Something To Do With That Mark Clemens Man

“Girl” (1984) – Jamaica Kincaid

“this is how to sew on a button; this is how to make a buttonhole for the button you have just sewed on; this is how to hem a dress when you see the hem coming down and so to prevent yourself from looking like the slut I know you are so bent on becoming”

10:00 P.M. Sunday. Take out the anthology. Flip to a page. Read.

Taking the usual steps toward blog-post completion, of course the night of the due date, I found this charming tidbit in the “Fiction For Further Reading.” In and amongst the typical short stories that inhabit this section this caught my eye. Too lazy for a judgmental and extensive selection process I decided to go ahead and read the piece. I noticed right away that this could hardly fit into the same category as the other short stories, in fact the mere paragraph could hardly be considered fiction. To my senses it was a clever list; a list derived from reality and true life experience to be sure. The nature of the format makes the content seem so real, as if Kincaid has just copied the statements from real life, which made me ponder on the status of fiction in general. Isn't all fiction in reality non-fiction, just a series of experiences and memories translated to the page in different styles and variations? Indeed. In this instance the reality is specific to gender and geographic roles. A mother indicates to a young woman all that makes a proper lady. So of course the expository rant of demands and instructions includes sewing, cooking, setting the table, ironing, washing clothes, grocery shopping, proper conduct, and all the things that make a woman: everything that doesn't make a man. A man of course does not cook his own food, or wash his own clothes. A man does not have to be demure or monogamous. A woman, however, must. Or else. Or else what? She is a slut. This piece focuses on expectations, and ironically plays upon the reality of these expectations. While for us these stereotypical roles seem outdated, if not sexist and indeed archaic, they hold a vast amount of truth or else we, the audience, would not be able to recognize the irony, laugh at its mild humor, and relate to the very humanity of its theme. The wit and talent of the writing comes from the idea of combining multiple assumptions about various groups of people. The work contains such things as “okra,” “benna,” “dasheen,” “doukona,” etcetera. All of these things are characteristic of a Caribbean environment. The subject matter is associative of a relationship between mother and daughter. The mother is the stereotypical woman in her characteristic society. Anything other than the norm is normally considered atypical. All the aspects of this piece combine to play on the expectations of the reader. In fact the speaker is actually telling the audience what to expect through these strict demands and assumptions. The speaker assumes that her daughter wants to be a slut, because she acts differently; by “play[ing] marbles” and asking questions. When the daughter asks questions like, “what if the baker won't let me feel the bread?” the mother automatically concludes that her daughter has made the decision to become a slut. Why? Because she cannot take all this advice and “wisdom” on faith, and continues to inquire about the world; an unacceptable role for a woman, which is why the piece is titled “Girl.” The real lesson comes from the latter part of the story, where the mother briefly starts to tell of nontraditional skills, that she must have learned from being a “slut” or liberated and unconfined “girl” herself, with lines like “this is how to make a good medicine to throw away a child before it even becomes a child,” “this is how to bully a man,” or “this is how to spit up in the air if you feel like it.” The mother's severity dissipates and allows for the irony to continue, as honest expectations fade into truthful imperfection. On a similar note the idea of free spirited girl versus matronly woman reminds me of Harry Smith, to whom this blog is partially dedicated. An American folk song from his anthology is titled "Single Girl Married Girl," the song parallels the idea of typical gender roles in society, to which the lyrics are as follows:

"Single girl, oh single girl
She's gone anywhere she please
Oh, gone anywhere she please
Married girl, oh married girl
Got a baby on her knees
Oh, got a baby on her knees

Single girl, oh single girl
She's going dressed up so fine
Oh going dressed up so fine
Married girl, oh, married girl
She wears any kind
Oh, she wears any kind

Single girl, oh single girl
She goes to the store and buys
Oh goes to the store and buys
Married girl, oh, married girl
She rocks the cradle and cries
Oh, rocks the cradle and cries

