jealousy doesn’t sprout up for just any thing, there must be something that is felt deep within the heart of the beholder. Such strong feelings are not felt by the innocent. This is especially for Edie because she is no longer just wondering about the pilot that makes camp across the field, but also the man behind the goggles. It occurs to her that there could be something more with their relationship, and not just casual day-to-day small talk. This attraction to Chris causes memories of she and one of her girl friends imagining their own intimacy, which was the beginning of her maturation. “Muriel Lowe and I used to sleep on her front veranda and watch her sister and her sister’s boyfriend say good night. Afterward, we couldn’t get to sleep, for longing for somebody to kiss us and rub up against us…” (Munro 134). These remembrances are slowly seeping into reality for Edie.
The next morning, the Peebleses decided to go on a family picnic. Alice, Chris’s fiancé, agreed to go with, and Edie was left to tend for the house. The picnic was scheduled to last from 11am to 5pm, so Edie knew she had enough time to talk to Chris. A while after the family had left, she baked a cake, and brought it out to the tent where Chris lay. At once, Edie noticed that something was out of the ordinary. Chris usually sat outside his tent during the daytime, but on today’s occasion, he was inside. As Edie enters the tent, Chris is happy to see her, but his mood still strikes Edie as different. We learn that he intends to leave the camp behind, and fly off, leaving Alice, and Edie, behind. The tent’s atmosphere soon changes, and without much elapse of time, Chris and Edie are kissing on his cot. This is the first time Edie learns of the love that she has been holding inside of her. Chris’s mere existence has given Edie the insight of what it is to be a woman, and sure enough the loss of innocence is apparent.
Edie was not in love with Chris, but she was absorbed in the concept of love. Her emotions toward Chris revealed more of an infatuation. When she experienced intimacy for the first time, the experience was so overwhelming that it clouded her judgments, and a quiet obsession arose. Everyday, Edie would wait by the mail box in hope of the letter Chris promised he would writer her. Day after day, the mail denied her of her dreams, but it did not shake her, for her judgments were still clouded. The mail boy became a curious character, but Edie was blind with obsession. There was a flirtatious feel between Edie, and the mail boy, and this friendship soon enough brought Edie to a self-realization. “One day walking back with the hydro bill stuck in my hand, that was all, looking across at the fairgrounds with the full-blown milkweed and dark teasels, so much like fall, it just struck me. No letter was ever going to come,” (Munro 140).
As Edie comes to this enlightenment, she breaks out of her shell of innocence completely, and becomes the woman that is narrating the story. With a quick end to the story, we learn that Edie ends up marrying the mail boy, and as this happens, she takes part in the true meaning of love. Sometimes, those that we least expect, give us more than we could ever have asked for.
Works Cited
Munro, Alice. "How I Met My Husband." Perrine's Literature : Structure, Sound, and Sense. By Thomas R. Arp and Greg Johnson. Boston: Heinle, 2008. 125-140.
There are many life-changing happenings that occur in Edie’s life through her journey of finding love. None are more apparent than her loss of innocence and a self-enlightenment or epiphany, which occurs near the tail end of the story. Her passage from girl to woman begins with her newly acquired job as a young housemaid. Innocent to the world around her, Edie only allows what she knows and has experienced to influence her decisions and opinions. She consistently points out the differences in the Peebles’ lifestyle from hers. Dr. and Mrs. Peebles are a middle aged married couple, and even though they appear nice and aware of other’s feelings, in all honesty, they are mostly worried about themselves and their family. Mostly, their feelings of superiority had conditioned them to think a certain way. “They like to feel you don’t notice things, that you don’t think or wonder about anything but what they liked to eat and how they liked things ironed, and so on,” (Munro 130). Their country home and surrounding town is all they seem to know. Edie feels fortunate enough to be working for this family, yet the differences in her childhood rearing are apparent in her thoughts. Within two paragraphs of literature, Edie tips at three different occasions when the Peebleses and her differ on varying issues. “…the Peebles thought she was a country woman, they didn’t know the difference.” “The Peebleses made her welcome, not knowing any better…” and, “’Have a house without a pie, be ashamed until you die,’ my mother used to say, but Mrs. Peebles operated differently,” (Munro 126). This is an acclamation to her immaturity at this point in the story.
Edie hints at her desire to break out of her adolescent shell when she snoops through Mrs. Peebles’ closet and ganders at trying on an expensive looking dress that is not hers. She decides to go through with the temptation. As she is performing a chore in the dress, a man by the name of Chris Watters enters her life, and with much surprise. He is the pilot of a local touring plane. His camp is local, and so close to the Peebles’ home that he surprises Edie when he comes to the screen door, asking to use their pump for water retrieval. Edie is so flustered with embarrassment and lost feelings that she agrees to let him use the house’s pump. Slowly, her youth begins to seep out into the obvious, and her conscious inquires to learn more about this strange stranger. As the plot progresses, Edie worries that the Pilot will talk to Mrs. Peebles about her dress being worn while she was away. This influences Edie to make an effort to talk to Chris. When she reaches him, she realizes that what she thought to be a mere acquaintance has a pull on her that she has never felt before. Her mouth gets dry, and her throat closes to a point where words are not allowed to escape. She realizes that the escape from her life lies right in front of her, with Chris, and his plane. Her life can change in an instant, and with a quick plane ride, she could be miles away from her old life, and many more miles ahead into a new life. What she doesn’t realize is her escape lies within what she will learn from Mr. Watters, not within the cockpit of his aircraft.
From the time she first met Chris, her maturity began to grow, and she started to leave the prolonged stage of adolescence. Edie narrates the entire story with internal dialogue, but we first get external speech from her when she makes her daily trips over to Chris’s camp. Munro does a wonderful job of portraying a clear difference between Edie, and the narrator’s account.
Halfway through the story, a shocking revelation is uncovered. We learn that Mr. Watter’s, the same man who had made it apparent to a young mind that he was interested, has a fiancé. This is yet another growing point in Edie’s life. A realization comes to her that she does have feelings for Chris, and now that she understands that he has a personal commitment to another woman, it starts to eat away at her emotions. She repeatedly finds herself spying on the pair, and the thought of Chris with another woman never leaves her mind. Jealousy can hint at the loss of innocence, because when one begins to feel envy, there has to be a reason. Jealousy doesn’t sprout up for just any thing, there must be something that is felt deep within the heart of the beholder. Such strong feelings are not felt by the innocent. This is especially for Edie because she is no longer just wondering about the pilot that makes camp across the field, but also the man behind the goggles. It occurs to her that there could be something more with their relationship, and not just casual day-to-day small talk. This attraction to Chris causes memories of she and one of her girl friends imagining their own intimacy, which was the beginning of her maturation. “Muriel Lowe and I used to sleep on her front veranda and watch her sister and her sister’s boyfriend say good night. Afterward, we couldn’t get to sleep, for longing for somebody to kiss us and rub up against us…” (Munro 134). These remembrances are slowly seeping into reality for Edie.
