Thank you all for your feedback. I have incorporated some of your suggestions in the first edit - I can't say I'm entirely happy with the end, but I think it'll take a lot more thought and time to sort it out, so will keep thinking about it.

Edit 1:

The chalk was quite done exploring
each little chapel of your lungs,
clawing at your skin and drawing
a rudimentary alphabet upon your shattered cheeks.
The briny wind had given you a good sniff,
like a starved rottweiler
stalking about your ruined flesh,
growling at the splintered gorges of your skin.
The kind sea rushed to embrace you,
her lips and fingers woven through your matted hair.
Then, one big lift,
and off you drift - - -

And now you lie
full fathom five
with pearls for eyes.
And of your face -
no trace, no trace
of hunt or chase.

Your final lines
of white and red,
set in the chalk
at Beachy Head.


Version 1:

When the chalk was quite done exploring
each little chapel of your lungs,
clawing at your skin and drawing
a rudimentary alphabet against your shattered cheeks,
and the briny wind had given you a good sniff,
like a starved rottweiler
ravenous for a lump of fetid lamb
to take away the growls of sin and stomach,
the kind sea rushed to
embrace you - her lips and fingers in your matted hair -
and then, one big lift,
and off you drift - - -

An elegy for you, O friend:
O one that lies
full fathom five
with pearls for eyes - - -

And no trace - no trace -
of life's ignoble strife.
And your final lines
of white and red
set in the chalk
at Beachy Head - - -

No trace, no trace.

Hello Eileen. First, let me say, this was a pleasure to read. The sonics are spectacular as is the well drawn metaphor. It literally is just a pleasure to read, over and over again.

(09-05-2013, 04:39 AM)EileenGreay Wrote:  Judas Iscariot at Beachy Head

When the chalk was quite done exploring
each little chapel of your lungs,

"chapel of your lungs" is fantastic! I would eliminate "little" it adds nothing but distraction from what is a superb construction. Eliminate "quite" while you are in there with your eraser.

clawing at your skin and drawing
a rudimentary alphabet against your shattered cheeks,

I don't know that you draw "against". Also, I don't think you need "at". The "ands" are piling up as well, you could end stop "cheeks" and start the next line with "After" to good effect.

and the briny wind had given you a good sniff,
like a starved rottweiler
ravenous for a lump of fetid lamb

"starved" and "ravenous" are too much. I would eliminate "starved". "fetid" makes a suggestion about what /type/ of lamb starved dogs like as opposed to describing the lamb so, being inaccurate, it must go as well.

to take away the growls of sin and stomach,

"take away" might be a little weak here.

the kind sea rushed to
embrace you - her lips and fingers in your matted hair -
and then, one big lift,
and off you drift - - -

don't need "kind", "in" could most likely be improved on, don't need "her" or the first "and"

An elegy for you, O friend:
O one that lies
full fathom five
with pearls for eyes - - -

The Apostrophe (O's) seems to work here, but I can't help to think it would work fine without as well, i would strongly suggest trying it without.

And no trace - no trace -
of life's ignoble strife.
And your final lines
of white and red
set in the chalk
at Beachy Head - - -

No trace, no trace.

"ignoble" seems superfluous.

Overall, an enjoyable read, I look forward to the revisions.

(09-05-2013, 04:39 AM)EileenGreay Wrote:  Judas Iscariot at Beachy Head

When the chalk was quite done exploring
each little chapel of your lungs,
clawing at your skin and drawing
a rudimentary alphabet against your shattered cheeks,
and the briny wind had given you a good sniff,
like a starved rottweiler
ravenous for a lump of fetid lamb
to take away the growls of sin and stomach,
the kind sea rushed to
embrace you - her lips and fingers in your matted hair -
and then, one big lift,
and off you drift - - -Not to over inflate my joy at this stanza, I will need to force a crit. You KNOW that this is good stuff but I feel that it is pouring on to the paper in an uninterrupted stream. I can appreciate the wish to get words out before they sublimate but I find that pinning them on to the page with appropriate punctuation rather than conjunctions help. So I would end L4 with a period and drop the L5 "and". Similarly, L8. End with a period after "stomach". The rest is of this stanza is pure magic. Not sure about the - - - as I have no idea what you hope it means

An elegy for you, O friend:Not conventional. O this and O that, On balance I feel it is out of place...or plaice.
O one that lies
full fathom five
with pearls for eyes - - -

And no trace - no trace -
of life's ignoble strife.
And your final lines
of white and red
set in the chalk
at Beachy Head - - -

No trace, no trace.