Single girl, oh single girl
She lays in bed 'til one
Oh lays in bed 'til one
Married girl, oh, married girl
She's up before the sun
Oh, up before the sun

Single girl, oh single girl
She's looking for a man
Oh looking for a man
Married girl, oh, married girl
She's got her wedding band
Oh, got her wedding band"

The song mirrors the irony of Kincaid's work, by presenting the irony of a "girl's" situation. A girl wants maternal responsibilities, but also resents the loss of independence once such is found. The song also lends insight into why the mother so adamantly stresses not becoming a "slut," and gives her daughter instructions on how to perform an abortion and become a respected woman, as she does not want her to lead the same life. Ultimately, the title gives the piece a sense of future and uncertainty, the prospect of growth and maturity (or lack thereof), as a mother attempts to dispense some knowledge to her youthful progeny.


I fully endorse this form of creativity, it is not quite stream of consciousness, it should be categorized as selective hearing or memory, as all the things that we can or choose to remember, that we record from the one-sided conversations. Something that looks too real not to be. Too short to have meaning, yet too repetitive not to. In short, I think I like it. I applaud the publisher's choice to include the piece, and think even more highly of this anthology in general. I'm sure Mr. McCarthy would agree that this creative composition consists of the “Madman” concept of the construction process, and in many ways is successful in this organic form, without further development or plot. If I were to experiment with this writing technique I would once again venture to say that such an invention would not in any way be detrimental to my writing, especially considering how deficient my skills are currently, how could it hurt?

Relative Romantic Associations

“you fit into me” (1971) – Margaret Atwood
“you fit into me
like a hook into an eye

a fish hook
an open eye”

As Ms. Smith and I were discussing both Romantic and romantic activities to do for Monday's Valentine's Day English class, we briefly talked on how the utilization of foreign or at least unexpected objects as metaphors for emotion and thought can indeed translate into both Romantic and romantic poetry. Atwood's poem perfectly exemplifies this idea. The concept of love is obviously nothing new, so interpreting it as something more profound than age-old adages of roses and classical nymphs transforms the definition of love and poetry in general. Not that cupid wasn't a creative innovation in his day, or the idea of relating natural beauty to emotional beauty, but allowing poetry to evolve is part of its perpetual cycle and everlasting renewal. Here the audience sees a hook and eye. A common, if not somewhat outdated object; completely utilitarian. Some associations to compliment a hook and an eye would perhaps be of another more simple era, and of course a doorway. Atwood relies on these common associations to make the poem successful in relaying her emotions to her intended audience, whomever that may be. She speaks of a love that perfectly fits, one person with another. But the irony comes with the realization that the hook and eye are not prevalent in her contemporary world. And so, the role of the primitive lock comes into play, almost as if barring the complications of a modern culture from her more simple and pure experience with love. The second stanza generates another association with the concept of a hook. With the specification of a “fish hook” other connections come to mind. Obviously fishing, but also the role that a fish hook partakes in the fishing process, also helps to create deeper meaning. Instantaneously, I think of a tantalizing lure that cruelly captures the ignorant aquatic creature. Combining that relation to romantic relationships, the reader contemplates a type of sorrowful seduction where the speaker becomes a casualty of love. However, the last line clarifies this ongoing and shifting metaphor: “an open eye.” This expresses a comprehension and omniscience about a supposed bait, and willingness of being caught. Ultimately both these correlations whether intended by Margaret Atwood or not, have helped to compose a nontraditional and highly thoughtful image of love.

Theoretics

“The Disappearance” (1995) – Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

“Years later, when he was an old man living in a home for seniors (his second wife dead, his daughters moved away to distant towns, his son not on speaking terms with him), he would continue to be dazzled by that brief unguarded joy on her face, would say to himself, again, how much she must have hated me to choose to give that up.

But he had no inkling of any of this yet. So he switched off the trash compactor with a satisfied click, the sense of a job well done and, after taking a shower (long and very hot, the way he liked it, the hard jets of water turning the skin of his chest a dull red), went to bed and fell immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.”

