I love this cultured hell that tests my youth. Her vigor flows like tides into my blood, Giving me strength erect against her hate
A tough, aggressive, violent patriotism, but patriotism nonetheless.
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth. Her vigor flows like tides into my blood, Giving me strength erect against her hate
A tough, aggressive, violent patriotism, but patriotism nonetheless.
Of day the little gray feet know no rest
Gray; an in between black and white. Significant? Definitely not a coincidence of word choice
Its veil
We will never escape or remove the veil
Heritage
I think another appropriate title could even be "A call to ancestors"
Throats of bronze will burst with mirth. Sing a little faster, Sing a little faster, Sing!
Similar to Hughe's poem "The Weary Blues" where the structure of the poem mimics its subject matter.
To Usward
I'm curious about the title. A combination of us and forward? So going towards us, towards our people? Moving toward a future for our people?
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 . . .
The form of the poem mimics the subject matter in a way. The rhyming of words and repetition of certain words and lines is rhythmic and musical.
Say to me, “Eat in the kitchen,” Then.
Quotes in a poem again, like Eliot's "The Wasteland." However here the quotes don't make the poem more complex or difficult to understand. The quotes here do the opposite and actually it make it easier for any common reader to understand what Hughe's is aiming to accomplish.
I bathe in the Euphrates when dawns were young. I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep. I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
From Euphrates, to the Congo, to the Nile and so on. The fast pace structure of the poem as it goes from one part of the world to the next from line to line brings the subject of speed and modernity to mind.
who
The repetition of "who" here almost seems less like an identification of any particular person and more of a question of identity. It either creates solidarity of a people that Ginsberg is referring to or isolates one or multiple individuals. On the other hand, it could be intended to create a mixture of solidarity and isolation.
dragging
From here through to the rest of the poem, each line continues with action. Ginsberg creates movement, action, and all else he creates speed with beginning each line as it's hooked onto the last. I find this to be greatly relevant to the previous modernist literature we've read. Although Pound's poem "In A Station of the Metro" had more directly to do with speed and modernity, Ginsberg poem make's speed present through structure and word choice.
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz
I can't help but think of an early Columbus Ave., San Francisco when reading lines like this, knowing the collection was published at City Lights Books.
The particular significance in the reestablishment of contact between the more advanced and representative classes is that it promises to offset some of the unfavorable reactions of the past, or at least to re-surface race contacts somewhat for the future. Subtly the conditions that are moulding a New Negro are moulding a new American attitude
This is one of the most important points in this piece. The progression of the black demographic and the recognition of such a progression on a larger, societal scale is in turn a larger progression of all demographics. By way of changing the social dynamic between two groups, the more general population of a society, and ultimately of a nation, progresses as well. There is a greater influence that Locke accounts.
The fiction is that the life of the races is separate and increasingly so. The fact is that they have touched too closely at the unfavorable and too lightly at the favorable levels.
I appreciate this short, articulate comparison in the form of fact vs. fiction. A major point and eloquently stated.
Nordic manners, Nordic faces, Nordic hair, Nordic art (if any)
I found this parenthetical to be amusing and maybe one of the only parts of this piece where something like a joke is made.
This young poet’s home is, I believe, a fairly typical home of the colored middle class.
Although Hughes is telling the story of one particular individual, here he takes a moment to point out that this is typical of a "colored" household during this period. The language here is important. Hughes articulately chooses to say "negro" but here opens up to all colored individuals of the middle class. Although this story is about one black individual, it is at the same time the story of many colored people of the middle class.
One of the most promising of the young Negro poets said to me once, “I want to be a poet–not a Negro poet,” meaning, I believe, “I want to write like a white poet”; meaning subconsciously, “I would like to be a white poet”; meaning behind that, “I would like to be white.”
While I understand the point Hughes' is making. I've heard statements like this in the past. Gabrielle Hamilton has said something similar in her memoir Blood, Bones and Butter. Hamilton is a successful chef. Invited to a convention for best chefs of the year, Hamilton was accompanying the best Female Chefs of the Year. Hamilton was upset that she wasn't just recognized as a chef, and angered by only being recognized successful because she's a women. I think if Hughes were to read this in Hamilton's memoir, he'd think that subconsciously Hamilton wants to be a man. However, Hamilton was pushing more for being recognized as a successful chef, and not to be recognized only because she's a female chef. Similarly, I think it's worth considering that the poet Hughes is referring to could mean that he wants to be recognized for his artistic success only for the prestige of the occupation, not because of his race as a preface.