The next morning, the Peebleses decided to go on a family picnic. Alice, Chris’s fiancé, agreed to go with, and Edie was left to tend for the house. The picnic was scheduled to last from 11am to 5pm, so Edie knew she had enough time to talk to Chris. A while after the family had left, she baked a cake, and brought it out to the tent where Chris lay. At once, Edie noticed that something was out of the ordinary. Chris usually sat outside his tent during the daytime, but on today’s occasion, he was inside. As Edie enters the tent, Chris is happy to see her, but his mood still strikes Edie as different. We learn that he intends to leave the camp behind, and fly off, leaving Alice, and Edie, behind. The tent’s atmosphere soon changes, and without much elapse of time, Chris and Edie are kissing on his cot. This is the first time Edie learns of the love that she has been holding inside of her. Chris’s mere existence has given Edie the insight of what it is to be a woman, and sure enough the loss of innocence is apparent.
Edie was not in love with Chris, but she was absorbed in the concept of love. Her emotions toward Chris revealed more of an infatuation. When she experienced intimacy for the first time, the experience was so overwhelming that it clouded her judgments, and a quiet obsession arose. Everyday, Edie would wait by the mail box in hope of the letter Chris promised he would writer her. Day after day, the mail denied her of her dreams, but it did not shake her, for her judgments were still clouded. The mail boy became a curious character, but Edie was blind with obsession. There was a flirtatious feel between Edie, and the mail boy, and this friendship soon enough brought Edie to a self-realization. “One day walking back with the hydro bill stuck in my hand, that was all, looking across at the fairgrounds with the full-blown milkweed and dark teasels, so much like fall, it just struck me. No letter was ever going to come,” (Munro 140).
As Edie comes to this enlightenment, she breaks out of her shell of innocence completely, and becomes the woman that is narrating the story. With a quick end to the story, we learn that Edie ends up marrying the mail boy, and as this happens, she takes part in the true meaning of love. Sometimes, those that we least expect, give us more than we could ever have asked for.
Works Cited
Munro, Alice. "How I Met My Husband." Perrine's Literature : Structure, Sound, and Sense. By Thomas R. Arp and Greg Johnson. Boston: Heinle, 2008. 125-140.
The “Masking” of Identities in “Life After High School” by Anna Pusateri
Joyce Carol Oates’ “Life After High School” is a story of masked identity that the two main characters, Sunny and Zachary, experience. Society’s views on sexuality and what was perceived as “right” or “wrong” influence how each character is developed, but as the story progresses the characters evolve and “shed” their masks. The descriptions Oates uses for each character’s persona are crucial for growth in order to sway the reader’s perceptions on the evolution of the character from beginning to end. The evolution the character’s face throughout the short story is very important to the idea that as they mature and find their true selves, thus they shed the “masks” that they hide behind. In Zachary’s case, he hides behind his true sexuality and Sunny hides behind what others want her to be and who she truly wants to be.
The characters are all described by the narrator as “living behind masks” in order to conceal their true personas. Each character struggles with the ideal of themselves society has forced upon them. Zachary Graff’s “mask” is portrayed in his physical appearance, covering the fact that he is homosexual. Although Zachary cannot help how his looks are physically, he could change aspects of how he dresses and is presented to the public, such as his choice of clothing and glasses. Oates does not fail to describe in detail the severity of his looks, stating “[h]is head appeared oversized, even for his massive body; his eyes were deep-set, with a look of watchfulness and secrecy (…)” (487). His character hides behind his outward appearance in order to conceal his sexuality. Also, more than once his glasses are referenced in the story. “And he pushed his chunky black glasses roughly against the bridge of his nose, as he did countless times a day, as if they were in danger of sliding off” (487). The glasses represent a shield that Zachary’s character put up between the world and himself. This portrays the fear that Zachary’s character had that someone would find out that he was homosexual by comparing Zachary’s fear with the fear that his glasses would fall off and someone would be able to look into Zachary’s eyes and see his true sexuality.
Just as Zachary hid behind his physical appearance, “Sunny” Burhman’s mask was her name and personality. Her character was given the name “Sunny” by a teacher in Middle school. Her teacher instructed the class to begin calling Barbara “Sunny” because “that’s what she was” (489). Sunny was given no choice in the matter pertaining to her name. It just stuck. It is no mistake that Barbara’s name was changed to “Sunny”. It reflects the opinion others had of her persona that she felt she had to live up to, being happy and “sunny” all the time. Gates says, “Like Sunny Burhman, who was, or seemed, even at the time of this story too good to be true” (486). The previous quote illustrates that she “seemed” to good to be true, as if the narrator of the story was questioning her real personality. This is interesting because Barbara was really an intellectual who wanted to shine, but wanted to please and conform to what other people around her wanted her to be and act.
Both Zachary and Sunny’s characters face the moral dilemma of living up to society’s standards, reinforcing why they hid behind their “masks”. Zachary’s father was a well liked Doctor, so it was a surprise when Zacharay committed suicide. It was “out of character” for this type of tragedy to befall such a respected family. This was because Zachary had been hiding behind the mask of what others wanted him to be, rather than being his true self. He became unhappy and confused as to whether or not he truly had feelings for Sunny or Tobias. Sunny was faced with the pressure that she had to be nice to everyone. It’s illustrated by the statement that”(…) Sunny could not tell Zachary Graff to get lost. Such words were not part of her vocabulary” (489). The choice of words stating that she “could not tell Zachary Graff to get lost” (489) are ironic. It was not impossible for her to state simply “no”, but the fact that she was worried how others would react to stating her true feelings, mean or not.
In consulting the larger theme of the story, however, we need to consider Oates’ choice of a title. “Life After High school”
not only centers on death, but it also plays into the moral of the story. Just the wording “life” is interesting because it contrasts with the idea of Zachary’s character’s death and Sunny’s character’s false personality “dying”. For two of the characters, Sunny and Tobias, life moved on and changed after they were out of high school. They shed their “masks”. Sunny’s character became a writer and left her “Sunny” persona behind. “The irony had not escaped Barbara Burhman that, in casting away his young life so recklessly, Zachary Graff had freed her for hers” (495)”. By committing suicide, Zachary had given the Sunny the chance to be an individual. Although Sunny had escaped her former high school persona, she still felt guilty for Zachary’s death. She never told her husband of 28 years anything about Zachary, as if she still felt guilty (495). Yet, Zachary had ended his own life and forever was embedded with his high school identity, still stuck with his “mask” on. “Forever, Zachary Graff, the most brilliant member of the class of 1959 of South Lebanon High, would remain a high school boy, trapped, aged eighteen” (495). Close reading illustrates that when Zachary killed himself, he was “stripped to his underwear” (494). This alludes that at the end, Zachary wanted to show his true self, with no limitations or coverings.