Readable out loud-able more than readable in head-able. The andand-ness is better suited to the orator than the reader...as is most of this piece. Nothing wrong with that but I like intentional intent as much as I hate unintended obscurity. I cannot decide how you want this last stanza to be read but am not sure it matters. Great piece of work. Thank you.
Best,
tectak

Eileen,

I have no beef with your content, structure, et al., however the one long sentence in the first stanza reminds me of when I was studying Kant's "Critique of Pure Reason", which is to say it wears me out and makes my brain hurt--just a little bit.

Also, the "No trace, no trace." at the end seems a touch melodramatic as well as redundant. Possibly drop the "And" in the first one and go simply with No trace, no trace, and then eliminate the repetition. Also drop the "And" two lines down, dropping both actually improves the meter of the last stanza.

Anything else I might point out has been so pointed. Yet, despite all the pointing, this is an enjoyable and fun read, with just a slight chalky aftertaste

Dale

Tectak and Milo: thank you for your kind, thorough and thought-provoking responses. The more I think about this piece, the more I think it requires quite substantial revision, and I'll certainly be using many of your suggestions! I'll try and put an edit up soon.

Also, Tectak, I thought of your previous critique as I wrote this - my first piece not to revel in the possibilities of blank space for quite a while! I'm yet to decide if I will revert to my former ways, but the experience of writing this was certainly interesting.

hi eileen.

great read most of my feedback are niggly stuff. the poem is image rich,
the story succinct the first two lines were a delight. it was very hard for me to give feedback other than WOW, i think its a piece deserving of publication, unlike some that have been.
i didn't think the 2nd stanza did a good enough job simply because it felt out of character with the rest of the poem, (i was reminded of Whitman's "O captain my captain") but a great read nonetheless.
ps...
i have no idea if the - - - work or not for other's, but for me they didn't.
thanks for the read.

(09-05-2013, 04:39 AM)EileenGreay Wrote:  Judas Iscariot at Beachy Head

When the chalk was quite done exploring
each little chapel of your lungs, a great opening , fantastic image
clawing at your skin and drawing
a rudimentary alphabet against your shattered cheeks,
and the briny wind had given you a good sniff,
like a starved rottweiler this part of the simile is used to perfection
ravenous for a lump of fetid lamb this part makes it feel overdone.b]
to take away the growls of sin and stomach,
the kind sea rushed to
embrace you - her lips and fingers in your matted hair -
and then, one big lift,[b] is and needed?
and off you drift - - -

An elegy for you, O friend:
O one that lies
full fathom five
with pearls for eyes - - -

And no trace - no trace -
of life's ignoble strife.
And your final lines
of white and red
set in the chalk
at Beachy Head - - -

No trace, no trace. this line doesn't work for me, mainly because at beachy head is such a solid closure

Effective emotion herein Eileen! Feeling just a bit betrayed, I see... Good venue and using the chalky headland of Beachy Head and incorporation of the geology into the piece, bodes well for the specific drama and the metaphor. Additionally, choosing a suicide hot-spot for this imagined or real double homicide is clever. There’s something amiss with the rotweiler and rotting lamb for me. Perhaps, the use of both starved and ravenous is redundant. Also, a better scavenger for the carrion, maybe a hyena, but I’m not sure. I enjoyed the melodramatic story, title and ending, especially with the creepy dirge and final erasure in the last two stanzas. Nice!/Chris

