Matric Life

Terms you must be familiar with:

Theme
Intention
Style
Diction
Tone
Mood
Form
Rhythm
Rhyme
Imagery
Symbolism

Theme:

It is the subject, central idea or underlying thought. It is sometimes also equated with the meaning or sense of piece of writing.

Intention:

The reason or motive the poet had for writing his poem.

The poet may want:

to persuade
to defend,
to express hatred / scorn
to protest,
to praise,
to argue,
to express love,
to flatter,
to warn,
to criticise,
to evoke sympathy,
to enrage,
to mock,
to incite, etc.

Style:

It is the manner in which a poet or writer expresses himself, his distinctive traits or the individual manner in which he uses the language at his disposal. It includes many aspects but sometimes it helps to look at the period in which the poem or work was written to determine the poet’s style. Sometimes it is useful to sum up a poet’s style in a word or two:

colloquial,

conversational,

emotive,

factual,

humorous,

idiomatic,

sensational,

succinct,

terse,

technical,

clichéd, etc.

Diction:

This refers to the poet’s vocabulary or choice of words. The choice of words and the order thereof, is intention to suit the poet’s purpose. Remember that words do not always have a fixed meaning: their exact meaning depends of their context. The sound of words may be important as well. Every word used by poet must be seen as a way to enhance his intention.

Tone:

It is the poet’s attitude towards his subject and towards his readers. The tone can only be determined once one has examined the poem thoroughly. The tone may also vary within a poem.

Examples of tone:

sincere,
humorous,
forceful,
critical,
sarcastic,
ironical,
loving,
sentimental,
joyful,
melancholy,
bitter,
mocking, etc.

Mood:

Mood or feeling is a term used to refer to the atmosphere the poet creates within his particular work. It is related to the tone and in some ways mood may also be said to reflect the poet’s attitude towards his subject matter.

FORM: or structure and it may be rigid and prescribed or loose and undefined.

BALLAD:

Most ballads started as songs passed on from one generation to the next.

Characteristics:

fast moving story,
rhythm is pronounced
rhyme pattern (usually rhyming couplets or alternate rhymes) and
metre is usually iambic. Poems in short stanzas narrating popular story without rhyme pattern or unpronounced rhythm, is narrative poetry.

Entertains the readers by telling a dramatic story.

METRE:

Poetic rhythm determined by character and number of feet.

IAMBIC: unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable.

TROCHIAC: stressed syllable followed by an unstressed syllable.

ODE:

Poem often in the form of an address and in exalted style, in praise of something/one. It is exalted in both feelings and expression, written in rhymed stanzas.

Expresses the speaker’s admiration.

ELEGY:

Song of lamentation or morning that honours someone /thing that has died. Subject matter is treated in a suitable serious fashion. The tone is sad and mournful with a slow rhythm.

Expresses the speaker’s sorrow.

LYRIC POETRY:

Originates also in songs. It is much more emotive that usually conveys feelings. It is typically a short poem that deals with a single theme or idea.

Expresses the speaker’s feelings.

AN ALLEGORY

It is the representation of abstract ideas or principles by characters. Once again the allegory makes use of the story form, and it is long, but it either has a religious theme or it contains a moral warning, or offers advice to the reader, e.g. “Animal Farm”

Rhythm:

Rhythm is the follow of words or ‘beat’ in a poem. It is the repetition or recurrence of stress. Metre is the term used to describe the measurement of regular rhythm.

The function of rhythm is to emphasise or endorse the meaning of the words in a poem. It can also help create a particular mood or atmosphere, convey a particular theme or set a particular pace.

Rhyme:

It is the repetition of similar sounds.

a) End rhyme: rhyme occurs at the end of lines of verse. (time; crime)

b) Half rhyme: words do not fully rhyme but there is a similarity in sound. (work; pitchfork)

c) Internal rhyme: a word in the middle of the verse line, rhymes with the word at the end of the verse line. (“In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,)

Imagery:

It is the use of word pictures or images that usually appeal to our senses but they may also appeal to the heart or the mind.

Figures of speech:

Words, phrases or expressions used in a manner other than their literal meaning in order to produce a special effect. It is important to know how figures of speech work

POETIC DEVICES & FIGURES OF SPEECH	FUNCTION / EFFECT (N.B.)
METONYMY: Substitution of the name of something for that of the thing meant, e.g. “And ploughs down palaces, and thrones, and towers.”	It may serve to emphasize a certain aspect of the person or object concerned.
SYNECDOCHE: A part is named but the whole is meant/ understood, OR the whole is named but only part is meant/understood, e.g. “ … his back to the five thin healthy head grazing.”	It may serve to emphasize the aspect which is selected, but often it is just a case of common usage.
HYPERBOLE: Exaggerated statement. Not meant to be taken literally,	It expresses intense emotion and emphasizes the fact stated.
LITOTES: Ironical understatement, esp. expressing an affirmative by the negative of its contrary.	It emphasizes the statement.