The time period in which “Life After High School” is set adds to the theme of the story. This piece was set in 1959, although Oates first had the story published in 1996 (498). Oates writes the story about a homosexual boy to portray the change of times and social norms from 1959 to 1996. Zachary’s death was instigated by the fear that he would not be accepted by the social norms of 1959, thus leading to his untimely suicide. This is illustrated by the following passage. “Their ghost-selves were there - not aged, or not aged merely, but transformed as the genes of a previous generation are transformed by the next” (496). Just as the “genes” of a generation are changed, so are ideals about what is socially acceptable, such as homosexuality.
The reoccurring theme of innocence is also very prevalent in this story. Towards the beginning of the piece, Sunny is constantly being referred as to being pure and “virginal” (487). Oates uses the technique of foreshadowing when she writes,
Though one day, and soon, Sunny would examine her beliefs, and question the faith into which she’d been born; she had not done so by the age of seventeen and a half. She was a virgin, and virginal in all, or most, of her thoughts (487).
She foreshadows the unseen circumstances that will soon befall the characters of Sunny and Zachary. Religion is also brought up numerous times throughout the piece. In the beginning, Sunny is a devout Christian, praying and relying upon her religion to get her through tough times. Whether or not she is a practicing Christian due to her personal beliefs, or due to the fact that her parents’ wanted her to, is unknown. As Sunny’s character changes and leaves her “Sunny” persona behind, she also leaves behind the Christian religion. Zachary relies on religion towards the beginning of the story, and yet, after he kills himself, he is found with a Bible in his car. This means that even though he wanted to escape reality, he still valued certain points in his life, such as personal beliefs.
Sunny and Zachary’s characters evolve greatly from the beginning to the end of the piece when both characters finally “take off their masks”. Sunny’s changes influence her views and perceptions, as she matures and begins to think as an individual and more independently. Zachary’s character changes in the way that he “escapes society” by killing himself. Both characters are examples that society’s expectations influence development and growth, whether it is for better or for worse for one’s self.
Works Cited
Oates, Joyce Carol. “Life after High School.” Perrine’s Story and Structure. 10th ed. Thomas R.
Arp and Greg Johnson. Boston: Wadsworth, 2006. 484-498.
The characters are all described by the narrator as “living behind masks” in order to conceal their true personas. Each character struggles with the ideal of themselves society has forced upon them. Zachary Graff’s “mask” is portrayed in his physical appearance, covering the fact that he is homosexual. Although Zachary cannot help how his looks are physically, he could change aspects of how he dresses and is presented to the public, such as his choice of clothing and glasses. Oates does not fail to describe in detail the severity of his looks, stating “[h]is head appeared oversized, even for his massive body; his eyes were deep-set, with a look of watchfulness and secrecy (…)” (487). His character hides behind his outward appearance in order to conceal his sexuality. Also, more than once his glasses are referenced in the story. “And he pushed his chunky black glasses roughly against the bridge of his nose, as he did countless times a day, as if they were in danger of sliding off” (487). The glasses represent a shield that Zachary’s character put up between the world and himself. This portrays the fear that Zachary’s character had that someone would find out that he was homosexual by comparing Zachary’s fear with the fear that his glasses would fall off and someone would be able to look into Zachary’s eyes and see his true sexuality.
Just as Zachary hid behind his physical appearance, “Sunny” Burhman’s mask was her name and personality. Her character was given the name “Sunny” by a teacher in Middle school. Her teacher instructed the class to begin calling Barbara “Sunny” because “that’s what she was” (489). Sunny was given no choice in the matter pertaining to her name. It just stuck. It is no mistake that Barbara’s name was changed to “Sunny”. It reflects the opinion others had of her persona that she felt she had to live up to, being happy and “sunny” all the time. Gates says, “Like Sunny Burhman, who was, or seemed, even at the time of this story too good to be true” (486). The previous quote illustrates that she “seemed” to good to be true, as if the narrator of the story was questioning her real personality. This is interesting because Barbara was really an intellectual who wanted to shine, but wanted to please and conform to what other people around her wanted her to be and act.
Both Zachary and Sunny’s characters face the moral dilemma of living up to society’s standards, reinforcing why they hid behind their “masks”. Zachary’s father was a well liked Doctor, so it was a surprise when Zacharay committed suicide. It was “out of character” for this type of tragedy to befall such a respected family. This was because Zachary had been hiding behind the mask of what others wanted him to be, rather than being his true self. He became unhappy and confused as to whether or not he truly had feelings for Sunny or Tobias. Sunny was faced with the pressure that she had to be nice to everyone. It’s illustrated by the statement that”(…) Sunny could not tell Zachary Graff to get lost. Such words were not part of her vocabulary” (489). The choice of words stating that she “could not tell Zachary Graff to get lost” (489) are ironic. It was not impossible for her to state simply “no”, but the fact that she was worried how others would react to stating her true feelings, mean or not.
In consulting the larger theme of the story, however, we need to consider Oates’ choice of a title. “Life After High school”
not only centers on death, but it also plays into the moral of the story. Just the wording “life” is interesting because it contrasts with the idea of Zachary’s character’s death and Sunny’s character’s false personality “dying”. For two of the characters, Sunny and Tobias, life moved on and changed after they were out of high school. They shed their “masks”. Sunny’s character became a writer and left her “Sunny” persona behind. “The irony had not escaped Barbara Burhman that, in casting away his young life so recklessly, Zachary Graff had freed her for hers” (495)”. By committing suicide, Zachary had given the Sunny the chance to be an individual. Although Sunny had escaped her former high school persona, she still felt guilty for Zachary’s death. She never told her husband of 28 years anything about Zachary, as if she still felt guilty (495). Yet, Zachary had ended his own life and forever was embedded with his high school identity, still stuck with his “mask” on. “Forever, Zachary Graff, the most brilliant member of the class of 1959 of South Lebanon High, would remain a high school boy, trapped, aged eighteen” (495). Close reading illustrates that when Zachary killed himself, he was “stripped to his underwear” (494). This alludes that at the end, Zachary wanted to show his true self, with no limitations or coverings.
The time period in which “Life After High School” is set adds to the theme of the story. This piece was set in 1959, although Oates first had the story published in 1996 (498). Oates writes the story about a homosexual boy to portray the change of times and social norms from 1959 to 1996. Zachary’s death was instigated by the fear that he would not be accepted by the social norms of 1959, thus leading to his untimely suicide. This is illustrated by the following passage. “Their ghost-selves were there - not aged, or not aged merely, but transformed as the genes of a previous generation are transformed by the next” (496). Just as the “genes” of a generation are changed, so are ideals about what is socially acceptable, such as homosexuality.
