Critiquing Robert Frost, Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening Options

[Mary Boren]

How in the world did poets of yore function without an international workshopping group? Lori's recent thread in Hermes got me to wondering how some of the beloved classics would fare if posted here today. Critters, sharpen your fangs. I'll have a go at it below.

Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost, 1922

[Mary Boren]

Hi Bob. Welcome to MM!

I enjoyed this intriguing piece immensely -- great job of mood-setting and layering. I haven't had the pleasure of reading your work before, but it's clear you are no stranger to form poetry. Your meter is impeccable. I think you might strive for a little more freshness in your rhymes, though, and some polysyllabics to perk the lines up a bit. A catchier title wouldn't hurt -- maybe something esoteric, less telly. Do you feel strongly about capping the first letter of each line regardless where the word falls in a sentence? In olden days, this was a necessary signal to the typesetter to indicate line breaks, but there's no valid reason for the practice to continue. Many readers (including this one) find it intrusive. Also, I note that all your lines are endstopped. A smattering of enjambment can work wonders in overcoming singsonginess.

Some inline thoughts for your consideration:

Whose woods these are I think I know.

You really ought to have another look at that glaring inversion. There's always another way to say a thing without twisting syntax.

My little horse must think it queer

Oh my. You're taking a big risk here, Bob. Surely you can find a match for near and year without resorting to such an emotionally loaded, not to mention politically incorrect word.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

No serious nits in these lines, I just wanted to see them again because they present such a stunning word picture. This is superb writing. However, I can't help wondering if you might be able to rephrase in a way that does not strip the wind and flake of their articles. That line's a tad adjective-heavy anyhow. Maybe something like "of wind across the downy flakes." (No harm in a singular/plural rhyme pairing, or so I'm told.)

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

You might catch flack elsewhere for the repetition, but I think you've used it to stellar effect here. Leaves me with a pensive feeling.

All in all, an excellent first posting. More, please.

Mary

[jgdittier]

Dear Nada,
My jaw hurts from smiling so hard!!!
I suspect the irony abounds in your most ingenious critique!
I have written several paraphrases based on Frost's rubiayat. The form
captured my imagination immediately and motivated me to read his bio and much of his poetry.
You and I share closely, I believe, respect for meter but differ, I believe, on every (negative) comment you made thereafter. So be it. My style had its day, the modern style is now having its. As we can always count on change (except from a vending machine), the future will dictate the changes.
Meanwhile, a loud "noonway" to you for your response.
Cheers, Ron jgd
ps-Noonway is a word we used when my sons and I were in Indian Guides, indicating great approval and appreciation.

[Merlin]

Hello Bob,

I've had the pleasure of reviewing your handwritten page and see that you've done some tweaking in the original. You struck L3 in the last verse and repeated L4 - couldn't come up with anything better? There's the further repetition of "woods" in L1, L4, & L7 and again L13. I'm not completely convinced that you couldn't have come up with better wording - where you've already tweaked }forest{ from L7.

It strikes me odd that your horse thinks in abstract terms. Why should he think it queer that you stopped in the middle of no-where, to get down for a ... ? This is the Christmas season, and one can draw from that you were visiting and had a bit of xmas cheer. (V2L4).

A great poem none-the-less, Bob. Drive straight on the way home and sleep it off.

Merlin

[Mary Boren]

Thanks for pouncing on this fun little exercise so quickly, Ron. You're suspicion is correct. My jaw's okay but my cheek hurts from having the tongue lodged in it so tightly. Since being introduced to this poem in high school (eons ago) it has remained one of my favorites, and I have no doubt that if Bob was writing today his style would reflect contemporary standards of craftsmanship. In fact, I don't much care for his later ventures into FV. As for the differing preferences amongst thee and me, that's perfectly okay -- we can always celebrate the passion we share for immaculate rhythm.

Ha ha ha, Merlin -- that's hilarious! Hey, where did you see the handwritten draft? I googled deep enough to learn that it's on display in the JFK Library, but I couldn't find a copy online. I did turn up a recording of Frost reading the poem, here.

Mary

[Merlin]

The page is pictured in one book I have, showing misc strikeouts and changes. The horse, for example, was a she at one point.

Dunno how to put a picture up here, so have sent via email.

