Reminds me of the end of Zora Hurston's "Their Eyes Were Watching God"

What can one say, Sterling Brown nailed it.

There seems a natural crescendo to the poem, much like a powerful song. I think Hughes likely revered this poem. The refrain: "The strong men keep a-comin' on, The strong men git stronger," keeps the rhythm and blues-spiritual aesthetic present while Brown's inclusion of various other slave songs gives a haunting power to the verses, and evokes the profoundly tragic and harrowing realities of slavery.

This passage struck me in that it seems like a church scene, yet the aesthetic is very much of the blues. Certainly, gospel music and the blues influence each other in complex ways. I would confidently argue that there is spirituality in the blues, and there is blues in spirituality. Yet, as certain historically was the position of blues music as going against god, Robert Johnson selling his soul at the crossroads being the most archetypal example. I find the language of the final line of the stanza to be beautiful. "An' Long Boy ripples minors on de black an' yellow keys" seems a perfect way to depict blues piano.

A beautiful sentence, and central to a concept that Hughes often wrote about, that of laughing to keep from crying. Also reminiscent of Zora Neal Hurston's fantastic essay, "How It Feels To Be Colored Me."

Very reminiscent of Du Bois. Hughes uses a mountain for metaphor as opposed to a veil to evoke the feelings of African American double-consciousness. Evoking feelings perhaps less psychologically complex but more physically imposing, daunting, and existentially disconcerting. Of course, heroically, Hughes finishes the essay with "we stand on top of the mountain, free within ourselves"

In his autobiography, The Big Sea, Hughes writes about his father whom he travels to Mexico to spend time with for the first time as a teenager. Hughes writes:

"My father hated Negroes. I think he hated himself, too, for being a Negro. He disliked all of his family because they were Negroes and remained in the United States, where none of them had the chance to be much of anything except servants"

Hughes relationship with his father was inevitably estranged after a couple of summers, and I think his father's fierce condemnation of African Americans scarred him and is present in the "Racial Mountain" essay. Also, as a brief side note, another powerful aspect of the Hughes' autobiography is that there is a few instances in his life where potent discrimination and tragically racist attacks on his work cause him to become physically and seriously ill.

Personally I find this ironic as Stein acts out the inverse of poetically expressing "exceptional considerations", and yes I am using this ambiguous line to express my own vexation against the poem. It is a pure free verse "avant garde" nonsensical torture device, intent on inflicting bewilderment and psychological pain on any hopeful reader. That said, I mean no disrespect to any that enjoyed it.

A comma?! So few in this poem. And I agree with the above insight that perhaps this is Stein momentarily reflecting on the act of writing the poem, and where/when/if it will end.

Neither the first "nor" far from the last time Stein screws with the rhythm, structure, syntax of a sentence or line or element of the poem. When reading it aloud the lack of break between the first "obey" and "I do" changes the effect of the second half of the line.

Williams ends the poem succinctly yet its difficult to discern precision. Why would "the car" be a symbol of the "something given off"? Or is it that we are driving "the car" instead of "witnessing" and "adjusting"? Are we distracted in always moving forward like in driving a car? Is the car Williams symbol of modernity and of his reaction modernist poetry?

Reminiscent of "so much depends upon a red wheel barrow", so much can be said with so little. And like Pounds, "In a station", the poem focuses on the thing, the moment. As if something so specific as eating a plum can describe elements of human experience in general. The process of enjoying the "sweet" and "cold" plum captured in so simple and elegant a way. And not without observing the transgression of eating the fruit despite it being somewhat "forbidden". I don't believe the poem to biblical in nature, but perhaps Williams entertained the allusion.

On the whole the poem seems to be a reflection on some dark elements of America, most specifically the "degradation" of humanity as "products of America". Specifically "devil-may-care men", "young slatterns", and "some Elsie". Williams laments the baseness of our products, conceding that only in "isolate flecks that something is given off". The line here, "as if the earth.....", simply jumped off the page and punched me in the face with it's transparent power. Literally interpreted, this world is shit and we are destined to eat it. Yet I believe Williams expresses this only to acknowledge and not accept while striving towards a more enlightened and communal consciousness.

Tis' certainly a challenging final line. Again evoking a sense of futility, a meaningless or powerlessness in speech. As if our mortal mouths cannot utter understanding of the unknown power. Yet, the final "I know", is perhaps an understanding. A "knowing" that in futility there is truth, or at least humility. Also, the sea is symbolic of a sense of sublimity that in combination with the feeling of human frailty leads one to musings of divinity. Or maybe this is all a stretch.