The reoccurring theme of innocence is also very prevalent in this story. Towards the beginning of the piece, Sunny is constantly being referred as to being pure and “virginal” (487). Oates uses the technique of foreshadowing when she writes,
Though one day, and soon, Sunny would examine her beliefs, and question the faith into which she’d been born; she had not done so by the age of seventeen and a half. She was a virgin, and virginal in all, or most, of her thoughts (487).
She foreshadows the unseen circumstances that will soon befall the characters of Sunny and Zachary. Religion is also brought up numerous times throughout the piece. In the beginning, Sunny is a devout Christian, praying and relying upon her religion to get her through tough times. Whether or not she is a practicing Christian due to her personal beliefs, or due to the fact that her parents’ wanted her to, is unknown. As Sunny’s character changes and leaves her “Sunny” persona behind, she also leaves behind the Christian religion. Zachary relies on religion towards the beginning of the story, and yet, after he kills himself, he is found with a Bible in his car. This means that even though he wanted to escape reality, he still valued certain points in his life, such as personal beliefs.
Sunny and Zachary’s characters evolve greatly from the beginning to the end of the piece when both characters finally “take off their masks”. Sunny’s changes influence her views and perceptions, as she matures and begins to think as an individual and more independently. Zachary’s character changes in the way that he “escapes society” by killing himself. Both characters are examples that society’s expectations influence development and growth, whether it is for better or for worse for one’s self.
Works Cited
Oates, Joyce Carol. “Life after High School.” Perrine’s Story and Structure. 10th ed. Thomas R.
Arp and Greg Johnson. Boston: Wadsworth, 2006. 484-498.
Surrounded by Derek Sanderson
Is their religion in your life? You may be surrounded by religion and just not know it. In Tim Gautreaux’s “Welding with Children”, the main character Bruton feels that he is far from religion, while he is actually surrounded by it.
It’s not that Bruton is surrounded by preachers or actual biblical figures, instead he is in several different situations that reflect situations from biblical texts. He is also put into situations that are similar to stories from the bible.
A parallel from the story to a biblical story is shown as Bruton states, “I took another swallow and wondered why one of us didn’t do it. I looked out to my Caprice sitting in the shade of a pecan tree, shadows of leaves moving on it, making it wiggle like a dark green flame, and I realized we couldn’t drive away from ourselves. We couldn’t escape in the bastardmobile.” (206) In this scene Bruton is realizing more and more that his wife and daughter’s are oppressing the children. He sees that the only way to truly save the, is to take them away to a new town and start a new life with them. This is very similar to the situation that Moses from the bible is placed in when he is told to save his people from the oppression of the pharaoh and take them to a new land. They are both given the responsibility of several people who depend on them to help them escape their current ruling, or parenting, and give them a better life where they may prosper. Bruton also describes the shadow of the leaves on the car as “wiggling like a dark green flame”. It is as if the car is enflamed but not actually on fire. This image is also being made by leaves onto the green car. This parallels the burning bush in the story of Moses. God speaks to him through a burning green bush that is on fire but not actually burning. When Moses sees this, he also hears God tell him that he must save his people and take them away from the oppression of the pharaoh. It is no coincidence that this is also the moment that Bruton realizes the only way to save the children’s future is to take them away from their home and that he is the one who must do it. Some may also find similarity in that God tells Moses to tell his people that he was given his message from, “the God of their father’s”, considering that Bruton is, “the father of the children’s mothers”. Like Moses, Bruton’s mission is not an easy one. In fact, it seems almost impossible to him at the time, although he knows it is the right thing to do.
Another similarity in this situation is the idea of a plague. In Moses’ story, his people face a plague until he frees them. This plague is remembered by most as consisting of raining frogs, an infestation of locusts, water turning to blood, etc. Bruton is also faced with some stages of this plague in a way, on a much smaller scale of course. Gautreaux writes, “..we sat inside on the couch because the heat had waked up the yellow flies outside.” (p. 205) The flies coming out and bothering them enough to force them inside is comparable to a much smaller scale of the locusts. Another stage of the plague from the bible story is the killing of the first born son from every family. Toward the end of the story, Bruton comments that his daughter brings back the children for him to watch again. She brings back all of the children except for the oldest child. (p.210) This again is a representation on a smaller scale, in that the child is not killed, but just missing from the rest of the story. These are small ideas of how the family is plagued until Bruton finally decides to take them away, which he never does.
Another scene from the story that is easily comparable to religion is the scene where Bruton talks with Mr. Fordlyson. This scene shares many similarities with the Bible story of Adam and Eve and the Tree of Knowledge. The first obvious connection is that he says he sees Mr. Fordlyson sitting under the “Tree of Knowledge”. Gautreaux writes, “Bruton’, he said,. ‘Too hot to weld?’ I didn’t think it was a friendly comment, though he waved for me to come over. ‘Something like that.’ I was tempted to come over.” (p. 207) Mr. Fordlyson tempting him to come over is similar to the snake in the garden of Eden tempting Adam and Eve. He also describes Mr. Fordlyson as having, “little nickel-colored eyes”, “toddling off”, and being upset when talking about a preacher, “taking up serpents”. (p.208-209) These are all descriptors that could be used to describe a snake. Bruton also talks about grabbing fruit from the tree, a pecan instead of an apple, but instead of persuading him to eat it, Mr. Fordlyson tells him not to. This is quite the opposite of the bible story, but has many similair elements. Mr, Fordlyson tells him to find religion to help him solve his problems instead of telling him to stray away from it as the snake does. Mr. Fordlyson is also described as being an ex-deacon of a church, which makes him the opposite of a creation of satin and deception of God. Rather than tell Bruton to follow the women in their sin, he tells Bruton to stay away from women and that they are the root of his problems. The snake in the Bible tells Adam to follow Eve and eat the fruit from the tree. Towards the end of their conversation, Mr. Fordlyson is described as,” waving his finger in the air like a little sword”. (p.208) When Adam and Eve are kicked out of the garden of Eden, God has an angel with a sword of fire run them out of paradise. Mr. Fordlyson uses his, “sword”, to chase Bruton away from his ways and lead him into a paradise of enlightenment for him and his grandchildren.
In the end of the story we are left with Bruton still searching for an escape and for his salvation, which has been surrounding him the entire time. Thus proving that sometimes the answer we search for is right in front of our faces the entire time. So I ask again, is there religion in your life?
Works Cited
Gautreaux, Tim. “Welding With Children.” Perrine's Literature : Structure, Sound, and Sense. By Thomas R. Arp and Greg Johnson. Boston: Heinle, 2008.
It’s not that Bruton is surrounded by preachers or actual biblical figures, instead he is in several different situations that reflect situations from biblical texts. He is also put into situations that are similar to stories from the bible.