Other useful terminology

RHETORICAL QUESTION:

Asked not for information but to produce effect.

It emphasizes the fact stated. It draws attention to the statement and makes the reader stop and think.

APOSTROPHE:

The poet addresses an inanimate object, or an absent person.

It creates a sense of immediacy; it makes the person or object addressed seem closer and more real.

When an inanimate object is addressed it is, of course, personified.

PATHOS:

Quality in writing that excites pity or sadness.

Excites pity or sadness.

ENJAMBMENT:

Continuation of sentence beyond end of line, e.g. “His state Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed And post o’er land and ocean without rest:..”

It suggests continuation, so strengthens the meaning of lines which state that something is going on without stopping; it creates a fluent movement or helps create a restful mood; Sometimes it emphasizes the last word of one line and the first word of the next line if the end of the first line occurs at an unusual position.

INVERSION:

Reversal of normal, grammatical order of words, e.g. “How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea Whose action is no stronger than a flower, …”

It may create a jerky rhythm suggesting restlessness, intense emotion, etc; it often serves to lift out certain words by placing them at the beginning or end of a line, or sentence, in an unusual position.

SATIRE:

Ridiculing prevalent vices or follies e.g. “Tis with our judgments as our watches, none Go just alike, yet each believes his own.”

Causes amusement/makes fun of people/ shows things or people up as fools/influences the reader’s response.

DRAMATIC IRONY:

The audience/reader is aware of a fact which the speaker is unaware of. This gives the speaker’s words a double meaning.

It creates tension and links characters, events or themes.

UNDERSTATEMENT:

Represents something as less than it really is: After the floods, when things were carried away by the water, we say “We’ve had some rain.”

CLIMAX:

Event or point of greatest intensity or interest.

ANTI-CLIMAX:

Ineffective end to anything that has a suggested climax.

Creates a let-down feeling, suggests a feeling of disappointment / dissatisfaction.

ALLUSION:

Reference to a specific person, place, event or literary work in the course of a poem.

ELISION:

Letter(s) left out to intensify the rhythm.

EPIGRAM:

It is a short, concise statement but has a deeper meaning

Creates the atmosphere before a poem.

Figures of speech based on comparison or resemblance.

PERSONIFICATION:

Attribute human qualities to thing or quality.

It makes the scene more vivid or the action more forceful.

SIMILE:

Comparison between two things, using like or as.

Makes the picture more vivid and helps to convey more accurately how the writer experienced a sensation.

METAPHOR:

Calling something by a name to an object/person which is not literally applicable to it.

Makes the writer’s experience clearer and more vivid and conveys a depth of meaning by calling up numerous associations in the mind of the reader.

Makes the description more compact.

Figures of speech based on contrast or differences

PUN:

Uses the double meaning of a word or phrase for suggestive and humorous purposes.

PARADOX:

A statement which is self-contradictory but which contains some truth. “One has to be cruel to be kind.”

Punishing a child who plays with the electric socket may seem cruel, but is kind, because if you don’t he/she may be electrocuted.

OXYMORON:

A paradox contained in two words: “rotten beauty”.

A beautiful girl with low morals is outwardly beautiful, but inside she is rotten.

ANTITHESIS:

Opposites are contrasted or balanced in two clauses or phrases. “The years to come seemed waste of breath A waste of breath the years beyond.” (N.B. Antithesis contains no contradiction or seeming contradiction, it is merely opposites/ contrasts)

SARCASM:

Bitter or wounding remark, ironically worded taunt.

Expresses feelings, serves to reveal the speaker’s attitudes or feelings towards the person meant/addressed.

IRONY:

Expression of meaning by language of opposite or different tendency.

It expresses the speaker’s feelings and attitude towards the person/thing he is discussing. It is usually used to create humour.

INNUENDO:

When something is hinted at without actually saying it.

Sound devices:

The following are not strictly figures of speech, although they are often classified as such. It is where the sound of words is just as significant as the meaning of the words.

ALLITERATION:

Repetition of beginning consonant sounds, at short intervals, of different words, e.g. “ … my dongas and my ever-whirling dust, My death …”

Links important words and emphasizes them. Imitates sounds mentioned in the poem. Influences the rhythm, either slowing down the tempo, or increasing it, depending on whether the words are long or short and whether the sounds are clipped or drawn-out.

ASSONANCE:

Repetition of vowel sounds in two or more words, without the repetition of the same consonant, e.g. “And all is seared with trade, bleared, smeared with toil. …”

Creates vivid aural images by imitating the sounds of objects mentioned in the poem.

