Sitwell “Still Falls the Rain”

“Still Falls the Rain” by Edith Sitwell contains vivid imagery that is rather depressing but at the end it leaves you with a positive outlook.  The poem is composed of seven stanzas, with the first six starting with the line “Still falls the rain—”.  However the seventh stanza does not start with that line which I think is a crucial aspect of the poem.  The rain can be thought of as the bombs from the air raids the German used against the British during WWII.  The whole poem has a religious undertone that’s slowly builds up to the end, where the last stanza gives the reader from an escape from the rain / bombs that has been in every other stanza.  The last stanza beings with “Then sounds the voice of One who was like the heart of man / Was once a child who among beasts was lain —”, which is a nice break from all of the imagery of war and suffering.  The “One” is Jesus, which can be told from the capital O, and it is him that is heard as opposed to the awful sounds of the bombs or the air raid sirens. Sitwell is saying that Jesus was once an innocent baby that was born among all of the sinners who are these “beasts” and he was send down from heaven to die for their sins.  She is also saying that just like Jesus everyone was also innocent, because everyone was once a child, but the beasts can influence and change a person.  However the last line of the poem offers wraps up that last stanza by giving the reader some hope amidst all of the gloom in the rest of the poem.  The last line shows that Jesus still will die for out sins in order to make the world a better place.

One line of the poem I did not understand was in the first stanza, “Blind as the nineteen hundred and forty nails / Upon the Cross”.  I am confused of where Sitwell comes up with the number nineteen hundred and forty.  I might be missing something because I was considering it the year that the poem was written, but the Norton says it was written in 1942.  I know the cross that Sitwell is walking about is the cross that Jesus was crucified on but it almost always has three nails in it, one for each wrist and one for the feet.  I also do not know why Sitwell used the simile blind to describe the nails in the cross either.  Perhaps it is because bombs that the Germans were dropping were blindly being dropped onto innocent civilians and that Jesus was innocent but he died for out sins, just like the civilians died.

-Daniel Pietaro

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock is an interesting poem, to say the least. Before even beginning the poem, the reader would think that the title is rather suggestive. It may be assumed that the title character, Prufrock would perhaps be professing his love for a special someone, however, the opening of the poem strays the reader from this idea. Instead, the reader is asked to go for a walk through the not so nice area of the town, complete with yellow fog which only makes the setting and atmosphere (and premise of this poem) that much more gloomy and eerie. The speaker does mention that there will be an important question to be answered along the way, leaving the reader intrigued to carry on.

A huge element of this poem is that of “time.” It seems that Prufrock has all the time to dawdle and delay—especially in regards to asking the reader (or his lover?) an important question. In the meantime though, he has no qualms about walking through the streets of fog and smoke or how he plans on getting things done “before toast and tea.” This whole time manipulation got me thinking—is Prufrock perhaps afraid of someone or something? Is there a reason he is rather avoidant? He has no problem analyzing the woman he sees, (i.e. how they speak about Renaissance art and Michelangelo) and yet his own personal analysis is rather interesting being that he describes himself as being very thin and having bald spots. Is his self-loathing and dawdling a defense mechanism of some sort? He says “There will be time, there will be time /To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;”-is this extra time for his lover? To prepare herself and her face? Or is it for him to ready himself and make himself into the man he does not seem to think he is? Nevertheless, Prufrock seems to be hiding something. He is lagging in telling or asking the reader something all through the first half of the poem. Finally around line 80 there may be a chance for progress, “Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?” in that it seems Prufrock is working and warming up to asking the audience his question, but in true form, he is wary. But of course, just when the reader thinks Prufrock is about to ask, he retreats again (around line 87) as if the opportunity to ask the reader has already passed. At this point of the poem I’m not going to lie, I got a bit angry-90 lines in seems like a bit of a stretch to me to hold the reader on. At this rate I just wanted to know what the question was and if in fact he’d ever ask it. As the poem continues on it may be inferred that time passes as well and that Prufrock has missed his chance in asking his question. He was too nervous and overanalyzed the what-ifs and worst case scenarios, he has, “grow old … I grow old …I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.”

I have to say the ending of this poem really threw me. First, I have to say I was disappointed in that the entire poem was a build up to only be left with nothing. Prufrock was introduced as a coward and that shell was never shed. Secondly, the whole mermaid-plot is a little eyebrow raising. Now, I realize that time passes through this poem but does that mean that Prufrock’s sanity went a bit? He couldn’t have actually spotted mermaids…right? The moral of this poem may be this: don’t let time pass you by—the missed opportunities may drive you to madness. (Now, isn’t that a little depressing?). Way to go Prufrock.

