The Tenth Muse,
For the month of October, I decided to memorize “Verses upon the Burning of our House, July 10th, 1666” by Anne Bradstreet, one of the most important early American poets. This poem moved me; I felt the flame of its beauty — its transparency and tension, humanness and hope. As the smoke rose — so did her prayers. The natural impulse of her soul. What I have found is that in memorizing poetry, there is an opportunity to notice, and this attention has become a fountain of delight.
A Line Engulfed in Flame,
“The fearful sound of ‘fire’ and ‘fire’” she wrote. Upon first glance, this is just a line, but upon another stoop and careful gaze, it reveals itself to be more — it is a drama and stage. This line too is, as it were, engulfed in that flame not sweet. Notice the alliteration: “FearFul sound of Fire and Fire.”
In articulatory phonetics, the letter F is a “voiceless labiodental fricative.” Produced by the steady flow of air as the bottom lip touches the upper teeth as a match to spark a flame, friction without the vibration of chords vocal. Oh, what a sound fitting.
The Taste of Fire,
I walk with poems. In its company, I ate. I fed upon the words it shared, that day I tasted fire. I gargle lines like listerine for the mere joy of hearing. In the quiet I stood with lungs outstreched, I shouted Fire! like an arrow striking soft skin of sky. When pronounced, it blows, expands, it flows — unfurls, and as to hell in air is hurled. Compare “fire” with “chuck” or “shoe” or “pan.” How does its sound taste it your mouth? For me, there is an intensity — and perhaps this is the intensity she wants us all to feel. Oh, does not your tongue burn?
Burning House, But Not Consumed,
“In silent night when rest I took" The poem begins in silence and ends with praise. It is only through the lens of latter verses that the eye may see the echoes of Job. Notice the parallel between lines 1 and 2 and 13 and 14: — “took / look”
Line 1: “In silent night when rest I took” (A)
Line 2: “For sorrows near I did not look” (B)
Line 13: “And when I could no longer look” (B)
Line 14: “I blest His name who gave and took” (A)
The Lord gives and takes away rest (Job 1:21). It is no longer a silent night, but a night of “piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.” But prayer as smoke would rise from that distressed and downcast soul. For as she wrote, “the light did spy”, and looking at her place consumed begins to see another Light, that world made bright and new. And although she lost her rest that dark and fearful night, there was another Rest by which her soul did rest assured:
“Then straight I ‘gin my heart to chide,
And did thy wealth on earth abide?
Didst fix thy hope on mould'ring dust?
The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?
Raise up thy thoughts above the sky
That dunghill mists away may fly.
Thou hast a house on high erect
Frameed by that mighty Architect,”
What are some of your favorite poems?
Thanks for reading!
What a remarkably beautiful poem -- and well presented! It's difficult to pin a poem down for analysis without damaging its wings, but you pulled it off. When I reached the phrase "articulatory phonetics", I flinched in anticipation of wading into the numbing waters of jargon, but my senses were immediately recalled to life by the vivid image of the lower lip as sparking match.
You've inspired me to go looking for a poem to memorize.
Excellent analysis!
Prosody is a world unto itself when it comes to mnemonic hooks, as is carefully analysis.
I've talked with Ashley Strand who memorized the Book of Mark and performs it. He says a vast percentage of how he memorized it comes from analysis above all. Quite interesting.