Merlin

[Mary Boren]

Thanks, Merlin -- what a find! Since the poem is in the public domain, I guess it's okay to post the handwritten copy from your book here. If not, I'm sure Lori will let us know.

Click on the thumbnail for full-sized image. Can anyone decipher the scratchouts?

 frost.jpg ( 76.99K ) Number of downloads: 19

[heartsong7]

What a neat idea....to critique the works of a famous dead poet. Your critique of Frost's, "Stopping by....", tho tongue in cheek, would be right on if the poem had been written today.... (esp the comments on the use of 'queer' heh, heh)

I can't make out much of the handwritten page. His penmanship is as bad as my doc's.

I enjoyed the entire thread.
Thank you for starting it.

Sue

[AMETHYST]

Hi Mary -

This is an awesome idea! And thank you for posting it. It has so many benefits for us, like sharpening our skills in critique, learning a bit about what makes the classics work and how poetry differs from then and now.

I am going to offer my critique but I have not read anyone elses critique so I can see what I think without direction of another's points and thoughts.

We should make this an exercise - thank you Mary!!!!

Hugs, Liz



Hi Mr Frost and welcome to MM -

I found your offering to be quite multi-layered poem. Allowing readers to leave with variations of meaning and intent. I think this is done well, as it poses for each reader individually, a interpretation that reaches their own conclusions.

The title, I thought, might do well with some reconsideration. Perhaps something that indicates a journey or allows the core subject to be specified. Because the snowy evening is detailed within the poem, it isn't needed within the title. I liked the idea of passing through the woods and taking in the loveliness of first snow fall (or freshly falling snow) - a cleansing. What I thought would improve this was some weeding out of repetition of woods. Also what might improve this is more active word choices.

Some in stanza thoughts and suggestions ...

With Respect, Liz

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

The opening four lines, set the mood for me. I immediately get the impression that the narrator feels saddened by the idea that the owner of the woods cannot share in the narrators wonder of freshly falling snow covering the woods. The narrator is lured to stop and take notice to nature's beautiful change in scene and life -

I perfer caps only on lines that begin a new sentence, as it makes it easier to adjust my own natural pauses and full stops ... In L1 I would end in a comma and come to a full stop in L2 -
I am torn in L2 with the deeper meaning of the house being in the village - in other words, a part of me would like to see ' he lives within the village though' the use of 'within' would possibly have a nice bounce off of without a farmhouse in L6. (or something in line with focusing on the fact that the owner of the woods does not live near by) however - there is a part of me that believes the specification of the 'house' being in the village, is to emphasize that there is no house in the woods, also enhanced by 'no farmhouse' in L6. Both give enhance the aloneness and solitude for the narrator- the scene as it is untouched and pure because no one is near to taint natures newness. So, again, this is a just a though and there are some reasons for both considerations.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.

L7, is a perfect place to substitute one of those 'woods' with something more detailed ... perhaps 'weald' might be a good consideration. in L8, perhaps ... 'this darkest evening of the year. Again, the descriptions are so crisp and powerful - that I find they come to life for me. I feel chill in the air, the quiet of the darkness, the bells breaking the silence and the mood tones are powerful.

The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost, 1922

I would like to see 'these woods are lovely, dark and deep,'
but I have promises to keep -
and miles to go before I sleep,
and miles to go before I sleep ..

The repeat of this final line, emphasizes that the narrator has a long way to travel and much to do before rest - before his tasks are done.

I adore this poem for many of the simplistic tools used. A part of me did want to suggest switching the first 4lines with ... 'My little horse ...'

Example:

My little horse must think it queer
to stop without a farmhouse near,
between the weald and frozen lake
the darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
to ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
of easy wind and downy flake.
Whose woods these are I think I know,
he lives within the village though,
and cannot see me stopping here,
to watch his woods fill up with snow.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
but I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep




Hugs, Liz

[Cleo_Serapis]

Mary, what a fab idea! I'm glad my response poem inspired you to start this tile, thank you!

If I were critiquing Frost's poem, the first thing I would mention to Bob is 'Why the caps on every line?' (as y'all know that's a PP item for me (punctuation police) , LOL! Secondly, I would suggest 4-line stanzas so as not to 'crowd' the read so much.

