If We Must Die

If we must die, let it not be like hogs
Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot,
While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,
Making their mock at our accurséd lot.
If we must die, O let us nobly die,
So that our precious blood may not be shed
In vain; then even the monsters we defy
Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!
O, kinsmen! we must meet the common foe!
Though far outnumbered let us show us brave,
And for their thousand blows deal one death-blow!
What though before us lies the open grave?
Like men we'll face the murderous, cowardly pack,
Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!

by Claude McKay

"If we must die" takes liberties with iambic pentameter, but they are slight. Look at the 2nd line--that's in 3, really. (musical shortcut, like 3/4 time instead of 2/4, which is iambic pentameter,...sorta. I wanna teach a poetry class to musicians!) The 4th line does that too, so there is consistency in the pattern. Likewise, the next to last line is more than 10 syllables--depending on how you say them. It's straight iambic pentameter then. Notice that the last line messes up the rhythm, too, for effect. Emphasizing dying and fighting back, so the rhythm emphasizes the meaning--which should be what rhythm does.

His tone is strong, defiant--rythym and word choice work together to create that.

The language in this is interesting, too--notice the juxtaposition between the "dying like hogs"--very common, degrading, coarse image, and the exalted imagery and language--"the monsters we defy," "nobly die" constrained, kinsmen, foe--words used very sincerely to paint an image of heroism to counter the "dying like hogs."

When talking about poetry, the speaker and the tone are important. For analysis purposes, the speaker is not the poet personally, even if it's first person. Obviously, sometimes there's an excpetion to this.

Ok--you probably saw all that and knew all that and wonder if that's all there is to talking about poetry. Yes. Throw in a couple allusions to T S Eliot or Ezra Pound and you've got a PhD! I'm just warming up!

Next on the Hit Parade: Dylan Thomas

For now, I've said everything I want to about Hughes, and I'm in a Dylan Thomas kind of mood. As much as I like "Fern Hill," that's not the one that's been bouncing around my head. So, the next poem I'm dissecting just to show I can is

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

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.

Hear Dylan Thomas read it by clicking on this sentence.

Dinner Guest, Second Entry

Social screeds or political poems often are pedantic. I'd name some to prove my point, but can't off the top of my head--later, I'll try to prove it. However, this "Dinner Guest" makes an important point about society in a friendly, humorous manner. Sure, the imagery is part of that, as is the setting, but the tone is established in large part by his use of rhythm and rhyme.

The rhythm is fast, with either 2 or 3 hard beats per line. There's a pattern, but it's not obvious or regular. It sounds breezy, unconcerned, not ponderous or preachy. The rhyme is simplistic--dined/mind, way/USA, night/white--and irregular, keeping the poem from becoming sing songy or nursey rhyme-ish. The commonness of the rhyming words enhances the breezy tone, but it's deceptive; hints of hoity-toity culture seep in, with "damask" and "fraises du bois." The speaker in the poem (which may or may not be based on Hughes) is common folk, using common language, but he can make small talk with the white liberals who are demurely probing their guest, the mouthpiece of all African-Americans, so they can understand "The Negro Problem."

The language sets a tone that is gently ironic, poking fun not only at the hosts but also at the guest, who acknowledges that he's enjoying his moment of fame as he sips his wine and nibbles the lobster. Even the ending twist, where the guest acknowledges that the whole evening is just a way of passing time, with no serious intent to address the issue, keeps with the light toned rhythm and rhyme even as a pointed bard sticks through the words.

Rhythm and rhyme create a tone that sets the scene and draws the reader into consideration of potentially uneasy questions with an inviting lilt. "Dinner Guest" is strong proof that social commentary can be poetic and incisive while still making important points.

Dinner Guest, First Entry

Below is a poem by Langston Hughes. Probably every school child reads his sweet poem that claims life without dreams is a broken-winged bird, and probably every child has shared his/her dreams as the teacher and students applude and encourage, admonishing children that they don't want to be broken-winged birds, so reach for the stars....aren't we all happy and inspired?

If that's all you remember of Hughes, you've missed the good stuff. He can be pointedly witty, damningly angry. He tells the Truth about life as he saw it, and creates striking characters to carry the message.

Should poetry have a political message? Of course--when it can do it and still use poetic language and imagery. This poem is as witty as Dorothy Parker's writing, in ways, even drawing on the same high society backdrop she uses. But...even as Hughes evokes the imagery of rich New York entertainment, with lobster and wine, he ends with a gentle observation that no one really wants to solve the "Negro Problem;" it's just small talk, almost creating a confessional ambiance with the whole "I'm so ashamed of being white" line. Instead of Hail Mary's, though, they get break bread with the wronged party, who has become the voice of his race. The poem ends more ironic than bitter, admitting that it's good to be on Park Avenue even though "the Problem" lingers.