ONOMATOPOEIA:

Forming words from sounds that resemble those associated with the object or suggestive of its qualities, e.g. “The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard …..”

Imitates the sounds referred to. Helps to create a vivid aural picture and make the scene more immediate and real to the reader.

Symbolism:

A symbol is any word or object which represents or suggests an idea.

Hints for analysing a poem:

Regard every poem as a masterpiece! Instead of finding fault, look for positive aspects.
Keep an open mind and allow yourself to be influenced by the poet’s voice.
Read a poem at least three times before analysing it in depth.
It is the WHOLE poem that counts. Begin with the poem as a whole, move to its individual parts, then return to the poem as a whole again.

Useful method of analysing a poem: (there are other ways as well)

Read the poem a number of times, aloud, if possible.
Ask yourself what the poet is saying to the reader. Try to identify the subject and the theme.
Consider what the poet’s intention was when writing the particular poem.
Analyse carefully the poet’s diction. Ask yourself what type of language and style has been used. Look up any words you do not know/understand.
Establish what feelings the poet evokes in the reader and then assess the mood of the poem.
Look at the form of the poem as part of the poet’s method of getting his message across.
See what poetic devices (rhyme, rhythm, figures of speech, sound devices) the poet has used. Analyse them individually and assess what they contribute to the success of the poem.
Identify any other outstanding or unusual features.
Decide whether the poet has succeeded in is aim.

Poetry literary essay:

This essay will be a shorter version. The structure of this literary essay is exactly the same as a prose literary essay.

REMEMBER:

Write in the third (objective) person.
Write in the present tense. (you are analysing the set work today)
Every argument MUST be supported from the poem.
Introduction and conclusion paragraph briefly rephrases question to show your point of view. (do you agree or not)
Create a mind-map that contains the key aspects of the question. Under each aspect, identify examples from the poem to support aspect.
Do not pass judgement (good/bad poem), only state whether the poet was successful as stated in question.
Do not just retell what the poem is about or the historic background thereof, stick to the question.
Incorporate your knowledge of poetic devices. (so learn them and know them well!!!!)
Write in paragraphs and logically.
Stick to the word count, so avoid repetition and unnecessary examples.

Thou ill-formed offspring of my feeble brain,
Who after birth did'st by my side remain,
Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true,
Who thee abroad exposed to public view,
Made thee in rags, halting to th' press to trudge,
Where errors were not lessened (all may judge).
At thy return my blushing was not small,
My rambling brat (in print) should mother call.
I cast thee by as one unfit for light,
The visage was so irksome in my sight,
Yet being mine own, at length affection would
Thy blemishes amend, if so I could.
I washed thy face, but more defects I saw,
And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw.
I stretcht thy joints to make thee even feet,
Yet still thou run'st more hobbling than is meet.
In better dress to trim thee was my mind,
But nought save home-spun cloth, i' th' house I find.
In this array, 'mongst vulgars may'st thou roam.
In critic's hands, beware thou dost not come,
And take thy way where yet thou art not known.
If for thy father askt, say, thou hadst none;
And for thy mother, she alas is poor,
Which caused her thus to send thee out of door.

Lines 1-2

Thou ill-formed offspring of my feeble brain, Who after birth did'st by my side remain,

The poem opens with an apostrophe. No, no, we don’t mean the punctuation mark, but a direct form of address, as in “oh, Christmas tree,” or, as here, “thou ill-formed offspring.” So, this is a poem that is addressed to something. Now even though we get the word “offspring,” this poem is not about the speaker’s child. Well, it’s not about a human child, but rather an intellectual or artistic child: the book that this poem, presumably, introduces and is about. The poem is the speaker’s address to her book (and we’re just assuming it’s a she), which she describes in these first lines as the “ill-formed” product of her “feeble brain.” Sheesh, enough self-deprecation isn’t there? Yeah, definitely. The speaker seems to have some confidence issues about her writing. However, this whole “my work is garbage and my brain isn’t good enough” business also used to be something of a convention, especially among young authors. You weren’t supposed to be like, “thou incredible, awesome offspring of my genius,” after all. That would be arrogant, especially for a new poet or artist. It would be like a rookie athlete boasting about how awesome he was before ever proving himself. Anyway, the speaker uses a metaphor and compares her book to a child that she gave birth to and that, after being born, remained by her side. Note that these first two lines aren’t a complete sentence, only part of a longer sentence. (Don’t worry, we’ll get to it in a minute.) Basically, this is all set-up, a description of the book about which we will surely learn more very soon. As in… right now.