A parallel from the story to a biblical story is shown as Bruton states, “I took another swallow and wondered why one of us didn’t do it. I looked out to my Caprice sitting in the shade of a pecan tree, shadows of leaves moving on it, making it wiggle like a dark green flame, and I realized we couldn’t drive away from ourselves. We couldn’t escape in the bastardmobile.” (206) In this scene Bruton is realizing more and more that his wife and daughter’s are oppressing the children. He sees that the only way to truly save the, is to take them away to a new town and start a new life with them. This is very similar to the situation that Moses from the bible is placed in when he is told to save his people from the oppression of the pharaoh and take them to a new land. They are both given the responsibility of several people who depend on them to help them escape their current ruling, or parenting, and give them a better life where they may prosper. Bruton also describes the shadow of the leaves on the car as “wiggling like a dark green flame”. It is as if the car is enflamed but not actually on fire. This image is also being made by leaves onto the green car. This parallels the burning bush in the story of Moses. God speaks to him through a burning green bush that is on fire but not actually burning. When Moses sees this, he also hears God tell him that he must save his people and take them away from the oppression of the pharaoh. It is no coincidence that this is also the moment that Bruton realizes the only way to save the children’s future is to take them away from their home and that he is the one who must do it. Some may also find similarity in that God tells Moses to tell his people that he was given his message from, “the God of their father’s”, considering that Bruton is, “the father of the children’s mothers”. Like Moses, Bruton’s mission is not an easy one. In fact, it seems almost impossible to him at the time, although he knows it is the right thing to do.
Another similarity in this situation is the idea of a plague. In Moses’ story, his people face a plague until he frees them. This plague is remembered by most as consisting of raining frogs, an infestation of locusts, water turning to blood, etc. Bruton is also faced with some stages of this plague in a way, on a much smaller scale of course. Gautreaux writes, “..we sat inside on the couch because the heat had waked up the yellow flies outside.” (p. 205) The flies coming out and bothering them enough to force them inside is comparable to a much smaller scale of the locusts. Another stage of the plague from the bible story is the killing of the first born son from every family. Toward the end of the story, Bruton comments that his daughter brings back the children for him to watch again. She brings back all of the children except for the oldest child. (p.210) This again is a representation on a smaller scale, in that the child is not killed, but just missing from the rest of the story. These are small ideas of how the family is plagued until Bruton finally decides to take them away, which he never does.
Another scene from the story that is easily comparable to religion is the scene where Bruton talks with Mr. Fordlyson. This scene shares many similarities with the Bible story of Adam and Eve and the Tree of Knowledge. The first obvious connection is that he says he sees Mr. Fordlyson sitting under the “Tree of Knowledge”. Gautreaux writes, “Bruton’, he said,. ‘Too hot to weld?’ I didn’t think it was a friendly comment, though he waved for me to come over. ‘Something like that.’ I was tempted to come over.” (p. 207) Mr. Fordlyson tempting him to come over is similar to the snake in the garden of Eden tempting Adam and Eve. He also describes Mr. Fordlyson as having, “little nickel-colored eyes”, “toddling off”, and being upset when talking about a preacher, “taking up serpents”. (p.208-209) These are all descriptors that could be used to describe a snake. Bruton also talks about grabbing fruit from the tree, a pecan instead of an apple, but instead of persuading him to eat it, Mr. Fordlyson tells him not to. This is quite the opposite of the bible story, but has many similair elements. Mr, Fordlyson tells him to find religion to help him solve his problems instead of telling him to stray away from it as the snake does. Mr. Fordlyson is also described as being an ex-deacon of a church, which makes him the opposite of a creation of satin and deception of God. Rather than tell Bruton to follow the women in their sin, he tells Bruton to stay away from women and that they are the root of his problems. The snake in the Bible tells Adam to follow Eve and eat the fruit from the tree. Towards the end of their conversation, Mr. Fordlyson is described as,” waving his finger in the air like a little sword”. (p.208) When Adam and Eve are kicked out of the garden of Eden, God has an angel with a sword of fire run them out of paradise. Mr. Fordlyson uses his, “sword”, to chase Bruton away from his ways and lead him into a paradise of enlightenment for him and his grandchildren.
In the end of the story we are left with Bruton still searching for an escape and for his salvation, which has been surrounding him the entire time. Thus proving that sometimes the answer we search for is right in front of our faces the entire time. So I ask again, is there religion in your life?
Works Cited
Gautreaux, Tim. “Welding With Children.” Perrine's Literature : Structure, Sound, and Sense. By Thomas R. Arp and Greg Johnson. Boston: Heinle, 2008.
Motivations of Delinquents and Artists in Graham Greene’s “The Destructors” by Jay Rodriguez
Graham Greene’s short story “The Destructors” explores the power of creativity through the actions of a gang of prepubescent boys in post-World War II London. The gang, headquartered in a parking lot, is led alternatingly by Blackie and Trevor, who is known within the gang by his more working-class moniker, T. Blackie leads the group at the outset of the story, but T. assumes control of the gang after he proposes to destroy the beautiful old house that borders their car park. For most of the boys in the gang, destroying the house is of the same spirit as their usual mischief, just on a larger scale that is apt to get them some attention and praise from other gangs. For T., however, the act of destroying the house becomes an act of creation, which allows him to assert his identity as a being with the power to create and destroy and therefore a freedom from the things that had constrained him.
Greene first introduces the house that is to be destroyed, owned by a Mr. Thomas (whom the boys call Old Misery), as one of the houses that survived the German bombing campaign in World War II known as the Blitz. The house is now structurally imperfect as a result of wounds suffered during that bombing, but it retains some of its former glory. A famous architect, Wren, built the house and it stands alone next to the gang’s car park, at a slight lean, because of its age and the bombs. The house is intended as a work of art. It was crafted by an artist—an architect who also designs churches—and it stands as an artifact of the will of that artist. After touring the house with its owner, Old Misery, T. reports back to the gang and lays out his plan to destroy it. T. describes the house as beautiful, which description shows that T. is able to appreciate a work of art like the house and that he understands what is beautiful. The beauty of the architect Wren’s creation consists of the original creative energy of the artist as well as T.’s inspired plans for the future destruction of the house.
T.’s creative act is the systematic destruction of the house. Graham Greene writes that the boys “worked with the seriousness of creators—and destruction after all is a form of creation” (p. 118), especially when the destruction is engaged in so carefully and with such organization. When Blackie, whom T. supplanted as gang leader for the course of the destruction of the house, walked into the house for the first time, “he had at once the impression of organization, very different from the old happy-go-lucky ways under his leadership” (117). Under Blackie’s guidance, the gang had concerned themselves with mischief and general discourteousness. Their most recent plan had been to attempt to get, or steal, free bus rides. The destruction of the house is a departure from the gang’s earlier, petty dealings in that destroying the house is a creative act by which T. can assert and define himself in the world as a being with the ability to create and destroy. This would set him apart from Blackie and the gang, who are only able to react and rebel, but not impose their will.
