[HN Gopher] America's Great Poet of Darkness: A Reconsideration ...
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       America's Great Poet of Darkness: A Reconsideration of Robert Frost
       at 150
        
       Author : samclemens
       Score  : 67 points
       Date   : 2024-04-03 05:30 UTC (17 hours ago)
        
 (HTM) web link (hedgehogreview.com)
 (TXT) w3m dump (hedgehogreview.com)
        
       | FergusArgyll wrote:
       | > Frost is the darkest of poets
       | 
       | Interesting, I always thought of him as quite optimistic. Maybe
       | because my introduction to him was                 The way a crow
       | Shook down on me       The dust of snow       From a hemlock tree
       | Has given my heart       A change of mood       And saved some
       | part       Of a day I had rued.
       | 
       | it goes well with Monet's The Magpie and hot coffee
        
         | PyWoody wrote:
         | 'Out, Out--'                 The buzz saw snarled and rattled
         | in the yard       And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks
         | of wood,       Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across
         | it.       And from there those that lifted eyes could count
         | Five mountain ranges one behind the other       Under the
         | sunset far into Vermont.       And the saw snarled and rattled,
         | snarled and rattled,       As it ran light, or had to bear a
         | load.       And nothing happened: day was all but done.
         | Call it a day, I wish they might have said       To please the
         | boy by giving him the half hour       That a boy counts so much
         | when saved from work.       His sister stood beside him in her
         | apron       To tell them 'Supper.' At the word, the saw,
         | As if to prove saws knew what supper meant,       Leaped out at
         | the boy's hand, or seemed to leap--       He must have given
         | the hand. However it was,       Neither refused the meeting.
         | But the hand!       The boy's first outcry was a rueful laugh,
         | As he swung toward them holding up the hand       Half in
         | appeal, but half as if to keep       The life from spilling.
         | Then the boy saw all--       Since he was old enough to know,
         | big boy       Doing a man's work, though a child at heart--
         | He saw all spoiled. 'Don't let him cut my hand off--       The
         | doctor, when he comes. Don't let him, sister!'       So. But
         | the hand was gone already.       The doctor put him in the dark
         | of ether.       He lay and puffed his lips out with his breath.
         | And then--the watcher at his pulse took fright.       No one
         | believed. They listened at his heart.       Little--less--
         | nothing!--and that ended it.       No more to build on there.
         | And they, since they       Were not the one dead, turned to
         | their affairs.
         | 
         | or
         | 
         | 'Desert Places'                 Snow falling and night falling
         | fast, oh, fast       In a field I looked into going past,
         | And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,       But a few
         | weeds and stubble showing last.            The woods around it
         | have it - it is theirs.       All animals are smothered in
         | their lairs.       I am too absent-spirited to count;       The
         | loneliness includes me unawares.            And lonely as it
         | is, that loneliness       Will be more lonely ere it will be
         | less -       A blanker whiteness of benighted snow       With
         | no expression, nothing to express.            They cannot scare
         | me with their empty spaces       Between stars - on stars where
         | no human race is.       I have it in me so much nearer home
         | To scare myself with my own desert places.
         | 
         | are both pretty dark, off the top of my head. He has a number
         | of poems that are more subtle and dig away at you in the best
         | possible way.
        
           | ghaff wrote:
           | Yeah. Frost has some really dark poems. The chainsaw one is
           | always my go-to example. I've had people basically not
           | believe them when I've told them.
        
             | hermanradtke wrote:
             | > chainsaw
             | 
             | buzz saw - blade; no chain
        
               | ghaff wrote:
               | The actual text makes it sound a lot more like a chainsaw
               | than something else but I don't actually know given the
               | period written.
        
               | bdamm wrote:
               | The 1916 poem was based on a true story about a boy that
               | Robert knew, who died in 1910. They did have circular-saw
               | like machines in 1910 that were popular for cutting
               | firewood, according to my wiki dive.
        
               | ghaff wrote:
               | Thanks. I would have assumed cutting firewood would have
               | involved a chainsaw but apparently not.
        
               | mikestew wrote:
               | It's a fixed buzzsaw. One might be confused by the
               | "leaped at his hand", but Frost says in reality that "he
               | must have given the hand".
               | 
               | Basically, his sister called him to supper, which
               | apparently distracted the boy enough that he accidentally
               | stuck his hand in the blade.
               | 
               | A buzzsaw is in essence a large version of a table saw,
               | and table saws eat many fingers and thumbs every year.
               | Now imagine that the table saw blade is four feet tall.
        
           | greenie_beans wrote:
           | i've got to pickup a frost book asap
        
         | dev_tty01 wrote:
         | Hmm. I think that can be read different ways. He had a dark
         | foreboding for the day and the crow encounter only saved a part
         | of the day. Rather than optimistic, it could be perceived as
         | still able recognize a small bit of light through his darkness.
         | That's what great about art. The perception and situation of
         | the viewer shapes the experience.
        
