Showing posts with label Robert Frost. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Frost. Show all posts

Sunday, October 9, 2011

The Lessons and Consistency of Frost


                Many poets at some point in their career attempt to define what it is they do – poetry. These definitions often include lofty aspirations of what (or who) a poet is, the work that poetry should do in society, and the place poetry should hold for both the poet and others. Robert Frost like the many poets that came before and after him set out his thoughts on poetry in his work The Figure a Poem Makes.
                In The Figure a Poem Makes, Frost asserts that poetry “must be a revelation, or a series of revelations, as much for the poet as for the reader” (1410*). Frost believes that poetry should cause a revelation in the poet as well as the reader – we should be learning from poetry. Frost describes this phenomenon differently earlier in the passage: “the surprise of remembering something I didn’t know I knew” (1410).  Writing poetry taught Frost lessons that he must have known on some level, but was not consciously aware of or acting on.  Poetry should change us and our perspectives on our situations, whether we write it or read it. After I read Frost’s beliefs about the work of poetry I went back through some of his poetry and tried to find the ‘revelation’ in the poem – what I can learn from this, and maybe even what Frost learned from his poems.  Additionally, I wanted to see if Frost often followed his own guidelines for poetry. The consistency of what a poet believes poetry should be and what their writing actually entails is often interesting and very telling about that particular poet.
                Frost’s The Road Not Taken is one of his most popular poems, and well-known American poems, in general. The poem begins with Frost describing the intersection of paths in the woods. Shortly thereafter, the wooden paths become metaphorical rather than simply paths.  The way the two paths are described makes them seem as though each would be a fine choice, but yet a choice had to be made. Frost was reflecting on how he got to where he is in life, and what has made him who he is.  Frost at that point chose “the one less traveled by;” it was that “path” or choice in Frost’s life “that has made all the difference” in who he became.  The riskier choices Frost made in his life were the ones that made “all the difference.” ‘Playing it safe,’ always choosing the safest option is not the way to live life. Frost did not regret his risks, at least not in hindsight, and as a young person I should not be afraid to take risks, and make choices that no one else is. Frost’s sentiment and revelation in this poem reminds all of us, Frost included, that following the crowd does not always pay off – we need to think and choose for ourselves.
                The destruction of the world is discussed in Fire and Ice.  Frost debates whether the world will end in fire or ice. He ultimately resolves that it does not matter whether the world is destroyed by fire or ice, because destruction is final. However, the world ends up being destroyed will “suffice.” Frost comes to the revelation that either fire or ice would adequately destroy the world. This revelation should cause us to stop worrying about how the world will end and instead we should focus on living our lives while the world still does exist.  Much like the previously discussed The Road Not Traveled, risks are worth taking, and we should not worry about destruction, but rather the life that we are living.
                Frost’s Nothing Gold Can Stay discusses the fleeting quality of beauty and perfection.  The poem moves from the initial perfection of nature’s “first green” to the Garden of Eden, the perfection of both could not last.  Frost ends the poem with its title “nothing gold can stay,” which is also the revelation within the poem. Perfection does not last, this side of heaven, and we should cherish the perfect hues of nature, and special moments while they last.   
                Frost’s Mending Wall describes a yearly New England tradition of mending the wall between neighbors. The first line of the poem “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall”, which is also repeated near the end at line 35, begins to hint at the revelation of the poem. The only other repeated line in the poem is explanation of this tradition by the speaker’s neighbor “Good fences make good neighbors.” It seems as though the speaker is the first one to question the practice of mending and rebuilding the wall every year. The speaker would rather let the wall crumble, but is not willing to explain this to the neighbor, rather the speaker fixes the wall  and wonders what it is that causes the wall to fall. Simple physics would tell the speaker that the ground freezing and thawing causes the wall to fall, but this simple answer does not seem to be what the speaker is really looking to find. Instead, the speaker is doing something relatively radical even by our standards – questioning ingrained tradition. Frost’s revelation is that tradition is important, but it should also be logical. If ‘something’ is continually destroying the fence, maybe the neighbors should become friends rather than continually building a wall to ignore each other. It is rather ironic that the neighbors work to build a wall between themselves all the while the speaker is wondering about the neighbor and the neighbor’s thoughts, rather than asking. Questioning traditions may bring change, but that change could also bring friendship and unity.
                Frost relatively clearly lays out what poetry is and who a poet is in his The Figure a Poem Makes. One of Frost’s main points about poetry is that it should have a revelation that can teach both the poet and the reader. Poetry is a method of teaching and learning lessons. In the four poems that I evaluated and analyzed (although I may have purposely chosen them that way), Frost completed his mission of revelation in poetry by including lessons for the reader, and likely for himself. In all fairness, we cannot be certain that Frost did learn from his own poetry.  Not every poet is able to actually fulfill what they believe poetry is in their own writing. Frost was a good poet being able to coherently describe what poetry is as well as practice it in his own writing.

