Sonnets about Sonnets

William Wordsworth seems to be saying that sonnets are restricting, and yet, he chooses to write in sonnet form because he must; it is in him to write sonnets, "In truth the prison, unto which we doom/Ourselves, no prison is: and hence for me,/In sundry moods, 'twas pastime to be bound/Within the sonnet's scanty plot of ground". I hear Wordsworth saying the so-called prison of sonnets, or of nunnery, or of being a maid, is not in actuality a prison. Perhaps you are doomed to be locked in by a certain fate (job, lifestyle, writing technique) but it is that fate that makes you who you are.
It was his time to be "bound" by sonnets and he doesn't regret that, just as the nun is happy in her narrow convent room- it was her choice and is her life, should she choose to spend it in way others might not is irrelevant to her happiness. Who cares if people decide not to be nuns? They shouldn't if they don't want to, but their choices and her choices are separate.
The hermit is happy alone in his home. Perhaps I would not find it a fulfilling life, but that's why I didn't choose it, he did.
I hear Wordsworth appreciating the confinements of sonnets. It's like he wanted a challenge, to have his writing narrowed into beats and lines, "Pleased if some souls (for such there needs must be)/Who have felt the weight of too much liberty,/Should find brief solace there, as I have found." I feel Wordsworth saying there need to be sonnet writers, nuns, hermits, students, maids, weavers, bees...because each to his own. He man finds his own happiness right? And however brief the happiness, however long the still eye of the storm lasts, it is a pause from that which we cannot bear. Sonnets allow Wordsworth to have some outlet of creativity that he didn't have with normal poetry. I hear Wordsworth hoping others can find the same joy in sonnet writing as he has.

Random response

I like Edna St. Vincent Millay...I liked her sonnets I think because they were sort of depressing, but in a powerful realistic sad kind of way. I liked Marvell too though, and he wasn't so depressing. I think I liked his intensity. What she, Millay, wrote about, you could tell it meant a lot to her. She was quite serious in her sorrow, no sarcasm, so you'd think they would be on the dull side but they weren't. They were just real pain. She reminisces in one of them, about happier times, but you know that she is still weighed down by this aching sorrow, which is also evident in the second sonnet. She says, "Women have loved before as I love now/.../I think, however, that of all alive/I only in such utter, ancient way/Do suffer love". I remembered it because she says she doesn't enjoy love; through her heartache she only suffers it, a suffering greater than any suffering any women before her could have felt. Bold, Millay, bold. But that makes it more stunning when you think about what she's actually saying.

This is what I would consider a classic sonnet: iambic pentameter (almost entirely throughout) and written in the early 20th century. I know, it's not Shakespeare or Donne, but it's a sonnet I'd put in with the older poets. It's not like modern sonnets, because it still has much of the ancient form to it. I think maybe that's why I like it, another reason perhaps, because I know it was written in a different time period, but a heartbreak is a heartbreak, no matter how much time might pass.

The Lake sonnet

I had every intention of searching through the sonnets, looking for examples of those defined words you gave us in class but (of course) I got distracted. I figure that's a good thing though, getting distracted, because I was so caught by a few sonnets in particular that I forgot all my aspirations of being the ideal intellectual. Instead, I opted to be the ideal "flashbacker". You see, Robert Pinsky's sonnet rather sparked a memory of mine. Well I suppose it was more of a half-memory half-dream type thing but whatever it is characterized as, I experienced it.

So maybe his sonnet was about some girl he was into, in which case I can't directly relate but of course I draw a parallel to caring about someone. That I understand. But that wasn't even the main part; maybe he's writing about some chick he's crushing on, maybe not, point being it reminded me of being at my grandparents' lake cabin. I remembered the scenery first. Those pine trees on the crest of the mountains, interspersed with other trees, ones whose names I never knew. Oak? Maple? Dogwood perhaps? Those I know. Japanese maple? Those are pretty. And I thought of the view from the lake, how peaceful everything looks from far away.

Then I remembered when I was younger, I used to lie on docks or decks and peek through the cracks. Even double-decker porches, I would always peek through to see what was hiding under it. I think I loved that I could spy on something so easily. It was like my little secret, that I was witnessing whatever happening (or lack there of) was occurring beneath me. And so he says the lake makes the same sounds under her cheeks, and I remembered the wonder and beauty that is in resting your cheek on a dock. So simple and even stupid but so wonderful because nothing changes, not the rippling water or the warm sun on your back or the stones rolling softly to shore.

He says, 'the voice of the lake, over and over' and it is a voice. A distinct pitch and consistency that makes one think, "Yes, the sounds of the lake. I'm sure of it." It makes me think, yes, that is the sound of my summer, so many summers past and so many to unfold. No one to nag me about anything beyond what is for lunch. A turkey sandwich? Or maybe chicken? Water or gatorade? The sound of my memories wrapped in the crest of each wave. And they break on shore, or lap against the dock and you just know, this is something incredible, something so infinitely difficult to capture. And somehow, Pinsky has captured this, if for no one else but me.

Privacy? In response to the comment...