Up to the moment of its destruction, the house itself parallels the character of T. The house had once been well maintained, but since the war its owner does his best to repair the house alone, and the house suffered for it. T., on the other hand, was born to aristocratic parents, who named him Trevor. Then his father “ ‘had come down in the world’ and […] his mother [still] considered herself better than the neighbors” (112). T. and the house both are described by a wealth, or an original sense of value, that has decayed. However, T. has the ability, through his act of creation, to separate himself from the house and establish an identity for himself that is based on what he does rather than what he is made of. In fact, T.’s creation is the only the thing that keeps him from returning to his wounded aristocratic identity. T. is named T. so long as he is pursuing his creative vision, and it is only when it seems as though he will fail to destroy the house, and so fail to fulfill his creative vision and fail to assert his power as a creating agent, that the boys in the gang return to calling him Trevor. This happens when Old Misery seems as though he is about to interrupt T.’s project, and the boys are ready to quit. For a moment, T. loses his power over the house as he loses his ability to shape its destruction how he planned. Then Blackie intervenes, asking “[w]hat’s your plan, T.?” (120) and once again submitting himself, and the boys he controlled, to T. T. is then able to prevent Old Misery from entering the house, and the destruction proceeds as planned.
T.’s transformation from Trevor to T., although it begins when he joins the gang, is not completed until the destruction of the house. It sets him apart from the other characters in the story, while at the beginning of the story he resembled them. While T. is a creator, Mr. Thomas wants no part of creating anything. He is comfortable merely maintaining his house, which he believes was “saved so narrowly […] from destruction” (120) during the Blitz, and he allows himself to be manipulated and trapped in his own lavatory by children. The house has a power over him that T. has managed to surpass with the act of destruction. The boys in the gang, too, do not fully understand the power they manifest in their destruction, and while they can appreciate their actions, they do not understand them. This is evident when T. and Blackie are setting fire to Old Misery’s savings, one bill at a time, and Blackie asks if T. hates Old Misery. T. responds by saying he does not hate Old Misery and “ ‘there’d be no fun if [he] hated him’ ” (118). He adds that ‘all this hate and love’ is “hooey” and ‘there’s only things’ (118). In T.’s valuation, there exist only things and the people that can manipulate things. T. is making himself into one of those people that has the power to move and therefore create things. T. is not influenced by love or hate, or by a desire for possessions, as the other boys in his gang are. He forbids the gang, who had been petty thieves, from taking anything from the house. He says “Nobody’s going to steal anything from this house” and when he and Blackie burn Old Misery’s savings, it is a “celebration” (118) of their newly acquired power over those “things.” The boys set the money on fire just to watch it burn, and for each bill, to celebrate the freedom that comes with their disassociation from a dependent relationship on things.
The story ends as a lorry driver and Old Misery look upon the ruined pile of rubble that was formerly a house, and the lorry driver, who had unwittingly applied the last impetus that toppled the house, laughs. The fact that he is amused by the destruction, says “there’s nothing personal, but you got to admit it’s funny” (124) to Old Misery, shows that he can appreciate the destruction of the house as an aesthetic event, without any other attachment to either the house or Old Misery’s ownership of the house. T., who had gained a temporary freedom from his dependence on things through his creative act of destruction, would have expected his work to be appreciated in just that light manner. T.’s actions, which could have appeared cruelly motivated, were actually a stand against whatever would keep him down. Greene’s story shows it is only through creativity and art that we might transcend our circumstances.
Works Cited
Greene, Graham. “The Destructors.” Perrine’s Literature: Structure, Sound and Sense, 10th Edition. Ed. Thomas R. Arp, et al. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2009. 111-125.
Greene first introduces the house that is to be destroyed, owned by a Mr. Thomas (whom the boys call Old Misery), as one of the houses that survived the German bombing campaign in World War II known as the Blitz. The house is now structurally imperfect as a result of wounds suffered during that bombing, but it retains some of its former glory. A famous architect, Wren, built the house and it stands alone next to the gang’s car park, at a slight lean, because of its age and the bombs. The house is intended as a work of art. It was crafted by an artist—an architect who also designs churches—and it stands as an artifact of the will of that artist. After touring the house with its owner, Old Misery, T. reports back to the gang and lays out his plan to destroy it. T. describes the house as beautiful, which description shows that T. is able to appreciate a work of art like the house and that he understands what is beautiful. The beauty of the architect Wren’s creation consists of the original creative energy of the artist as well as T.’s inspired plans for the future destruction of the house.
T.’s creative act is the systematic destruction of the house. Graham Greene writes that the boys “worked with the seriousness of creators—and destruction after all is a form of creation” (p. 118), especially when the destruction is engaged in so carefully and with such organization. When Blackie, whom T. supplanted as gang leader for the course of the destruction of the house, walked into the house for the first time, “he had at once the impression of organization, very different from the old happy-go-lucky ways under his leadership” (117). Under Blackie’s guidance, the gang had concerned themselves with mischief and general discourteousness. Their most recent plan had been to attempt to get, or steal, free bus rides. The destruction of the house is a departure from the gang’s earlier, petty dealings in that destroying the house is a creative act by which T. can assert and define himself in the world as a being with the ability to create and destroy. This would set him apart from Blackie and the gang, who are only able to react and rebel, but not impose their will.
Up to the moment of its destruction, the house itself parallels the character of T. The house had once been well maintained, but since the war its owner does his best to repair the house alone, and the house suffered for it. T., on the other hand, was born to aristocratic parents, who named him Trevor. Then his father “ ‘had come down in the world’ and […] his mother [still] considered herself better than the neighbors” (112). T. and the house both are described by a wealth, or an original sense of value, that has decayed. However, T. has the ability, through his act of creation, to separate himself from the house and establish an identity for himself that is based on what he does rather than what he is made of. In fact, T.’s creation is the only the thing that keeps him from returning to his wounded aristocratic identity. T. is named T. so long as he is pursuing his creative vision, and it is only when it seems as though he will fail to destroy the house, and so fail to fulfill his creative vision and fail to assert his power as a creating agent, that the boys in the gang return to calling him Trevor. This happens when Old Misery seems as though he is about to interrupt T.’s project, and the boys are ready to quit. For a moment, T. loses his power over the house as he loses his ability to shape its destruction how he planned. Then Blackie intervenes, asking “[w]hat’s your plan, T.?” (120) and once again submitting himself, and the boys he controlled, to T. T. is then able to prevent Old Misery from entering the house, and the destruction proceeds as planned.
