Robert Frost (1874–1963)

A Boy’s Will1913

Read with English Seminars

Jagiellonian University(Krakow) &

Łodz University (Łodz)

February 2008To continue on-line

1874–1963 Born in San Francisco, family moved to Massachusetts after the death of his father. Dartmouth college, Hanover, New Hampshire, for less than one term. Back in Massachusetts taught school, worked in a factory, and as a journalist.

1894: published first poem, *Butterfly: An Elegy . 1897: Harvard College, Cambridge, Massachusetts, for just short of two years. 1899: farmed and wrote much of his early work during this time.

Failed at farming, turned to teaching again 1906: published two early poems, The Tuft of Flowers and *The Trial by Existence . 1912: moved his family to England 1913: published A Boy's Will in England.1915: back in USA published North of Boston- praised by editors,critics in New York & Boston. 1924: Pulitzer Prize for New Hampshire.1931 for Collected Poems, 1937 for A Further Range1943 for A Witness Tree. His best-known works are Mending Wall, The Road Not Taken, and Stopping By Woods . (adapted from bio by: VampireRed) Burial:Old Bennington Cemetery BenningtonBennington County, Vermont, USA

*Two early poems included in the first book, A Boy’s Will 1913 (England), 1915 (USA).

Robert Frost on the farm in New England: A web site

http://robertfrostfarm.org/frosthistory.html

The farmhouse in Derryhttp://www.frostfriends.org/derry.html

Exhibition from University of Virginia on-line with places & times & images changing through time

http://www.lib.virginia.edu/small/exhibits/frost/english.html

Frost long a friend of my teacher Reuben Brower & looked much as at left here when I met him

A BOY'S WILL1913Aside from Twilight, of which only one copy survives, the first published book of Robert Frost was A Boy's Will (London, 1913), issued when Frost was approaching forty. That this little book and its follower North of Boston (1914) created a revolution in American poetry is putting it mildly. Frost left America for England in 1912, unknown and unheralded. He returned in 1915 an established poet who went on from strength to strength to become the major American poet of this century.

New York, 1959Frost dedicated this book to his mother Belle Moodie Frost “who knew as a teacher that no poetry was good for children that wasn't equally good for their elders."

First edition 1913The author's first book got published in England where the 40 year old poet was living in a bungalow at Beaconsfield. Praised by expatriate poet Ezra Pound, who helped assure success.

First book by Frost:

a query—in what sense if any can it be said to be a ‘Poetry Book’?

Another query: why does poet nearing 40 years of age entitle first book ABoy’s Will?

A Few Works that Have Shaped how I Think

The Anatomy of CriticismNorthrup Frye, Princeton University Press 1957

Metaphors We Live ByGeorge Lakoff & Mark Turner, University of Chicago Press

1983

Mappings in Thought and Languageby Gilles Fauconnier, Cambridge University Press, 1997

The Way We Think: Conceptual Blending and the Mind’s Hidden Complexities

by Gilles Fauconnier & Mark Turner, New York: Basic Books, 2002

Poetry Books: Some Formative Moments

• Alexandria (c3-2 BCE): • new Greek capital of ancient Egypt • • Rome (c1 BCE-c1 CE)— New libraries &

poets

• Renaissance to Modern (very limited sample)

Alexandria (c3-2 BCE): new Greek capital of ancient Egypt

New Greek kings ruling old Egypt, founded & financed first library & museum as cultural-political tools of power:

book = papyrus roll = scroll, cf. tome (‘cut’ Greek) & volume (‘roll’ Latin)

Scholar-poets in new libraryCollect & order works of othersCompose to fit together own works

Callimachus: hymns, etiologies (causes), iambsMetapoetic tale (etiology for poetic craft)‘When I first put tablet on knee Apollo ordered me to keep text

thin, victim fat’[not known to Frost since generally known after 2nd Word War, but important for Roman poets he must have known] Posidippus, Meleager: epigrams

Alexandria (c3-2 BCE): new Greek capital of ancient Egypt

Theocritus of Syracuse (Sicily): Bucolics (epos of herdsmen) [likely known to Frost, since prominent in tradition]

Metapoetic tale (etiology for peculiar kind of poetic craft) young man travels from city to country gets authority for poetic craft froma smelly goatherd−Lycidas− familiar of Muses (idyll 7)