Funny thing though, you can access someone's blog relatively easily via certain search engines (i.e. google "annas english blog"). makes the whole process rather creepy, eh? but i still enjoy just writing because once you get over the initial hesitation (worrying about blog expectations and unwanted viewers), you just decide to stick it to everyone and write what you want, how you want to. and it doesn't have to be right or insightful because it's a blog. and blogs are like journals right? well, besides the whole privacy deal.
you know what though? i figure, if people want to read my writing and be all intrusive then whatever. screw that because it's not like i can stop them anyway.

Curious

Here's what I wonder:
Why, if Achebe lives in the U.S. and was educated here and was a professor for quite some years and has a wife (yes, one wife) does he choose to portray these tribes as the victims?

Maybe because in some ways they are.

I wonder what Achebe's take on the whole "conflicting customs" issue is; it seems rather unclear in the book. But that last line, The Pacification of teh Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger is so stinging, you have to think he is all for the preservation of these customs, however vicious and insane we might find them to be...

But it never mentions how he came to live/study in the United States. A little missionary action for him too? If so, it doesn't seem like it turned out too horrible for him, a famous author and respected man. Curious.

Fine

Alright I've given it some thought and I have decided that you have to feel bad for Okonkwo, even if he is a piece of shit. Because no one should have their heritage taken from them; I don't mind that the inhumane aspects were destroyed, but the white people should have let them keep their customs and beliefs. I know, it sounds like I'm fence-sitting but I do have a clear viewpoint. Where do you draw the line? You draw the line when innocent people are killed. You draw the line when lives are taken before they were even given and chance and bodies are mutilated. I know that was their custom too but at some point you cannot sit back and do nothing. Tribal meetings and hunting groups are fine but abusing wives on a whim? I'm not saying the white people were right, I'm saying some aspects of the tribal customs were outdated. I stand firm in my belief that killing and the abuse had to stop, and I stand firm in my belief that otehr customs should have been considered acceptable, but I also realize that the two couldn't be. At least, not in Okonkwo's world. For his, it was all customs preserved or fight to the death. You've got to admire the principle, even if you hate the guy.
Dammit, now I like connect with him. How frustrating. I never thought I would understand the vicious-obsessive-abusive-crazed-lunatic-of-a-man that I didn't have much sympathy for until now. I tried not to feel bad for him, I really did. And then Achebe had to come in there and fuck everything over for me. Thanks a lot, Achebe, thanks a whole lot.

Okay so I know we are supposed to be focusing on the tragic aspects of this story and I don't dispute that there are indeed many. However, what about other aspects of the story?...I can't just ignore them. Believe me, I have tried and thus far have failed. I think it's just that can never leave anything alone. If I get caught up on something I just can't drop it. Have you ever seen Columbo, that murder mystery show? He always gets stuck on small seemingly insignificant points and they turn out to solve the mystery. Now, I'm not saying the things I get hung up on are significant; they very well might not be intentionally purposeful and yet Achebe must have included them for some reason.
Take for instance the tribal treatment of women in the novel. Perhaps Achebe was just meaning to write about the culture of these people, or perhaps he meant it for shock value. Or maybe he was making a point. But what point? It's these kinds of things I turn over and over in my head. I'm wondering, does he think abusive husbands are okay? Does he think it is wrong? Or, is he just depicting the lifestyle, without trying to comment on it at all? It's probably my last idea, and yet I am still remembering passages. Like the one where the men are all talking and Okonkwo says, "The world is large. I have even heard that in some tribes a man's children belong to his wife and her family." Machi responds with, "That cannot be. You might as well say that the woman lies on top of the man when they are making the children" (74). And so I think, how sick and derogatory; it matters to them who is on top. Talk about controlling every aspect of the female society. Do the women have to ask permission when they have to piss also? And to me, women generally are more suitable to care for the children, especially if the child is young. These men are ridiculous in thinking that children are property. They are people who need to be cared for. Maybe men rightfully own the land or keep track of the money or whatever, but the kids are lives that cannot be, or should not be, considered possessions. Similarly women are lives as well. Okonkwo and his equally "masculine" counterparts obviously have overlooked this vital detail. Now, I understand that men are stronger and more useful in the tribe, but logically here, NONE OF THEM would be there if the women hadn't gotten knocked up in the first place so they owe their entire society to these women.
And then, the women just take it. I mean, it's like they don't even care that they are shat all over and beaten non-stop. It's almost like, "no harm done because the women aren't hurt or offended" but then you remember that this guy is beating the living shit out of his wife and you are all, "okay, something is definately wrong here." Then Okonkwo almost shoots Ekwefi and like, TWO scenes later she is recalling the first time they did it. Sweet, Ekwefi, why don't you just roll over and asked to be beaten?
Okay, I'm being rash. It's their culture and neither the men nor the women know any better. Which brings, of course, rise to the question, what is better? Is violence bad just because we say it is? And if everyone thinks spousal abuse is wrong, what about abusing animals? killing them for religious rituals? where do you draw the line?
you know what I wish? I wish Okonkwo would just admit how fucking lucky he is, that he has a beautiful loving daughter (Ezinma) and wives that he doesn't deserve and children he shouldn't "own" and land that says he a great man. Those titles he's so obsessed with, they mean nothing if he doesn't have but the townspeople to care about them. Does he even value family? I don't care what culture you are from, you can't hurt people and expect them to always come back.