twelveoone
ground zero
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2004
- Posts
- 5,882
from:
http://newcriterion.com:81/archive/15/feb97/ransom.htm
You can appreciate the genius of Ransom’s rhythms by artificially marking out the first two lines as if they followed the strict iambic pentameter meter. The first line has the expected ten syllables; the second is the same, with an extra unstressed syllable giving the line a feminine ending:
x / x / x / x / x /
Twirling your blue skirts, travelling the sward,
x / x / x / x / x / x
Under the towers of your seminary . . .
That stilted and deliberately tin-eared scansion gives the norm, the base meter against which Ransom, and all the other great metricists—including Shakespeare, Milton, Pope, Keats, Yeats, Frost, and Auden—work. (To readers with a well-developed ear, as well as anyone who has ever read Paul Fussell’s little gem, Poetic Meter and Poetic Form, this is all commonplace. I apologize to them: they are few in number.) Here’s how the line really goes. (I am using the mark , to represent a secondary stress, accented to be sure, but not emphatically):
/ x x / / x x /
Twirling your blue skirts, travelling the sward
/ x x / x x x / x x
Under the towers of your seminary,
/ / x x x / x / x / x
Go listen to your teachers old and contrary
x / x / x x /
Without believing a word.
Part of the beauty of the first line lies in the spondaic effect of “blue skirts” followed, after the caesura or pause, by the additional accent that occurs in the first syllable of “travelling,” the last two syllables of which a good reader wants to elide for the sake of the phrasing. The line is a little rhythmical unit with two almost identical phrases, each beginning with the same consonant sound and each suggesting a triplet rhythm, like a measure of music with a triplet laid across the 4/4 meter. (The first line of the second stanza echoes that rhythm, though not exactly, with “white” and the first syllable of “fillets” echoing “blue skirts,” and “then” providing the accent that begins the second half-line.) The third line attacks strongly, its imperative emphasized by the spondee in the first foot: “Go listen,” and ending with the graceful feminine ending on “seminary”—an old-fashioned name for a private school, incidentally, not necessarily suggesting a school of theology. The last line has a very strong anapestic (x x /) feeling. Here’s the second stanza unsullied by scansion markings: ....
does this make sense to you?
http://newcriterion.com:81/archive/15/feb97/ransom.htm
You can appreciate the genius of Ransom’s rhythms by artificially marking out the first two lines as if they followed the strict iambic pentameter meter. The first line has the expected ten syllables; the second is the same, with an extra unstressed syllable giving the line a feminine ending:
x / x / x / x / x /
Twirling your blue skirts, travelling the sward,
x / x / x / x / x / x
Under the towers of your seminary . . .
That stilted and deliberately tin-eared scansion gives the norm, the base meter against which Ransom, and all the other great metricists—including Shakespeare, Milton, Pope, Keats, Yeats, Frost, and Auden—work. (To readers with a well-developed ear, as well as anyone who has ever read Paul Fussell’s little gem, Poetic Meter and Poetic Form, this is all commonplace. I apologize to them: they are few in number.) Here’s how the line really goes. (I am using the mark , to represent a secondary stress, accented to be sure, but not emphatically):
/ x x / / x x /
Twirling your blue skirts, travelling the sward
/ x x / x x x / x x
Under the towers of your seminary,
/ / x x x / x / x / x
Go listen to your teachers old and contrary
x / x / x x /
Without believing a word.
Part of the beauty of the first line lies in the spondaic effect of “blue skirts” followed, after the caesura or pause, by the additional accent that occurs in the first syllable of “travelling,” the last two syllables of which a good reader wants to elide for the sake of the phrasing. The line is a little rhythmical unit with two almost identical phrases, each beginning with the same consonant sound and each suggesting a triplet rhythm, like a measure of music with a triplet laid across the 4/4 meter. (The first line of the second stanza echoes that rhythm, though not exactly, with “white” and the first syllable of “fillets” echoing “blue skirts,” and “then” providing the accent that begins the second half-line.) The third line attacks strongly, its imperative emphasized by the spondee in the first foot: “Go listen,” and ending with the graceful feminine ending on “seminary”—an old-fashioned name for a private school, incidentally, not necessarily suggesting a school of theology. The last line has a very strong anapestic (x x /) feeling. Here’s the second stanza unsullied by scansion markings: ....
does this make sense to you?