T.’s transformation from Trevor to T., although it begins when he joins the gang, is not completed until the destruction of the house. It sets him apart from the other characters in the story, while at the beginning of the story he resembled them. While T. is a creator, Mr. Thomas wants no part of creating anything. He is comfortable merely maintaining his house, which he believes was “saved so narrowly […] from destruction” (120) during the Blitz, and he allows himself to be manipulated and trapped in his own lavatory by children. The house has a power over him that T. has managed to surpass with the act of destruction. The boys in the gang, too, do not fully understand the power they manifest in their destruction, and while they can appreciate their actions, they do not understand them. This is evident when T. and Blackie are setting fire to Old Misery’s savings, one bill at a time, and Blackie asks if T. hates Old Misery. T. responds by saying he does not hate Old Misery and “ ‘there’d be no fun if [he] hated him’ ” (118). He adds that ‘all this hate and love’ is “hooey” and ‘there’s only things’ (118). In T.’s valuation, there exist only things and the people that can manipulate things. T. is making himself into one of those people that has the power to move and therefore create things. T. is not influenced by love or hate, or by a desire for possessions, as the other boys in his gang are. He forbids the gang, who had been petty thieves, from taking anything from the house. He says “Nobody’s going to steal anything from this house” and when he and Blackie burn Old Misery’s savings, it is a “celebration” (118) of their newly acquired power over those “things.” The boys set the money on fire just to watch it burn, and for each bill, to celebrate the freedom that comes with their disassociation from a dependent relationship on things.
The story ends as a lorry driver and Old Misery look upon the ruined pile of rubble that was formerly a house, and the lorry driver, who had unwittingly applied the last impetus that toppled the house, laughs. The fact that he is amused by the destruction, says “there’s nothing personal, but you got to admit it’s funny” (124) to Old Misery, shows that he can appreciate the destruction of the house as an aesthetic event, without any other attachment to either the house or Old Misery’s ownership of the house. T., who had gained a temporary freedom from his dependence on things through his creative act of destruction, would have expected his work to be appreciated in just that light manner. T.’s actions, which could have appeared cruelly motivated, were actually a stand against whatever would keep him down. Greene’s story shows it is only through creativity and art that we might transcend our circumstances.
Works Cited
Greene, Graham. “The Destructors.” Perrine’s Literature: Structure, Sound and Sense, 10th Edition. Ed. Thomas R. Arp, et al. Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2009. 111-125.
Alice Munro’s “How I Met My Husband”: The Many Lives We Could Live by Katie Pauls
In Alice Munro’s “How I Met My Husband” life’s lessons, setbacks and successes all come together in one summer when Edie, the main character, begins her quest to find herself. At the ripe age of fifteen, she is constantly influenced by the world around her, even more so since she is away from home for the first time. Edie comes from a farm life, and does not seem to have much of a future ahead of her. She did not do well in high school, and her grades and her father decide that it was not for her. That is not to say she is not intelligent, though. She continuously demonstrates throughout the story that she grasps the major concepts of life, sometimes even better than her employers. For instance, she can tell the difference between “country folk” and “non-country folk.” She works as the “hired-girl” in the Peebles residence, and finds her new surroundings impressive. The Peebles home draws a striking contrast to and her family's farm. With the exposure to other worlds, she broadens her horizons, and ultimately “tries on” different lives as she searches for herself.
Edie’s quest begins the summer she takes the job at the Peebles’ home. “It was just when the trend was starting of town people buying up old farms, not to work them but to live on them” (125). To Edie this way of life is exotic and full of luxury—she is amazed by the automatic washer and dryer and the décor of the bathroom (127, 128). She knows she could enjoy living that way, without the hassle of “barn work” (127). Yet though she experiences wonderment at the Peebles’ home, Edie recognizes her upbringing and does not shy away from it. Edie constantly refers back to her mother and the manner in which things were done on the farm. For example, her mother would say, “have a house without a pie, be ashamed until you die,” but according to Edie Mrs. Peebles “operated differently” (126). Edie knows the significance of hard work in a person’s life and does not look down on it.
Even though Edie distinguishes the difference between herself and Mrs. Peebles, she cannot resist the temptation to live as the Peebles’ do. As Mrs. Peebles and her children leave Edie alone for an afternoon, she grabs the golden opportunity. She takes the dress that she has been “hungering to see the rest” of from Mrs. Peebles’s closet (128). “Next thing was easy. I got out of my own things and slipped it on” (128). At this moment, Edie begins experimenting, trying to find her niche in life. She sheds the old Edie as she does her clothes and tries on a new Edie. From the moment the satin dress she situates and admires herself, Edie becomes swept up in the possibilities and opportunities that come with the elegance and luxury of the Peebles’ life. She piles her hair up on her head “to get the effect” then applies Mrs. Peebles’s makeup (128). She metamorphoses into a more sophisticated Edie. Caught up in the identity, she goes downstairs to refresh herself with some ice and ginger ale, as the Peebleses would have done (129). The pretense of another life might have continued for a while longer had Chris Watters not startled her out of her reverie.
After the crash of reality brought upon her by Chris’s request for water, Edie realizes that Mrs. Peebles’s life is not for her and quietly returns to her hired-girl regime. She puts the dress back and finishes her chores, and ashamed for being caught in the act, goes to Chris to ask him not to tell on her. Until the arrival of Alice Kelling, there is no other introduction of a female character in the story, save for one, the loathsome bother, Loretta Bird. Yet Edie does not take any interest in Loretta’s life. From the beginning of the story, it is obvious that Edie places herself above Loretta, and therefore feels no temptation to pursue that possibility. Throughout the story Edie steadfastly reminds the reader that the Peebleses cannot tell the difference between real country folk, like herself, and the pretenders, such as Loretta Bird.
Alice Kelling’s life, on the other hand, does represent success. “[Y]ou could tell from how she talked she was from the city, or educated, or both” (133). Like Mrs. Peebles, Alice Kelling lives a life apart from the one Edie has grown up with. Alice has attended and finished school, something that Edie did not manage to accomplish. She exudes different possibilities, as well, especially with the announcement that she is Chris’s fiancée (133). The fact that Alice is chasing after him, a man who peppered even Edie with handsome compliments, speaks for his character. By baking the crumb cake and taking it to Chris, Edie enters the world of Alice Kelling. Before heading out to see him, she hesitates and cleans herself up, but decides to go sans makeup for fear that it will remind him of the dress incident—the time when she was someone else. Chris responds by giving her just a small taste of what he could offer her in her new role as the Alice character. Like Alice, she too is oblivious to his painfully obvious hints that he will not commit himself to just her. Edie as Alice wants the elusive pilot and will faithfully wait for him to be hers, and her life quickly gives way to a routine of traveling, waiting and finding disappointment. The only difference is that Edie travels as far as the mailbox to greet her disillusionment.
