Metrical Monday
January 5th 2009 22:51
For this first Metrical Monday I'm going to discuss a poem by Sylvia Plath:
One Art
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something everyday. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing further, losing faster:
places and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
This is in the form of a villanelle, a highly structured and musical poem that rhymes aba aba aba aba aba abaa. Traditionally, villanelles repeat the 1st and 3rd lines of the 1st stanza in their entirety throughout the poem; though Plath has deviated a little bit from the norm here, all the repeated lines have enough in common with their parent lines that I think the effect is still there. In fact, I like it when poets vary the lines a little bit, because I think it flows more naturally and conversationally while still retaining the sort of obsessive feel that the poem has.
Usually in a villanelle each line is in iambic pentameter, and though the iambic feel (flowing and connected lines and phrases, daDAdaDA) is still present in this poem, a lot of the lines exceed or fall short of ten syllables. This is okay, though, since all the lines are close enough and the flow of words is smooth enough that most people wouldn't notice a difference unless they were counting (which I always do, since I'm a nerd). A lot of the lines here are 11 syllables, and it's okay, since the last word of the lines are 3 syllables long and usually have the same stresses. There's a specific word for 11 syllable poetic lines, but it escapes me at the moment...if I remember later, I'll put it up. If anyone knows, fee free to comment!
I was a little surprised when I read this poem, because almost all the poems of Plath's that I'd read in the past were very free-verse; they were loose and unstructured. I guess she's a good example of something a professor of mine said: Once a poet has gotten the hang of regular verse forms and meter, then he or she can feel free to confidently fiddle around with their own forms. I think this is true, especially when comparing the free verse of renowned poets with the free verse of myself or my friends. It's like comparing Michelangelo's David with my 1st grade pottery project, which looked rather like a tumorous, melting snowman.
"One Art" is just a great poem, in my opinion. It talks about simply profound life truths in a tightly paced and structured, elegant little villanelle caressed by Plath's own idiosyncratic touch. It's not as obscure or as serious as most of the poems that I enjoy; because it's not like my other favorites, but I can still enjoy it personally, is to me the hallmark of a great poet.
Tomorrow I'll talk about a villanelle that I wrote recently, which follows the form much more closely than Plath's, mostly because I'm waiting until I've definitely got the hang of it before I start fiddling around with the form. I'll also talk about something that I didn't mention today, something that (I think) is super important to poetry, but that can be different with each poet: punctuation in poetry. A touchy subject, but nevertheless I'll offer my verdict on poetic punctuation in general, and how it relates to the villanelle I'll post. I might also talk a little bit about poetic inspiration: where it comes from, what it means to me, etc. Hope you all have a nice night!
One Art
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something everyday. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing further, losing faster:
places and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
This is in the form of a villanelle, a highly structured and musical poem that rhymes aba aba aba aba aba abaa. Traditionally, villanelles repeat the 1st and 3rd lines of the 1st stanza in their entirety throughout the poem; though Plath has deviated a little bit from the norm here, all the repeated lines have enough in common with their parent lines that I think the effect is still there. In fact, I like it when poets vary the lines a little bit, because I think it flows more naturally and conversationally while still retaining the sort of obsessive feel that the poem has.
Usually in a villanelle each line is in iambic pentameter, and though the iambic feel (flowing and connected lines and phrases, daDAdaDA) is still present in this poem, a lot of the lines exceed or fall short of ten syllables. This is okay, though, since all the lines are close enough and the flow of words is smooth enough that most people wouldn't notice a difference unless they were counting (which I always do, since I'm a nerd). A lot of the lines here are 11 syllables, and it's okay, since the last word of the lines are 3 syllables long and usually have the same stresses. There's a specific word for 11 syllable poetic lines, but it escapes me at the moment...if I remember later, I'll put it up. If anyone knows, fee free to comment!
I was a little surprised when I read this poem, because almost all the poems of Plath's that I'd read in the past were very free-verse; they were loose and unstructured. I guess she's a good example of something a professor of mine said: Once a poet has gotten the hang of regular verse forms and meter, then he or she can feel free to confidently fiddle around with their own forms. I think this is true, especially when comparing the free verse of renowned poets with the free verse of myself or my friends. It's like comparing Michelangelo's David with my 1st grade pottery project, which looked rather like a tumorous, melting snowman.
"One Art" is just a great poem, in my opinion. It talks about simply profound life truths in a tightly paced and structured, elegant little villanelle caressed by Plath's own idiosyncratic touch. It's not as obscure or as serious as most of the poems that I enjoy; because it's not like my other favorites, but I can still enjoy it personally, is to me the hallmark of a great poet.
Tomorrow I'll talk about a villanelle that I wrote recently, which follows the form much more closely than Plath's, mostly because I'm waiting until I've definitely got the hang of it before I start fiddling around with the form. I'll also talk about something that I didn't mention today, something that (I think) is super important to poetry, but that can be different with each poet: punctuation in poetry. A touchy subject, but nevertheless I'll offer my verdict on poetic punctuation in general, and how it relates to the villanelle I'll post. I might also talk a little bit about poetic inspiration: where it comes from, what it means to me, etc. Hope you all have a nice night!
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