Literature CCE 1
Literature CCE 1
Q6: Give the critical appreciation of the poem ‘Prayer for my Daughter’
by W.B.Yeats.
A Prayer for My Daughter' is one of the most significant poems of William Butler Yeats.
This poem was composed by the poet soon after the birth of his first daughter on 26
February, 1919. This poem was composed by Yeats soon after the composition of another
significant poem 'The Second Coming'. In that poem the poet said that the ceremony of
innocence is drowned'. But in this poem he speaks about innocence as the chief laurel of
his daughter:
Yeats begins the poem with the image of his newly-born daughter sleeping calmly and
peacefully in her cradle while a fierce storm rages outside. The intensity of the storm
brings into the mind the idea that the world is about to come to an end:
Then the poet speaks about what qualities he wants his daughter to possess. He wants that
his daughter should be beautiful. But he hastens to add that he does not want her to be
beautiful to the extent of making others distraught:
May she be granted beauty and yet not
Beauty to make a stranger's eye distraught.
Then the poet gives examples of beautiful women of the world who have become foolish
contemplating of their unearthly and divine beauty. He gives the examples of Helen of
Troy and Venus, the goddess of love and beauty. While the first, because of her
foolishness caused a war, the latter married a lame footed ironsmith named Vulcan.
Then the poet wants that hatred should be banished from the heart of his daughter. Only
in this way is the soul able to recover primal innocence, the innocence possessed by Eve
before she ate the fruit of the forbidden tree:
Thus, we find the poet praising courtesy, charm, wisdom and kindness as the chief
attributes of a really beautiful woman. The idea is that beautiful women should not
despoil the subjectivity of their nature "by the politics of objectivity or sacrifice the unity
of their beings to cause outside themselves." The poem is written in a lyric form
containing ten stanzas with eight lines in each stanza. The poem follows a regular rhyme
scheme, which is AABBCDDC. The meter of this poem alternates between iambi
pentameter and trochaic pentameter, as in
The poem is rich in the use of literary devices such as symbolism, personification,
paradox, sibilance, alliteration and onomatopoeia.
W. B. Yeats was troubled and horrified about the postwar situation in the western world.
There was change, chaos and turbulence in the society, and the world was becoming harsher
and a coarse place to live in.
In this poem, Yeats's speaker is considering the various qualities he would like his infant
daughter to possess, for her sake. He wants her to be a woman capable of supporting herself in
the world; a woman who will have qualities that draw people to her, but which do not make her
prideful or cause her to be thought of as less than she is, or as a trophy — he alludes to Helen,
who was too beautiful, and as a result drew trouble from "fools."
Yeats's speaker wants his daughter to be intelligent, but he hopes for a certain kind of
intelligence for her. He does not want her to harbour any form of "intellectual hatred," which
is, he says, "the worst." By this, he means that he doesn't want her to feel that, because she is
intelligent, she is therefore superior to others. Intellectual hatred is connected, in Yeats's mind,
to "opinions," which he hopes his daughter will think "accursed." He means by this that he
doesn't want her to be the kind of opinionated person who would set herself above someone
else because of a difference of opinion, nor someone who thinks herself intellectually superior
to someone because of a difference of moral argument, regardless of actual intelligence. This
kind of attitude can turn a person into a "bellows" whose output is little more than "angry
wind."
In "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," the lines "women come and go / talking of
Michelangelo" symbolize the contrast between the idle chatter of Prufrock's everyday life and
the unattainable magnificence for which he longs.
In "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," these lines occur twice, each time as a separate
stanza:
The literal meaning of these lines is clear, though even on a basic level, they raise some
questions. Are the same women coming and going through a particular room, or are there
different women, all of them similar in their interests and conversation, passing through? Are
they all talking of Michelangelo because there has been a recent exhibit of his work at a
fashionable gallery, or does he stand as synecdoche for Renaissance art, or for art in general?
These may seem very trivial questions to ask, but in each case, the latter choice further increases
the sense of alienation in the poem.
Thinking more generally about what these lines contribute to the poem as a whole, the first thing
to notice is how neatly they encapsulate a dichotomy that runs through "Prufrock." This is the
dichotomy between the tedium of everyday life, expressed in the banality of the first line, and
the magnificence of something far off and unattainable, expressed in the second. The contrast
between the shallow, idle chatter at the tea parties attended by Prufrock and its monumental
subject reflects the difference between the narrator's own timid exterior and the universe-
disturbing thoughts he hides. There is also the persistent idea that the modern world trivializes
everything, dragging the great artist down to the level of pretentious chit-chat between
anonymous women.