Judas Iscariot at Beachy Head

When the chalk was quite done exploring
each little chapel of your lungs,
clawing at your skin and drawing
a rudimentary alphabet against your shattered cheeks,
camera lens seems a little off, would seem the clawing would come before the exploring...even in terms of action: claw to dig in to explore
I'm not sure what alphabet is doing. This implies language here but that isn't meaningfully used in any way. Perhaps, lines...

and the briny wind had given you a good sniff,
like a starved rottweiler
ravenous for a lump of fetid lamb
to take away the growls of sin and stomach,
the simile draws a lot of attention to itself. The poem just goes ahead and personifies, but then in this one location, it uses a simile.

the kind sea rushed to
embrace you - her lips and fingers in your matted hair -
and then, one big lift,
and off you drift - - -

An elegy for you, O friend:
Is this really an elegy?
O one that lies
full fathom five
with pearls for eyes - - -

And no trace - no trace -
of life's ignoble strife.
no trace is fairly accurate to what this poem does to the life, no strife
And your final lines
if you drop the last line, maybe switch "and" to "or" here.
of white and red
where is the white coming from? Remember this is getting set in the chalk and the body has been carried away.
set in the chalk
at Beachy Head - - -

No trace, no trace.

Betrayal is a bit in the offering here for the reader, because Judas is not central to this piece. As a stylized suicide it works, but I was hoping for more.

a few thoughts,
Bill

You're still trying to set white into white chalk, but I guess you don't see it.

Edit 1 might be cleaner, but I don't think it necessarily reads better.

a thought or two,
Bill

(09-05-2013, 04:39 AM)EileenGreay Wrote:  Thank you all for your feedback. I have incorporated some of your suggestions in the first edit - I can't say I'm entirely happy with the end, but I think it'll take a lot more thought and time to sort it out, so will keep thinking about it.

Edit 1:

The chalk was quite done exploring
each little chapel of your lungs,
clawing at your skin and drawing
a rudimentary alphabet upon your shattered cheeks.
The briny wind had given you a good sniff,
like a starved rottweiler
stalking about your ruined flesh,
growling at the splintered gorges of your skin.
The kind sea rushed to embrace you,
her lips and fingers woven through your matted hair.
Then, one big lift,
and off you drift - - -

And now you lie
full fathom five
with pearls for eyes.
And of your face -
no trace, no trace
of hunt or chase.

Your final lines
of white and red,
set in the chalk
at Beachy Head.


Version 1:

When the chalk was quite done exploring
each little chapel of your lungs,
clawing at your skin and drawing
a rudimentary alphabet against your shattered cheeks,
and the briny wind had given you a good sniff,
like a starved rottweiler
ravenous for a lump of fetid lamb
to take away the growls of sin and stomach,
the kind sea rushed to
embrace you - her lips and fingers in your matted hair -
and then, one big lift,
and off you drift - - -

An elegy for you, O friend:
O one that lies
full fathom five
with pearls for eyes - - -

And no trace - no trace -
of life's ignoble strife.
And your final lines
of white and red
set in the chalk
at Beachy Head - - -

No trace, no trace.

The edit is just lovely, and I like the ending, as we have drifted off and then oriented ourselves by landing at beachy head. Pretty solid stuff. The only things I can really pick at here are some unnecessaries: "quite" in L1, "little" in L2, and "kind" in L9. I don't don't think they add much, but I can still enjoy the poem, with or without them.

an excellent edit, it's hard to say which is the better but for me it's the edited version. it feels more real. the single line of no trace makes said line all the better and more final. others may not agree with me but i do think the removal of the

An elegy for you, O friend:
O one that lies

works in the poems favour

i can't see as i have any suggestions for the edit and i do think the end works well.

(09-05-2013, 04:39 AM)EileenGreay Wrote:  Thank you all for your feedback. I have incorporated some of your suggestions in the first edit - I can't say I'm entirely happy with the end, but I think it'll take a lot more thought and time to sort it out, so will keep thinking about it.

