Cyril Darkcloud Posted November 11, 2004 Report Posted November 11, 2004 Mira’s poem can be found here. A quick grammatical note – The final sentence is in the interrogative form of a question and should be punctuated as such. Preliminary Observations This is a piece that really rewards the one who takes a second, and even a third or fourth, look at it. Not only is the imagery of the poem stated with an effectively simple directness, it has a vividness about it that captures the attention of the reader. The images are so strong, in fact, that it does seem to require a second look to notice the intriguing manner in which the poem is structured. The structure of the piece at first glance has an understated directness about it and to a degree this is true, but there is also a surprising complexity about the arrangement of the piece. Despite these considerable strengths, however, the poem has a couple weaknesses which, ironically, seem to result from these very strengths. The initial and concluding images, for example, while each finely executed in their own right do not work well together. Also, the triple interrogative* which concludes the piece is severely limited in its effectiveness by the middle question which is easily the weakest line in the piece. Note, however, that having weaknesses like these is not a bad problem as, rather than making this a bad piece of writing, they can help point the way to turning this good bit of writing into a much stronger poem. * As noted above, the last sentence, while not punctuated to indicate it, is grammatically structured as a question. A more specific look at these issues will follow in an additional post which will hopefully be ready tomorrow.
Cyril Darkcloud Posted November 24, 2004 Author Report Posted November 24, 2004 Mira, I’m sorry for the delay in getting this post together. My work involves moving back and forth between multiple languages and things got so busy the last couple week’s that I actually wasn’t sure at times which language I was working in – a situation which, needless to say, makes it a bit difficult to put any kind of analytical post such as this together. A Structure of Images Often when we think of the structure of a piece of writing such things as the number of syllables, patterns of stressed and unstressed syllables and the rhyme scheme are the first things we look for. In doing so it is easy to forget that a piece of writing can employ other structuring principles than these and that the strongest poetry at times may lack a discernible structure in terms of syllables, meter and rhyme and yet still be tightly put together by means of a skillful interweaving of images and thematic elements. One of the intriguing features of the piece and, in fact, the very thing which arrested my attention at the onset is the importance of the image [or better, perhaps, metaphor] of a house for the integrity of the piece. The first two lines of the piece provide a beautiful and striking complex of images which establish this metaphor at the very outset of the poem. The coupling of the tactile, the auditory and the visual elements in the initial image of oaken doors and hinges is an outstanding piece of writing. A very fine touch here is the movement from the size of the oaken doors to the relative smallness and very specific character of their hinges – that the reader’s mental eye naturally follows the sound of the creeking to focus on the hinges is a wonderful mimetic* touch. That this is followed by shifting the reader’s attention once more to the even greater size of a house is a very powerful move on the part of the writer. By the end of these two lines the coupling of deserted house and love is decisively and effectively executed. The next two lines which like the previous two lines stand as a discrete unit in terms of their spatial separation form the other lines of the poem continue to develop the metaphor of the house by declaring it not merely deserted but also haunted – a curious and effective coupling as deserted implies the lack of presence and haunting by definition implies a presence of some sort. Haunted places are generally also described as deserted, however, and that is quickly capitalized upon by the introduction of the ghosts – insubstantial forms of presence – of narrator and lover. The disturbing absence in presence and presence in absence implied in speaking of a ghost works very well here. The reader now finds himself within a house abandoned but haunted by a lingering pair of present absences that can only seek out one another without ever truly touching one another. The use of habitual to describe the darkness is a bold and interesting choice in that it on the one hand communicates a persistent state of being such as the unbroken darkness one might expect within a deserted building it also is evocative of human behavior producing by means of repeated actions a persistent aspect of character. Once again – a truly fine piece of writing. Unfortunately, however, the subsequent lines of the piece do not capitalize on this fine beginning and actually serve to undermine it. The creative use of such familiar themes as ghosts, haunted houses and deserted buildings is followed by the cliché unholy host which arrests the reader’s attention in the wrong way – linguistically it does not fit with the elegant simplicity of the previous elements of the piece; its implicit imagery of an army or mob emerges from nowhere in the piece and leads nowhere; it is, simply put, a trite expression having a dramatic sound about it but with no visual or truly dramatic substance. In place of the nuanced details of the previous lines one finds here a vague “host” described as “unholy” that acts to “drive someone away” and yet despite the apparent boldness of these words they lack the genuine and substantial visual and emotive feel of the previous lines. In fact, removing this line from the poem does not take anything away from the piece, but rather seems to strengthen the poem. Perhaps it is this loss of the thread of imagery of the first two elements of the piece that leads to the puzzling image that concludes the poem. Until this point the image of a deserted but haunted house – a building in disrepair but still intact – has been fixed in the eye of the reader. Now, however, the reader is told that this house of creaking hinges and oaken doors was merely a construction of clay that has already melted and crumbled. The images here are fine in themselves but they do not seem to work well in combination with the set of images introduced and developed in the first half of the piece. Perhaps another way of speaking of the deterioration of the building would be more effective here - the autumn rain pouring through cracks in the roof, as a rather crude example, and soaking the attic floor. The Shape of the Poem Visually there is a curious structuring at work in the piece. It begins with a single sentence divided into two lines which stands as a single defined unit and cluster of ideas and images. This is followed by a second sentence similarly divided and likewise standing as a single defined unit. This is followed by a single question, simply stated, standing apart at the center of the piece. This question is in turn followed by another pair of questions [again, grammatically the last sentence is an interrogative although it is not punctuated in this way]. The first interrogative which in a direct and simple way gives voice to the very question the reader is asking after reading the first two sentences is a fine touch. That the question itself is small and isolated adds emotional force – a fine use of the placement of text to enhance the effectiveness of an idea. Again, however, it is this very effectiveness which underscores the weakness of the following lines. The immediate follow up question – what unholy host ..... – is not nearly so strong and definite as the questions or conjectures the reader himself might naturally and readily form upon reading that very poignant, even plaintive, interrogative How did we get to this?. This isolated interrogative creates a decisive break in the piece which begs to be followed by writing that is every bit as strong as that which precedes it. In other words, any questions or images that follow upon this question need to engage the vivid images of the initial lines of the piece which are the very images the reader will spontaneously use in understanding the question itself. It is important to note that in asking How did we get to this? the “this” of that question for the reader is nothing other than what he has been told in the previous 4 lines. A Tentative Suggestion As significantly increasing the length of the work might well be too drastic a change, one possible course of action might be to completely drop weakest line of the piece - ....unholy host.... – and to work at producing a two line concluding question that focuses the emotional pain to the short question in terms of the images of the previous lines. ____________________________________ Again, Mira, I want to stress that this piece is a fine bit or writing that has potential to be even stronger. Obviously I found it to be both engaging and stimulating to have written this much and I would be very interested in seeing where you take it should you decide to revisit it. Keep writing! * Mimesis in writing can be understood as a text allowing the reader to experience the reality it is communicating. This is not so much a case of art imitating life as art allowing one to participate in an aspect of life.
Mira Posted November 29, 2004 Report Posted November 29, 2004 (edited) Taking your comments into account Cyril, I've rewritten the third stanza. The poem is now this. Oaken doors creek on dead, rusted hinges Within the deserted house of our love. This building is haunted, by ghosts of ourselves Who stumble and search for each other in the habitual dark. How did we get to this? How did we let the house, which stood so proud, fall into disrepair? With unanswered questions that poisoned the air. With sorrowful glances of fleeting despair. Edited December 1, 2004 by Mira
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