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TALES OF THE ISLAND: 4. 'DANCE OF DEATH.', by             Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography

In "Tales of the Island: 4. 'Dance of Death,'" Derek Walcott creates a dialogue-rich poem, using a vivid conversational style to explore themes of mortality, disillusionment, and the complexity of moral and existential choices. The poem takes place in a bar or social gathering, where the speaker and others discuss art, politics, and the human condition, all under the influence of alcohol and a sense of moral ambiguity. Walcott uses a mixture of colloquial language and philosophical reflection to delve into the contradictions of life, where sin, death, and rebirth are intertwined.

The opening line, "He's a damned epileptic / Your boy, El Greco!" immediately sets the tone of casual irreverence. The speaker critiques the painter El Greco, whose elongated figures and dramatic expressions in art have often been associated with intense emotion and religious ecstasy. By calling El Greco "epileptic," the speaker diminishes his spiritual or artistic grandeur, grounding it in a condition that strips away its otherworldliness. The comparison to Goya, who "don't lie," suggests a preference for the raw, unflinching depiction of reality over the stylized, almost mystical vision of El Greco. Goya, known for his dark, satirical paintings, especially in his later works like "The Disasters of War," represents a truth that is harder and more brutal.

The speaker’s companion, "Doc," introduces a shift in focus, inviting the speaker to "join the real epileptics," which seems to suggest that they leave the intellectualizing behind and engage with something rawer or more visceral. The scene then moves toward the presence of "girls" and "beer," highlighting a setting that feels more grounded in the everyday pleasures and vices of life. There’s a sense of unease in this scene as "in the queer light / We all looked green," which could signify the unnaturalness of the moment, perhaps hinting at sickness or moral corruption. The greenness, often associated with envy or naivety, adds to the strangeness of the gathering, as if everything is off-kilter.

The mention of one of the girls draping "an arm around me like a wreath" reinforces the poem’s underlying theme of death. The wreath, a traditional symbol of mourning and remembrance, suggests that even in this casual, pleasure-seeking moment, death is ever-present. The conversation quickly turns to politics, with the speaker sarcastically commenting on "Our mother earth" and the "great republic in whose womb / The dead outvote the quick." This line is particularly biting, as it critiques the nature of political power and corruption, where those who have passed or no longer have a voice (the dead) seem to have more influence than the living. It’s a cynical take on democracy, implying that power structures are controlled by those who have already shaped the world, leaving little room for the present or future generations.

The Indian character provides a humorous interjection, noting that the speaker and his companions are "too obscene" and dismissing their conversation as "college boys" talk—intellectual yet disconnected from the realities of life. This comment, while humorous, serves as a critique of the group’s philosophical musings, suggesting that their reflections on politics and death are little more than posturing, removed from the lived experiences of those who face real struggles.

As the group enters "the bare room," the setting becomes more ambiguous and abstract. The bare room could be symbolic of a space where nothing is hidden, where the raw realities of life and death come to the forefront. It might also evoke an existential space, devoid of meaning, where the characters must confront their own mortality and the emptiness of their pursuits. The rain, often a symbol of cleansing or renewal, contrasts with the unease and emptiness of the room, adding to the poem’s atmospheric tension.

The poem concludes with a shift in tone, as the speaker reflects on his feelings while walking home in the rain. The speaker is "worried," though it's unclear exactly what he is concerned about—whether it’s the moral consequences of his actions or a more general existential dread. Doc’s final line, "Don't worry, kid, the wages of sin is birth," subverts the well-known biblical phrase "the wages of sin is death" (Romans 6:23). By replacing "death" with "birth," Doc seems to suggest that life itself, with all its inherent struggles, vices, and contradictions, is both the consequence and the reward. The line encapsulates the poem’s exploration of life as a cyclical process, where death and rebirth are intertwined, and where sin, rather than leading to punishment, leads to the continuation of life.

In "Tales of the Island: 4. 'Dance of Death,'" Derek Walcott uses a mixture of casual conversation and philosophical reflection to explore themes of mortality, sin, and the complexities of human existence. Through the interplay of lighthearted banter and deeper existential concerns, the poem captures the tension between the desire to find meaning in life and the inevitability of death. The speaker and his companions, through their intellectualizing and their indulgences, embody the human struggle to navigate these contradictions, finding both humor and discomfort in the process. The poem’s final line leaves the reader with a paradoxical resolution, suggesting that life, in all its messiness, is both the consequence and the continuation of sin and death.


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