Edit 1:

The chalk was quite done exploring
each little chapel of your lungs,
clawing at your skin and drawing
a rudimentary alphabet upon your shattered cheeks.
The briny wind had given you a good sniff,
like a starved rottweiler
stalking about your ruined flesh,
growling at the splintered gorges of your skin.
The kind sea rushed to embrace you,
her lips and fingers woven through your matted hair.
Then, one big lift,
and off you drift - - -

And now you lie
full fathom five
with pearls for eyes.
And of your face -
no trace, no trace this has a kind of beauty about it.
of hunt or chase.

Your final lines
of white and red,
set in the chalk
at Beachy Head.


Version 1:

When the chalk was quite done exploring
each little chapel of your lungs,
clawing at your skin and drawing
a rudimentary alphabet against your shattered cheeks,
and the briny wind had given you a good sniff,
like a starved rottweiler
ravenous for a lump of fetid lamb
to take away the growls of sin and stomach,
the kind sea rushed to
embrace you - her lips and fingers in your matted hair -
and then, one big lift,
and off you drift - - -

An elegy for you, O friend:
O one that lies
full fathom five
with pearls for eyes - - -

And no trace - no trace -
of life's ignoble strife.
And your final lines
of white and red
set in the chalk
at Beachy Head - - -

No trace, no trace.

Bill, thank you for your feedback. I considered your thoughts on the lines "Your final lines / of white and red, /set in the chalk", but I'm afraid that I just don't find these lines problematic. Perhaps something to do with my belief that the blank white space which makes up so much of the space of poetry is as much a part of the poetic text as the words themselves? Can you see that there is such a difference between mere chalk and the chalk which gains its meaning, its beauty, its overwhelming whiteness from the splatter of blood imposed upon it? To me, this distinction is very important. I hope this offers some explanation as to how I view these lines. Your reading is, of course, every bit as valid as mine, but I do not think I'll be changing these lines.

(09-09-2013, 07:56 AM)btrudo Wrote:  You're still trying to set white into white chalk, but I guess you don't see it.

Edit 1 might be cleaner, but I don't think it necessarily reads better.

a thought or two,
Bill

Eileen, Nice edit! Although you removed the elegy line, I am glad that you still sing one, maintaining that eerie/angry dirge that is so effective. Maybe 'of red on white' instead of 'of white and red' would solve any ambiquity concerning the contrast of his final lines on chalky bluffs./Chris

Things to consider:

1. The literal still needs to makes sense unless you opting for stream of consciousness/psychedelia, I get no impression that this is trying to be psychedelic. Setting white among chalk...

2. So what was this section in the original draft? Part of the editing is going through what stuff means. Now it's your job to make it real in the poem. Where would the reader leap from "white" to the space that you're talking about? You could say that it doesn't matter much, and the reader will do whatever, but that "white space" really does become central here (more on that later).

3. What do the cliffs mean? What does the wind mean? If you want to start playing around with symbols, you need start figuring if something is important. If it's important, you better know since you're the one who has to edit the piece. Of course, some things are incidental. So why the rottweiler? What is its symbolism?

4. The cliffs are white. I haven't been to Beachy Head, but I have seen the photo. You could argue that the cliff is one giant white space, so in this sense, the poem has already established the white space and you no need to use the word "white".

Actually some of the earlier lines which you pulled in the edit, point more towards the "white space":
An elegy for you, O friend:
Since the elegy really wasn't in the poem, you have to look elsewhere.

And no trace - no trace -
of life's ignoble strife.
If you want talk about the poem putting out a neon sign, these lines are. There was no trace of life's strife in the poem. Where is it? Of course, it's in the white space. By editing the lines out, you've actually made it harder for the reader to realize the white space you're talking about.

5. Still there is some need for the poem to fill in a space. I wonder if we titled this "Sylvia Plath at Beachy Head" would this change much. Of course, the white space changes, but does the poem's interaction with the white space change much?

In past circles I've been in, we might label this "namedropping". If we can't deliver, mention some heavyweight and have the heavyweight's white space (allusions and connotations) do all the work. But at the point, is the poem holding enough of ITS weight?