Who is the third who walks always beside you? When I count, there are only you and I together But when I look ahead up the white road There is always another one walking beside you Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
Voices: Not unlike the previous excerpt I looked at, there is the voice of the speaker here, as well as the voice of the “you” that is not being heard by the reader. This seems to be a pattern and not as noticeable as other voices present in Eliot’s “Wasteland.” The speaker talking with unheard voices seems to fall into place with being in the middle, not quite in and not quite out; the speaker is talking with someone but he may or may not be heard when he’s not guaranteed a response in cases like this excerpt. There is also the voice of the third strange subject here: the “third...wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded.” This subject could also be another unheard voice and its effect on the other two subjects is mysteriously unknown.
Dead/undead: The last voice I mentioned seems to be another reference to the dead/undead motif. Someone who’s always walking beside the speaker’s friend yet isn’t quite there, not dissimilar to something of a shadow or a ghost. This very well could be a ghost or something that’s merely a burden holding back the subject that it’s always beside. Maybe the “third” and the “you” don’t notice it, but the speaker does and struggles to question its impact on the “you.”
Hardly aware of her departed lover; Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass: “Well now that’s done: and I’m glad it’s over.” When lovely woman stoops to folly and Paces about her room again, alone,
Voices: Though it could be the main speaker behind the poem (whoever that may be), the speaker in this excerpt could be one of many. There is the voice of a narrator here, and the voice of a woman, who’s quoted for one line. The narrator’s voice appears to be telling the subconscious story behind this woman’s actions, that even she may not be aware of. There is also the unheard/unspoken voice of another subject: the departed lover. Even though no words are spoken, there is a voice present behind the departed lover that’s subsequently mystified and we as readers do not get to know.
Exile: There are two forms of exile here. The woman is alone in her room along with the potential fact that -- as she paces -- she might not be able to leave her room(?). On the other hand, the language of a departed lover hints at the possibility that the lover was exiled, maybe not by the woman but another greater power than the two of them, it’s hard to tell.
Fragments: There is one but a seemingly important line in this poem that hints at fragmentation, where the woman has a “half-formed thought” and it suddenly passes. One might say that the feature of pacing alludes to fragmented thoughts, as she continues back and forth across the room, each time she turns around a thought has faded and a new one has appeared.
Women and men: Only blatantly noticeable by the identification of the subject as her/woman.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
What does THIS mean?
Oed’ und leer das Meer.
I enjoy the mix of the German language throughout the poem, even though it takes some extra work to understand
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee With a shower of rain
each season holds the opposite of its traditional value in this poem. warmth from winter, death from spring, rain from summer...
The police
bookmark
The ghost
From acting outraged feelings, Freddie Drummond, in the r”le of his other self, came to experience genuine outrage, and it was only when he returned to the classic atmosphere of the university that he was able, sanely and conservatively, to generalize upon his underworld experiences and put them down on paper as a trained sociologist should.
Go in fear of abstractions. Do not retell in mediocre verse what has already been done in good prose. Don’t think any intelligent person is going to be deceived when you try to shirk all the difficulties of the unspeakably difficult art of good prose by chopping your composition into line lengths.
Finally! I can go and write poetry the right way now.
Direct treatment of the “thing” whether subjective or objective. To use absolutely no word that does not contribute to the presentation. As regarding rhythm: to compose in the sequence of the musical phrase, not in sequence of a metronom
These steps for what constitutes poetry or this "new wave" of poetry reminds me of the movie, The Dead Poet's Society. Theres a couple scenes in the film based around this book that students have to study when reading analyzing poetry; there's a scientific scale for the goodness and brilliance of the poetry. These steps are similar to that scale, but in a more specific context and in a less offensive way.
