What Is Life? by John Clare
And what is Life? An hour-glass on
the run,
A mist retreating from the morning sun,
A busy, bustling, still-repeated dream.
Its length? A minute's pause, a moment's thought.
And Happiness? A bubble on the stream,
That in the act of seizing shrinks to nought.
And what is Hope? The puffing gale of morn,
That of its charms divests the dewy lawn,
And robs each flow'ret of its gem—and dies;
A cobweb, hiding disappointment's thorn,
Which stings more keenly through the thin disguise.
And what is Death? Is still the cause unfound?
That dark mysterious name of horrid sound?
A long and lingering sleep the weary crave.
And Peace? Where can its happiness abound?
Nowhere at all, save heaven and the grave.
Then what is Life? When stripped of its disguise,
A thing to be desired it cannot be;
Since everything that meets our foolish eyes
Gives proof sufficient of its vanity.
'Tis but a trial all must undergo,
To teach unthankful mortals how to prize
That happiness vain man's denied to know,
Until he's called to claim it in the skies.
A mist retreating from the morning sun,
A busy, bustling, still-repeated dream.
Its length? A minute's pause, a moment's thought.
And Happiness? A bubble on the stream,
That in the act of seizing shrinks to nought.
And what is Hope? The puffing gale of morn,
That of its charms divests the dewy lawn,
And robs each flow'ret of its gem—and dies;
A cobweb, hiding disappointment's thorn,
Which stings more keenly through the thin disguise.
And what is Death? Is still the cause unfound?
That dark mysterious name of horrid sound?
A long and lingering sleep the weary crave.
And Peace? Where can its happiness abound?
Nowhere at all, save heaven and the grave.
Then what is Life? When stripped of its disguise,
A thing to be desired it cannot be;
Since everything that meets our foolish eyes
Gives proof sufficient of its vanity.
'Tis but a trial all must undergo,
To teach unthankful mortals how to prize
That happiness vain man's denied to know,
Until he's called to claim it in the skies.
The train of logic that the poem follows is in a circle, and adds to the mystery and inscrutability of life. It circles from Life to Hope to Death back to Life. The way that these entities are described can be characterized as through the five senses, which is a way to show the reader the experience that is meant to be conveyed through the poem, rather than to tell it. Thus, the poem creates a sentiment that readers can relate to and understand and marvel at this inscrutability of life.
ReplyDelete"And what is Life?" remains the timeless question. The bane of existence. Truly, life is only "a minute's pause" that offers "A bubble on the stream" for happiness (4-5). Then why do we live? Why not adopt existentialism? There is no hope, or is there? Although hope is perceived as a protectant to hide "disappointment's thorn," it gives a chance for eternal salvation and for self-improvement (11). While happiness may continue to ellude the natural world, the reason for living is to experience eternal bliss, to reach for the skies no matter what anyone tells you. This aspiration provides an endearing sentiment and a peace when faced with mortality, providing closure (comparable to my final blog comment here).
ReplyDeleteMargaret Atwood was actually the author I read for my summer reading project, and I absolutely love her writing. She develops characters who are very morose, and uses the same tone throughout her writing. The poem you chose, John Clare’s “What is Life” had a very similar tone to this. He asks a lot of broad questions that challenge the optimism others have towards life, in the same way I believe Atwood does, always challenging conventional means of being happy. The line “and what is Hope? The puffing gale of morn, / That of its charms divests the dewy lawn, / And robs each flow'ret of its gem—and dies; / A cobweb, hiding disappointment's thorn,
ReplyDeleteWhich stings more keenly through the thin disguise” displays this negativity towards life, accompanied by a bluntness that both he and Atwood share that then convince the reader of the logic to their argument.
“And what is Life?” remains a timeless question presented by John Clare. The bane of existence. Truly, life is only “a minute’s pause” that offers “A bubble on the stream” for happiness (Clare 4-5). Then why do we live? Why not adopt existentialism? There is no hope, or is there? Although hope is perceived as a protectant to hide “disappointment’s thorn,” it gives a chance for eternal salvation, the path toward self-improvement (Clare 11). Personifying “Life” as “an hour-glass on the run” and “A mist retreating from the morning sun,” Clare explicates how the human condition is chaos (Clare 1-2). Humanity is concerned with time-management and schedules. There is no time or place for relaxing, appreciating nature’s beauty, or being creative. Leaves life lacking something.
ReplyDeleteWhile happiness may continue to elude the natural world, the reason for living is to experience bliss, to reach for the stars without fear of falling. This aspiration creates an endearing sentiment and a peace when faced with the truth of mortality, providing closure (comparable to my final blog comment here).