10-30-2016, 12:12 PM
"Frost is all about using meter to make it sound like people are talking."
Seems right to me.
When speaking in a conversational way, two itsy-bitsy syllables tend to take about the same
amount of time to say as one larger one. So it's pretty common to substitute an anapest with
two short un-stressed syllables (di-di-dah) for an iamb (di-dah). In fact, if you don't do that,
it tends to read awkwardly.
But there are some other reasons to vary meter as well. One is to purposefully interrupt the
reader's complacency, the comfortable rhythm they've settled into, in order to make them stumble,
to make them pay attention to, to emphasize, a specific line. (Emily Dickinson -- along with
her slant rhymes, variable-length dashes, and her use of upper-case for emphasis -- just loved to do this.)
And (in even more general) adhering to a strict rhythm often comes across as sing-song. It's the same
problem musicians run into when trying to use a synthetic drum machine. A human drummer (singer, speaker)
can adjust their beat, their emphasis, to fall slightly before or after where a listener would expect
the beat to occur. They do this not just to add life, but to manipulate your emotions. (Scientific
studies having shown this to be very effective when used in political speeches.)
Shakespeare is famous for taking wild liberties with his iambic pentameter. But then, writing that it is
meant to be delivered to an audience by spoken voice can afford to take wild liberties, because there's
an actor (singer, speaker) to lend their own rhythm to them, to make sure and run those itty-bitty syllables
together so the whole damn thing works properly. (I think writing this way, even if it isn't delivered by some
intermediary, is a signal to the reader to read it aloud to themselves; it's a way to convey spoken word on
the page -- poetry has always been more about singing than reading anyway.)
I frequently start a poem in rather casual free verse and then gradually transition it into strict meter.
In these days of rampant free verse, this is a way to be able to write in meter without calling the reader's
attention to it, without triggering their stereotypical dislike for it.
But my main reason for doing it is to be able to transition between casual and serious, effusive and focused --
to really emphasize the content in the latter part of my poem. Starting in strict meter doesn't allow you to
use this tool (unless you intend to free the reader at the end instead of trap them
).
So, as always, it's about bending the reader to your will, making them your bitch.
Seems right to me.
When speaking in a conversational way, two itsy-bitsy syllables tend to take about the same
amount of time to say as one larger one. So it's pretty common to substitute an anapest with
two short un-stressed syllables (di-di-dah) for an iamb (di-dah). In fact, if you don't do that,
it tends to read awkwardly.
But there are some other reasons to vary meter as well. One is to purposefully interrupt the
reader's complacency, the comfortable rhythm they've settled into, in order to make them stumble,
to make them pay attention to, to emphasize, a specific line. (Emily Dickinson -- along with
her slant rhymes, variable-length dashes, and her use of upper-case for emphasis -- just loved to do this.)
And (in even more general) adhering to a strict rhythm often comes across as sing-song. It's the same
problem musicians run into when trying to use a synthetic drum machine. A human drummer (singer, speaker)
can adjust their beat, their emphasis, to fall slightly before or after where a listener would expect
the beat to occur. They do this not just to add life, but to manipulate your emotions. (Scientific
studies having shown this to be very effective when used in political speeches.)
Shakespeare is famous for taking wild liberties with his iambic pentameter. But then, writing that it is
meant to be delivered to an audience by spoken voice can afford to take wild liberties, because there's
an actor (singer, speaker) to lend their own rhythm to them, to make sure and run those itty-bitty syllables
together so the whole damn thing works properly. (I think writing this way, even if it isn't delivered by some
intermediary, is a signal to the reader to read it aloud to themselves; it's a way to convey spoken word on
the page -- poetry has always been more about singing than reading anyway.)
I frequently start a poem in rather casual free verse and then gradually transition it into strict meter.
In these days of rampant free verse, this is a way to be able to write in meter without calling the reader's
attention to it, without triggering their stereotypical dislike for it.
But my main reason for doing it is to be able to transition between casual and serious, effusive and focused --
to really emphasize the content in the latter part of my poem. Starting in strict meter doesn't allow you to
use this tool (unless you intend to free the reader at the end instead of trap them
). So, as always, it's about bending the reader to your will, making them your bitch.
a brightly colored fungus that grows in bark inclusions