Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Hello! Sorry, I've been gone for so long.
Actually, I know I don't have much of an audience with this, but I thought that maybe if anyone is ever doing research on any poems from here, they'd appreciate any materail they could get.

Today we are going to examine Robert Frost's Ghost House.





Ghost House



by Robert Frost


I dwell in a lonely house I know
That vanished many a summer ago,
And left no trace bu the cellar walls,
And a cellar in which the daylight falls,
And the purple- stemmed wild raspberries grow.

O'er ruined fences the grape-vines shield
The woods come back to the mowing field;
The orchard tree has grown one copse
Of new wood and old where the woodpecker chops;
The footpath down to the well is healed.

I dwell with a strangely aching heart
In that vanished abode there far apart
On that disused and forgotten road
That has no dust-bath now for the toad.
Night comes; the black bats tumble and dart;

The whippoorwill is coming to shout
And hush and cluck and flutter about:
I hear him begin far enough away
Full many a time to say his say
Before he arrives to say it out.

It is under the small, dim, summer star,
I know not who these mute folk are
Who share the unit place with me-
Those stones out under the low-limbed tree
Doubtless bear names that the mosses mar.

They are tireless folk, but slow and sad,
Thought two, close-keeping, are lass and lad,-
With none among them that ever sings,
And yet, in view of how many things,
As sweet companions as might be had.

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First of all, what is a copse? We never use that word, do we? Let's look it up.

A copse is an English term for a small lowland woodland-Wikipedia. So, it's a small lowland area of woods. Easy.

He also says the footpath to the well is healed, implying that it was wounded from being constantly walked upon as those who once lived there went to get water. So I imagine the shape of it is still there, but cover over in grass and no longer easily known to once be.

It says that the woods come back to the mowing field. What this seems to mean is that the house once had a wide back yard area of grass. Perhaps an acre maybe? But it;s been so abandoned and un cared for that the woods(trees, and bushes, and tall grasses) have grown and crept up to the very edges and taken over that former area. It enhances how long the house has been vacated.

I have little idea what he mans by saying that the orchard tree has grown one copse. But we did find out what a copse looks like. What does an orchard tree look like? This is what google gave me: http://images.google.com/images?hl=en&rls=com.microsoft:en-US:IE-SearchBox&rlz=1I7ADBR&q=orchard%20tree&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=N&tab=wi

He also mentions a whipporwill, a type of bird. But what does a whipporwill look or sound like? I got these two links: http://www.soundboard.com/sb/Whippoorwill_sounds.aspx

http://media.photobucket.com/image/whippoorwill%20sound/dihardhunter/whippoorwill.jpg

He says "it is under the small, dim, summer star." That really gives more of a sad tone because most people, when we think of summer stars will imagine either small or big bright dots of light in the sky.

He mentions the word mar. What does that word mean?

Mar: to dtract from the perfection or wholeness of. Perhaps in that line he means that the moss is marring the trees all over, preventing us from seeing where the bears have scratched their names in the trees, and laid down their stones to mark it.

In the end we're left knowing that there apprently two sad old ghosts, a man and a woman who are quiet, do not sing, and yet together still seem as happy as companions might be.

------------

When I read hrough this poem, I have to say my favorite part is the ghosts. Imaging that even after death, that man and woman are still close companions, silent with one another. That is the part I like best. What about you?


Friday, May 29, 2009

Into My Own

Into My Own



by Robert Frost


One of my wishes is that those dark trees,
So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,
Were not, as ’twere, the merest mask of gloom,
But stretched away unto the edge of doom.


I should not be withheld but that some day
Into their vastness I should steal away,
Fearless of ever finding open land,
Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.


I do not see why I should e’er turn back,
Or those should not set forth upon my track
To overtake me, who should miss me here
And long to know if still I held them dear.


They would not find me changed from him they knew—
Only more sure of all I thought was true.



-----



It's pretty clear that the mind of this person, and their wishful intent is to steal away into a forest which they seem to be gazing at from a distance, and wishing that that very forest would never end. That it would go on forever. It sounds like the writer wants to set off to find himself and do nothing else. That maybe he should rediscover himself. He seems to want to escape what we know as civilization since he mentiond "...where the slow wheel pours the sand."



He doesn't seem to feel the need for anyone in particular to go and find him; rather that simply seems senseless or unneeded to him. It would also seem, when he says "...all I thought was true", that he feels by doing so, he would find the truth about a lot of things, by being alone and thinking of them.



Personally, thought Robert Frost is not one of my favorite poets at all, this is one of my favorite poems of his. I think many people can easily relate to it. How often was it that we might sit that and watch the sky and the clouds for a bit, and suddenly feel that we should grow wings, jump up and fly to whereever we wanted or thought we should? I've felt that way, maybe too often. Or have you ever sat on a hill and felt you wanted to jump and roll all the way down it into oblivion? I think the writer must have felt something like that.

He also wants to escape civilization. Haven't we all felt that before? You wanted to go out into the middle of ANY nowhere and NOT find even a metal screw on the ground; not a hint of humanity? I've felt that way too. I think that is exactly what this poem is trying to convey.

What about you? What do you think it means and how are you understanding it?
Hello! Ok, we're going to start with Robert Frost, and poems of his from A Boy's Will and North of Boston. I think his poems are more easily understood than Emily Dickinson's. We'll do more than just type it out here and see what we can wring from it. When I read the poem, I'm going to consider a lot of things. Who was it written to? Why was it written? When or what time? What's the meaning? Is it based on an actual place? If so, where? Is there anything we can learn here, not just morally or emotionally, but rather, something specific about what the author is saying?

In your comments, discuss all this with me so we can get something out of it together. We'll see if we can't comprehend these poems and whether or not the writer's intent and meaning we're conveyed to us.

Also, keep in mind, we might also have to do some research on the writer. Sometimes we can find clues or answers about a poem in their own history of course. So their past will be speculation for us as well.