His stalk the dark delphinium Unthorned into the tending hand Releases
This suggests vulnerability
Yet many a man is making friends with death
The subject of death read as a hard turn in the poem
“The Road Not Taken” (1916)
DPS
He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near
Interesting comparison -- the human speaker is in admiration of a land without man-made construction/obstruction, but the speaker believes his horse -- the animal -- must think it's strange to be in an are with nothing but nature.
heal-all
I don't understand how to read this hyphenation, here and when it appears the last time in the second stanza.
I WENT to the dances at Chandlerville
The last two poems start with a past event, the rest of it being recollection
medicinal weed
Is nobody going to say something about this?
But there is something else about that paper—the smell! I noticed it the moment we came into the room, but with so much air and sun it was not bad. Now we have had a week of fog and rain, and whether the windows are open or not, the smell is here
Mystery solved. It's black mold under the wallpaper that's causing the narrator to hallucinate, feel ill, smell these smells, etc. No need to read any further. This is just like a twist of the Netflix original The Haunting of Hill House. Although, given the chronology of the release of this story versus that show, I'm sure the HHH took inspiration from Gilman's story here.
You think you have mastered it, but just as you get well underway in following, it turns a back-somersault and there you are. It slaps you in the face, knocks you down, and tramples upon you. It is like a bad dream
I've noticed other's point this out already -- so to carry it forward: here seems to be an example of the extensive metaphor that is the wallpaper to illness. This appears to be a direct way of the narrator describing their illness, maybe more specifically depression (as other's have noted), or more uniquely, insanity.
So I walk a little in the garden or down that lovely lane, sit on the porch under the roses, and lie down up here a good deal. I’m getting really fond of the room in spite of the wall-paper. Perhaps BECAUSE of the wall-paper
The first mention of the narrator going outside of their room since they've been there (that I've noticed...) is complemented right after them saying that they're beginning to like the room and it may even be due to the wallpaper. There are a lot of clear and hidden oppositions in this text. The former statement is an opposition in itself.
So I try
There's something to talk about here.
Then he took me in his arms and called me a blessed little goose, and said he would go down to the cellar, if I wished, and have it whitewashed into the bargain
Two things here -- what an endearing nickname!.. and it's interesting that the bargain is painting the cellar white. As if instead of repapering the narrator's room is a good compromise to removing a wallpaper that is making her go crazy. Take the room that you don't sleep in (and apparently aren't allowed to go inside?) paint it white, and make it look like an asylum confinement cell, while you stay in the room that doesn't change at all and is practically an actual cell.
One of those sprawling flamboyant patterns committing every artistic sin.
They've (the narrator's) got character hahahah
I have a schedule prescription for each hour in the day; he takes all care from me, and so I feel basely ungrateful not to value it more
The narrator says she's cared for in this way, but thus far it sounds like she's kept heavily sedated for [his] own benefit. Heavy manipulation
The power of the ballot we need in sheer self-defence,—else what shall save us from a second slavery?
I question here if Dubois means a metaphorical second wave of slavery, as in a mental/subconscious slavery by tolerating drastic differences in labor laws and other loopholes in maintaining differences between POC and whites. I also wonder if he means a second wave of slavery quite literally. Through so many history lessons of abolition and progress, it's daunting thinking of how a second wave of slavery could have affected the rest of history.
The rays that Langley disowned, as well as those which he fathered, were occult, supersensual, irrational; they were a revelation of mysterious energy like that of the Cross; they were what, in terms of mediæval science, were called immediate modes of the divine substance.
Is this referring to spiritual energy?.. The divine, super-sensual, occult, irrational, all make me think of a power greater than what is tangible. Terminology such as occult brings up thoughts of paganism or witchery, yet the other words have a more positive connotation. Is Adams headed in the direction towards more unconventional belief systems? Am I completely off?
Nothing in education is so astonishing as the amount of ignorance it accumulates in the form of inert facts
This seems to be and was the first thing I could grasp while knowing nothing about the text. It stands alone very well. I think there’s a lot to break down here
Out of creosote, gasoline, drive shafts, wooden dollies
The entirety of the poem seems relevant to class issues (upper vs. lower/working class. The repetition of industrial jargon speaks to the working class side of this poem. Syntactically speaking, the asyndeton creates a sense of exhaustion while reading, metaphorically relating to the physical and mental exhaustion of the demographic.