Lines 3-4

Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true, Who thee abroad exposed to public view,

Aha. So the speaker gave birth to a book of poems—this is a metaphor for “wrote” a book of poems. This book remained by her side until her friends snatched it from there (“thence”). As a result, the speaker describes those same friends as “less wise than true.” A puzzling little phrase, this seems to mean they acted stupidly (“less wise”) but they did it because they were trying to help her—trying to be “true” friends. Anyway, her pals took this book, and then took it “abroad” and “exposed” it to “public view.” Now, we know it sounds like the speaker means they took the book out in public somewhere and held it up for everybody to see, but this isn’t really what she means. Only, it sort of is. She means that they took it abroad and had it published, which is exactly what happened with Bradstreet’s first book, The Tenth Muse. She wasn’t planning on publishing all the poems that make up that volume, but, thankfully, her brother-in-law snatched the book without her knowledge and had it published in England in 1650. Now, did you notice how “who” and “thee” are right next to each other in the line? In normal speech, we would probably say “who exposed thee abroad to public view” or “exposed thee to public view abroad.” Putting the object of the verb “exposed” (“thee”) before the verb is a, well, very poetic way of speaking. It also, however, shows that there is a very close relationship between the book (“thee”) and the friends. Finally, so far every group of two lines rhyme, and this will continue for the whole poem. In other words, we have a poem composed entirely in heroic couplets of iambic pentameter. Huh? Check out “Form and Meter” for more on that stuff.

Lines 5-6

Made thee in rags, halting to th' press to trudge, Where errors were not lessened (all may judge).

Well, apparently the speaker isn’t done talking about her little book’s journey “abroad.” Her friends also made the book “trudge” to the “press” (i.e., the printing press, where the book would have been printed and bound) in “rags.” Okay, obviously the speaker is being very figurative here. The book wasn’t actually trudging or wearing rags. The personification here (trudging, rags) is meant to make the book seem like a piece of junk. It’s not dressed up all nice and neat, but wearing rags. It’s not in great shape either, which is why it is trudging (and not, say, walking erect and stately). The point the speaker is making is that her book wasn’t ready to be printed yet, or it wasn’t up to her standard. It would be like somebody taking a rough draft of your blog entry and posting it on Facebook. Normally, you would think errors and things like that would be emended at the publishing house. Well that wasn’t the case with this book; at the “press,” the “errors” were not lessened, as all who read the book may judge. Well sheesh, these don’t sound like very nice friends after all.

Lines 7-8

At thy return my blushing was not small, My rambling brat (in print) should mother call.

Now it seems this little book was eventually returned to the speaker, who blushed quite a bit when she saw it. (Her “blushing was not small,” which is an understated way of saying she blushed a lot.) She probably blushed because this book came back in the form of an actual, bound, published book—not just as a bunch of pages stapled together or something. Actually, her blushing might also stem from the fact that her name is now in print. That seems to be the gist of line 8. There, the book is referred to as a “rambling brat” (compare this to the first line’s “ill-formed offspring”) that now, in print, calls her (the author), “mother.” In other words, this collection of crappy, ill-formed, rambling poems now publicly declares in print that its mother is none other than Anne Bradstreet. As in the first few lines of the poem, we are struck by the extreme degree of self-deprecation. Take it easy, Anne, the poems aren’t that bad.

Lines 9-10

I cast thee by as one unfit for light, The visage was so irksome in my sight,

Here we get more trash-talking. This time, the “rambling brat” of a book is cast aside by the speaker because it is “unfit for light” (i.e., an abomination, a monster, something that needs to be hidden in the attic). This book is “unfit for light” because its “visage,” or appearance (or face, or countenance, or what have you) was unbelievably “irksome” to the speaker. Note: the book isn’t not actually a monster or a person with an actual “visage,” just as it is not actually a brat (like that screaming kid you saw at Walmart earlier). The speaker keeps personifying her book, probably to make it seem like a much uglier, trashier piece of junk than it really is.

Lines 11-12

Yet being mine own, at length affection would Thy blemishes amend, if so I could.

Oh wait a second now, it looks like things are starting to change just a bit. In the same breath, the speaker now says, essentially, “well you’re a brat, and irksome, but you’re mine” (“yet being mine own”). Since this book is hers, the speaker says, if it were possible she would eventually (“at length”) at least try to “amend” its blemishes (faults, mistakes, errors, its irksomeness or ill-formed-ness) out of some sense of affection. Okay, technically “affection” would amend the blemishes, not the speaker. But this is essentially the same thing. It is merely a way of emphasizing that “affection” for one’s own “children” sometimes makes us do things. Of course, the implication here is that the speaker is unable, or will be unable, to “amend” the faults of her ill-formed, irksome child of a book. Well three cheers for the positive attitude, anyway.

Lines 13-14

I washed thy face, but more defects I saw, And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw.