“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” is in part a satire. Its character is not the hero of romance
but an antihero, one constrained by fear. He spends much of the poem contemplating what to
him is to be a daring act, but is in fact only the effort to talk to women at a social event. The
very name Prufrock is suggestive; the first syllable suggests the word “prude” without the final
consonant, while a “frock” is a garment that would have been considered overly formal by
young people of Eliot’s generation.
The urban setting for the poem is itself also the object of satire. The sunset at the beginning of
the evening is not inspiring but instead is dormant, “like a patient etherized upon a table.” The
streets through which the two will pass is full of cheap, sordid hotels and filthy restaurants. The
twentieth century city is not a place of dreams.
The description of the social event suggests something shallow and superficial, where people
show off their knowledge of art. The only details given are the women’s bare arms and long
dresses, talk of Michelangelo and perhaps unnamed novels, and refreshments. Prufrock is
vaguely aware of the contrast between the superficial, perhaps privileged world he is about to
enter and the bleak, urban landscape outside: In the former, people have the leisure for
superficial talk, while in the latter, “lonely men in shirtsleeves” are perhaps tired from work.
Prufrock is too self-centred, too concerned with how he might impress the women he will see, to
reflect on the desperation of the “muttering retreats”; the “yellow smoke” (clearly smog) might
well be toxic to many, but to Prufrock it is vaguely something like a friendly cat.
Prufrock momentarily compares himself to John the Baptist, the prophet who announces the
good news of Christ’s coming and who is finally killed, with his head brought on a platter.
Later, he compares himself to Lazarus, who was raised from the dead by Christ. He also briefly
thinks of Hamlet, whose “overwhelming question” involves taking the word of what seems to be
his father’s ghost and avenging his murder by killing a king. Prufrock realizes that the best he
can do in Shakespeare’s play is to be Polonius, who talks too much, annoys everyone, and is
finally killed by accident when he is eavesdropping on Hamlet and his mother.
In the final lines of the poem, Prufrock is tempted to compare himself to Ulysses, since the
mermaids “singing each to each” suggest the sirens Ulysses hears in Homer’s Odyssey (c.
725 B.C.E.; English translation, 1614), but he quickly reflects that “I do not think that they will
sing to me.”
The classic poem "Sailing to Byzantium" by William Butler Yeats tells of a man's journey from
a country of the young, in which old people are not welcome, toward a holy city
called Byzantium. In history, Byzantium was a Greek colony on the site of what later became
Constantinople, which in modern times is known as Istanbul. In this poem, Yeats uses
Byzantium as a metaphor for a country in which the narrator can transcend his old age and
mortal life.
In the country that the narrator leaves behind, young people are revered, and old people are
despised as paltry things—everyone is born, lives, and dies. However, though the poet is old, his
spirit remains youthful, and he longs to clap and sing. That's why he has abandoned the land he
has come from and sails to Byzantium.
He asks the "sages standing in God's holy fire" and the "singing-masters" to gather him "into the
artifice of eternity." For the narrator, Byzantium is a place where he will no longer be neglected
and despised but instead appreciated forever in the permanent beauty of the spirit. This
immortality would involve the elimination of bodily form and achieving permanence in admired
artwork.
That is no country for old men. The young In one another's arms, birds in the trees- Those dying
generations - at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl,
commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and...
The poem has invited a great deal of literary analysis and interpretation. Clearly Yeats develops
a contrast between mortality and immortality and between flesh and intellect. These are
established in the first stanza. The young embrace "in one another's arms. Caught up in the
"sensual music" of life, they give no thought to "[monuments of unageing intellect." They glory
in their mortal existence, giving no thought to immortality. Yeats' reference to "monuments" can
be inferred to mean works of art born from intellect. Through these, the artist becomes
immortal; his intellect, the unique part of his being, will not age and therefore will not die. All
that is "begotten, born" dies in "dying generations." Flesh is mortal; through art, however,
immortality can be achieved.
The remainder of the poem expresses Yeats' thoughts and feelings about this contrast.