As for this last point, I'm not sure. Maybe the poem is, maybe it isn't, but it should be something that you are considering. My reaction of "Betrayal is a bit in the offering here for the reader, because Judas is not central to this piece" would lead to believe that the poem is close. But I'm not sure if enough of Judas is actually IN the poem.

more thoughts,
Bill

Obvoiusly, her title implies 'Betrayal at Beachy Head'. However, "Sylvia Plath at Beachy Head" is very amusing Bill!

Hi Eileen,

I've come to this one late. Let me address the edit:

(09-05-2013, 04:39 AM)EileenGreay Wrote:  Edit 1:

The chalk was quite done exploring
each little chapel of your lungs,--beautiful language. What strikes me in the title is that perhaps the "son of perdition" was engaged in his final act of worship with his suicide. To make his lungs chapels is inspired. His breath leaving is his final act of worship.
clawing at your skin and drawing--The chalk was clawing much like fingers against a noose
a rudimentary alphabet upon your shattered cheeks.--Now we have the parallel death of throwing oneself off a cliff. I like the use of chalk as a means of drawing. Also the title makes me think of John 1:1 "In the beginning was the word..." It might be my odd associations but I think of double predestination and the futility that led to this course.
The briny wind had given you a good sniff,
like a starved rottweiler--love the simile. While I shy away from most adjectives briny is a great compact choice. Love the image here.
stalking about your ruined flesh,
growling at the splintered gorges of your skin.--gorges is interesting as it also implies the location of the act
The kind sea rushed to embrace you,--I am not fond of kind here. I also don't think you need "you" as your matted hair gets you to the same place with more economy.
her lips and fingers woven through your matted hair.--love the language choices here. I like the gentleness mixed with something truly awful.
Then, one big lift,
and off you drift - - -

And now you lie
full fathom five
with pearls for eyes.--nice rhythm throughout
And of your face -
no trace, no trace
of hunt or chase.--improvement over the original

Your final lines
of white and red,
set in the chalk
at Beachy Head.--Unlike you, I enjoyed the ending. I found it less gimmicky and more satisfying than the original.

A well put together piece. I enjoyed the read.

Best,

Todd

Thank you, all, for your feedback. It's really most useful.

Bill, I thought I'd address some of your comments here. I left out some of your thoughts which I found rather difficult to decipher. One of my thoughts is that you should perhaps be more flexible with some of your convictions. But thank you for taking the time to consider my poem and offering your feedback.

Apologies if this moves into the territory of discussion rather than being a quick response to a critique!

Quote:1. The literal still needs to makes sense unless you opting for stream of consciousness/psychedelia, I get no impression that this is trying to be psychedelic. Setting white among chalk...

I am sorry but I must completely disagree here. How simple poetry would be if it either had to make perfect literal sense or was stream of consciousness or psychedelia! No, no, no - poetic language is NOT black and white (or white and red): when we use metaphor we don't mean it to make literal sense (indeed, it is most important that it does - we need to stretch our minds to embrace this new image), but the metaphorically rich language of Keats or Wordsworth could not really be described as stream of consciousness or psychedelia; when poetry apostrophises inanimate objects the reader is not often under the impression that they are entering some drug trance. No - there is no either/or between literal sense and what you term 'stream of consciousness', but would perhaps be better described as a more abstracted style (indeed, a stream of consciousness can make perfect literal sense) - not in my poetry, and, I think you'll find, not in Milton, Spenser, Shakespeare etc. Perhaps read my lines again once you can entertain the possibility of a grey-scale? Until then I'm afraid we're just going to disagree.

I left point 2 because I could not make head nor tail of it. If you'd like a response, would you rephrase it a little more intelligibly?

Quote:3. What do the cliffs mean? What does the wind mean? If you want to start playing around with symbols, you need start figuring if something is important. If it's important, you better know since you're the one who has to edit the piece. Of course, some things are incidental. So why the rottweiler? What is its symbolism?

I don't think the poet has to explain every bit of symbolism. And even if I did explain what I think is symbolic, I can't force the reader to find the same symbolism that I do.