Whoops, looks like we spoke too soon. The speaker washed her child’s face, but all that did was reveal more “defects.” Then she tried “rubbing off a spot,” and that just made another “flaw”—it made things worse. We’ve told you at least three times, but that doesn’t mean we can’t tell you again: the speaker is talking about a book, which means she isn’t literally doing this. The washing and the rubbing are metaphors for various forms of editing and rewriting. The book is personified as a child that is dirty and gross. Unfortunately, there’s no cleaning up or fixing this child, at least not according to the speaker. Wait now, isn’t it just a matter of washing the dirt off a kid’s face? Eh, it’s more complicated than that. Have you ever tried to revise or rewrite an essay only to end up with something that looks worse? Or have you started editing your paper only to discover that there are way more problems than you thought? Yeah, that’s kind of how the speaker feels about her little book. Next time your teacher asks you to do a revision, just say you’re worried you’ll make it worse. (P.S. Don’t actually do that; you might get in trouble.)

Lines 15-16

I stretcht thy joints to make thee even feet, Yet still thou run'st more hobbling than is meet.

The speaker continues to describe a metaphorical cleaning up or fixing of her book. This time, she says she “stretcht” the book’s “joints” in order to give it “even feet.” Despite her best efforts, however, the book “yet still” runs (“runst”) with a really bad hobble that just isn’t appropriate or fitting (“meet”). Okay, these lines need some ‘splaining, don’t they? First, this whole bit about “stretching” the book’s joints seems kind of violent. In a way, it kind of is. Something about it just reminds us of the rack, you know that old medieval torture device on which victims were “stretcht”? Rest assured, even though Bradstreet wrote this poem in the seventeenth century, she definitely was not talking about this. So what was she talking about then? Well, for starters, recall that the word “feet” here undoubtedly refers to poetic feet. Oh, so poems have little feet and can walk? Um, no. A “foot” is a term used to refer to a unit, or division, or beat, of a line of poetry. (Check out “Form and Meter” for more.) The implication is that the poems in the speaker’s book are imperfect, disjointed, not metrically even—perhaps some of the lines had 9 syllables, instead of, say, an even ten. The speaker claims to have stretched the lines—added syllables here and there—to make the poems more acceptable, more well-rounded. Now, even though the speaker really worked at fixing all the “feet” by stretching the book’s metaphorical joints (the book does not have real joints, remember), that wasn’t enough. For some reason, the poems in the book still seemed to “hobble,” which here is a metaphor for the way in which, to the speaker’s mind, the poems didn’t flow smoothly. Instead of nice, smooth, iambic pentameter lines, the speaker thinks the poems in her book just sounded off, hit or miss, stop and go, etc. Ironically, folks, these lines are, metrically speaking, pretty darn neat (“even”). Maybe Bradstreet isn’t as bad a poet as she keeps claiming here—just a thought.

Lines 17-18

In better dress to trim thee was my mind, But nought save home-spun cloth, i' th' house I find.
We get more metaphorical descriptions of the editing process here. This time, it’s not stretching or washing, but dressing and clothing that are the metaphors. “Trim” means something like “decorate” or “adorn,” so the speaker says it was her “mind” (i.e., her intention) to outfit the poems in “better dress.” Unfortunately, she couldn’t find anything (“nought”) in the house except “home-spun cloth.” So, the speaker wanted to dress her book up in some fine lace and silk, but could only find some basic, homemade cloth. (This recalls the “rags” of line 5, by the way.) She wanted to make the poems look a lot nicer, a lot prettier, but she just didn’t have the means to do it. The “home-spun cloth” here seems to be a metaphor for the speaker’s talents or abilities when it comes to writing poetry, the “house” a metaphor for wherever such talents are lodged (in her brain, perhaps?). As with much of the rest of this poem, the speaker is beyond negative. She basically flat out says “I’m no good at writing poetry. I can’t find the right word. I can’t fix all the problems in here,” etc., etc.

Lines 19-21

In this array, 'mongst vulgars may'st thou roam. In critic's hands, beware thou dost not come, And take thy way where yet thou art not known.

The book looks really bad. We are again reminded of the “rags” of line 5, and the “home-spun cloth” of line 18. The speaker says the book’s “array,” or appearance, is so bad that it is best for it to “roam” or wander or make its away among “vulgars.” “Vulgar” here doesn’t really mean “obscene” or “gross,” but rather poor and uneducated—the lower classes, if you will. The book is junk, and will be totally at home with the junk of the social spectrum. It (the book) should be careful (“beware”) not to come into “critic’s [critics'] hands,” where it (again, the book) is not yet known. In other words, the book is no good. Remember, it is the “ill-formed” product of an obscure, unknown writer—well, unknown to the critics anyway. And those same critics (i.e., the reviewers) are sure to judge this unknown production very harshly. Hmm. Well, that might explain why the speaker is so adamant about keeping this grungy book away from those potentially cruel fellows. Interestingly, the speaker really gives the book a life of its own here. Somehow the book will be able to makes its way among the vulgar, or the critics, as it so chooses. Yes, once again we have personification. But why? Well, if the book has a life of its own, the author isn’t really responsible now is she? That’s one idea at least. Let’s read on…

Lines 22-24

If for thy father askt, say, thou hadst none; And for thy mother, she alas is poor, Which caused her thus to send thee out of door.