"Church going" - Philip Larkin

Fortunately, this poem actually put me in a better mood than the last one. I found myself laughing at some of the lines because they remind me of exactly what I noticed when I attended church. Although I don't visit as frequently as I used too, if you go to church, you know that it is a completely different experience going when there is no mass being held. The silence is scary, and even your footsteps echo as you walk down the isle. As a family tradition, every time we go on vacation, we visit the local church in the area to say a prayer. One line that I liked in particular was, "Another church: matting, seats, and stone." This line amused me because it is very true. No matter what church you walk into, all have some of the same characteristics. It is almost comforting in a way. If you go to church a lot, it could almost be like a home away from home. In addition to that, he mentioned.. "Up at the holy end, the small neat organ." First of all.. hahahaha to the "holy end" comment. I thought it was hysterical that he described the alter this way. I guess it makes sense completely, but I still think it way very funny that he called it that. In the first paragraph, in addition to the many lines that made me laugh, "And a tense, musty, unignorable silence." The reason I liked this line so much is because I can relate to it greatly. Every time I walk into the church, the atmosphere makes me tense up. I know that it is a relaxing and holy place, but for some reason.. it might just be that musty smell.. I am always noticing my hands sweating and my posture straightening. Overall, I really enjoyed reading Larkin's poem not only because I could relate to it, but it made me think about churchs differently. "When churches fall completely out of use, what shall we turn them into." Ive seen old Wawas being turned into dentist's offices and stuff like that, but what can you turn a church into after it is done being used? That question is unanswerable for me, but I think that a place so holy should be kept just the way it is. Also, I thought the last line of this poem was interesting as well. "Which, he once heard, was proper to grow wise in. If only that so many dead lie round. Thats kinda cool to think of it like that.. isn't it? I don't think this poem was meant to be funny, but I guess theres no harm in me finding it quite hysterical. :P

Just to appreciate churchs a little, I think this is the most beautiful one of all. The Basilica!

"Still Falls the Rain" - even though it finally stopped falling here!

I was reading this poem while listening to the raindrops pounding hard on my roof. I was thinking, would it ever stop? It rained for like two days straight and honestly it put me in a pretty grumpy mood. I thought it was very appropriate time to read this poem, but actually it just made my mood even more depressed. "Still falls the rain- Dark as the world of men, black as our loss-" In these first lines, it is evident that the author, Edith Sitwell was trying to convey a dark mood. While reading, I felt it was the word choices that Sitwell used that made this poem sound so sad, but then I realized that maybe this poem wasn't all so negative. I tried to reason with myself and make the line "Still the rain falls" more positive. Maybe it is a good thing that the rain is still falling, because rain water is good for life right? But, I just could not shake my bad mood, and that was for a reason. Sitwell is describing the horrors of war in this poem, and by the repeated line.. "Still falls the rain", she is making her point that the war and the bad things that come with it are still happening. One thing I liked about this poem though was the fact that she didn't try to hid religion. I feel like with many of the poems we read before it was evident that they were referring to the bible, but they did it in ways where it wasn't directly stated. Here, although she mentions the "Potter's Field" most of her religious references very stated blatantly. She used word such as "cross," "tomb," and "the brow of Cain."  All of these religious references made me think that maybe Sitwell thought that all the terrors of the war could be stopped if there was a larger religious presence in the world. I can't say I disagree with her. Anything to make the rain stop falling! 

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

     Even though this is already one of my favorite poems, I definitely saw things a second time around that I hadn't before. I really paid attention to the introduction in Norton, not only because T.S. Eliot is my favorite poet, but because I really wanted to see just how much I missed the first few times I read Prufrock. I noticed that overall, the poem was a reflection of Eliot's disproval of the Romanticist idea of self-indulgence. It kinda makes sense, because of all the self-loathing he does throughout the work. Prufrock mentions his bald spots multiple times, his skinny limbs, even going so far as to say the mermaid's whose voices he used to hear won't sing to him any longer. His regard for self-intellect vs self-indulgence is present in that much of the time, he is analyzing things from an almost scientific perspective, claiming that he “known already” many different things, or has “formulated” others. He is very indecisive and hesitant, and since he has known and seen so many things already as stated in the poem, maybe this is grounds for why he feels he doesn't need to make any immediate decisions or take any risks.

