Barbara Benjamin
Explication
"In a Station of the Metro" by Ezra Pound
Without having much
knowledge of Pound's other works, my feeling is that this poem is probably the
most successful in terms of his own rules for imagism. The
synergism of using THE precise word; using no excess words; creating a rhythm
which mimics common speech, yet at the same time, a rhythm germane to the
subject; together with freedom of subject matter produces in this poem a
singular example of his manifesto. The poem itself seems to become a
living object in itself, gleaming brightly through a dark fog of reality,
transcending the words which bring it life.
The poem-object brings
with it no text to explain itself—which is how it transcends its word
units—like any object found in nature. Because no word exists without
contributing to its overall image, they function together so tightly that they
become the object. No
word could be removed without destroying the image, or seriously flawing it. Even the simple
articles and prepositions, "the," "a," "of,"
"in," and "on" function just as crucially as the nouns and
adjectives. For
example, 'The apparition' is a solid unit. "The" points to a definite
apparition which emerges from the "faces" in the crowd. 'The' crowd also
points to a particular crowd to rivet the reader's attention as if the crowd
actually exists before the reader's eyes. The use of "a" would not
have the same power since "a crowd" could be anywhere, therefore, not
before us now. "The"
crowd makes the idea of a crowd real.
On the other hand,
"a" bough suggests the idea of a bough. The actual bough isn't real, the faces
don't actually exist on the bough. But, the idea of them could exist on
any bough, therefore, Pound uses the indefinite article "a." "A
bough" is a crucial unit. It can't be "the bough,"
because it doesn't matter which bough is suggested. Changing to a definite bough would
materially change the content and suggestion of the entire poem. As an indefinite,
the bough remains within the realm of the universal, unlike a definite bough.
Pound masterfully uses a
pronoun to refer to faces, rather than saying "the faces." By using a
pronoun, he personalizes them and makes them real. It seems as if he's embracing them, or
gesturing with his hands showing us which faces he means. The definite article "the"
when referring to people becomes as indefinite as "a" does to objects. A pronoun must be used to make the faces exist in the eternal moment
of this poem.
So, Pound's use of precise
words applies as much to articles and prepositions as it does to descriptors. This is why
"apparition" works so well with "these faces." The word "apparition"
suggests ideas like lifeless, floating, impersonal, even invisible. Thus, the faces he
makes personal and real to us, the word "apparition" does something
to them—they're transformed and made uniquely different. It's interesting to note that Pound
uses no verbs in this exquisitely short poem. But, the word "apparition"
functions like a verb, in a sense. Though the apparition itself didn't
change the faces, the faces became an apparition. The two are
inextricably linked in a way that implies action of some kind.
This same connection
exists between crowd and apparition, since the faces are "in" the
crowd. We can't
know if the crowd causes the transformation of the faces, but the suggestion is
there. Although,
the pronoun mitigates against that suggestion since there could be other faces
the poet doesn't include for our view. So, we really can't know the exact
cause of the transformations of these particular faces, but we are guided to
consider "the crowd" as a culprit when we apply Pound's strict rule
of using only the precise word. Thus, "crowd" takes on
unusual importance.
What I've said so far
about articles and prepositions holds true for the title as it does for the
actual poem. In
fact, the title is a crucial element of the poem. "Metro" is already a
specific place, requiring the definite article "the." "A Station" becomes a
universal element. It
doesn't really matter which station, just as it doesn't matter which bough. The fact that the
speaker doesn't mention which station adds to the mystery of the image created
by "apparition."
The station becomes as allusive as all the faces do and loses its
identity just as the faces do. Since the speaker is there, it seems he's also in danger of becoming lost or an apparition.
The objects in each line
become progressively smaller in each successive line. For instance, the size of
"station" and "Metro" are larger than the next series in
the following line, "faces" and "crowd," which is larger
than the final series of "petals" and "bough." This progression of large to small
significantly adds to the total image. The central element, "these
faces," are at once diminished in importance since they follow the
enormous Metro system, as well as by the actual physical placement of them in
the poem, beneath the Metro. They are in reality inside the Metro,
and so they are in the poem, as well, because they are sandwiched between lines
one and three. They
are further diminished by the capitalization of Metro and Station. Words in capitals
imply importance in relation to those which aren't. Words in a title also signify
importance. So,
by the time "faces" appear in the poem, they have lost significance,
even though they are the central element of the poem. Of course, this adds to the image of
faces lost within a crowd.
But even more significant, they are lost within a man-made
structure: the Metro. The
faces are lost altogether by the third line when they become merely an idea of
petals clinging to a wet bough. "These faces" are also swallowed up within one large, floating
"apparition" before we even get to them on the page.
Use of precise words
becomes most evident in the last line. The faces become petals stuck on a wet
tree limb. The
combined images of "faces" and "apparition" easily
translates to petals. Visually,
the relationship of faces and petals come from their similarities of roundness
and color. Most
often when one thinks of flower petals, especially those stuck on a bough, one
thinks of fruit blossoms which are generally pale, pinkish-white. The naturally
delicate image of petals transfers to the faces. That the petals are stuck to a
"wet" bough connects with the image of the "apparition,"
since wet petals would tend to be transparent in quality. Thus, the word "petal"
intricately connects "faces" with "apparition."
So, we begin to see how
this poem wonderfully complies with his rule to use crystal clear images, and
not general images. These
petals aren't stuck to just any tree limb, rather to "a wet, black bough." This image
can't escape anyone old enough to recall the way trees look after a rain storm. Especially at
night, the boughs look dark—or black—and they shine from the wetness. The use of two very
common, simple terms, "wet" and "black," create a clear,
stunning image, a mark of Pound's genius. Note, too, how the word
"bough" is the correct word here, rather than limb or branch, which I'll explain later.