If asked about its father, the speaker instructs her book to say that it “hadst none.” If asked about its mother, well she’s poor, and that’s what “caused her” to send the book out the door. Well, this is weird. The book has no father, only a single mother who was so poor that she forced her child out. And she didn’t just force it out. She forced her out by selling her (she was poor, remember). Now hold on just a sec before you get all worked up and accuse this poet of being a human trafficker. This whole selling business refers to a book, not an actual child (child, you will recall, is a metaphor for the speaker’s book). Nonetheless, this all seems very mercenary and contradictory. For pretty much all the poem the speaker has been complaining about how bad the book is, how it shouldn’t be published. She even blamed everything, at the beginning of the poem, on her friends! Now, all of a sudden, she’s kind of acting like she sent the book out to be published because she needed money. So why this change of heart? Perhaps the whole process of writing this little dedicatory poem has made the speaker realize that her poems aren’t really that bad after all. Then again, maybe she doesn’t want anybody else to take credit for getting the poems published. We have no way of knowing the real answer. This business about taking credit goes hand in hand with all that stuff about the book having no father. Yeah, what’s with that anyway? Is the book’s father not in the picture anymore, or what? Well, like so much of this poem, this too is a metaphor—for the fact that the speaker wrote this whole book all by herself. In other words, she “gave birth” (we’re being metaphorical now) to a book, without any male intervention. Weird, weird, weird. Who does anything without at least some help? This is also bold, though, even more so when you consider that it sort of echoes women’s rights… in the seventeenth century. Wait, how’s that? Well, think about it. The speaker is a woman—a mother—who is claiming to have written this big ol’ book of poems without the help of any dudes. In other words, it’s like saying “Even though I’m a woman, I’m just as smart as any man and can write good, smart poems just as well.” If you’ve already read our “In a Nutshell” section, you’ll recall that the title of the book (The Tenth Muse) referred to in the poem (and which in its second edition contained the poem) is similarly bold. If you haven’t read our “In a Nutshell,” here’s the nutshell, in a nutshell: In Greek and Roman mythology, there were traditionally nine muses—deities of sorts that inspired art of all kinds. You can read all about them here. The author of The Tenth Muse suggests that her book is the newest member of this distinguished “ennead” (that’s a fancy word for a group of nine things). She’s implying that she, a female poet, is a powerful, inspirational figure, living across the Atlantic in the United States of America (instead of somewhere in Greece, where the muses traditionally lived). To summarize: the speaker makes a bold move in “The Author to Her Book,” and in the title of the whole collection, yet does so while apologizing (at least on the surface) for her poor work.

The poet begins by comparing the love between his beloved and himself with the passing away of virtuous men. Such men expire so peacefully that their friends cannot determine when they are truly dead. Likewise, his beloved should let the two of them depart in peace, not revealing their love to “the laity.”

Earthquakes bring harm and fear about the meaning of the rupture, but such fears should not affect his beloved because of the firm nature of their love. Other lovers become fearful when distance separates them—a much greater distance than the cracks in the earth after a quake—since for them, love is based on the physical presence or attractiveness of each other. Yet for the poet and his beloved, such a split is “innocent,” like the movements of the heavenly spheres, because their love transcends mere physicality.

Indeed, the separation merely adds to the distance covered by their love, like a sheet of gold, hammered so thin that it covers a huge area and gilds so much more than a love concentrated in one place ever could.

He finishes the poem with a longer comparison of himself and his wife to the two legs of a compass. They are joined at the top, and she is perfectly grounded at the center point. As he travels farther from the center, she leans toward him, and as he travels in his circles, she remains firm in the center, making his circles perfect.

Analysis

The first two of the nine abab stanzas of “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning” make up a single sentence, developing the simile of the passing of a virtuous man as compared to the love between the poet and his beloved. It is thought that Donne was in fact leaving for a long journey and wished to console and encourage his beloved wife by identifying the true strength of their bond. The point is that they are spiritually bound together regardless of the earthly distance between them.