     Prufrock also manipulates time frequently, the reason to me being so he can avoid the reveal of his true inner self. Many of the actions that take place in the poem are described as past events or as happening in the future. The fact that he is never really describing things as happening now, shows the passiveness of his character. He keeps repeating how he has seen all these things, and done all these things, yet when it comes down to doing things in the now, he just chooses to “turn back and descend the stair.” He spends so much time contemplating time that he doesn't realize time has passed. Prufrock looks toward the future by planning to get things done “before toast and tea” (“there will be time”), yet, he wastes a whole entire stanza talking about yellow fog and smoke, and then tries to justify that wasted time instead of telling the reader the question that has been on his mind the whole time. His repetition of “there will be time” so many times in the poem tells me that he is not very convinced himself that he has as much time to dawdle as he is making it seem. I find it ironic that he is not comfortable with being analyzed or studied himself, (And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin, When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,) yet he spends so much time analyzing the pieces of others, whether that be white hair, bracelets on arms, eyes, etc. He continues to self-loathe, claiming that “I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker” in order to avoid the introspection that is required to ask the question that is on his mind. The only thing that is ever revealed about his personality is in line 86 when he reveals that he is afraid. Other than that, he chooses to focus on superficial aspects such as his clothing to make up for this.

     I can't fail to mention all the Dante references...another one of my favorite books. This might be a stretch, but Prufrock's character kind of reminds me of Guido in Dante. The significance of Dante is presented in the beginning, with the direct quote translating to:

“If I thought that my reply would be to one who would ever return to the world, this flame would stay without further movement; but since none has ever returned alive from this depth, if what I hear is true, I answer you without fear of infamy.”

    Guido tells his shame to Dante because he believes Dante will never make it out of Hell alive to tell everyone of Guido's wrongs. Guido knows no one has ever made it out alive, so his story will be confined to one place and no one will ever think less of him. So, Guido chose to tell Dante his story specifically because he valued his reputation so much. Even though Prufrock is self-loathing, his comment on his nice clothing hints at his value of superficiality and reputation as well. The scenery described, and the fact that the same actions are being performed repeatedly (In the room the women come and go, talking of Michelangelo) makes me think that this is Prufrock's idea of his own personal, monotonous hell that is seen in Dante's Inferno. When he mentions the footman holding the coat, it seems as if he is about to enter a place he might not come out of again, (hi again Dante and Hell), but could also be reflective of how he feels about proposing the question he wants to ask, aka point of no return/anxiety about asking that question. Prufrock is always mentioning fragments of human beings (arms, eyes, bald spots), which could also be reflective of him not wanting to reveal the question or the entirety of true self. He pays so much attention to clothing, even sea girls are wreathed with seaweed, arms are in bracelets. These are all ways to digress from the actual self. I think this accurately displays T.S Eliot's disproval of self-indulgence and Prufrock's fear of being studied as well as Guido's value of reputation in Dante.

     However, what strikes me the most is that the poem begins in the future, but ends in the past. So did time ever really pass at all or was it all just a dream?

The Second Coming is your worst nightmare actualizing irl

Throughout his life, Yeats united the people of Ireland through a sense of nationalism, the only thing he believed was more pervasive than religion. None of his accomplishments in art or the history of Ireland discount his insanity. I definitely think Yeats was insane. It probably helped him. I mean, if you don’t believe in visions, you’re not going to believe you’ve had a vision when you actually have a vision, are you? No, you’re not. You need to be insane.

Ireland was an imagined nation held together by thinkers and writers. Yeats worked with Lady Gregory at the turn of the 20^th century to found the Irish Theatre, and in turn, created an outlet for representations of Irishness that provided the Irish a source of cultural relevance and significance as a people. To do this, Yeats used myth as a vehicle for the cause. He returned to tradition, the Irish language, and stories of Irish myth - spirits claiming children and returning changelings in their place. He wrote lots of essays on nationality, Irishness, and what should or should not be included as part of Irish Theatre. Cathleen Ni Houlihan was early 1900, and whatever success it had made Yeats fear that maybe he influenced the people of Ireland to fight for a cause that was only doomed from the start. 

I’m not summarizing well. But it doesn’t need to be. What needs to be understood is that Ireland was unstable for hundreds of years, and Yeats cared about Ireland. Yeats grew up amidst national frustration, as part of a people whose identity had been taken from them, shucked of casing, and returned a shameful reduction of the whole.

Ireland wasn’t a free state until 1922. WWI ended in November 1918. The Second Coming was written in January 1919. This context is important. More important than what I rambled off as an introduction, really. For centuries, the people of Ireland wanted independence from England, and from 1797 to 1921, they were denied, berated, persecuted, and murdered.

The Second Coming isn’t really about any of that. Though you could argue that a people's frustration building and building over centuries waiting for change is somehow echoed here, and that a central point (falconer) losing control of a secondary entity (falcon) relates heavily to England losing control of Ireland. 

The Second Coming speaks to the coming of an unknown thing. Perhaps it’s the revolution Ireland always wanted; perhaps it’s the arrival of the apocalypse. Whatever it is, it appears to be the culmination of a cycle, and the narrator only knows about it because he had a vision.