Let' see:
Whose woods these are I think I know. *Inversion - perhaps 'are these' would sound more in line with the question?
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
to watch his woods fill up with snow. *Lovely imagery in these first 4 lines. This sets a tone of a journey in winter to someone (who we do not yet know and can fill that in in our own minds) of authority's home. His woods hints at God but it could easily be a land owner of those woods. I like this style of writing to leave it open to interpretation.

My little horse must think it queer
to stop without a farmhouse near *How would the MC know what his horse is thinking (not believable).
between the woods and frozen lake
the darkest evening of the year. *Beautiful!

He gives his harness bells a shake
to ask if there is some mistake. *What mistake - this is unclear. First we learn a journey is underway through snowy woods at night. Then we are introduced to the horse's thoughts (or what the narrator thinks the horse is thinking) of finding it odd/queer as to why they do not stop, although we do not know WHY they cannot stop. This is clever, as again it leaves the interpretation open to the reader to 'fill in the blanks' to make the story fit. In my own mind, I envison this a journey of death and rebirth - there's no stopping once the path has been journeyed - no turning back so to speak. Bob makes it seem as though the narrator/MC has a 'choice' in the matter and is going to his destination freely and knowingly. It could also simply be a journey 'home', perhaps to the MC's father's home?
The only other sound's the sweep
of easy wind and downy flake. *Nice - a still night that we can envision falling snow, and a calmness in the air. This further leads me to believe the 'journey' is one taken either freely or with an acceptance of fate.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. *Here I would not endstop this line.
But I have promises to keep, *Ah, ding ding! A promise made to the father/Him that cannot be broken - nice tie-in (although still quite mysterious!
and miles to go before I sleep,
and miles to go before I sleep. *The repeat works well for me to further leave the impression in my mind that this journey is not a quick one to travel. "sleep" could mean two things - literally or in death here, IMO.


I'm in a bit of a craze this morning trying to organize my holiday lists/gift orders and wrapping already purchased items and mailings - but will be popping in on and off today.

I have an idea based on the volleys that Eric, Sue, Fran and a few others do which is so enjoyable:

How about creating a new poem using Frost's stanza and meter format from 'Stopping by Woods...' above and using his same ending line words, but create a completely different poem from it? In other words the poem must be iambic (or close to it tetrameter) with each line ending with:
know, though, here, snow, queer, near, lake, year, shake, mistake, sweep, flake, deep, keep, sleep, sleep ??

Shall I start a new tile here in Karnak?
~Cleo

[Guest_Don_*]

Hi all,

I've nothing to add except to say reading various inputs is interesting. Rewriting in emulation to me is akin to Monday morning quarterbacking to win the lost game. It is much like reviewing famous battles toward a more efficient win. To write in a dead poet's style is living in an historical moment. How truely can today's biases be incorporated into older era practices? Should we center an emulated poem if the original is centered?

I am prone to remember what has been said about avid followers destroying fabric of the original leader(s).

Don

[Merlin]

About the handwritten page...


The page does not have the first verse.

These are my personal observations and conclusions, not to be taken as gospel. I did 2 more scans, particularly of the verses in question. Those I enlarged to the point of distortion, to come up with these conclusions.
Interestingly, other critics here have noted a lack of verses. Frost’s handwritten page shows white-space separation, as I have generally found in other books. In the book “The Poetry of Robert Frost”, edited by Edward Connery Lathem, last © 1967, containing all RF's 11 books, “Stopping…” is printed in quatrains, which is how I am familiar with it.



RF seemed to be unsatisfied with the first line, which he first had as “The horses [something] think it queer”, and something is a 2-syllable word like “appear”, but not appear, more like “may not”. He then began a new line with “To” but didn’t like that, rewriting it to “The straining horses think it queer” which he struck and tweaked to “The little horse must think it queer”.
“Between a forest and a lake” was the original wording.

The 2nd verse is pretty straight forward, with “full (fall?) of flake” ending the line. The horse(s) change gender, however, giving more credence to a few xmas drinks! A possibility is that he had a team of mare & gelding, and one of those decided to take a shake.

