The most powerful and intriguing poem out of the five we read was 'Bored.' I'm not sure if Margaret Atwood is writing about her father here, but when I read it I thought about mine. I used to 'help' him on Sundays a lot: I'd watch as he fixed our dirt bikes or the cars (and attempted to teach me how to change oil); I helped him and my mom dig holes for wooden posts to frame our garden (which was hard work for an eleven-year-old!); I pulled weeds in the garden and dandelions from the lawn; I (tried) to help build our playhouse and our zip-line, which my dad made from scratch; I went canoeing with them and my sister on the river. I did so many things that I, at the time, thought were 'boring' but now I look back at those memories with fondness. I'm here in college, and my parents are far away. I don't get to spend time like that with them anymore, and I know that if I went back with my current understanding of life, I would enjoy those quiet hours of 'boring' labor. Atwood's last six lines reveal that she feels the same way, and I wonder how many of us feel that way. The good thing about looking back on those boring moments is that now we can appreciate them and love them for their boringness. Life is so busy now--we should love the short hours of boredom we get with our loved ones!
Atwood's use of repetition helped relay the message of her boredom in the beginning and middle of the poem: "Holding the log while he sawed it. Holding/ the string while he measured, boards" and "Or sat in the back/ of the car, or sat still in boats,/ sat, sat, while at the prow, stern, wheel." The repetition of "Now I wouldn't...Now I would...Now I would..." at the very end is powerful: it drives her meaning into us. No longer does repetition stand for boredom: it now is a tool to drive the meaning of her poem--and her regret--into our minds. She is using what made her bored (and what allowed us to see her boredom) and turning into something meaningful, both for her and for us.
Atwood's word choices allow us to see the small things she speaks of, "acid crumbs of loam, the granular pink rock, its igneous veins." I admit that I had to look up a few words in order to understand what they meant, and I think they enrich the poem. Another poem used rich imagery: 'Bone' by Mary Oliver. Her lines about the sea were my favorites--I love how she describes its "dark-knit glare" and asserts that, though we cannot see through its face, we know sand lies at the bottom. I think this is a great analogy to describe the soul, or the mind, or the 'heart' (not the physical heart). However, there are some great places in the ocean where one CAN see the sand on the bottom...and I love to swim in those...but her analogy still works. I don't know why she divided her poem into sections, though--especially when the section number came in the middle of the sentence. I found it unnecessary and distracting.
The other poem I enjoyed was Pablo Neruda's "Bird," but I wanted to find the Spanish version so I could read it in its original language, and I couldn't find it anywhere. Nevertheless, I enjoyed it. It didn't make a lot of sense to me, but I felt that sense was within grasping distance. I like how Neruda describes the day "It was passed from one bird to another,/ the whole gift of the day." This may not have a lot to do with writing itself, but I do love how he describes the day, because each day really is a gift.
The other two poems were mediocre to me, and I'm not sure if that's because I just don't understand them or because they are so abstract that I just don't like them. I listened to Tracy Smith's reading on NPR and found it slightly stilted and almost frustrating to listen to. Maybe she doesn't like reading her writing out loud--I know I don't! But it's an important part of being a writer, so I'd better get used to it. Smith's poem was one of the two that I read several times and failed to grasp, and I looked on the comments under her reading on NPR. Everyone seemed to love it, so maybe it's just me! I don't know.
--Laura Strawn Ojeda
I wrote almost the exact same things as you in my blog post! "Bored" was also my favorite and I've always been fascinated with the workings of memory. I'm taking Advanced Expository Writing this quarter and reading works by authors who openly admit that their memories do funny things. What you and the author seemed to agree on is that in the moment, those activities were so boring, but looking back you think about how you bonded and how much you appreciate those simple times.
ReplyDeleteI also agree with you about "Bird." I enjoyed it, even though I didn't fully understand it. Reading these poems made me come to a realization. I don't know how I feel about poetry. I was in the poetry club at my elementary school and I got to write some, but I look back now and of course it is obvious they were written by a third grader. I've written other stuff in high school and it's ok but it does have the beautiful imagery and powerful words that professional poets do. I don't come away from a poem with the same feeling of understanding that I do with a novel. While I can understand and appreciate the beauty of poetry, I can't say it is my favorite form.
-Katie Huffman
Me, either! And that's crazy! I promise I didn't look at your blog post before I wrote mine. Great minds think alike ;). That's cute about the third grade poetry! I learned about it a little bit in middle school, but it's not my favorite. I tend to like poetry from the past more than modern day poetry. And I love novels more than poems, hands down.
ReplyDeleteLaura