E.E. Cummings (1849-1962) was revolutionary in his writing style. He was known as a modernist in his early career, but more closely resembles the New England Transcendentalists and English Romantics in his mastery of originality and artistic freedom. In his poems, he often poked fun at conformity, mass psychology, and pretentiousness. Cummings was also interested in painting – mainly Cubism and Futurism – and this influenced his experiments in verse with punctuation, idiomatic speech, compressed words, dislocated syntax, unusual typography, line division, and capitalization. Cummings focused on making everything in a poem serve a purpose – from punctuation to syntax and the different sounds of words when combined. Interestingly, however, although his style was new and revolutionary, many of his works were traditional in themes – love and death.
All information from:
Poetry Criticism. Ed. Robyn V. Young. Vol. 5. Detroit: Gale Research, 1992. p68-112.
Personal note:
E.E. Cummings was a blast to read this week. His works were easier to read than, say, Milton and possess still the same punch as any of the ‘classics.’ I read that sometimes he would write an entire poem, then delete most of it to preserve only the key words – thus extremely compressing it. I will look into this style of compression in my own poems.
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All in green my love went riding
All in green went my love riding
on a great horse of gold
into the silver dawn.
four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the merry deer ran before.
Fleeter be they than dappled dreams
the swift sweet deer
the red rare deer.
Horn at hip went my love riding
riding the echo down
into the silver dawn.
four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the level meadows ran before.
Softer be they than slippered sleep
the lean lithe deer
the fleet flown deer.
Four fleet does at a gold valley
the famished arrows sang before.
Bow at belt went my love riding
riding the mountain down into the silver dawn.
four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the sheer peaks ran before.
Paler be they than daunting death
the sleek slim deer
the tall tense deer.
Four tall stags at a green mountain
the lucky hunter sang before.
All in green went my love riding
on a great horse of gold
into the silver dawn.
four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
my heart fell dead before.
There is an overriding sense of movement in this poem due to the repetition of the golden horse riding into the silver dawn, as well as the list of things that “go before” another. Creating movement in a poem is an interesting concept (just as it is in art) and Cummings does it well. The poem itself, with its rhythm, rides on like a horse until the silver end.
I love how Cummings sets up the poem for the last line. The poem is a list of things moving forward, things going “before” another – the deer, the echo, the does, and lastly his heart. The end worked well and dropped the poem cold.
darling!because my blood can sing
darling!because my blood can sing
and dance(and does with each your least
you any most very amazing now
or here)let pitiless fear play host
to every isn't that's under the spring
--but if a look should april me,
down isn't's own isn't go ghostly they
doubting can turn men's see to stare
their faith to how their joy to why
their stride and breathing to limp and prove
--but if a look should april me,
some thousand million hundred more
bright worlds than merely by doubting have
darkly themselves unmade makes love
armies(than hat itself and no
meanness unsmaller)armies can
immensly meet for centuries
and(except nothing)nothing's won
--but if a look should april me
for half a when, whatever is less
alive than never begins to yes
but if a look should april me
(though such as perfect hope can feel
only despair completely strikes
forests of mind, mountains of soul)
quite at the hugest which of his who
death is killed dead. Hills jump with brooks:
trees tumble out of twigs and sticks;
One of my favorite qualities of Cummings’ writing is his profound use of nouns. He uses “april” as a verb, and although it has never been used that way before, the reader automatically understands what it implies. I also like how he uses “isn’t” as a noun. He has a keen way of using language.
i carry your heart with me
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
What I find to be most fascinating about this poem is that it leans very much on the traditional, cliché methods of wooing a woman through a poem – comparing her to a moon, a sun, talking about fate, etc. – yet it is far different than any of those poems solely due to Cummings’ style. The funky parenthesis serve a purpose of inserting tiny additions into the poem and serve a good purpose in the end, showing how he heart is enclosed in the parenthesis, which is his heart. This poem is based on traditional themes, but stems further than their limitations.
Am was
am was. are leaves few this. is these a or
scratchily over which of earth dragged once
-ful leaf. & were who skies clutch an of poor
how colding hereless. air theres what immense
live without every dancing. singless on-
ly a child's eyes float silently down
more than two those that and that noing our
gone snow gone
yours mine
. We're
alive and shall be:cities may overflow(am
was)assassinating whole grassblades,five
ideas can swallow a man;three words im
-prison a woman for all her now:but we've
such freedom such intense digestion so
much greenness only dying makes us grow
This poem is extremely compressed – it is hard to find meaning in it. I remember one critic described Cumming’s poems along the lines of, “they can mean anything or nothing.” Unfortunately, this poem means nothing to me – it is too compressed. I am interested in Cummings’ process though – writing long passages and then only using the key words to compose a poem. Every word is crucial and chosen for a reason.
The Eagle
1
It was one of those clear,sharp.mustless days
That summer and man delight in.
Never had Heaven seemed quite so high,
Never had earth seemed quite so green,
Never had the world seemed quite so clean
Or sky so nigh.
And I heard the Deity's voice in
The sun's warm rays,
And the white cloud's intricate maze,
And the blue sky's beautiful sheen.
2
I looked to the heavens and saw him there,--
A black speck downward drifting,
Nearer and nearer he steadily sailed,
Nearer and nearer he slid through space,
In an unending aerial race,
This sailor who hailed
From the Clime of the Clouds.--Ever shifting,
On billows of air
And the blue sky seemed never so fair,
And the rest of the world kept pace.
3
On the white of his head the sun flashed bright;
And he battled the wind with wide pinions,
Clearer and clearer the gale whistled loud,
Clearer and clearer he came into view,--
Bigger and blacker against the blue.
Then a dragon of cloud
Gathering all its minions
Rushed to the fight,
And swallowed him up in a bite;
And the sky lay empty clear through.
This poem is more detailed and “meaty,” per se, than the other Cummings poems I have been reading. I like this poem more than all of the others – Cummings gives us more of his personality and soul in this, rather than leaving 9 words split into 15 lines for us to analyze however we like. My favorite part about this poem is the beautiful personification, “a dragon of cloud,” how it swallows the eagle in the sky.
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