Dismantling W.C. Williams' Red Wheelbarrow: A Formalist/ New Critic's Approach

Hello, student-critics. Kudos for the well-written critical analysis of Whitman's "O Captain! My Captain!"

         Your next task is to do a "close reading" of William Carlos Williams' imagist poem, "The Red Wheelbarrow," a poem that was subjected to so much critical rejection in terms of interpretation. This poem is, however, the quintessential example of a "formalist" poem, because the only way to make sense of it is to look at it through the formalist's/ new critic's lens.

         Applying the basic premise of the Formalist/ New Criticism Approach discussed in class, analyze and interpret this poem. As much as possible, please DO AWAY WITH CONSULTING PROFESSIONAL CRITICS' ANALYSES. Post your critical analysis as comment. This exercise is worth 20 points.

so much depends

upon

a red wheel

barrow

glazed with rain

water

beside the white

chickens.

O, Captain! My Captain! -- A Closer Look

Welcome to Quills and Parchment!

Study the following poem and answer the question that follows. Post your response as comment.

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

But I, with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Which of the three approaches discussed in class would be most helpful to the critic trying to make sense of the above poem (Traditional, Historical, Biographical? Justify your choice/s.

[NOTE: Please indicate your name and your partner's name at the end of your comment/response. This assignment is worth 20 points.]

 

Threesome Erotica

i. Dick and My Onion Soup

On a cold, rainy night like this,

Dick tucks in to my onion soup.

He loves onion soup, my Dick

He loves to dip his hard-crust bread

In my bowl of piping hot homemade goodness

And he'd ask me to blow it for him if it's too hot

Or if he simply wants to tickle me pink

And  I find it really cute when he does that,

My Dick.

ii. Hot Kitchen

the young wife sits at the kitchen counter,

beating the hell out of a clove of garlic;

her young husband sits, stroking Kitty on his lap

(Kitty purrs...), and

the beating on the chopping board goes ballistic...

the pan sizzles (oil's really hot now!), and

garlic goes into the pan

(garlic burns...), and

Kitty purrs some more, begging

begging for more petting, rocking

rocking to the sound of the garlic sizzling

sizzling in the pan of oil, hissing...

hissing, sizzling, purring...

(purr, Kitty, purr...)

iii. Bodyscape

 

The Tongue knows
That the Valley between
The Breasts leads us to that
Familiar place: that sultry Savanna
South of the Navel, where a River runs
Delightfully deep, dark, and dangerous. . .
There, behind the lush tropical foliage, the
Hand might guesstimate this River’s breadth and
Depth, using as reference the Banks: Thighs
That part wilfully, whimsically, wantonly...
Wanting, wanting, wanting so much to be
Explored by the adventurous Fingers
That fear nothing but the
Failure to effect a
Tremor, a spasm
Of some sort
Down the
Depths,
Which
That
Thing
‘tween
Thy
Thighs
Will
Soon
Invade.

* * * * *

---From Odes to the Flesh, a collection of unpublished erotic poems by Suri Nahunte

Hide and Seek

Hide and seek:

a foolish game---

I hide, you hide,

We seek each other.

Author's Note:

I sent this haiku to my former college literature teacher back in 2001. I hero-worshipped him since my college days. Five years after I graduated, he encouraged me to join the DLSU Iyas Creative Writing Workshop and actually helped me make it to the shortlist. I got in as one of the 10 fellows selected nationwide. We exchanged and discussed poetry afterwards, went out to dinner...and broke each other's heart. This haiku started it all. He is now happily married to a woman he thinks he loves. 

--Suri Nahunte

WELCOME, FELLOWS!

I am pleased to welcome you, kindred spirits, to our literary group blog, which is officially born today, 16 November 2010. This is actually more of a re-birth, as I simply revived my old group blog.

Let this be a liberating lifetime experience for all of us. CARPE DIEM!