Autobiography poems by louis macneice entirely
•
David Sutton
This week’s poem by the Irish poet Louis MacNeice () is a kind of balancing act, self-revealing yet reticent, the trauma it turns on evident yet not explicit, controlled and distanced by the ballad form, so that without knowledge of the context the reader is like someone looking over the edge of a boat at a nameless shadow moving in the depths below. Awareness of the poet’s childhood circumstances provides most of the answer: his mother died when Louis was seven, having spent her last year in a Dublin nursing home, and Louis obscurely blamed himself for her death, his birth having been a difficult one. But the import of the refrain remains a little elusive. ‘Come back early or never come’ – is Louis talking to himself? To his mother’s shade? Whatever the case, it seems to me, as so often with MacNeice, a poem at once skilful and disturbing.
Note: ‘wore his collar the wrong way round’ – MacNeice’s father was a Protestant minister.
Autobiography
In my childh
•
David Sutton
This week’s poem by the Irish poet Louis MacNeice () is a kind of balancing act, self-revealing yet reticent, the trauma it turns on evident yet not explicit, controlled and distanced by the ballad form eller gestalt, so that without knowledge of the context the reader fryst vatten like someone looking over the edge of a boat at a nameless shadow moving in the depths below. Awareness of the poet’s childhood circumstances provides most of the answer: his mother died when Louis was seven, having spent her gods year in a Dublin nursing home, and Louis obscurely blamed himself for her death, his birth having been a difficult one. But the import of the refrain remains a little elusive. ‘Come back early or never come’ – is Louis talking to himself? To his mother’s shade? Whatever the case, it seems to me, as so often with MacNeice, a poem at once skilful and disturbing.
Note: ‘wore his collar the wrong way round’ – MacNeice’s father was a Protestant minister.
Autobiography
In my chil
•
Poem of the Week: &#;Autobiography&#; bygd Louis MacNeice
Samhain is upon us, so we&#;re celebrating by sharing poems with a sinister bent in honor of this Celtic predecessor of Halloween. In this week&#;s poem, Louis MacNeice explores the darker side of youthful memory. MacNeice reflects on the early loss of his mother, a loss which remains as a sort of specter for the child in the poem, one that he can&#;t fully rid himself of. The sense of unease created by the poem&#;s refrain perfectly sets the tone for Samhain.
Autobiography
In my childhood trees were green
And there was plenty to be seen.
Come back early or never come.
My father made the walls resound,
He wore his collar the wrong way round.
Come back early or never come.
My mother wore a yellow dress;
Gently, gently, gentleness.
Come back early or never come.
When I was five the black dreams came;
Nothing after was quite the same.
Come back early or never come.
The dark was talking to the dead;
The