Hughes died in the late 60's, after years of fiction and poetry that was widely read. As I watch the talk shows and news programs, with a burgeoning variety of black spokesmen speaking about the way Obama's presidency changes the status of blacks in America, I wonder...are all those interviewers and hosts simply the new version of the dinner party? Could be...

Dinner Guest: Me, by Langston Hughes

I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind Which seeks demurely To Probe in polite way The why and wherewithal Of darkness U.S.A.— Wondering how things got this way In current democratic night, Murmuring gently Over fraises du bois, "I'm so ashamed of being white." The lobster is delicious, The wine divine, And center of attention At the damask table, mine. To be a Problem on Park Avenue at eight Is not so bad. Solutions to the Problem, Of course, wait.

Fallacy One: A poem/story can mean anything you want it to mean

No. It can't. It's that simple.

However, there's also not one exact meaning for most creative writing, and a person with different insight or knowledge may extract a different layer of meaning from a piece than I would based on my knowledge and background.

For instance, when Alice follows the White Rabbit down the hole, the White Rabbit could symbolize many different things: white, purity and Rabbit, close in spelling to Rabbi--could this be heralding a religious experience? Maybe, but what other evidence supports that theory. Or, white rabbit could symbolize nature, she's leaving civilization to follow the wild, untamed side of her. Can that be supported?

Or White like cocaine? Or some other popular drug when Lewis Carroll was writing? Could the White Rabbit symbolize a pusher?

And so on...

But suggesting that the White Rabbit is Aaron Burr and the story is an allegory about the founding of America, no. (Not that anyone's tried that, as far as I know). Or that Alice is projecting her Electra complex onto the White rabbit, again, no. Literature can't mean just anything.

Similarly, I thought I understood Hunter Thompson's writings, then I was talking about them with someone who had a much more....extensive, I'll say...knowledge of street drugs. All the sudden, imagery was explained so that I found out what was really happening in a scene. I thought I'd understood it before, and I had, but only on one level. The deeper meaning added a great deal to the text.

If I wrote a story and named a character "Paul," there are many possible hidden meanings:

• St. Paul. If I used it in this context, I'd probably creating a preachy, self-righteous character who has firm values (that I find misguided!) He might be the 2nd wave of a situation, or someone who had a blinding realization. Those types of evidence would prove the character was named after St. Paul.
  
• Paul McCartney. A character with soulful eyes, glib, sentimental, musical, creative, all those could be traits proving I was going for a McCartney subtext. Or it could be a character who is the lonely last of a realm, to take a different tact (yea, I know Ringo's alive. Still. Creative license)
  
• Paul Wellstone. One of my all time favorite politicians. I'd be making a point about the character's motives and ethics, probably.
• Paul my 10th grade boyfriend. If he was the genesis of the character, it would be an anti-intellectual character, one who doesn't think girls need to go to college. And related ideas. Rural, traditional. Lots of flannel shirts!
  

I think I put those in order of how likely a reader would be to pick up on the meaning. If a St. Paul subtext is intended, it's reasonable to think readers--especially well read ones--would at least catch a hint of it. My ex-boyfriend, though,...you'd have to be a serious student of JJ biography to catch that. And that's assuming I didn't do something cute like call him Pablo or make him charming (that would throw people off!) or use his middle name (Michael) instead.

But if I named a character Paul, and the name seemed symbolically important, there are limits to what it might mean. It wouldn't mean "Don't eat tuna because they kill dolphins."

With literature, showing the causal link between text and meaning is crucial, just like in math. A word or action can't mean what you want it to mean just because you say it does. Connecting the ideas through a reasonably logical explanation of causation is important. And fun!

My Header

I could see if anyone is reading by turning this into a quiz, but I'll make it simple:
The pictures in my header are of writers whose writing influences and inspires me--it's not a complete list, of course, but a sampling.

Top Row: Louisa May Alcott, George Carlin, Langston Hughes, Larry Gelbart, and Emily Dickinson

Bottom Row: Kurt Vonnegut, Anne Lamott, Pat Conroy, Allen Ginsberg, Joss Whedon.

I'm crossing time periods, genres and medium. I expect to chat about everything from classic poetry to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, all while using impressive English-teacher-ese.