Expectation slowly fades as it dawns on her that a letter will never find its way to the Peebles’ home. Edie becomes the tired-looking Alice Kelling she sees when Alice first arrives, “[n]othing in the least pretty or even young-looking about her” (133). She comprehends all too slowly that Alice’s life is not as glamorous as it once looked; that going after the mysterious and ever elusive pilot is not in the least bit worthwhile. “Till it came to me one day there were women doing this with their lives, all over” (140). The sad insight that she will continue the habit of venturing to the mailbox unsettles her and she tells herself she “was never made to go on like that (140). And so she rejects Alice Kelling’s life.
But, if she is not suited to be a Mrs. Peebles or an Alice Kelling, then who is she? Edie wants to be successful; she wants to know that she means something to someone. She does not want to have the label of the “hired-girl” all her life. Edie believes there are two kinds of women: those who wait all their life and those who do not (140). Edie declares herself the second kind, and she will no longer wait passively for or chase after any man or success. Carmichael, the mailman, proves himself worthy by seeking her out. Because he is the opposite of Chris Watters, she accepts his attentions and they are eventually married with children and live in a house with all the novelties she once admired. By the end of the story, Edie finally settles on the life that is right for her. She has crossed over from a lost teenager to a young lady on her journey toward adulthood. But she would not have discovered who she was had she not lived through that summer on her own, as an impressionable girl of fifteen watching and measuring the lives of the women around her.
Works Cited
Munro, Alice. "How I Met My Husband." Perrine's Literature : Structure, Sound, and Sense. By Thomas R. Arp and Greg Johnson. Boston: Heinle, 2008. 125-140.
Edie’s quest begins the summer she takes the job at the Peebles’ home. “It was just when the trend was starting of town people buying up old farms, not to work them but to live on them” (125). To Edie this way of life is exotic and full of luxury—she is amazed by the automatic washer and dryer and the décor of the bathroom (127, 128). She knows she could enjoy living that way, without the hassle of “barn work” (127). Yet though she experiences wonderment at the Peebles’ home, Edie recognizes her upbringing and does not shy away from it. Edie constantly refers back to her mother and the manner in which things were done on the farm. For example, her mother would say, “have a house without a pie, be ashamed until you die,” but according to Edie Mrs. Peebles “operated differently” (126). Edie knows the significance of hard work in a person’s life and does not look down on it.
Even though Edie distinguishes the difference between herself and Mrs. Peebles, she cannot resist the temptation to live as the Peebles’ do. As Mrs. Peebles and her children leave Edie alone for an afternoon, she grabs the golden opportunity. She takes the dress that she has been “hungering to see the rest” of from Mrs. Peebles’s closet (128). “Next thing was easy. I got out of my own things and slipped it on” (128). At this moment, Edie begins experimenting, trying to find her niche in life. She sheds the old Edie as she does her clothes and tries on a new Edie. From the moment the satin dress she situates and admires herself, Edie becomes swept up in the possibilities and opportunities that come with the elegance and luxury of the Peebles’ life. She piles her hair up on her head “to get the effect” then applies Mrs. Peebles’s makeup (128). She metamorphoses into a more sophisticated Edie. Caught up in the identity, she goes downstairs to refresh herself with some ice and ginger ale, as the Peebleses would have done (129). The pretense of another life might have continued for a while longer had Chris Watters not startled her out of her reverie.
After the crash of reality brought upon her by Chris’s request for water, Edie realizes that Mrs. Peebles’s life is not for her and quietly returns to her hired-girl regime. She puts the dress back and finishes her chores, and ashamed for being caught in the act, goes to Chris to ask him not to tell on her. Until the arrival of Alice Kelling, there is no other introduction of a female character in the story, save for one, the loathsome bother, Loretta Bird. Yet Edie does not take any interest in Loretta’s life. From the beginning of the story, it is obvious that Edie places herself above Loretta, and therefore feels no temptation to pursue that possibility. Throughout the story Edie steadfastly reminds the reader that the Peebleses cannot tell the difference between real country folk, like herself, and the pretenders, such as Loretta Bird.
Alice Kelling’s life, on the other hand, does represent success. “[Y]ou could tell from how she talked she was from the city, or educated, or both” (133). Like Mrs. Peebles, Alice Kelling lives a life apart from the one Edie has grown up with. Alice has attended and finished school, something that Edie did not manage to accomplish. She exudes different possibilities, as well, especially with the announcement that she is Chris’s fiancée (133). The fact that Alice is chasing after him, a man who peppered even Edie with handsome compliments, speaks for his character. By baking the crumb cake and taking it to Chris, Edie enters the world of Alice Kelling. Before heading out to see him, she hesitates and cleans herself up, but decides to go sans makeup for fear that it will remind him of the dress incident—the time when she was someone else. Chris responds by giving her just a small taste of what he could offer her in her new role as the Alice character. Like Alice, she too is oblivious to his painfully obvious hints that he will not commit himself to just her. Edie as Alice wants the elusive pilot and will faithfully wait for him to be hers, and her life quickly gives way to a routine of traveling, waiting and finding disappointment. The only difference is that Edie travels as far as the mailbox to greet her disillusionment.
Expectation slowly fades as it dawns on her that a letter will never find its way to the Peebles’ home. Edie becomes the tired-looking Alice Kelling she sees when Alice first arrives, “[n]othing in the least pretty or even young-looking about her” (133). She comprehends all too slowly that Alice’s life is not as glamorous as it once looked; that going after the mysterious and ever elusive pilot is not in the least bit worthwhile. “Till it came to me one day there were women doing this with their lives, all over” (140). The sad insight that she will continue the habit of venturing to the mailbox unsettles her and she tells herself she “was never made to go on like that (140). And so she rejects Alice Kelling’s life.
But, if she is not suited to be a Mrs. Peebles or an Alice Kelling, then who is she? Edie wants to be successful; she wants to know that she means something to someone. She does not want to have the label of the “hired-girl” all her life. Edie believes there are two kinds of women: those who wait all their life and those who do not (140). Edie declares herself the second kind, and she will no longer wait passively for or chase after any man or success. Carmichael, the mailman, proves himself worthy by seeking her out. Because he is the opposite of Chris Watters, she accepts his attentions and they are eventually married with children and live in a house with all the novelties she once admired. By the end of the story, Edie finally settles on the life that is right for her. She has crossed over from a lost teenager to a young lady on her journey toward adulthood. But she would not have discovered who she was had she not lived through that summer on her own, as an impressionable girl of fifteen watching and measuring the lives of the women around her.
Works Cited
Munro, Alice. "How I Met My Husband." Perrine's Literature : Structure, Sound, and Sense. By Thomas R. Arp and Greg Johnson. Boston: Heinle, 2008. 125-140.
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