Metapoetic tale (etiology for peculiar kind of poetic craft)Dying of struggle with love, cowherd Daphnisprays god Pan to come to Sicily from Arcadia in Greeceto reclaim the ‘panpipe’ =syrinx, fistula, zampogna (idyll 1)

Chrono(time)tope(place): chronotope = time & place coordinatese.g., ‘Once upon a time…’ or ‘One time when I was going…’But in etiology &/or cosmology: ‘God first…’ or ‘When first…’[first=‘most before’, cf. pro, proto, protiston, pre-]

Rome (c1 BCE-c1 CE)— New libraries & poets

Catullus: one scroll, three parts—short lyrics/long various pieces/epigrams

Virgil: Bucolics —ten eclogues (pastoral poems)[likely known to Frost, since prominent in tradition &

Frost studied & even taught Latin]i-ii-iii-IIII-V / VI-vii-viii-viiii-Xmetapoetic tale (etiology for poetic craft):

old man (Tityrus) travels from country to city gets (Roman) authority for poetic craft (ecl. 1)

metapoetic tale (etiology for poetic craft)old herdsman (sc. Theocritus) died & left legacyof panpipe to young singer (sc. Virgil, ecl. 2)

metapoetic shiftplace of song from Sicily & Italy (Theocritus) to Arcadia (Virgil, only in eclogue 10)

Horace: Epodes, Satires (2 books), Odes (4 books), Epistles (2 books)

Propertius: Elegies (4 books),Ovid: ElegiesCalpurnius: Bucolics —seven eclogues

Renaissance to Modern

• A few poetic books:• Petrarca Bucolicum Carmen (12 eclogues)• Boccaccio Bucolicum Carmen (16 eclogues)• MantuanAdolescentia seu bucolica. (10 eclogues, Mantua,

1498)• Sannazaro, Eclogae piscatoriae (fishermen eclogues, Napoli) • Barclay, Alexander. Eclogues. ?1515, 1521. (5 pieces) • Giovanni della Casa Carminum Liber (16 poems, 1564)• Spenser, The Shepheardes Calendar (12 aeglogues, 1579)• Drayton, Michael. Idea, The Shepheards Garland: Fashioned

in Nine Eglogs. 1593. • Mary Wortley Montague Town Eclogues (6 in 1747)• W. Antony (David Mus) The Arminarm Eclogues (9 + 1, 1971)

What makes for a poetry book—features that structure & construct

to look for too in Frost’s first book/ks

Openers: chronotopes (time & space)metapoetic tales—etiologies for poetic crafte.g. travel from & to, authorizing encounters,

dreamsDevelopments:

motifs repeat & change (vary)“Parts” defined by poet

Closural markers (themes, e.g. End of process, of day, of life): Poems as structuring units

First & last in whole book First & last in “parts”

A quick glance at Boy’s Will as a wholePart I

1] Into My Own motion apart (metapoetic)2] Ghost House place & time apart (metap)

19] Mowing work: chores, tasks (georgic)20] Going for Water move apart: (metapoetic)

Part II 21] Revelation ‘unveil’ (cognitive claim)    He resolves to become intelligible, at least to himself, 22] The Trial by Existence (1906)

and to know definitely what he thinks about the soul26] Pan with Us (metapoetic: god in Theocritus &

Virgil)about art (his own);

27] The Demiurge’s Laugh [     about science.Part III

28] Now Close the Windows (metapoetic)     It is time to make an end of speaking.

32] Reluctance (metapoetic: perfect tense, travel done)

OUT through the fields and the woods  And over the walls I have wended;

Part I [in more detail]

1] Into My Own   The youth is persuaded that he will be rather more than less himself for having forsworn the world.

ONE of my wishes is that those dark trees, [far place]So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze, [far time]

2] Ghost House He is happy in society of his choosing.

I DWELL in a lonely house I know [far place]That vanished many a summer ago,…………….[far time]

19] Mowing He takes up life simply with the small tasks.