To me, the poem seems to be a reflection on mortality, with an underlying sense of futility. It is also in recognition of a power separate from "heaven", responsible for digging the "doughty" man's grave with lever and spade. Reminds me of a Bob Dylan tune: "He was only a hobo but one more is gone, leavin nobody to sing his sad song"

"Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" -Alfred Lord Tennyson

A rich and puzzling line. To me the language throughout the poem evokes feelings of serenity and contemplation in the mind of the narrator while observing "woods on a snowy evening". The "woods are lovely, dark and deep" and the opposite of the village and the town and the representations of a growing society. Perhaps the speaker is acknowledging the serenity of the snowy woods, and envisions his life coming to an end in such a place. Yet, he has "promises to keep", perhaps familial or professional obligations. And "miles to go before sleep", maybe the road not yet travelled compels the narrator still.

Taking "the road less traveled" has become so ingrained in my defense of some of my more notable life choices. To me, it is the belief in the value of individuality over conformity. It is the road less certain, and thus more adventurous, more unique. Still, there will always be paradox in choosing one path over the other. One can never be certain which of the paths offers more reward,(material, spiritual, or otherwise), as we can only see so far ahead.

Interesting poem. Driven to me by the line that is twice repeated: "Something there is that doesn't love a wall". Frost seems to be examining the human practice of separation, exclusion, division, while "something" perhaps more powerful subverts and undermines our differences, that "sends the frozen-ground-swell under it And spills the upper boulder in the sun". The narrator's question here about his previous disposition before building the wall is I think noteworthy, indeed now more than ever. Walls in their nature divide, and to me Frost is criticizing their invention, and proposing something deeper and more powerful "wants it down". Also I am reminded of August Wilson's play Fences: "Some people build fences to keep people out and other people build fences to keep people in"

Quite a different point of view than "Seth Compton", "Lucinda Matlock" speaks with pride, conviction, and unwavering vitality, although not without some criticism of the younger generations. Indeed, she makes but a footnote of her on death.: "I had lived enough, that is all". In other words Grandma ain't got no time for excuses. This poem seems to me an effort by Masters to depict the optimistic, courageous, and no-nonsense character of the American identity and spirit. As if to say, we make our own way, and appreciation of the majesty of life is within our power, and is all that we are meant to experience.

"Seth Compton" speaks with discontent and disdain for the inconsiderate public who in the speaker's mind intend to censor or suppress works deemed "unpleasant", "dark", or investigating of evils. Reminds me of the film Pleasantville.

Such a sad poem. Yet, a moving portrait of a man despondent and alone. None of us are free from mortality, we all deal in different ways. Without speculating on the shame or loss that would now keep "many doors" shut from Eban, the poem evokes feelings not unlike the blues aesthetic, nor the melancholy wanderer.

To me, Eben Flood is truly forlorn, and perhaps dying. At the very least melancholy enough to create a drinking buddy and "drink to the bird". While I write this, however, I think the bird is not a trivial thing to acknowledge with a toast. Especially a bird in flight as according to google the idiom refers. Also, I couldn't help but think of Leonard Cohen's "Bird on a Wire".

The consistent usage of "the shadow" to describe elements of Black "double consciousness" in America masterfully conveys the mysterious and omnipresent hardships sustained in Du Bois' view. Du Bois comments that men "learnedly explain" the nature of prejudice, and thus are aligned against it. Yet in this selected sentence, Du Bois describes the dire reality of facing "so vast a prejudice". To this day, shamefully, "the shadow" of prejudice still darkens a blue sky.

This of Du Bois initial statements seems to parallel with the type of irony discussed in Thursday's class in regards to the Adams chapter. Like Adams, Du Bois' seems to be recognizing the inherent fallacy of pursuing excellence and meaning in "their" world. Achievements became meaningless, as did the contempt which compelled his steadfast individual drive. That the "fine contempt began to fade", that the "dazzling opportunities, were theirs, not mine", evokes feelings of disillusionment and alienation, again similar to Adams. However, although the two seem describing a similar emotional and psychological realization, Adams existential woe came in the wake of unbounding technology, while Du Bois perspective is rooted in being Black in America. Different subjects indeed, but intriguing to contemplate parallels.

Adams contemplations on the relationship between the Dynamo and The Virgin are fascinating, albeit it difficult to draw "concrete" parallels between the units of "force" Adams concedes to both.

First of all, what a sentence. Secondly, it is difficult to me to discern precisely what is meant by the "break of continuity" between the dynamo and engine-house. Is it the nature of difference "between" the two inventions themselves? As in the profound leap between steam and electricity? Or simply that they both exist, are separately exceptional and in combination result in the "abysmal fracture for a historian's objects". Either way the effect is harrowing, and describes a fragmenting of Adam's firm constitution, his knowledge. His "objects" seem to me to be his accumulation of facts, of absolutes, of truths. In the presence of these "astonishing" progressions and a "symbol of infinity", Adams sustains a complete loss of control.

Followed by the "destructive electric tram" and the "terrible locomotive steam-engine", the language designated to industrial automotive progress is fear stricken. Perhaps not without awe.

Brings to mind not only questions of alienation and powerlessness, in regards to the hardened tone of "West Virginia to Kiss My Ass", but perhaps political undertones as well. Levine could be alluding to the naming of towns, cities and states and the pride associated with the places people gather, claim ownership of, and defend.