tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post2120076991963601594..comments2024-03-23T20:37:37.891-07:00Comments on First Known When Lost: MayStephen Pentzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-5796839410842383502021-06-04T18:06:04.851-07:002021-06-04T18:06:04.851-07:00Mr. Caseley: It's good to hear from you. Than...Mr. Caseley: It's good to hear from you. Thank you for stopping by again.<br /><br />Yes, Larkin's "qualification trick" is at the heart of a great many of his poems, isn't it? I agree that "An Arundel Tomb" is the finest instance. Your thoughts immediately brought to mind something Larkin wrote about Edward Thomas in a letter to Andrew Motion (Motion had asked him to review a typescript of Motion's book on Thomas): "What a strange talent his was: the poetry of almost infinitely-qualified states of mind, so well paralleled by his verse." (Letter of May 16, 1979.) (Another reminder of what a wonderfully acute critic Larkin was.) Of course, Larkin might be speaking of himself as well. And, as I'm sure you know, there is also a third fine poet fond of the "qualification trick" (no wonder he and Thomas were such good friends): Robert Frost.<br /><br />I'm pleased you liked "Reciprocity": it has always stayed with me. I suppose Drinkwater is mostly known now (if at all) for "Moonlit Apples," but he wrote a number of lovely poems.<br /><br />Again, thank you very much for visiting, and for sharing your thoughts. Take care.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-30195514159026998082021-06-01T10:02:13.038-07:002021-06-01T10:02:13.038-07:00I've been thinking about this Larkin poem rece...I've been thinking about this Larkin poem recently, and like many of his, it conceals a great deal: the qualifications ('almost', 'seem', etc) seem like a direct challenge to the evidence of the tree's growth. He does this qualification trick in many poems- notoriously with the two usages of 'almost' in the penultimate line of 'An Arundel Tomb': many, many people quote the final line as a kind of comfort without noticing these strictures on the conclusion. Larkin is a tricksy writer!<br /><br />Thanks for your thoughts, and for the Drinkwater poem, which is terrific and new to me. Best wishes,Martin Caseleynoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-23248326337213660612021-05-25T20:42:55.710-07:002021-05-25T20:42:55.710-07:00Bruce: Thank you very much for the wonderful poem ...Bruce: Thank you very much for the wonderful poem by Dickinson, and for your thoughtful meditation on the poem, on the seasons, and on life. I completely agree with your thoughts about Indian Summer, both as viewed by Dickinson and through your own eyes. I remember it well from my childhood in Minnesota, and you and Dickinson capture the feelings it evokes perfectly. There are few things more beautiful, heart-catching, and sigh-inducing, are there?<br /><br />What can one say about "Forever is deciduous/Except to those who die --"? One should just stay silent. However, I will repeat something that I have said here in the past: the thought that the trees and all the beautiful particulars of the World will continue their yearly round long after we have turned to dust can be a source of serenity and peace.<br /><br />As ever, it's a pleasure to hear from you. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts. Take care.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-30260526573024240412021-05-25T09:31:58.212-07:002021-05-25T09:31:58.212-07:00Steve,
Below is a little poem by Emily Dickinson,...Steve,<br /><br />Below is a little poem by Emily Dickinson, in which she speaks of summer as having two beginnings. At first a reader might find this odd to speak of summer beginning twice. But of course she is speaking not of "official summer" alone but of also Indian summer. She knows that Indian Summer lacks the "riot" of authentic summer, but it is, she implies, more profound, tinged with melancholy, probably because the glory days of Indian summer are a portent, a ruse, if you will, to conceal the inevitable arrival of a cold New England winter, which is a gelid siege not to be lifted until the arrival of May. My reading of the poem is that she compares the seasons to deciduous trees: their leaves blaze good and yellow and read during Indian Summer, but come May the tress are once again, a promise of nature, laden with leaves. Of course we humans are deciduous only once and when we lose our leaves ("I have lost all my leaves," cries Anthony Hopkins in the film "The Father," when he is lost and bewildered in the late stages of Alzheimer's) we will find no Indian summer to resurrect us. Of course my interpretation of the poem may be off. All I know for sure, Steve, is this: the river birch outside my study window which spent the winter naked, unclothed against winter, is now a green example of sartorial elegance, a profusion of leaf-laden boughs that block my view of the sky.<br /><br />Summer has two Beginnings —<br />Beginning once in June —<br />Beginning in October<br />Affectingly again —<br /><br />Without, perhaps, the Riot<br />But graphicker for Grace —<br />As finer is a going<br />Than a remaining Face —<br /><br />Departing then — forever —<br />Forever — until May —<br />Forever is deciduous<br />Except to those who die — Brucenoreply@blogger.com