"Birches" has many similarities to Elizabeth Bishop's ode to the aquatic warrior, and even more profound differences. They both are, on the surface, themed with praises towards the nature which surrounds them. Both writers shine a light on the hidden side of their immediate surroundings. When Bishop does it, the metaphores slowly evolve into praise for the found creature. However, Frost's approach is more stream-of-conciousness than anything else. So much so, that when he finds himself getting too literal, he stops and notes it.
Just as when, in my last posting, I noted the fact that I was blogging, Frost references his less metaphorical/more literal moment as "when Truth broke in with all her matter-of-fact". Not only does he find an entertaining way to segue back to his previous thought patterns, but he does it with such grace and affection for the digression. Not only does he refer to Truth as a woman, but he capitalizes the "T" to match. This, is true poetry. Well......it IS Robert Frost!!
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
The Fish by Elizabeth Bishop
The imagery of this poem strikes me as a respectful combination of both human and fish-world viewpoints. At one point Bishop refers to the shallow, metallic eyes of her new companion. As seen from our perspective, fish eyes are typically of that nature. At another point she recognizes the "terrible" oxygen which is presumably causing the fish great pain to endure.
Similar descriptions throughout culminate in the realization of the age, power, and "wisdom" of this creature. He's a survivor. A war vet. A real trooper. After coming to terms with her victory, she naturally let's him go. On the surface this seems like the only right thing to do. The intent to bag a catch, in this situation, falls aside in light of such circumstances.
However, after re-reading the piece for the sake of this blog entry (uh oh, I'm breaking the third wall) I noticed the option to hear the poem read by miss Elizabeth Bishop herself. I was surprised at the matter-of-fact tone of her voice. It was less like a reading of a piece of poetic literature, more like reading a caption beneath a photo. When she got down to the final line, in which she lets the big guy go, I was surprised yet again. This time by the emphasis Bishop herself puts on the individual words. My mind, seeing the release of the aquatic veteran as the only logical choice, was surprised to hear her emphasize the word "I". As in "I did, you wouldn't."
It seems the unasked question is not "Wouldn't you?", but is rather "Would you not?"
Similar descriptions throughout culminate in the realization of the age, power, and "wisdom" of this creature. He's a survivor. A war vet. A real trooper. After coming to terms with her victory, she naturally let's him go. On the surface this seems like the only right thing to do. The intent to bag a catch, in this situation, falls aside in light of such circumstances.
However, after re-reading the piece for the sake of this blog entry (uh oh, I'm breaking the third wall) I noticed the option to hear the poem read by miss Elizabeth Bishop herself. I was surprised at the matter-of-fact tone of her voice. It was less like a reading of a piece of poetic literature, more like reading a caption beneath a photo. When she got down to the final line, in which she lets the big guy go, I was surprised yet again. This time by the emphasis Bishop herself puts on the individual words. My mind, seeing the release of the aquatic veteran as the only logical choice, was surprised to hear her emphasize the word "I". As in "I did, you wouldn't."
It seems the unasked question is not "Wouldn't you?", but is rather "Would you not?"
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