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Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained | |||
Adam Zagajewski’s "Submerged City" is a meditation on loss, memory, and the persistent search for meaning. The poem presents a vanished city—whether literal or metaphorical—as a haunting presence, one that continues to shape the speaker’s perception of the world. By invoking the image of a city submerged beneath water, Zagajewski evokes displacement, historical trauma, and the impermanence of human civilization. The poem’s tone is elegiac, yet it resists complete resignation, as it grapples with the tension between memory and forgetting, presence and absence. The opening stanza sets the scene with a decisive statement: "That city will be no more." The blunt finality of this line establishes the poem’s central loss. Yet, rather than dwell immediately on destruction, the following lines recall moments of natural beauty: "no halos / of spring mornings when green hills / tremble in the midst and rise / like barrage balloons—" The juxtaposition of "halos"—which connote light, sanctity, and transcendence—with the imagery of "barrage balloons"—large, tethered balloons used for military defense—creates a tension between the peaceful and the ominous. The hills seem to float like balloons, as if the land itself is as impermanent as the city that will soon be submerged. This opening suggests that even the most vibrant landscapes can be lost, whether through war, natural disaster, or the passage of time. The second stanza reinforces the theme of irrevocable change. "May won’t cross its streets / with shrieking birds and summer’s promises." May, the quintessential month of renewal and warmth, is denied access to the lost city. The imagery of "shrieking birds" contrasts with the gentle idea of "summer’s promises," as if even nature’s sounds have taken on an unsettling edge. The stanza continues with "No breathless spells, / no chilly ecstasies of spring water." Here, the poem mourns not just the loss of place, but the loss of sensory experiences—the exhilaration of cool water, the enchantment of a landscape in bloom. By denying these elements, the poem deepens its sense of absence. The third stanza anchors the city’s fate in physical imagery: "Church towers rest on the ocean’s floor, / and flawless views of leafy avenues / fix no one’s eyes." The church towers, symbols of faith and stability, now lie beneath the sea, suggesting that history and tradition have been drowned. The phrase "flawless views" carries an eerie quality—perfection is meaningless without an observer. The avenues remain pristine, yet they no longer serve any purpose, as there is no one left to walk them. This shift from presence to absence echoes the poem’s central concern: the disconnect between past and present, between memory and reality. The poem then pivots to the present moment: "And still we live on calmly, / humbly—from suitcases, / in waiting rooms, on airplanes, trains." The use of "And still" signals continuity despite loss. Life persists, albeit in a transient, rootless form. The reference to "suitcases, / waiting rooms, airplanes, trains" reinforces a theme of displacement, suggesting that the speaker and others like him are always in motion, never truly settled. This imagery aligns with Zagajewski’s own experience of exile and migration, reflecting a broader condition of modern existence—one marked by impermanence and movement. The following stanza suggests that despite this state of transience, there remains an unrelenting search for meaning: "and still, stubbornly, blindly, we seek the image, / the final form of things / between inexplicable fits / of mute despair—" The adverbs "stubbornly, blindly" suggest a relentless but possibly futile effort to understand or reclaim what has been lost. The phrase "the final form of things" implies a longing for resolution, a desire to capture something definitive amidst the instability of life. However, this search is punctuated by "inexplicable fits / of mute despair," moments of deep sorrow that resist articulation. The contrast between seeking and despair underscores the human condition: we pursue understanding, even as we recognize the limits of our ability to comprehend or recover what is gone. The poem’s concluding lines introduce a dreamlike uncertainty: "as if vaguely remembering / something that cannot be recalled, / as if that submerged city were traveling with us, / always asking questions," The phrase "vaguely remembering / something that cannot be recalled" captures the paradox of memory—how we can feel the presence of something without fully grasping it. The submerged city, despite being lost, does not remain in the past; it "travels with us," haunting the speaker and shaping his perceptions. This final image transforms the city from a static ruin into a persistent, questioning force—one that demands reflection but never accepts easy answers. The closing lines reinforce this idea: "and always unhappy with our answers— / exacting, and perfect in its way." The city’s "unhappiness" suggests that whatever explanations we attempt to give for loss—whether historical, personal, or existential—will never be fully satisfying. The submerged city is "exacting," as if it holds a higher standard of truth, and "perfect in its way," suggesting that even in its absence, it retains a kind of ideal form. This paradox reflects the nature of memory itself: while imperfect and fragmented, it remains vital and insistent, shaping how we see the present. "Submerged City" is a poignant reflection on exile, loss, and the persistence of memory. The poem moves fluidly between descriptions of a vanished past and the realities of a wandering, unsettled present. Its elegiac tone is tempered by an underlying tension—the city may be submerged, but it has not disappeared entirely. It follows the speaker, questioning and demanding, refusing to be forgotten. The poem’s imagery—of drowned church towers, abandoned avenues, and transient travelers—creates a powerful meditation on the ways in which history and personal identity remain intertwined. Through its restrained yet evocative language, the poem captures the ache of displacement, the search for meaning, and the haunting presence of what has been lost but never fully erased.
| Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BLOOD ON THE WHEEL by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA SUMMER IN A SMALL TOWN by TONY HOAGLAND EVERYTHING'S A FAKE by FANNY HOWE ONE NIGHT IN BALTHAZAR by FANNY HOWE YOU CAN?ÇÖT WARM YOUR HANDS IN FRONT OF A BOOK BUT YOU CAN WARM YOUR HOPES THERE by FANNY HOWE PHOTO OF A MAN ON SUNSET DRIVE: 1914, 2008 by RICHARD BLANCO LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW POEM by DENIS JOHNSON |
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