He begins by stating that the virtuous man leaves life behind so delicately that even his friends cannot clearly tell the difference. Likewise, Donne forbids his wife from openly mourning the separation. For one thing, it is no real separation, like the difference between a breath and the absence of a breath. For another thing, mourning openly would be a profanation of their love, as the spiritual mystery of a sacrament can be diminished by revealing the details to “the laity” (line 8). Their love is sacred, so the depth of meaning in his wife’s tears would not be understood by those outside their marriage bond, who do not love so deeply. When Donne departs, observers should see no sign from Donne’s wife to suggest whether Donne is near or far because she will be so steadfast in her love for him and will go about her business all the same.

The third stanza suggests that the separation is like the innocent movement of the heavenly spheres, many of which revolve around the center. These huge movements, as the planets come nearer to and go farther from one another, are innocent and do not portend evil. How much less, then, would Donne’s absence portend. All of this is unlike the worldly fear that people have after an earthquake, trying to determine what the motions and cleavages mean.

In the fourth and fifth stanzas, Donne also compares their love to that of “sublunary” (earth-bound) lovers and finds the latter wanting. The love of others originates from physical proximity, where they can see each other’s attractiveness. When distance intervenes, their love wanes, but this is not so for Donne and his beloved, whose spiritual love, assured in each one’s “mind,” cannot be reduced by physical distance like the love of those who focus on “lips, and hands.”

The use of “refined” in the fifth stanza gives Donne a chance to use a metaphor involving gold, a precious metal that is refined through fire. In the sixth stanza, the separation is portrayed as actually a bonus because it extends the territory of their love, like gold being hammered into “aery thinness” without breaking (line 24). It thus can gild that much more territory.

The final three stanzas use an extended metaphor in which Donne compares the two individuals in the marriage to the two legs of a compass: though they each have their own purpose, they are inextricably linked at the joint or pivot at the top—that is, in their spiritual unity in God. Down on the paper—the earthly realm—one leg stays firm, just as Donne’s wife will remain steadfast in her love at home. Meanwhile the other leg describes a perfect circle around this unmoving center, so long as the center leg stays firmly grounded and does not stray. She will always lean in his direction, just like the center leg of the compass. So long as she does not stray, “Thy firmness makes my circle just, / And makes me end where I begun,” back at home (lines 35-36). They are a team, and so long as she is true to him, he will be able to return to exactly the point where they left off before his journey.

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,
Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
     I heard a Negro play.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
     He did a lazy sway . . .
     He did a lazy sway . . .
To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.
With his ebony hands on each ivory key
He made that poor piano moan with melody.
     O Blues!
Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool
He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.
     Sweet Blues!
Coming from a black man’s soul.
     O Blues!
In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone
I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan—
     “Ain’t got nobody in all this world,
       Ain’t got nobody but ma self.
       I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’
       And put ma troubles on the shelf.”

Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.
He played a few chords then he sang some more—
     “I got the Weary Blues
       And I can’t be satisfied.
       Got the Weary Blues
       And can’t be satisfied—
       I ain’t happy no mo’
       And I wish that I had died.”
And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.

Lines 1-2

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,

The speaker is leaving us in the dark here. Who is he? Where is he? Music is all there is, so far. Something or someone is "droning" music. Droning is that rumbling, low sound of a big engine. "Syncopated" is a musical term. It kind of means that the beat shifts the rhythm and creates a rocking back and forth feeling. And wouldn't you know it? Either the speaker or the singer is rocking "back and forth" now. Another word you might be new to is "croon." Crooning is this laid back and soulful style of singing. Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole, and Frank Sinatra were all crooners back in the day.

Line 3

I heard a Negro play.

The speaker is listening to an African American musician. We still don't know where we are, and we don't know what instrument the musician is playing. Take a note here: "Negro" was the politically correct term back in the 1920s. So the speaker is listening to some laid back music and his poetry is laid back to help us feel it too. The indent, or enjambment, makes you take time to pause as your eye moves from the end of the line above to this one.

Line 4-5

Down on Lenox Avenue the other night By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light

OK, we just jumped ahead in time. In the first three lines, we think we're there listening to the musician, but that was actually a couple of nights ago. Also, we just got a big tip into where speaker was that night: Lenox Avenue. Lenox Avenue shoots through the heart of Harlem in Manhattan, and it had the best bars and dance halls in the country around this time. Line 5 brings the reader back in by setting the mood with some soft lighting: gas lamps. "Pallor" isn't too different from "pale" or "dull." It suggests that the poor lighting of the scene is sucking some of the life out of the crowd.

Lines 6-8

He did a lazy sway.... He did a lazy sway.... To the tune o' those Weary Blues.

We've got those indents again. Take these lines slow and lazy. Repeating the lines gives a back and forth feeling, just like the singer is swaying back and forth. Also, this part is like a line that repeats in a blues song. This is similar to the refrain in a poem, but not exactly. Notice how Hughes dropped the "f" from the end of the word "of." He's trying to write like people talk. "The Weary Blues" is the name of the song that the musician is playing.