           | FergusArgyll wrote:
           | To me, that's optimism. It's really the same feeling I get
           | from The Magpie. It's like; There aren't many good things
           | about the winter, it's cold, it's miserable, but look how
           | pretty it can be sometimes
        
           | saltcured wrote:
           | Well, it's full of conventionally dark symbols: the crow,
           | hemlock, and cold winter season. And the diction echoes this
           | with words like shook, dust, and rued. Other word choices
           | could have told a very similar story in a more cheery mood,
           | if desired.
           | 
           | It's also a vignette devoid of human contact, which is common
           | to many of Frost's more introspective poems. The narrator is
           | the main character in an empty or lonely scene, except for a
           | brief interaction with an animal.
           | 
           | Even the choice to say "change of mood" delays clarity until
           | the words "save" and "rued" provide disambiguation. Yet it is
           | also quite short, almost an epigram.
           | 
           | So while the final message is one of positive valence, it is
           | rooted in dark humor, almost a wink emerging from a scowl. I
           | think this is an example where Frost is revisiting some of
           | the ground shared with one of his early influences, Edgar
           | Allen Poe.
        
         | imjonse wrote:
         | More than optimistic, I found it funny. Then I realized I
         | misread crow as cow.
        
         | ajkjk wrote:
         | I dunno anything about poetry but the meter of that poem bugs
         | me. Why not "from hemlock tree"? there are like random extra
         | syllables.
        
           | browningstreet wrote:
           | > The way a crow
           | 
           | > Shook down on me
           | 
           | > The dust of snow
           | 
           | > From a hemlock tree
           | 
           | a.. on.. of.. a
           | 
           | Also, it's all colloquial, "From hemlock tree" isn't how we
           | speak.
        
           | Jtsummers wrote:
           | It's 4/4/4/6 syllables and ABAB rhyming. The second verse,
           | first line, is 4 syllables if you pronounce "given" more as
           | "g'ven", smashing the g into the v.
        
           | ksenzee wrote:
           | Poetry in English is usually less about syllables and more
           | about stressed syllables.
        
         | Amorymeltzer wrote:
         | To put a title to it, that's _Dust of Snow_
        
         | temp0826 wrote:
         | Considering symbolism of hemlock and of the crow? It's hard to
         | say at one glance, it could be taken with some heck of a lot
         | darker implications.
         | 
         | Then again, "rued" may have an extra meaning too (rue = ruta
         | graveolens = "herb of grace").
         | 
         | Great poem nonetheless :).
        
         | QuercusMax wrote:
         | One of my favorites is Birches. He does talk about wanting to
         | leave the earth and then come back.
         | 
         | https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44260/birches
        
       | greenie_beans wrote:
       | i enjoyed this, learning more about him and thinking about his
       | writing in this way. i've been getting into frost after moving to
       | new england.
        
       | ksenzee wrote:
       | > two parallel but separate levels: one, the corncob bard of
       | Yankee wisdom who appears on t-shirts and mugs: the other, the
       | critic's darling who is "bleak, dark, complex, and manipulative."
       | 
       | This is the genius of Frost. You can read Fire and Ice in
       | elementary school, when you're just figuring out what a poet is,
       | and you get it. Then you can read him again in college and see a
       | whole new level underneath what you thought you understood. Both
       | levels are there on purpose. Both are valid.
        
       | ghaff wrote:
       | It's interesting how the meaning of "The Road Not Taken" seems to
       | have widely(?) come to have been differently interpreted over the
       | years. I had a long-ago English professor talk about that and I
       | think it was a fairly non-mainstream optinion at the time. (He
       | taught an American literature in the 20s course in the 80s.) It
       | seems to be sort of the standard interpretation today--perhaps
       | the view of Frost generally has shifted.
        
         | rwbt wrote:
         | It is probably the most misunderstood poem of all time! There's
         | no going back now though.
        
           | ghaff wrote:
           | Probably depends on the audience. Readers of the New Yorker
           | or who have taken courses from Ivy League English professors
           | are probably different from the random person on the street
           | (who is even vaguely familiar with the poem).
        
           | Amorymeltzer wrote:
           | Number two is probably Frost's Mending Wall and "Good fences
           | make good neighbors."
        
             | smueller1234 wrote:
             | "Before I built a wall I'd ask to know What I was walling
             | in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offense."
             | 
             | Only poem I can cite by heart a quarter of a century after
             | spending time with it in school.
        
       | Amorymeltzer wrote:
       | A couple of years ago I read through his complete works. Highly
       | recommend doing so, but I will say that, unlike with many (most?)
       | other poets, I found that the Robert Frost poems you already
       | know-- _Mending Wall_ , _The Road Not Taken_ , _Fire and Ice_ ,
       | _Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening_ --are indeed his best.
       | There are plenty of other good ones and some truly great lines as
       | well, but it was oddly reassuring to find out.
        
       | olvy0 wrote:
       | I really enjoyed that essay.
       | 
       | The last paragraph seems to sum up my view of the world.
       | 
       | In school when learning Stopping By Woods I'm pretty sure the
       | death/suicide interpretation was mentioned by my teacher, and
       | seemed pretty obvious to me even before she mentioned it.
        
       | velcrovan wrote:
       | Underappreciated, I think: The Tuft of Flowers
       | 
       | https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44275/the-tuft-of-flo...
        
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       (page generated 2024-04-03 23:01 UTC)