Hi Arthur,
You write: "The last line is NOT about the weather!"
Yeh, I know it's not "just" about the weather! (But it "IS" about the
weather!).
I mean it's a fine attempt at saying what's to come for the person as well
as saying there's going to be a storm - but, in the way of the poem, it
might be saying too much... over-egging the pudding so to speak. Shivering
and tightening her shawl might imply enough... (bigger smile!) Or, for me at
least, it might be working in other/misleading ways to its intended ways.
...I'm worried, y' see, because you've already mentioned the bad/bitter
weather (therefore you're going back into the poem) and I'm thinking you're
wanting your readers to focus on what she (perhaps) doesn't fully realise is
yet to come (or maybe she does know...). It's also as if bad weather (strong
winds) has more associations with storms on water and boats (and the boat
seemed to be crossing the water at a fair lick when it found the wind!) -
and I'm feeling you want readers to think "what's next."
Allusions can be made, and have to be made (I guess), but narrative detail
matters too.
I mean I've tried to read it and gauge the mention of the weather through
the poem but it doesn't seem to follow a progression of increasing its
worseness (it's just hinting at a mild April(?) morning in the second
stanza).
I guess, if you really, really, want to keep to the image of the wind rising
a long while after the boat has grounded the word "drove" (which feels so
strong to me) may have to be replaced by something less powerful.
I know all of this is making a small point but I feel (to use a boat kind of
cliche about how the poem's ending) it may be something about a hap'orth o
tar... If the last two lines (instead of just mentioning that she was ashore
for a couple of hours) gave hints at her purposeful/insistent/resigned or
whatever manner - how she walked/rode, what she saw, etc., then that may
(also) help (and, hopefully, not distract) the reader.
Bob
>From: arthur seeley <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Re: New sub: Mart Stuart crosses the Solway ( Bob)
>Date: Sat, 19 Oct 2002 14:27:54 +0100
>
>Bob, thanks for the read and thoughtful comments. The last line is NOT
>about
>the weather! and that's the only clue you are getting.<smile> Regards
>Arthur.
>----- Original Message -----
>From: "Bob Cooper" <[log in to unmask]>
>To: <[log in to unmask]>
>Sent: Saturday, October 19, 2002 11:05 AM
>Subject: Re: New sub: Mart Stuart crosses the Solway
>
>
>Hi Arthur,
>I like this poem a lot and I'm not sure why... I mean I recognise that a
>poem is drama or it is nothing but this is Drama (with a big capital D!)
>But I like the control you've exercised in using words that sort of allude
>to the kind of Romantic-Historic-Balladic kind of poetry (that could
>degenerate into a "The Lady Should-Be-Shot/The Lady Of Shallot" kind of
>pastiche) but you keep well clear of making this sound mock-Tennyson. It
>sounds like Arthur! But I'd do an adjective trawl on the thing myself (and
>demand that each one utterly justify its presence by saying that the noun
>would have a very different meaning without it) (and I'd check out
>verbs/adverbs in the same way...) and I'd tighten up the last line... we
>know the weather's bad so the first half of the line's saying it all isn't
>it?
>Bob
>
>
>
>
>
>
> >From: arthur seeley <[log in to unmask]>
> >Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
> >To: [log in to unmask]
> >Subject: New sub: Mart Stuart crosses the Solway
> >Date: Tue, 15 Oct 2002 08:37:34 +0100
> >
> >Mary Stuart crosses the Solway.
> >
> >Draughts of spiced wine warmed the failing night,
> >the thin mist chill off the waters;
> >shouts, she thought, and hooves behind
> >in the hills, that far prison in the silent loch,
> >her battle lost, she stirred and her heart
> >opened to hands upon her in the dark.
> >
> >Day broke, birds in the spring woods, sweet and loud.
> >Shipped oars glittered as the sea lifted the skiff
> >pressed it up onto the shore;
> >scrape and gnash of shingle;
> >hurried deference and whispers in the growing light;
> >long lick of tide under the keel.
> >
> >Frail bird of her hand in his,
> >a thick shawl over the cropped glory of her hair,
> >gleam of a golden cross, caught in her cold hand.
> >Her fare dismissed, he bent his head,
> >she accepted the bristled kiss upon her fingers.
> >A falcon stooped and fell like a black star.