THERE was never a sound beside the wood but one, [picks out]And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground

[time]

20] Going for Water [move near to far]THE WELL was dry beside the door,  [metapoetic:

inspiration]And so we went with pail and can

Part II [only, in more detail]21] Revelation

    He resolves to become intelligible, at least to himself, since there is no help else;

WE make ourselves a place apart   [‘make’ poesis; place]

Behind light words that tease and flout, [metaphor: displaced]

22] The Trial by Existence (1906)and to know definitely what he thinks about the soul;

about love; about fellowship; about death;

26] Pan with Us about art (his own);

PAN came out of the woods one day,— [move from far place]

His skin and his hair and his eyes were gray, [old time hinted]

27] The Demiurge’s Laugh     about science.

IT was far in the sameness of the wood;  [move far, woods]I was running with joy on the Demon’s trail, [unique feeling]

Part III [only, in more detail, with last two pieces]28] Now Close the Windows [closural (metapoetic)]

    It is time to make an end of speaking. NOW close the windows and hush all the fields;  If the trees must, let them silently toss; [woods w/o sounds, ecl. 9]

29] A Line-storm Song     It is the autumnal mood with a difference. [move but forlorn]THE LINE-STORM clouds fly tattered and swift,  The road is forlorn all day,

31] My Butterfly (An elegy, 1894) [closural: death ultimate motif]    There are things that can never be the same. THINE emulous fond flowers are dead, too,And the daft sun-assaulter, he

32] Reluctance [metapoetic: travel completed]OUT through the fields and the woods  And over the walls I have wended;

Into My Own [part I.1](The youth is persuaded that he will be rather

more than less himself for having forsworn the world.)

•

• .

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.

Ghost House [1/2: part I.2]He is happy in society of his choosing

I DWELL in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago, And left no trace but 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 heartIn 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; 15

[Ghost House 2/2] The whippoorwill is coming to shoutAnd hush and cluck and flutter about: I hear him begin far enough away Full many a time to say his sayBefore he arrives to say it out. 20 It is under the small, dim, summer star.I know not who these mute folk are Who share the unlit place with me— Those stones out under the low-limbed treeDoubtless bear names that the mosses mar. 25

They are tireless folk, but slow and sad,Though 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. 30

19. Mowing [part I.next-last]

He takes up life simply with the small tasks.

THERE was never a sound beside the wood but one,And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground.What was it it whispered? I knew not well myself;Perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun,Something, perhaps, about the lack of sound— 5And that was why it whispered and did not speak.It was no dream of the gift of idle hours,Or easy gold at the hand of fay or elf:Anything more than the truth would have seemed too weak

To the earnest love that laid the swale in rows, 10Not without feeble-pointed spikes of flowers(Pale orchises), and scared a bright green snake.The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows.My long scythe whispered and left the hay to make.

20] Going for Water [1/2: part I.last]

THE WELL was dry beside the door, And so we went with pail and canAcross the fields behind the house To seek the brook if still it ran; Not loth to have excuse to go, 5 Because the autumn eve was fair(Though chill), because the fields were ours, And by the brook our woods were there. We ran as if to meet the moon That slowly dawned behind the trees, 10The barren boughs without the leaves, Without the birds, without the breeze.

[20, Going for water, 2/2]

But once within the wood, we paused Like gnomes that hid us from the moon,Ready to run to hiding new 15 With laughter when she found us soon. Each laid on other a staying hand To listen ere we dared to look,And in the hush we joined to make We heard, we knew we heard the brook. 20

[end of Part I]

Part II.1

21. Revelation

WE make ourselves a place apart Behind light words that tease and flout,But oh, the agitated heart Till someone find us really out. ’Tis pity if the case require 5 (Or so we say) that in the endWe speak the literal to inspire The understanding of a friend. But so with all, from babes that play At hide-and-seek to God afar, 10So all who hide too well away Must speak and tell us where they are.