Byzantium becomes symbolic; it is an immortal place of artistic and intellectual culture where
creativity can flourish. By choosing to sail to "the holy city of Byzantium," he wishes to gain
immortality through his poetry.
William Butler Yeats penned "The Second Coming" in 1919, at the end of the First World War
(the "War to End All Wars," presumably). Mechanized warfare had come into its own, and
Germany was subdued (temporarily). The Soviet Revolution was underway and civil
wars/revolutions raged in Egypt, Estonia, and Latvia. Meanwhile, the Allies, having survived a
war that killed over 9 million combatants and 7 million civilians--including the Armenian
genocide--came home with their ideals and faiths shaken.
Scholars have long argued Yeats' intent with this classic poem, but it can easily be seen as
prophetic. He recognizes that the something that holds humanity together has been severed.
Some argue that it was the drop in religious conviction, but it could easily be our faith in one
another (to be basically good), or even a reassuring belief that war is justified and deaths in war
are meaningful. It's quite likely, though, that Yeats saw the unrest yet rampant in the world and
saw World War I (and its legacy) as the beginning instead of the end.
1919 was, in fact, the beginning of the "anarchy" Yeats writes of. Adolf Hitler gave his first
speech to the German Workers' Party in this year, and thus the year can be marked as the
beginning of his rise to power, although most of us don't think of him as being influential until at
least 1933. In Italy, 1919, Mussolini, on the rise to power, had transformed completely from
socialist to fascist. The signs of the time, to anyone who was paying attention, were aptly
summed up by "The best lack all conviction, while the worst / Are full of passionate intensity."
The "best" during this period were too often disillusioned and emotionally lost, but the "worst"
were seizing the moment, understanding that the disillusioned and lost would crave leaders who
promised the revival of old values and economic prosperity.
Yeats' second stanza begins with "Surely some revelation is at hand," and he goes on to paint a
picture of an ancient, powerful being, rather like the Sphinx, has been roused from "centuries of
stony sleep" by "a rocking cradle." The feeling of this stanza is powerful in its expectation that
something too horrible to imagine is about to happen. Yeats cannot know what it is, but he sees
the signs. The rocking cradle is an image of seeming simplicity and innocence, suggesting that
the signs he sees look innocent but are not; they are merely the beginning of something horrible:
a "rough beast," whose "hour come round at last, / Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born."
He probably was not predicting World War II, specifically, but he could see that chaos had
replaced order, and nothing good would come of it.
Q9: What is "gyre" in "The Second Coming"?
William Butler Yeats's poem "The Second Coming" can be quite confusing for readers who
don't understand the poet's personal religious and philosophical leanings. Many readers familiar
with Christian teachings equate the "second coming" of the poem with the second coming of
Jesus Christ, when, according to Christian belief, he will return to earth from heaven to claim his
followers. However, this was not the only idea Yeats was attempting to depict in this poem.
Like other English poets before him, including William Blake and Thomas Hardy, Yeats created
a personal mythology that went beyond traditional religious teachings. His wife, Georgie Hyde
Lees, whom he married in 1917, was his partner in developing his mythology. She
practiced automatic writing and received messages that Yeats believed were dictated by spirits.
Gyres, winding stairs, and spirals became important symbols that Yeats used to help explain the
progress of history and the paradoxes of existence.
The gyre specifically figured into Yeats's understanding of historical epochs. He proposed that
history consists of two-thousand-year cycles that can be represented as a gyre: a spiraling
motion in the shape of a cone. As one gyre widened toward its culmination, it would spawn a
new two-thousand-year spiral out of a violent countermotion. Yeats explained, "The end of an
age, which always receives the revelation of the character of the next age, is represented by the
coming of one gyre to its place of greatest expansion and of the other to that of its greatest
contraction."
With this in mind, it becomes much easier to interpret "The Second Coming." The twentieth
century was the end of a two-thousand-year period, "the widening gyre." As such, it took on the
character of the epoch to come. Yeats envisioned the coming two-thousand-year period as a
sphinx-like creature with "a gaze blank and pitiless as the sun." That creature now "slouches
toward Bethlehem to be born." In this poem, Yeats implies that the horrors of the early twentieth
century, namely World War I, foretold an unimaginably dire epoch that would come with the
dawn of the twenty-first century.