The last line struck out is the most difficult to decipher. It looks like the original (bottom strike-out) was, with the next, “That bid me give the reins a shake || And miles to go before I sleep”. That was then revised to “That bid me on, as there are miles || And miles …” He struck that too.
The 2nd line repetition looks too much as an addition, considering the different shaped letters. There follows the footnote “74” for which I have no explanation.

[Guest_Don_*]

Dear Merlin,

Thanks for the excellent sluething of RF's handwritten page. Whew! That is an emmense undertaking. I had difficulty reading his script (period)

Don

[Cleo_Serapis]

It really IS interesting Eric.

I wonder... does each critter in this thread interpret the poem's meaning the same way? Is it supposed to be about impending death or just literally, a journey home?

Shall I post a new thread on the challenge I put forth?

~Cleo

[Cleo_Serapis]

Here's a link to a final copy:

[Guest_Don_*]

Hi Cleo,

No doubt interpretations differ and multiple are likely. I usually take the surface skim of a long day of a working country doctor taking a break absorbing natural beauty.

Listening to RF reading --especially the last line--invokes considerable deviations from expectations.

He emphasizes with great gravity that he does have many miles to go.

Don

[Merlin]

I wonder... does each critter in this thread interpret the poem's meaning the same way?

My answer here would be that -
No two critters interpret it the same way.

Is it supposed to be about impending death or just literally, a journey home?

Who knows? Even if RF were still around, he wouldn't say, much like the meaning of the 2 trails in the woods. There is much thought given to that meaning too. Although he gave an answer there, many don't accept it and look for deeper meaning.

Example - - here is a site where a number of learned persons have given thoughts to RF's writings... HERE . Each tosses a different perspective into the ring, but the actual answer remains with RF.

While I make no pretenses or compare myself to anyone, I will tell of my situation, where my work was thoroughly digested and analyzed for a British poetry publication. The fellow does this regularly and is quite knowledgeable. He spent much time figuring out what I was writing about and giving me high praise in the process, but I gotta say, he was miles and miles off the mark (reality). His interpretation of what I had written wasn't even in the ballpark, although his analysis made much sense and was plausible.

Perhaps the erudites look at RF in the same way, seeking greater meaning in a simple thing. The apple picking, for example, has certain experts suggesting RF was really a closet gay, and the actual meaning of the ladder leaning on the apple tree was ... well, you can imagine what with the apple tree bearing fruit. Now, I happen to carry a 20 ft extension ladder on my shop van, if anyone wants to draw a conclusion here.

In my own opinion, there is nothing else to be drawn from "Stopping..." other than he was out with his team & sleigh, and had reason to stop.

There tis

Merlin

[Guest_Don_*]

Quick response to Merlin,

Yup!

Don

[jgdittier]

Dear Mary and All,
My quest has been for over 5 years now to foster appreciation for the bards and the poetic practices of yore.
Just now has come an opportunity to do so.
We've all enjoyed the tongue-in-cheek suggestions regarding Mr.Frost's deviances from modern poetic STYLE. We've welcomed Mr. Frost's entrance into our group but with mock dudgeon suggested he "get with it". We've
not focussed on his simple, beautiful, memorable poem which is so easily committed to memory and recited. Rather, we've suggested that the modern
style is the right style and that the series of no-nos we've attributed to his poem would actually improve his effort.
Earlier in the comments above appears the quote, "How truly can today's biases be incorporated into old era practices?" Think about it. Were his poem written today, how would it be marked by the red-pencil wielding university professor?
Can we hold in high regard an art form of the past and still accept the rightness of that of the current age?
If Byron and Keats and Wordsworth and Longfellow are now passe, then in the music field should we similarly demean Beethoven, Mozart, Tchaikovski? Is Rembrandt's style to be supplanted by the smear now called modern art?
Who amongst us understands where all the modern R&M no-nos came from or why they were adopted? Do they have greater status than etiquette?
The sundial was invented prior to 1500 B.C. The number four on the face was IIII, not IV. Clocks ever since which use such numerals still exhibit the IIII.
Maybe change should come only with improvement!
Cheers, Ron jgd

[Guest_Don_*]

It is good to know the superstitions of the past and present to know which is which and shoulders upon which we stand to view fresh horizons oftentimes seen before. The hourglass meters sand, but humans evaluate the pile.

Don