Lines 9-11

With his ebony hands on each ivory key He made that poor piano moan with melody. O Blues!

The musician is a pianist and he's playing all up and down the piano keyboard here. He's just wailing on the piano like Jimi Hendrix played guitar at Woodstock. "Ebony" means a few different things. Here it is describing the dark, lustrous color of the piano player's hands, but it also brings to mind the ebony wood that was used to make the black keys on a piano. Likewise, ivory (elephant's tusk) was used to make the white keys on the piano. It's almost like the piano player is melting into his instrument. In line 10, the musician makes the piano moan, just like it was alive with the music. It's not clear who is saying "O Blues!" It might be the speaker shouting out during the song, or the musician while performing for his audiences. Although this "O Blues!" is indented, it is not enjambment, because "O Blues!" doesn't carry the thought from the previous line.

Lines 12-14

Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool. Sweet Blues!

"To and fro" is the same thing as back and forth, but the speaker has already described the singer in that way. He's just keeping it fresh. The "rickety stool" tells us that the piano player has just about swayed his chair apart from rocking out night after night. Also, crummy furniture fits into the dive bar atmosphere. You might have heard of ragtime music; it's usually syncopated piano music and it gave birth to jazz. "Raggy tune" could mean ragtime style, but it also makes us think of rags. Blues music is all about being down and out; so the rags and rickety stool tie the whole scene together. The musical fool is like the court jester. Shakespeare had a soft spot for the singing fool that entertained people with his own sadness.

Lines 15-16

Coming from a black man's soul. O Blues!

This is where the politics of the poem become a little clearer. The music (a.k.a. the blues) isn't coming from the gut or the throat, but straight out of the musician's soul. Here "soul" doesn't exactly mean a person's spirit. It's more like the source of creative self-expression and emotion. As in, James Brown is the "godfather of soul."

Lines 17-18

In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan–

These two lines sum up what we already know. The song and the voice are both very sad, and the speaker of the poem heard the singer a few days ago. Again, in case we forgot, the singer is an African American, and the piano is moaning like a person. The phrase "deep song voice" runs all three words together in the same way that the speaker's description is merging the musician and the music into one thing.

Lines 19-22

"Ain't got nobody in all this world, Ain't got nobody but ma self. I's gwine to quit ma frownin' And put ma troubles on the shelf."

This is the musician is singing a verse of "The Weary Blues." It's a pretty typical blues song: the singer is lonely and there's no one to help him out. But! He is going to stop feeling sorry for himself and move on. The grammar and spelling are supposed to mimic the way a real bluesman would sing. This mimicry is called "dialect." The standard English version of line 21 is "I am going to stop frowning," but who talks like that? It's all about being genuine and showing the world that even "flaws" are beautiful.

Lines 23-24

Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor. He played a few chords then he sang some more–

The "[t]hump, thump, thump" is the piano player keeping the musical beat by stomping his foot on the ground. His whole body is getting into the music. Line 24 sums up one style of blues music, where the singer/musician plays some chords or notes on an instrument, stops playing, and sings a line of the song.

Lines 25-28

"I got the Weary Blues And I can't be satisfied. Got the Weary Blues And can't be satisfied–

We're back to the musician singing, but now he's doing the chorus. The chorus can sum everything up, then makes a big statement at the end. Sure, Lines 27-28 are a repetition of 25-26, but it's not exact. Dropping the Is in the repeated lines lets the singer draw out some syllables. It adds some punch and lets the musician show his chops.

Lines 29-30

I ain't happy no mo' And I wished that I had died."

Whoa, getting kind of bleak! This is the end of the chorus where we get the punch line, but this one is a real bummer. The singer wishes he wasn't alive in line 30, but just a couple of lines ago he was going to stop his frowning. What's up with this? Maybe singing the blues and showing emotions is how he "puts his problems on his shelf."

Lines 31-34

And far into the night he crooned that tune. The stars went out and so did the moon. The singer stopped playing and went to bed While the Weary Blues echoed thorough his head.

The musician has rocked out all night. In fact he's rocked out so hard that the stars are exhausted and go out like a lamp. One might say they've "run out of gas." (Ooh, a Physics pun!) The sun is coming up and the crowd is getting ready to stumble out into the early dawn. The singer comes home and passes out, but the music is such a part of him that it's stuck in his head.

Line 35

He slept like a rock or a man that's dead.

This last line is a brain teaser. Sleeping like a rock is usually a good thing. Right? But sleeping like a dead man is a pretty dark image to associate with sleeping like a rock. It's not like we'd expect a bluesman to sleep like a baby. He said he wanted to die in the song, but this seems different. Maybe he is like a dead man, because he rests in peace.

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