To your first two questions I'd say 'ask a silly question and you'll get a silly answer'. I'll briefly explain the rottweiler though. Rottweilers in Britain have a reputation of savagery and bloodthirstiness, but they are not exotic, they are commonplace. And I find that the dangers which we grow accustomed to, which we don't bat an eyelid at on the street, are truly terrifying.

Quote:4. The cliffs are white. I haven't been to Beachy Head, but I have seen the photo. You could argue that the cliff is one giant white space, so in this sense, the poem has already established the white space and you no need to use the word "white".

Ah, you have seen a photo! Perhaps I should have posted a photo of someone's mangled body at the base of Beachy Head? Indeed, why do we need words at all? We have photos now! Seriously, Bill, did you think before you wrote this? If you did, think a bit harder - I don't find my single use of the word 'white' redundant (indeed, if you're set on looking for symbolism, consider all that cultural symbolism nestled in the contrast between white and red).

Quote:Actually some of the earlier lines which you pulled in the edit, point more towards the "white space":
An elegy for you, O friend:
Since the elegy really wasn't in the poem, you have to look elsewhere.

And no trace - no trace -
of life's ignoble strife.
If you want talk about the poem putting out a neon sign, these lines are. There was no trace of life's strife in the poem. Where is it? Of course, it's in the white space. By editing the lines out, you've actually made it harder for the reader to realize the white space you're talking about.

Though I have edited this out, I suggest you might broaden your notion of 'elegy'. No, this is not written in elegiacs. No, it is not celebrating the life and mourning the passing of a great figure. But I would have thought that the words 'ignoble strife' would suggest what sort of tradition I see this poem in. Lines from Gray's Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard:

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray;
Along the cool sequester'd vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.

Gray's elegy mourns the uncelebrated, the forgotten - I guess you'd also comment underneath Gray's manuscript 'is this really an elegy?' In the strictest sense it isn't, but it is a profound meditation on loss, memory and death (all of which are central to my poem, though I would never suggest it to be in the same league!!). So, in a sense the elegy always was there - you just seemed to miss it.

Quote:5. Still there is some need for the poem to fill in a space. I wonder if we titled this "Sylvia Plath at Beachy Head" would this change much. Of course, the white space changes, but does the poem's interaction with the white space change much?

In past circles I've been in, we might label this "namedropping". If we can't deliver, mention some heavyweight and have the heavyweight's white space (allusions and connotations) do all the work. But at the point, is the poem holding enough of ITS weight?

As for this last point, I'm not sure. Maybe the poem is, maybe it isn't, but it should be something that you are considering. My reaction of "Betrayal is a bit in the offering here for the reader, because Judas is not central to this piece" would lead to believe that the poem is close. But I'm not sure if enough of Judas is actually IN the poem.

Judas is not central to the actual text, yes - this is completely deliberate of course (when you look at the gospels, don't you find that Judas is in a funny way both central and peripheral?). And, of course, what we associate with Judas is betrayal and suicide. I really don't think Sylvia Plath has quite the same associations.

(09-09-2013, 11:20 PM)EileenGreay Wrote:  Thank you, all, for your feedback. It's really most useful.

Bill, I thought I'd address some of your comments here. I left out some of your thoughts which I found rather difficult to decipher. One of my thoughts is that you should perhaps be more flexible with some of your convictions. But thank you for taking the time to consider my poem and offering your feedback.

Apologies if this moves into the territory of discussion rather than being a quick response to a critique!

Quote:1. The literal still needs to makes sense unless you opting for stream of consciousness/psychedelia, I get no impression that this is trying to be psychedelic. Setting white among chalk...

I am sorry but I must completely disagree here. How simple poetry would be if it either had to make perfect literal sense or was stream of consciousness or psychedelia! No, no, no - poetic language is NOT black and white (or white and red): when we use metaphor we don't mean it to make literal sense (indeed, it is most important that it does - we need to stretch our minds to embrace this new image), but the metaphorically rich language of Keats or Wordsworth could not really be described as stream of consciousness or psychedelia; when poetry apostrophises inanimate objects the reader is not often under the impression that they are entering some drug trance. No - there is no either/or between literal sense and what you term 'stream of consciousness', but would perhaps be better described as a more abstracted style (indeed, a stream of consciousness can make perfect literal sense) - not in my poetry, and, I think you'll find, not in Milton, Spenser, Shakespeare etc. Perhaps read my lines again once you can entertain the possibility of a grey-scale? Until then I'm afraid we're just going to disagree.
Show me all the spots where all those writers don't make literal sense particularly with their images. And if you find a spot, explain to me why they didn't.

