Welcome to you. Please, pull up a seat, fetch a cup of tea or other calming beverage of choice. Take a moment for you. Let my meager words entertain you briefly, if they can.
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Interested Party | 57 |
This one was rather solemn. A piece on the living and the dead that makes less makes you think and rather makes you... more aware, I think is appropriate.
I'm just going to sit here and cry, thank you very much.
This one was rather solemn. A piece on the living and the dead that makes less makes you think and rather makes you... more aware, I think is appropriate.
Very nice.
There's something detached, cold and lonely about Westminister, or at least that is the feeling I get. You can feel the separation between the holy and the mundane, the abbey and the city, the living and the dead; which to be honest feels like a loss of purpose for a place that was meant to unite these and imbue them with meaning. The setting, too, is almost a bit sad. Not Nietzsche's 'sepulchers of a dead God' sad, but like something small, reduced. It is an ancient beauty we cannot bear to discard though we no longer understand it.
Also, if you'll pardon my being the crusty old Elizabethan (when I'm very much not), I wonder if we're being a little too free with the base sonnet form here in that particular poem.
The evident ABAB CDCD EFEF GG of both that and *Scharnhorst* threw me just a bit with the sometimes wild lack of iambs and the highly irregular meter. I'm as big a fan of modern poetry as most -and by that I mean I am quite iffy on it- but I do think that irregularity should still serve the flow of ideas. Your ideas are there for sure, but the flow of them and the way they keep place and pace through the meter could use some work.
There's a reason sonnets tried to keep to five iambs a line (unstressed-syllable to stressed-syllable) - to make reading in the author's world an easier experience flow-wise. Therefore any reversal or change in flow should be intentional. That is why, say, Lear's "never, never, never, never, never" in Act 5 Scene 3 of King Lear is powerful in context. His world is reversed, upside-down and wrong, and as such five trochees (stressed-syllable to unstressed-syllable) are used instead of the usual five iambs or some variant thereof to emphasize that; variants which, as you might be aware, were common enough anyway.
What I was trying to do with Westminster was capture the sort of feeling that I got while visiting the Abbey. Now something to be understood with that is that I was firstly visiting the place as a tourist, not as someone come to worship; and secondly that I fall more under the label of "agnostic" than anything else to begin with anyways.
And the living/dead split that the poem focuses on a bit was further inspired by how, in the very back of the Abbey, there is this section where people who have been knighted into the Order of the Bath have flags with their family crests hung up. It just struck me as rather odd and jarring; all of these elaborate tombs honoring the dead, and suddenly colorful flags to commemorate the achievements of the still-living?
Hm. Some of that might be that I'm not exactly trying to convey ideas, as it were; in Westminster I'm trying to convey an impression, a feeling - possibly multiple. And in *Scharnhorst* I'm more almost trying to tell a story, a brief overview of the ship's life from her own perspective. That might contribute somewhat to the differences between what you're expecting and what you're seeing, maybe?
Nonetheless, I must confess that I've never fully grasped the usage of the iamb or the iambic pentameter. A few different times I have written something that I had thought followed the proper pattern of unstressed-stressed, only to be later informed that I did, in fact, wildly break from the pattern. This feeds into issues with knowing that I have kept it to five; if I cannot tell if I have used an iamb, how can I tell if I used five of them?
Further, I have run into difficulties in the past with having enough space to say what I wish within the structure of the iambic pentameter. Speaking for myself, I would rather break the pentameter and paint the metaphorical portrait that I want to in full than to obey the pentameter and leave things half-done.