we sometimes feint toward bathtime efficiency by having our two-year-old shower with me. in the shower tonight, she asked the following—a question uttered perhaps for the first time in history:
“papa, could you possibly give me some elbow-water or some penis-water?”
my current favorite poem is by wilfred owen, who is not the old man from the 1980’s tv series Our House ...
Dulce et Decorum Est
by Wilfred Owen
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
As much as I love that you had options to give either elbow or penis water, and as glad as I am to know that you hog the water in communal shower, I am happiest that R’s request was beautified with “possibly.”
I’ve heard “Dulce et Decorum Est” described as the greatest war poem of the 20th century.
by greg—Sep 24, 07:37 AM
i had a really insightful comment and accidentally deleted it. rather than rewrite it, i offer the following link as context for the poem.
by mary—Sep 24, 08:06 AM
I laughed out loud at the quote from your two year old.
by JH—Sep 24, 08:17 AM
as a co-showerer (with a 19month old) i’ve wondered, at what age does one stop co-showering. i almost asked you guys… i’m glad i waited.
by hermit x—Sep 24, 09:43 AM
i have no idea when one stops doing that. prob not for a few years yet. maybe she’ll want to shower by herself before it becomes any kind of an issue?
rose does not chastise me for water-hogging. rather, she hangs at the back of the shower and darts under the water only when absolutely necessary. she spends most of the time filling old yogurt containers with water, which is the point of her request about the penis- or elbow-water.
by chris—Sep 24, 11:50 AM
do you mean this wilford brimley?
by hermit x—Sep 24, 07:21 PM
wow. imagine taking a shower with that guy.
by chris—Sep 24, 07:31 PM
I bet his penis water would fill a yogurt cup.
by greg—Sep 24, 07:51 PM
Reading the poem again tonight. That 3rd stanza is mastery: the periodic conditional sentence, building up to the Latin, ironic in conclusion. Neither honor nor glory is in such death. The irony is bitter. The poem cultivates no ambiguity at all.
by greg—Sep 25, 05:57 PM
i like your analysis. it reminds me that i don’t usually like poems like that. generally, my favorite poets are e.e. cummings and william carlos williams, whose poems feel much more like little word games than does this one. more generally, i think i might prefer reading about poetry more than i like reading poetry.
by chris—Sep 25, 08:22 PM
I like those puzzles, too; also, those poems that turn on a phrase—though it’s a rare verse that offers equal and opposite readings. In that vein did you ever read Margaret Edson’s play, Wit? (or rent the HBO production of it?) The play turns on an interpretation of Donne’s “Death be not proud, though some have called thee.” (FYI, Mary, it’s a good play, too, for intro. courses. Lots of cross-readings and intersections between the contemporary and the early modern. Although I’m a bit skeptical of its implications about literary study…)
Anyway, I think because I like them is why the guilelessness of this stands out. Of course, I can think of no good answer to the question why one would want to be ironic or ambiguous about chemical warfare, or warfare in general. To have appeared flip about it would have made the work of the poem worthless. Its straightforwardness gives it the impression of realism.
by greg—Sep 25, 09:40 PM
the article i am about to send out all deals with the kind of guile not found in this poem… puns and puns on puns on poems written ostensibly to celebrate the eucharist.
by hermit x—Sep 25, 10:22 PM
so, speaking of poems, one of my old profs has one in the new yorker this week and i’m tempted to write to ask if it was influenced by a somewhat similar neruda poem…but since he actually taught me the neruda poem, i don’t know if he’d be offended. thoughts, poets?
by mary—Sep 26, 08:47 AM
it does depend on how you phrase it.
no doubt it is… and, he could’ve very well sat down to write the poem as an excercise to overcome writers block and it turnd out to be that nice of a poem. or, it could be that he knows and likes neruda so well that he couldn’t help not writing a poem influenced by neruda.
it really depends on how well you knew him… how you phrase it… and how much you praise him (i say not because i would be bothered should you do this… but, i know many a poet that would be offended)
by hermit x—Sep 26, 09:07 AM
BBC 3 began a Wilfred Owen tribute November 12.
by greg—Nov 17, 02:31 PM