I left point 2 because I could not make head nor tail of it. If you'd like a response, would you rephrase it a little more intelligibly?

Point 2...what in your poem, would lead the reader to make the leap from white to white space? You're the one who mentioned that's why you used it.

Quote:3. What do the cliffs mean? What does the wind mean? If you want to start playing around with symbols, you need start figuring if something is important. If it's important, you better know since you're the one who has to edit the piece. Of course, some things are incidental. So why the rottweiler? What is its symbolism?

I don't think the poet has to explain every bit of symbolism. And even if I did explain what I think is symbolic, I can't force the reader to find the same symbolism that I do.

To your first two questions I'd say 'ask a silly question and you'll get a silly answer'. I'll briefly explain the rottweiler though. Rottweilers in Britain have a reputation of savagery and bloodthirstiness, but they are not exotic, they are commonplace. And I find that the dangers which we grow accustomed to, which we don't bat an eyelid at on the street, are truly terrifying.

But you need to know if you want to have the best chance at successfully editing your work.

As for the rottweilers, now explain to me how the wind being a Rottweiler plays out in the larger themes of betrayal, white space, etc.

Quote:4. The cliffs are white. I haven't been to Beachy Head, but I have seen the photo. You could argue that the cliff is one giant white space, so in this sense, the poem has already established the white space and you no need to use the word "white".

Ah, you have seen a photo! Perhaps I should have posted a photo of someone's mangled body at the base of Beachy Head? Indeed, why do we need words at all? We have photos now! Seriously, Bill, did you think before you wrote this? If you did, think a bit harder - I don't find my single use of the word 'white' redundant (indeed, if you're set on looking for symbolism, consider all that cultural symbolism nestled in the contrast between white and red).

And you've said nothing about your choice of white.

Quote:Actually some of the earlier lines which you pulled in the edit, point more towards the "white space":
An elegy for you, O friend:
Since the elegy really wasn't in the poem, you have to look elsewhere.

And no trace - no trace -
of life's ignoble strife.
If you want talk about the poem putting out a neon sign, these lines are. There was no trace of life's strife in the poem. Where is it? Of course, it's in the white space. By editing the lines out, you've actually made it harder for the reader to realize the white space you're talking about.

Though I have edited this out, I suggest you might broaden your notion of 'elegy'. No, this is not written in elegiacs. No, it is not celebrating the life and mourning the passing of a great figure. But I would have thought that the words 'ignoble strife' would suggest what sort of tradition I see this poem in. Lines from Gray's Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard:

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray;
Along the cool sequester'd vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.

Gray's elegy mourns the uncelebrated, the forgotten - I guess you'd also comment underneath Gray's manuscript 'is this really an elegy?' In the strictest sense it isn't, but it is a profound meditation on loss, memory and death (all of which are central to my poem, though I would never suggest it to be in the same league!!). So, in a sense the elegy always was there - you just seemed to miss it.

Actually when I wrote the word "elegy", I was thinking of Thomas Gray's manuscript. Yes, his work is deeply concerned about the uncelebrated, the forgotten. So how is that illustrated in this poem?

Quote:5. Still there is some need for the poem to fill in a space. I wonder if we titled this "Sylvia Plath at Beachy Head" would this change much. Of course, the white space changes, but does the poem's interaction with the white space change much?

In past circles I've been in, we might label this "namedropping". If we can't deliver, mention some heavyweight and have the heavyweight's white space (allusions and connotations) do all the work. But at the point, is the poem holding enough of ITS weight?