Effortlessly and nonchalantly Divakaruni seems to encompass the entirety of familial folly in her work. After his wife secretly leaves him, how carelessly the misogynist thinks that he can discard her memory. Those are the moments that define our entire existence, the ones that we can never forget, the ones that ring hollowly through our minds until the very end. A quote from Venus seems to sum up this entire short story;

“'For most men a woman's body is the most beautiful thing they will ever see.'

'What's the most beautiful thing a girl sees? Do you know?'

'Her first child.'”

And through this story we see how each gender fights for each “beautiful” thing. With the husband, the audience sees how he marries a woman the same week that he meets her, endangers his marriage with sexual demands, estranges his son by marrying another woman, and practically destroys himself seeking this one thing. With the grandmother we see exactly the same, she pressures her son to marry so that she can attempt to recreate the joy of childbirth through a grandchild, then she happily takes the place of homemaker after her daughter-in-law leaves so that she can be nearer to her son and grandson, then she further meddles in her son's life by getting him to remarry and have more grandchildren. The audience witnesses how both parties attempt to pretend like nothing has happened, and demean the wife's influence and power, by selfishly yearning for their precious desires. This is what makes the wife heroic. She abandons the one thing in her life that makes her most happy; her son. As if to teach him an invaluable lesson, by disappearing she makes a statement to her son that such abusive tendencies on the part of his father are unjustifiable. With her escape, the son eventually breaks away himself from the dust strewn traditions of an uncivil past. The distasteful secrets of married life, childhood, and parenting all come out in this short story, along with the pangs of human life in general. As the husband bitterly finds out that his wife was not abducted, but rather ran away, his pride and anger lead to his ultimate downfall in classic hubris form. Alone and self-betrayed he must face a truth that he has so long hidden.

The author shrewdly leaves quotation punctuation out of her tragic tale. In this way the speaker is separate, yet connected to the thoughts, actions, and dialogue of each character. Using dialogue in such an unlikely way compresses the work, like the inescapable truth and pressure that the main character feels. The perspective also becomes unique, as third person omniscient combines with first person limited. More importantly the dialogue is not stressed in this format, as it generally is with most work. With the separation of dialogue by paragraphs for each character and the obvious quotation marks, the eye is drawn to this emphatic component. Without this structure, the feeling fades from the remarks and becomes almost apathetic or uncaring, thus leaving the audience unsympathetic to the husband's plight; an important aspect of the story. Morphing common practices to the needs of a story is absolutely vital, and should not be avoided. Utilizing imagination and atypical methodology should always be welcomed in the literature community, since these are factors of which it so highly depends upon.

Steel-cut Oats

“Grief” - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

“I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless;
That only men incredulous of despair,
Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air
Beat upward to God's throne in loud access
Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness,
In souls as countries, lieth silent-bare
Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare
Of the absolute Heavens. Deep-hearted man, express
Grief for thy Dead in silence like to death--
Most like a monumental statue set
In everlasting watch and moveless woe
Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.
Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet:
If it could weep, it could arise and go.”

Shock, eternal resignation, a paralyzing stillness. These are the things that Browning recognizes in her examination of grief. We are not those who discredit and disbelieve despair, we, who know it well, saturate ourselves in it, and drown without noise, without struggle. We do not long for normalcy, nor verdant emotion, we accept a tragic fate that leaves us broken, with the rationality of fatigue, of a listlessness that extends into unknown depths. It permeates, it slowly weathers away intricate nerve endings, it inhabits and hijacks our very bodies, until truth becomes vacant, and form barred. Until the movement of this suffocating mass becomes as physically impossible as a statue shedding marvelous tears. Do I know grief? Only as one knows smelling, not all possess the sense, but even those who do could never describe it accurately. Browning comes close, but she could never translate this poem to those who have never felt what she has experienced, just as I could never explain the smell of infiltrating smoke or creeping mold to someone who has never used their nose. Like a parasite it feeds on our mere existence, and we solemnly accept this relationship, as we dwindle into dehydrated fruit. Like a line, imaginary, endless, and impossible we remain in these purgatories, indeed until we “crumble.”