The bough's image also
mimics the nature of a subway system. That is, a subway is long and tubular,
full of trains which are long and somewhat tubular, similar to the general image
of a bough. So,
the visual image of the bough reinforces the initial image of the subway, tying
the elements together even tighter. Further, the wet bough also takes on
similar qualities of trains since both are dark in color, and a train's paint
tends to have a sheen.
The petals on the bough, then, resemble the faces in the window
of a train.
There is nothing abstract
about the images Pound creates. An apparition is abstract-like, but
this quality he specifically wants. Every word contributes to the total
visual image, combining and connecting each other into a unified whole. The resulting image
emerges as an object.
Pound stresses
that the rhythm of poetry should reflect common speech. The two lines of this poem and title
comply to that rule, with one exception: there is no verb. The verb "to be" is implied,
however: "The apparition of these faces in the crowd are like/Petals
on a wet, black bough."
The words create the rhythm which conforms to speech, and more
importantly, that rhythm contributes to the image. The sound of the words "The
apparition" is soft, airy, and light, like the meaning of the word. The rest of the
line continues with a similar sound, the harshest sound coming from the hard
"c" and "ow" sound in
"crowd," and to a lesser degree, the long "e" in
"these." That
'crowd' should be the first truly harsh sound adds to the idea that
"crowd" is implicated somehow in causing the
transformation of the faces into an apparition.
Also, the four
syllables in "apparition" perpetuate the soft sound inherent in the
word because of the length of time it takes to say it. On the other hand, the short
monosyllable words which follow appropriately speed up the tempo, producing a
feeling of rushing forward.
The word 'Petals' almost explodes from the mouth after the end
stop of the first line.
This explosive sound is almost startling contrasted to the
softness of the previous line. The word "petal" forces a
brief hesitation before reading on. Then the mutes, or hard consonants
such as p, t, b, and k, in "wet,
black bough." forces
specific vocal emphasis of each word, slowing the reader down when speaking
them. This
harsh, staccato-like speech of the last line clashes considerably with the
soft, flowing sound of the preceding line. The contrast, then, generates an
threatening feeling as the words seem to spit out. So, the combination of the word's
sounds and the staccato rhythm color the 'black bough' as something bleak or
ominous. In
addition, the end sound of 'bough' trails off in the breath, falling off with
nothing to stop it or bring it to an end. It suggests, then, that the bough is
unstable and will fall from the tree. This adds to the ominous image of the
black bough, suggesting death.
"The River-Merchant's Wife: A Letter,"
while quite a different kind of poem, subtly contains some of Pound's rules. The poem is written
in a narrative style, reflecting common speech and is free from any regular
meter. The
images are clear, changing distinctly with each stanza. For example, the first stanza suggest
the playfulness of childhood and innocence. The girl's bangs are cut
"straight across [her] forehead." This hair style clearly suggests a
female child since it is a common way to cut little girl's hair. This image is enhanced by
the boy on stilts, playing with plums, and the girl playing about the front
gate.
The second
stanza abruptly changes tone from playfulness to seriousness. The speaker admits her shyness saying
that she never laughed, kept her head lowered, and looked at the wall. Her image here
contrasts markedly with the image of playful children. Then, again, in stanza three the tone
changes. The speaker exhibits a newly acquired passion and sexual
desire. She stops "scowling" and desires to be
mingled with him forever.
A dramatic
turn comes in stanza four, introducing agitation and turmoil. Nature reflects and intensifies the
speaker's anxiety through the monkeys making "sorrowful noise
overhead," and the river full of swirling eddies. She notices the "paired butterflies." She feels
disconnected since she's no longer coupled. The metaphor of butterflies
"yellow with August" is exquisitely simple, yet effective, and
reveals the speaker's concern of growing old and possibly barren. Simply stated,
short phrases like, "They hurt me. I grow older" emphasize her
internal pangs at being alone, unable to fulfill her role as a woman.
Although this
poem is considerably longer than "Metro," Pound draws clear and crisp
images using precise words, and eliminating extraneous words. The uniquely long lines of the first
stanza contain five to eight stresses, unlike the rest of the poem, emphasizing
a playful nature. The remaining stanzas predominately contain four or five
stresses, adding a more serious note. The shorter lines also suggest that one
can never return to the innocence of childhood.
EZRA POUND'S "RULES GOVERNING
THE POETIC RENAISSANCE"
1. Use precise word—not decorative. For example, the most
appropriate word, thus doesn't have to conform to metrical rhythm. Use absolutely no
word that does not contribute to the presentation.
2. Use crystal clear images, not general
images. "Be
Dante-esque, not Miltonic." Dante created
horrifying images, clear and vivid--VISUAL.
3. Poet must have absolute freedom of choice for
subject matter (Victorian era still lingered then and he wanted to break from
this. (But it was more tastefully done then, unlike
now.)
4. New forms for new subjects. Get rid of old
ways: "They're all handcuffs and
chains that disallow poet to say what he wants to say." Ginsburg said,
"First thought, best thought." Don't be
encumbered by the thought process.
5. Create new rhythms. Compose in the sequence
of the musical phrase, not in the sequence of the metronome. "I think one
should write vers lebre
(free verse) when one "must," that is to say, only when the
"thing" builds up a rhythm more beautiful than that of set meters, or
more real, more a part of the emotion of the "thing," more germane,
intimate, interpretative than the measure of regular accentual verse; a rhythm
which discontents one with set iambic or set anapestic."