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Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained | |||
In "Calendar", Robert Penn Warren contemplates the passage of time, the transition from summer to winter, and the relationship between the living and the dead. The poem’s focus on the cyclical nature of the seasons serves as a metaphor for human life and memory, with particular attention to the inevitable decline that accompanies the approach of winter. Warren’s use of vivid imagery—blazing suns, cawing crows, and frost-warped oaks—creates a sense of foreboding as the speaker reflects on the way time both shapes and distorts the past. At its core, the poem raises questions about legacy, memory, and whether the experiences of those long dead have any bearing on the lives of the living. The poem begins with the observation that "The days draw in," signaling the shrinking daylight and the approach of winter. "Southward, the red suns trim / Daily, and dim, and spin / Their bleakening paradigm." The imagery of the "red suns" gradually dimming suggests not just the literal decline of sunlight, but also a metaphorical dimming of life and vitality. The days "spin their bleakening paradigm," indicating that this cycle of reduction and loss is a recurring, inescapable part of the natural order. Summer, with its warmth and brightness, "has been"—it is now a thing of the past, leaving the present dominated by cold and encroaching darkness. Warren introduces the image of "black crows" that "carp / Across the red west home," a symbol often associated with death or ill omens. The crows’ return to their nests against the backdrop of a "red west" sky reinforces the sense of finality and the coming of night, both literally and metaphorically. The transition from day to night, from warmth to cold, is further emphasized by the mention of frost, which will "warp / The oak, and wind thumb / That cold-taut harp." The frost’s effect on the oak tree represents the harshness of winter’s grip on nature, while the wind playing the "cold-taut harp" of the trees suggests a mournful, almost funereal tone. Nature itself becomes a musical instrument, tuned by the wind to lament the passing of time. The poem then shifts to consider the dead: "Do those dead hear / Earth lunge in its dark gyre, / And the grinding orbit veer / Coldward, from the sun's pyre, / More year on year?" Here, the speaker wonders whether the dead are aware of the Earth’s continued movement, its slow progression away from the warmth of the sun. The phrase "dark gyre" conveys a sense of ominous, unending rotation, as the Earth spirals toward the cold. The image of the sun as a "pyre" reinforces the idea of death and decay, suggesting that the sun’s heat, once life-giving, is now a source of destruction. The speaker’s question—whether the dead are aware of this ongoing cosmic motion—introduces a meditation on the nature of memory and the persistence of the past. Warren raises the possibility that the dead may retain memories: "Do memories they keep / Backpace our calendar / To an age that knew no hap / Of coil, nor jar?" This question suggests that, if the dead do remember, their memories might reach back to a time untouched by the "coil" (turmoil) or "jar" (shock) that characterizes the present. The idea of a "backpacing calendar" implies a reversal of time, where the dead might recall a period of innocence or peace that the living no longer experience. However, the speaker also introduces doubt about this possibility: "Or is their wrong / Our wrong in the frost's long dark, / And all our young rage strong / Tinct of an elder cark?" Here, the speaker suggests that the wrongs of the past—the sufferings and injustices experienced by the dead—may still influence the living, as the "young rage" of the present could be "tinct of an elder cark," or tainted by the sorrows of earlier generations. As the poem progresses, Warren continues to explore the idea that the voices of the past might be carried forward: "The wind takes tongue." The wind, personified as a speaker, becomes the medium through which past experiences and emotions might be communicated. "In midnight's poise / Long past our hence-going / Will our hurt in the wind's voice / Speak so to men unknowing / Of our hugged joys?" This section suggests that after the speaker and their generation are gone, the wind may carry the "hurt" of their lives forward, speaking to future generations who remain unaware of the "hugged joys"—the cherished moments of happiness—that once defined their lives. The wind thus becomes a vehicle for the transmission of both pain and joy, though the latter may be lost or forgotten over time. The poem closes with a reflection on the fleeting nature of life and the inevitability of decline: "Then overpassed / And frailer than summer's heart / That locked in the burr from frost / With the wanton year may start / And glad time's waste?" The word "overpassed" suggests that the moments of joy, strength, and vitality have already been left behind. Life, once "frailer than summer’s heart," is vulnerable to the forces of time and the cold grip of winter. The "burr from frost" represents the hard shell that life forms in response to the cold, a defense mechanism against the harshness of time. However, the question "And glad time’s waste?" introduces a note of ambiguity. Is the passage of time, with all its losses and decay, something to be celebrated or mourned? The question leaves the reader pondering whether there is joy to be found in the inevitable process of wasting time, or whether the fleeting nature of life ultimately renders it tragic. In "Calendar", Robert Penn Warren uses the cyclical nature of the seasons as a metaphor for the passage of time, the persistence of memory, and the relationship between the living and the dead. The poem’s rich imagery of crows, frost, wind, and the cold horizon creates a sense of melancholy and reflection, as the speaker grapples with the idea that the past continues to haunt the present, even as the living move inexorably toward their own decline. Through this meditation on time, memory, and the natural world, Warren invites readers to consider the legacy of the past and the fragile beauty of life in the face of inevitable decay.
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