I could go on to talk about how Browning uses a seamless a-b-b-a-a-b-b-a-c-d-e-c-d-e rhyme scheme, using true, and slant rhymes to make the poem less artificial and intrusive, but I cannot. I believe that a mindless praise and analysis of such would be disrespectful and almost inappropriate. The work has affected me greatly, and that's all that really needs to be said. Browning has a gift for profound authenticity and connection, as someone who can relate to the work, and collapse in its verses, I can honestly say that such skill is welcome in composition.

The Insistent Plea Still Rings

“Do not go gentle into that good night” (1951) – Dylan Thomas

“Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.


Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.


Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

The word villanelle comes from the Latin word “villanella” meaning rustic. As perhaps the most well-known and celebrated of the villanelles, “Do not go gentle into that good night” indeed incorporates a rustic tone and sincerity. Written shortly after the death of his father, Dylan Thomas transformed his confusion, grief, and anger at the loss into a desperate plea. The repetition of lines, and rhymes (as is typical in a villanelle) help to create this tragic tone. Like the soft waves of tears the come in and out like the tide, Thomas indulges in the same feeling through his mournful composition. The honor, love, and respect that he held for his father is also evident in the numerous stanzas. Dylan Thomas also addresses the need for legacy in life. These “wise men,” “good men,” “wild men,” and “grave men” know well enough to fight to the end for life, when all seems meaningless and trivial. Thomas speaks to the brevity of life as well as even these most noble men, with lives full, cannot impact the world enough to leave a legacy. With this and the intolerable loss he had to face, Dylan Thomas begs each man to combat an empty life, but more importantly an arbitrary death, to not surrender to apathy and tradition, but to expire with passion, so that the light may never die.


The revival of formalism is imperative in current writing, deconstruction is often popular in contemporary composition, but this wondrous poem, identifies the advantages of formalism for certain topics and themes. The insistence of the stanzas does not subside, like those going “gentle into that good night,” but instead rages “against the dying of the light.” The villanelle impacts the audience firmly within this context, because of this very repetition, and formalism. The structure simply reaffirms Thomas’ theme, and without it would become ineffective. If Thomas was to, for instance, write a haiku, attempting to carry this theme, his structure would only display the exact opposite of what he was trying to get across. The number of words used in a haiku, or less verbose type of poem, would also betray the persistence of his message. Though it requires great skill, and time, a villanelle can be one of the strongest forms of poetry.

Stone Knifes and Bearskins

“Some Good Things to Be Said for the Iron Age” (1970) - Gary Snyder 

“A ringing tire iron

     dropped on the pavement

Whang of a saw

brusht on limbs

the taste

of rust”

Snyder adequately expresses his prophesy of and excitement for the demise of the Iron Age in his brief yet cunning poem. The “ringing tire iron” symbolizes the effects of the iron age, as if echoing out throughout the centuries. However the phrase “dropped on the pavement” brings to mind the abandonment of this long lasting era in human development, as if this technology abruptly ended, as a point on a time line. The placement of this line to the right of the first would suggest the same thing, as if in the future the Iron Age will terminate. The severe onomatopoeias present in this succinct poem indicate Snyder's impression of the harsh and unnatural form of the Iron Age such as with the word “whang,” this impresses upon the reader the feeling of a alien like noise. In the next line the word “brusht” also displays a sharp severity, a facet of the Iron Age, but also implies a past tense, as if to reassure the audience that the Iron Age will indeed conclude. Finally “the taste of rust” gives the reader a sense of destruction and deterioration, as the infamous age comes to a close. The last four lines become shorter and shorter in length creating a poignant form, coming to a point, as if slowly eroding as Snyder clearly professes the Iron Age will. Obviously including the title in Snyder's overall theme, he simply reaches out to say that the best thing “to be said for the Iron Age” is its overall termination.