In the first stanza, the gyre is widening. Don’t get confused with the language. The first stanza is pretty vague and symbolic. Think of a coil expanding upwards and outwards creating the shape of a cone, the cone getting wider and wider as it rises. Now imagine a falcon taking flight from a central point, winding upwards. The falcon leaving the falconer’s hand from a central point, and the falcon slowly flying higher and farther from the falconers’ command. When command is unheard, the controlling center is more or less nonexistent to the falcon: ”Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.” This disintegration triggers a succession of images: a tide of blood, the drowning of innocence, the best lacking conviction, the worst having passion.

The second stanza is incredibly foreboding. “The Second Coming” is repeated three times as a positive/exciting force, potentially indicative of a revelation, but this is quickly extinguished by the identification of some vague terror in the narrator’s mind.

It’s a vision of a pitiless form rising from the sand, a human head atop an animal form, Sphinx-like but unspecified. Birds circle the form. Their shadows are dark and indignant - annoyed or as if having been treated unfairly. These birds are vultures, and instead of spiraling up as the falcon does at the outset of the poem, they would spiral down around the rough beast, acting as scavengers, subsisting on the remains, or the destruction of something else. The darkness returns, and the vision is over. But the narrator KNOWS something now. Even though the line ends ambiguously with a question mark, the narrator is certain from the vision that something is about to occur. A rough beast has been waiting, and its time is now. In its wake there will be destruction and death, as indicated by the vultures. But what is the rough beast? And why is there so much vague religious imagery? Why does Yeats leave so much uncertain? What happened to the poet as prophet? Don’t leave us with more questions WB!

Well, I’m not sure of anything, but what I do know is that Yeats was witnessing the world destroying itself. He did not feel good about where things were headed in light of WWI, but he didn’t know whatever was about to occur was good or bad.

I don’t think “The Second Coming” has everything to do with the Irish gaining independence. I think it’s too vague for that, and I think it’s lack of specificity was intended. I think it’s a generalized view of the destruction, of things falling apart as a perhaps necessary thing that eventually occurs - something more universally affecting. But a cool view is of the vultures being indignant, representing the Irish, having been wronged by England for centuries, circling above while the beast exacts revenge.

Dulce et Decorum est (Sweet and fitting it is) that Jackie finally posts on the right poem...

Just realized I totally posted on the wrong poem....again. It'd be nice if I could get my life together, but that'd be too much to ask for, right?

So seeing as I signed up to write about Dulce et Decorum est and probably confused everyone because we're not doing Prufrock until after the break...

So I translated Dulce et Decorum Est and what I got was "Sweet and fitting it is."And at first that struck me as super odd, because the poem is about these poor soldiers, dirty and dying. What is sweet and fitting about that? In any sense at all? And then I got to the end and saw that I had another thing to translate. "Ducle et Decorum est pro patria mori" means "sweet and fitting it is to die for one's country."He calls it a lie. I realized that he was trying to use it as anti-propaganda. He says that everyone is telling the children stories of the war and calling for more war, calling these people heroes and saying that they got to die in these glorious ways. 

But it did not sound like anyone was dying in any sort of wonderful, glorifying way. These men are exhausted and headed home after a fight, when war hits them yet again in the form of gas bombs or something along those lines. And then this soldier watches his comrade die and can't get the image out of his head. Owen wrote this poem to try and tell people that they have not seen the war, so they don't actually know what war is like. They have not been on the battlefields, watching men with not enough supplies and struggling to stay alive. They have not seen the wounded and the dying. And yet they keep trying to encourage people that war was a good thing and that they should give up their lives for the sake of the war.

It's true; every word of this poem is true. War is not this glorious thing and it certainly is not the only answer to problems. But at the same time, its not so easy as to just tell people not to call for war. Just because your country doesn't call for war doesn't mean another country is just going to say "well, you're right, let's just go get some froyo and call it a compromise." We glorify these stories because we want these men to be remembered as these glorious people. Even if they died alone on a battlefield, not because they saved someone from a bomb or because they were even part of the fighting at all, they still put themselves out on that field to die for their country. I know he's saying its not sweet and fitting to die for your country, but I didn't think that was the point of the saying. Its the fact that these men have so much love for their country that they are willing to die is so sweet and fitting. So, while I entirely agree that the call for war is never the answer, I disagree that we shouldn't glorify these men. It is entirely awful that they have to die like that, but it is still beautiful that they are willing to try for their country like that. 

But maybe thats just me. Alright, back to this god forsaken paper again. Sorry for the confusion. See ya'll tomorrow!