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Happiness

I was reading Jane Kenyon's poem about happiness, and the second time through, I noticed that the first half of the poem is written in the 2nd person voice. Then, the second half of the poem switches to the 3rd person voice.
I feel like the use of different voices lends different tones to the poem. In the first half (and when I say "first half," I mean the first two stanzas of the poem, the "second half" being the rest of the poem), when Jane uses the second person, the poem has a sort of informal tone about it. In the second half, Jane's use of the third person gives the poem a more formal sense.
In the first two stanzas, Jane describes happiness. She personifies it, and comes up with elaborate metaphors to explain what happiness is. Her choice of 2nd person and metaphors makes happiness seem like something close to all of us, like a person who we all know, but don't see as often as we'd like to (e.g. "prodigal who comes back to the dust at your feet," or the "uncle you never knew about"). In this half of the poem, the tone feels informal and commonplace.
In the second half of the poem, the voice changes to the third person, and the tone becomes more serious. Jane talks about the duties of happiness, and mentions those who happiness visits. One of the main reasons for the serious tone of the second half of the poem is the sudden switch from second person to third.
At least, that's what I was thinking.

Aaron

Response to "In the Woods"

In her short creative narrative “In the Woods,” Leslie Rubinkowski introduces the reader to a unique form of writing by incorporating her grandfather’s fictional stories into her own creative nonfiction. While reading, I thought it was a very appealing how she combined autobiographical elements with fictional ones, and at the same time told us what she thought about her writing from an author’s perspective. Then, I felt engaged in her family life, especially in the relationship the narrator shared with the grandfather, “Most nights I would try to slink across the side yard into the house but my grandfather would always catch me. ‘Hey Farmer,’ he would holler. ‘Come here I got to tell you somethin’’”. Despite the fact that the stories the narrator’s grandfather told her were fictional, they influenced her so much that she incorporates them into her own nonfiction writing. For instance, after listening to her grandfather’s cat story, she hears something coming from the woods which seemed to be her own cat. It is also quite interesting to think about the ambiguous feelings she expresses about her grandfather’s lies, “I hated my grandfather’s lies but I love a good story even more.” Evidently, the lies were the essence of the story, but could also be the greater truth she seeks and becomes depressed when she doesn’t find it. Additionally, she admits the talents in her grandfather’s lies by saying, “[my grandfather,] a coal miner who could barely sign his own name was one of the best writers I’ll ever know.” Even if she somehow admits hating all the lies, she realizes they are necessary to capture the reader’s attention, and tells the reader, “As I am writing, I realize that I am lying to you.” This is an example of how the author tells us about the process of writing, while, at the same time, dealing with one of the story’s main dilemmas, lies. However, even if the narrator seems to like her profession as a writer, waking up at five am to write poems, and memorizing “soliloquies from Hamlet and the lyrics of Barry White songs,” she seems depressed when she realizes that she lies because she is in search for a happier truth.

Stanley Kunitz extra extra

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Blog on A Study in Emerald

Of all the stories I've read in my life, no piece has ever engaged me as deeply as Neil Gaiman's, A Study in Emerald (can't figure out how to underline). The narrator successfully serves as a channel into the world in which he lives, which in this story, is centered around his curious friend, the unnamed consulting detective. The introduction to the detective is enough to make you interested in whatever interests him, because he is so observant, analytical, and as the narrator puts it so plainly: "he was a mystery." Conclusions like this are perfectly placed after descriptions of the detective's curious behavior, giving the reader the feeling that sometimes the narrator's only reason for accepting the detective's behavior is that thinking further into it would prove useless. The reader knows, not only from the descriptions of the detective, but from the narrator's resignation from understanding him, that the detective is strange and intriguing. The detective character acted as a crucial element in making the mystery captivating, because once the detective proves his prowess, it becomes interesting, wondering what he is on to when he examines the crime scene. Suspense builds as we watch the detective piece together details of the case and try to figure it out for himself. I never read Sherlock Holmes, and didn't figure out that this was a parallel until well after I finished reading it, but it is more than the mystery that I enjoyed. The craft of the writing illuminated the characters (such as when the italics for the voices of the royalty, or the note from the obviously intelligent Rache) and it created cool images (the crime scene, described as the work of an artist). The main reason I was entertained by this was that it was a strange story, but not just for the sake of strangeness; it tied together very well, but had some idiosyncratic elements that kept it interesting paragraph by paragraph.

On Robert Frost

In his poem "For Once, Then, Something", Frost does an excellent job, in my opinion, of showing how one can find an unexpected flash of inspiration simply by shifting one's perspective. The narrator explains how he was ridiculed by his friends because he never looked through the well-water at the correct angle, and as a result, was never able to perceive more than what was at the surface. When he finally puts his chin at the level of the well, however, he is rewarded with a glimpse of what he has been missing the entire time: the pebble at the bottom of the well. Is it simply a pebble, or is it, as the narrator briefly entertains, the Truth? Frost's use of the pebble in the well to symbolize the shifting of perspective to reveal a new secret makes this poem stand out to me.