* All page numbers from Norton Anthology of American Literature Seventh Edition. 

Saturday, October 8, 2011

The Figure a Poem Makes

Robert Frost, a great American writer, is renowned for his poetry. This being the case, I was a little surprised that one of my favorite parts of the Frost section was the assigned prose reading comprising his ideas about the formation of a poem. Don’t get me wrong, I think Frost’s poetry is brilliant, but I was fascinated by his description of what a poem ought to be and do. One of the most successful things about “The Figure a Poem Makes” is that, to my way of thinking, his criteria are met in many of his own poems.

In “The Figure a Poem Makes,” Frost states that a poem should be surprising while still fulfilling its subject. To be a poem, the work’s ending must be structured in a way that surprises both the writer and the reader. However, after the initial surprise, the ending must be recognizable as the only possible way the poem could have ended, given its beginning.

An example of this idea can be seen in Frost’s poem “The Wood-Pile,” in which the beginning image of the wood-pile is fulfilled by the dénouement of the poem, where we find that the wood has been left

“To warm the frozen swamp as best it could

With the slow smokeless burning of decay.”

The abandoned wood-pile left in the snow at the start of the poem is burning by the end, and the lines along the way flow naturally into this conclusion, describing the constant state of decay the wood-pile has been in for an uncertain length of time. The intended purpose of the wood, implied at the start of the poem, has been fulfilled by the end.

Similarly, if the title of “Nothing Gold Can Stay,” were not the same as the last line, the end would be both surprising and strangely natural. All of the golden things pictured before are short-lived: spring, flowers, leaves, Eden, dawn. Frost produces picture after picture of gold that appears for a time before eventually fading away, so we subconsciously know the final line before we read it. In this way, Frost achieves the effect he described as “an outcome that though unforeseen was predestined from the first image of the original mood.”

Frost also emphasizes his perception of the very purpose of poetry. He writes in “The Figure of a Poem” that a true poem “begins in delight and ends in wisdom.” In this way, a poem becomes a “clarification of life…a momentary stay against confusion.” In “Fire and Ice” Frost reveals one such clarification. He begins by explaining that

“Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice,”

and that since he has experienced desire, he leans towards fire. But by the end he has said that

“I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.”

This admission illuminates the devastating power of two facets of human nature—desire and hate—which are capable of destroying the world twice over, in fire and ice respectively.

Through his clarification of life, combined with the orderly development of his poetry, Frost achieves a third goal laid out in “The Figure of a Poem”: summoning from the chaos of his experience the material for his poetry. This method of drawing the order and pattern of the cosmos out of the seeming chaos of everyday life, in addition to being a clarification of life, is an affirmation of life—the pain, the beauty, and the joy of life. By writing poetry that has “run itself and carried the poet away with it,” Robert Frost invites us to be carried along as well, to be continually surprised by the wildness, the fragrance, the meaning of life.