The profound use of shape literally become imagery within this poem. Visually shape is an extraordinary way of capturing an audience's attention. As Thomas Foster clearly states, “if it's square it's a sonnet,” while this is just one way of quickly identifying a form of poem, he is right to emphasis the importance of shape in poetry. Especially since the brevity makes the word usage more subjective, because there is less body to put them into context, Snyder relies heavily on shape to clarify the meaning of the short phrases he applies. Snyder exponentiates the meaning of the few words he does uses, by eliminating the worthless baggage that comes with formal writing. In rejecting the usual structure of composition, Snyder gives every word a purpose and objective. The title has a invaluable mission as well. This atypically long title (especially considering the length of the overall poem) draws attention to itself in order to direct the reader's mind to a specific topic before reading the rest of the poem. Snyder's effective use of a title helps to engage the reader in the proper way, so that the meaning is not lost to confusion. I think that both these literary components are imperative to shorter poems. If a person wants to be brief, hard-hitting, and clever with a few words, meaning must still be sustained. Without the proper guidelines, such as with the use of shape and title the average audience will be disoriented in trying to define its theme and symbolism.

Respite For The Violent

“First Fight. Then Fiddle” (1949) - Gwendolyn Brooks

“First fight. Then fiddle. Ply the slipping string

With feathery sorcery; muzzle the note

With hurting love; the music that they wrote

Bewitch, bewilder. Qualify to sing

Threadwise. Devise no salt, no hempen thing

For the dear instrument to bear. Devote

The bow to silks and honey. Be remote

A while from malice and from murdering.

But first to arms, to armor. Carry hate

In front of you and harmony behind.

Be deaf to music and to beauty blind.

Win war. Rise bloody, maybe not too late

For having first to civilize a space

Wherein to play your violin with grace.”

Brooks speaks to the towering contradictions of the proponents of war. Seeming “Renaissance” men who have not only a fine skill for violent tactics, but surprising the violin as well. In many ways this poem connects to the archetype of Mr. Kurtz within Heart of Darkness. Within this respected man lies various talents for painting, playing a musical instrument, writing, and perhaps above all the aptitude for speaking. The golden standard for Imperialist Europe, Kurtz then deteriorates into an unwholesome shadow that whispers foul tidings from the inner sanctums of a symbolic hell. This metamorphosis, or rather devolution, parallels that in Brooks' poem. Those with a sensitive attraction towards music and art, abandon their high ideals with a vicious blood lust. The civilized manners of class and society crumble against testosterone-fueled crusades. In a dissimilar perspective, Brooks could also be addressing the foolhardiness of young warmongers with an impatience to prove themselves to the world. As a result the consuming hate leaves only a murmuring mold of a man, who desperately attempts to forget his past naivety through a love of music. However perceived, Brooks injects an equal amount of passion in the descriptions of both pastimes, insuring that the reader understands the brutal irony of the poem's subject. In either case the poem still leaves a didactic and rather poignant theme.

Brooks combines both the structures of the traditional Shakespearean sonnet, and the Italian sonnet to create a fresh rhyme scheme that still neatly encases her work in an organized manner (at least more so than the free verse). “First Fight. Then Fiddle” incorporates the rhyming pattern "abbaabbacddcee." This rhyme scheme compares to that of the Italian, except for the last two verses which adhere to the Shakespearean standard. Brooks also utilizes iambic pentameter which is also typical in Shakespearean sonnets. This format maintains a sense of originality, but not at the expense of losing familiarity and structure. I find it all too easy to disregard formalism within poetry (especially while I'm writing it). Free verse generally reigns supreme with most undeveloped creative writers, because it is much easier. As we discussed in class, rhyming is difficult, and adhering to a set number of syllables can be taxing. Without structure the work somehow becomes less admirable, or, in some cases, less coherent and palatable. It obviously requires more time, but I think the idea of engineering a new version to an old classical structure, such as within Brooks' poem, can help to make the process more fun, and allow more room for creativity, while improving overall technique.