As for this last point, I'm not sure. Maybe the poem is, maybe it isn't, but it should be something that you are considering. My reaction of "Betrayal is a bit in the offering here for the reader, because Judas is not central to this piece" would lead to believe that the poem is close. But I'm not sure if enough of Judas is actually IN the poem.

Judas is not central to the actual text, yes - this is completely deliberate of course (when you look at the gospels, don't you find that Judas is in a funny way both central and peripheral?). And, of course, what we associate with Judas is betrayal and suicide. I really don't think Sylvia Plath has quite the same associations.

Sylvia is noted for her suicide.

I'm going to post a poem in Discussion showing some use of the white space.
Bill

I am sorry if what I have written is unclear, Bill, but I don't think you have understood it at all. Perhaps take some time to reread my comments.

Quote:Show me all the spots where all those writers don't make literal sense particularly with their images. And if you find a spot, explain to me why they didn't.

Let me take just a single example from Milton's Paradise Lost - two incredibly famous words, wonderfully powerful: "darkness visible". This makes no literal sense. Darkness is not visible. This is a powerful paradox. This is not stream of consciousness. This is not psychedelic. We are confronted with an image that we have no idea how to form - how can we imagine darkness visible? The effect is sublime and terrifying.

Please reread my previous post and think about how metaphor, apostrophe, paradox, oxymoron (all great poetic devices) are reliant on things not making literal sense, and how we as poets can use these devices to achieve certain effects.

Quote:Point 2...what in your poem, would lead the reader to make the leap from white to white space? You're the one who mentioned that's why you used it.

I thought this would be painfully evident by now:

Your final lines
of white and red,
set in the chalk
at Beachy Head.

SO: the blood becomes ink. And when we put ink down on a white surface, that surface effectively becomes the page. SO: white chalk = the surface on which the lines are written, which becomes the blank space surrounding the lines, and together form the text. This text will be washed away, so I'm really playing on a sense of transience (this relates to your later question about what Gray has to do with this poem). I'm not sure if I can simplify this any further.

Quote:But you need to know if you want to have the best chance at successfully editing your work.

As for the rottweilers, now explain to me how the wind being a Rottweiler plays out in the larger themes of betrayal, white space, etc.

No. You need to do some reading and thinking, as is painfully evident from your comments. If you did you might realise that the wind is culturally regarded as capricious and fickle; then you might think about the term 'a biting wind'. Now what do rottweilers do? And if you misplaced your trust in a dog which turned around and bit you, would you not be betrayed?

A very good exercise for you would be to try and connect dots before you challenge a writer to connect them for you. Gosh, at least I'm alive to give you hints and suggestions! I shudder to think what your response to Keats must be - he can't tell you what "Beauty is truth, truth beauty". He's dead. Try and work it out for yourself. Now why don't you try the same approach here: work out whether the unities are there for you. I'm not going to hold your hand any longer - I can assure you they're there for me, or else I would not have written this.

Quote:And you've said nothing about your choice of white.

And you seemingly haven't read a single thing I've written. It's all there.

Quote:Actually when I wrote the word "elegy", I was thinking of Thomas Gray's manuscript. Yes, his work is deeply concerned about the uncelebrated, the forgotten. So how is that illustrated in this poem?

Read the poem and work it out. You seem to be misunderstanding what it is to read poetry. What am I saying about traces? About the sea? About memory? What does the so far unnoticed reference to The Tempest suggest?

Quote:Sylvia is noted for her suicide.

Yes, she is indeed. But Judas is an archetype of betrayal, an archetype of suicide.

There is a far more obvious figure I could have used - Dido. I didn't. Now it is for YOU to question why I chose Judas. What is it about Judas that might be useful here - betrayal? the presence of the Christian faith? an association with dirty money? misplaced trust?

As one great Furnace flam'd, yet from those flames
No light, but rather darkness visible

By the way, darkness IS visible. It may not contain any light, but is "manifest, apparent". Perceptual centers of your brain are very aware of what darkness is. It's not with darkness visible that Milton is messing with the reader. He took our very keen perceptual awareness of darkness and light and twisted them...flames with no light. And he knew exactly what he was doing when he did that.