26. Pan with Us [1/2: Part II.next last] PAN came out of the woods one day,—His skin and his hair and his eyes were gray,The gray of the moss of walls were they,— And stood in the sun and looked his fill At wooded valley and wooded hill. 5 He stood in the zephyr, pipes in hand,On a height of naked pasture land;In all the country he did command He saw no smoke and he saw no roof. That was well! and he stamped a hoof. 10 His heart knew peace, for none came hereTo this lean feeding save once a yearSomeone to salt the half-wild steer, Or homespun children with clicking pails Who see no little they tell no tales. 15

[2/2 Pan with us, Part II.next last] He tossed his pipes, too hard to teachA new-world song, far out of reach,For a sylvan sign that the blue jay’s screech And the whimper of hawks beside the sun Were music enough for him, for one. 20 Times were changed from what they were:Such pipes kept less of power to stirThe fruited bough of the juniper And the fragile bluets clustered there Than the merest aimless breath of air. 25 They were pipes of pagan mirth,And the world had found new terms of worth.He laid him down on the sun-burned earth And ravelled a flower and looked away— Play? Play?—What should he play? 30

27. The Demiurge’s Laugh [1/1: Part II, last] IT was far in the sameness of the wood; I was running with joy on the Demon’s trail,Though I knew what I hunted was no true god. It was just as the light was beginning to failThat I suddenly heard—all I needed to hear: 5It has lasted me many and many a year. The sound was behind me instead of before, A sleepy sound, but mocking half,As of one who utterly couldn’t care. The Demon arose from his wallow to laugh, 10Brushing the dirt from his eye as he went;And well I knew what the Demon meant. I shall not forget how his laugh rang out. I felt as a fool to have been so caught,And checked my steps to make pretence 15 It was something among the leaves I sought(Though doubtful whether he stayed to see).Thereafter I sat me against a tree.

Part III.1

28. Now Close the Windows NOW close the windows and hush all the fields; If the trees must, let them silently toss;No bird is singing now, and if there is, Be it my loss. It will be long ere the marshes resume, 5 It will be long ere the earliest bird:So close the windows and not hear the wind, But see all wind-stirred.

[Part III.2: 1/2 29. A Line-storm Song THE LINE-STORM clouds fly tattered and swift, The road is forlorn all day,Where a myriad snowy quartz stones lift, And the hoof-prints vanish away.The roadside flowers, too wet for the bee, 5 Expend their bloom in vain.Come over the hills and far with me, And be my love in the rain. The birds have less to say for themselves In the wood-world’s torn despair 10Than now these numberless years the elves, Although they are no less there:All song of the woods is crushed like some Wild, easily shattered rose.Come, be my love in the wet woods; come, 15 Where the boughs rain when it blows.

[Part III. 2=29: 2/2 Line Storm]There is the gale to urge behind And bruit our singing down,And the shallow waters aflutter with wind From which to gather your gown. 20What matter if we go clear to the west, And come not through dry-shod?For wilding brooch shall wet your breast The rain-fresh goldenrod. Oh, never this whelming east wind swells 25 But it seems like the sea’s returnTo the ancient lands where it left the shells Before the age of the fern;And it seems like the time when after doubt Our love came back amain. 30Oh, come forth into the storm and rout And be my love in the rain.

-Part III.next last: 31 My Butterfly 1894

32. Reluctance (part III last) OUT through the fields and the woods And over the walls I have wended;I have climbed the hills of view And looked at the world, and descended;I have come by the highway home, 5 And lo, it is ended. The leaves are all dead on the ground, Save those that the oak is keepingTo ravel them one by one And let them go scraping and creeping 10Out over the crusted snow, When others are sleeping.

Part III.last: 32 Reluctance, 2/2]

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still, No longer blown hither and thither;The last lone aster is gone; 15 The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;The heart is still aching to seek, But the feet question ‘Whither?’ Ah, when to the heart of man Was it ever less than a treason 20To go with the drift of things, To yield with a grace to reason,And bow and accept the end Of a love or a season?

The Rhodora: On Being Asked, Whence Is the Flower?

In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,To please the desert and the sluggish brook. MRThe purple petals, fallen in the pool,Made the black water with their beauty gay;Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,[red=hot]And court the flower that cheapens his array. MR2xRhodora! if the sages ask thee whyThis charm is wasted on the earth and sky, [cf ‘desert’ & ‘brook’]Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, [‘eyes’ & ‘seeing’ natural]Then Beauty is its own excuse for being: [cultural value, not natural]Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose! [MR]I never thought to ask, I never knew:But, in my simple ignorance, supposeThe self same Power that brought me there brought you.[sc God, but Darwin, Linnaeus]~Ralph Waldo Emerson