> >
> >Hands, gnarled with bitter weather
> >and the bite of wet lines, shook out the fluttering sails,
> >the cutter found the wind, drove out across the firth,
> >left the lightening bonny banks behind.
> >An hour or more, she stepped upon her cousin's realm,
> >shivered and tightened her shawl against the cold winds rising.
>
>
>_________________________________________________________________
>Unlimited Internet access -- and 2 months free! Try MSN.
>http://resourcecenter.msn.com/access/plans/2monthsfree.asp
Hi arthur,
You write: "The last line is NOT about the weather!"
yeh, I know it's not "just" about the weather! It's a fine way of saying
what's to come for the person - but, in the way of the poem, it might be
saying too much... over-egging the pudding so to speak. Shivering and
tightening her shawl might imply enough... (bigger smile!) or (in my
imagination I'm playing with what I can use to symbolise what happens and so
I have... the keel grating until it's fast on the pebbles on the far shore -
but that's too many words!). The title is "crosses" the Solway not "is
crossing the Solway" so I want the emphasis to end with her on the other
shore!
Perhaps I'm worried because you've already mentioned the bad weather (so
you're going back into the poem) and I'm thinking you're wanting your
readers to focus on what she doesn't fully realise is yet to come.
Bob
>From: arthur seeley <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Re: New sub: Mart Stuart crosses the Solway ( Bob)
>Date: Sat, 19 Oct 2002 14:27:54 +0100
>
>Bob, thanks for the read and thoughtful comments. The last line is NOT
>about
>the weather! and that's the only clue you are getting.<smile> Regards
>Arthur.
>----- Original Message -----
>From: "Bob Cooper" <[log in to unmask]>
>To: <[log in to unmask]>
>Sent: Saturday, October 19, 2002 11:05 AM
>Subject: Re: New sub: Mart Stuart crosses the Solway
>
>
>Hi Arthur,
>I like this poem a lot and I'm not sure why... I mean I recognise that a
>poem is drama or it is nothing but this is Drama (with a big capital D!)
>But I like the control you've exercised in using words that sort of allude
>to the kind of Romantic-Historic-Balladic kind of poetry (that could
>degenerate into a "The Lady Should-Be-Shot/The Lady Of Shallot" kind of
>pastiche) but you keep well clear of making this sound mock-Tennyson. It
>sounds like Arthur! But I'd do an adjective trawl on the thing myself (and
>demand that each one utterly justify its presence by saying that the noun
>would have a very different meaning without it) (and I'd check out
>verbs/adverbs in the same way...) and I'd tighten up the last line... we
>know the weather's bad so the first half of the line's saying it all isn't
>it?
>Bob
>
>
>
>
>
>
> >From: arthur seeley <[log in to unmask]>
> >Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
> >To: [log in to unmask]
> >Subject: New sub: Mart Stuart crosses the Solway
> >Date: Tue, 15 Oct 2002 08:37:34 +0100
> >
> >Mary Stuart crosses the Solway.
> >
> >Draughts of spiced wine warmed the failing night,
> >the thin mist chill off the waters;
> >shouts, she thought, and hooves behind
> >in the hills, that far prison in the silent loch,
> >her battle lost, she stirred and her heart
> >opened to hands upon her in the dark.
> >
> >Day broke, birds in the spring woods, sweet and loud.
> >Shipped oars glittered as the sea lifted the skiff
> >pressed it up onto the shore;
> >scrape and gnash of shingle;
> >hurried deference and whispers in the growing light;
> >long lick of tide under the keel.
> >
> >Frail bird of her hand in his,
> >a thick shawl over the cropped glory of her hair,
> >gleam of a golden cross, caught in her cold hand.
> >Her fare dismissed, he bent his head,
> >she accepted the bristled kiss upon her fingers.
> >A falcon stooped and fell like a black star.
> >
> >Hands, gnarled with bitter weather
> >and the bite of wet lines, shook out the fluttering sails,
> >the cutter found the wind, drove out across the firth,
> >left the lightening bonny banks behind.
> >An hour or more, she stepped upon her cousin's realm,
> >shivered and tightened her shawl against the cold winds rising.
>
>
>_________________________________________________________________
>Unlimited Internet access -- and 2 months free! Try MSN.
>http://resourcecenter.msn.com/access/plans/2monthsfree.asp
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