Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Death Be Not Proud

Anna Cantwell
Mrs. Jernigan
AP English Lit
23 February 2011
Death Be Not Proud
“Death Be Not Proud” is the title of John Donne’s infamous denouncement of death itself. Written in the Petrarchan sonnet style, it flows seamlessly—almost so seamlessly that one might not recognize the irony and paradox prevalent in the sonnet. Donne allows in his initial claim that some do dub death a mighty entity to be feared; however, he states this isn’t so. Those who fear death fall claim to it, for death represents much more than a coffin in the ground, but the ending of a life on earth. Perhaps this is why Donne even denounces death in the first place. Death cannot but kill a body and never a soul. In fact, the paradox rests that death is a form of birth, birth into a new life.
The rhyme scheme (a b b a a b b a) goes back in forth to mirror this wavering line of death and life in the body, and death and life in the soul. He taunts death with the question of his own existent—can anyone really die? Those he “[overthrows] die not”. Therefore, death must truly hang his head low, for he cannot fully accomplish the purpose of his very existence.
Further, Donne argues that even in death, we experience pleasure (hopefully); death releases us from the terrors and tribulations, burdens and boundaries of earth. Our bones may now rest and our soul is delivered to its final resting place.
The volta comes when Donne addresses Fate and Chance. While we may see ourselves as being slave to Death, Fate and Chance enslave him. At this point Donne no longer begs for a lack of pride, but boasts in the worthlessness and foolishness of Death.
My favorite line is “One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally”. Our souls sleep for our earthly life because this isn’t their final destination. Ironically enough, we are more alive, awake, aware after we are dead—so should we not thank Death? Death aims to bind us, but frees us; death attempts to frighten us, yet we should welcome it. Death takes us home

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Poetry Response- "My Last Duchess"

Anna Cantwell
Mrs. Jernigan
AP English Lit
8 February 2011
My Last Duchess
Through a little research, I discovered that Robert Browning’s intended speaker in his poem “My Last Duchess” is the Duke of Ferrara. This Duke addresses a duchess, presumably pictured in a portrait on the wall. While he initially looked upon her with countenance, now he gazes on her in wonder. He seems to appreciate this work of a so-called Fra Pandolf , a fictional painter. The 28 couplets of rhymed iambic pentameter provide a regular fluency that almost lulls the reader into a sense of trust for the entirety of the poem. Browning establishes ethos for the Duke by citing references to the Duchess from her portrait painter Fra Pandolf.
About a third of the way through the poem, the Duke switches gears—he begins analyzing Fra Pandolf. He dubs her “too easily impressed,” even though it sounds like it might be a little too difficult for the Duke to be impressed. Browning employs rhetorical questions and parenthetical asides to assert the Duke’s pompous pride. Additionally, Browning heightened diction creates an air of elevated rank. The Duke declares, “I choose to never stoop”; this is the point where the Duke loses any shred of the reader’s pity.
At this point Browning once again alters the focus and reverses back to the Duchess on the wall. The Duke beckons her from the paint and addresses her so firmly, calling her “[his] object”. He finishes the poem with a reference to Neptune, the Roman god of the sea, who tames a sea-horse, and the Duke reckons that he can tame this Duchess too, just as Fra Pandolf captured her in paint and Claus of Innsbruck cast in a sculpture. At the heart of it, this poem speaks to the unbridled human spirit in a time when all had to be kept under wraps, tightly wound, and stuffed away.

Friday, February 4, 2011

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Poetry Response- Dramatic Monologue

Anna Cantwell
Mrs. Jernigan
AP English Lit
1 February 2011
A Dramatic Monologue
In the brief, yet potent poem entitled “Hazel Tells LaVerne” by Katharyn Howd Machan, a woman recalls her unique experience with a frog. She addresses the reader as though she were calling up her best friend on her cell phone to spill the latest gossip. Based on her dialect and tone, one can assume she is African-American, with exclamations like “sohelpmegod” and “ya little green pervert.”
I envision a slightly rotund and entirely sassy African-American maid—she says she is in the process of cleaning a “howard johnson ladies room”—who doesn’t know why this frog is talking to her or how he can think she’s a princess or how crazy he must be to ask for a kiss, but she is not here to mess around. Her colloquial tone, exclamatory nature, and spunky attitude reveal her honest and clean-cut personality. She is no-nonsense and doesn’t plan on taking any attitude from anyone—not even a frog.
Machan infuses the poem with a childlike quality, playing up the speaker’s accent to intensify the relation to the reader; the reader can identify easily with her. Despite the playfulness of the poem, a richer thread unravels near the end. The speaker scoffs at the idea of this frog, no matter how unreliable this animal could seem, believing she is a princess. Her shrouded insecurity provides a deeper meaning and relation to the reader.