Monday, September 14, 2015

Plath's passed away poems

Of all the poem examples given in chapter ten of Janet Burroway's Imaginative Writing I would like to comment on Silvia Plath's Stillborn.

What shapes and characterizes the poem is the idea of declaring the personified poems dead. The topic is introduced in the first line, where the cold, scientific word "diagnosis" evens out every credible meaning the word "sad" might once have had. "Diagnosis" also occupies the most important position at the end of the line and stays in mind because of the short pause the reader has to make to skip to the next line. The second line features a couple of warm assonances which stress the idea of a living and growing thing: "They grew their toes and fingers well enough". Since the first stanza is about the development of the poems, this stylistic device has a clear function here. The fourth line has a flowing, moving feeling to it, which makes the reader understand the idea of walking people. Responsible for that is Plath's use of an alliteration and a rhyming couple of words in "they missed out on walking about".

The second stanza illustrates the desperation of the mother (poet) upon losing her children (poems) by using exclamation marks, in written language equalling shouting, and a triple anaphora. Also the word "smile" is repeated four times. This repetition of words mimics the lack of eloquence one has in a panic situation and even the rather simple "heart-start" rhyme at the end of the stanza works in this context.

Stanza three breaks with the structured character of the poem in which up to this point every sentence ends with a line. Suddenly we have enjambments which remind of a broken voice. Also the comparison of poems to fish and pigs, with pigs for some reason being of higher value, has a disturbing effect.

I like how Plath evokes an uneasy feeling with a description of normally lifeless poems by comparing them to dying fetuses. Since poems are, as we read in chapter ten, all about feelings, that is a great accomplishment.

Here is the poem for you to compare while reading:

These poems do not live: it's a sad diagnosis.
They grew their toes and fingers well enough,
Their little foreheads bulged with concentration.
If they missed out on walking about like people
It wasn't for any lack of mother-love.

O I cannot explain what happened to them!
They are proper in shape and number and every part.
They sit so nicely in the pickling fluid!
They smile and smile and smile at me.
And still the lungs won't fill and the heart won't start.

They are not pigs, they are not even fish,
Though they have a piggy and a fishy air --
It would be better if they were alive, and that's what they were.
But they are dead, and their mother near dead with distraction,
And they stupidly stare and do not speak of her.

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