Blog 5, Childhood Memories

As one reflects on their childhood, many new emotions or realizations are learned. As an eighteen year old, one feels as thought their childhood is still lingering somewhere internally. And yet at the same time they know it is truly over. In all four poems, “Fern Hill” by Dylan Thomas, “The Video” by Fleur Adcock, “My Papa’s Waltz” by Theodore Roethke and “Bored” by Margaret Atwood all express children in particular situations. All four shed light on the possible darker side of childhood that is often not looked at.

Dylan Thomas’s “Fern Hill” depicts a man looking back on his carefree childhood. Thomas writes, “And I was green and carefree, famous among the barns/About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home, In the sun that is young once only, Time let me play and be/Golden in the mercy of his means,” (lines 10-14). Showing how blissfully, almost ignorantly, the boy enjoyed his time. He felt as though he and sun were young together and lived in a “golden” time. The form of the poem also fits nicely with the content. The stanzas are not typical in that they have numerous indents and odd spacing. Just by simply looking at the page, the reader’s eyes jump around the page. This is important because it almost forces a certain liveliness and childlike excitement when reading the poem. The wording and tones also read so arbitrary it appears as though the writer is in the mindset of his childhood self. At the end of the poem Thomas writes, “And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land. Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, Time held me green and dying/ Though I sang in my chains like the sea,” (lines 51-54). The tone of the final stanza is almost bittersweet. When one thinks of “green” the typical connotations is life; trees, grass, spring etc. Dying however seems to be the last word one would pair with green. This creates a moving and heartbreaking reality for the reader. It reminds one of Peter Pan, never wanting to truly grow up because youth is something that is not eternal, but the memories are.

Fluer Adock’s “ The Video” is a comical and almost disturbing poem about the birth of a little girl. When one thinks of a birth there are thoughts of joy, mothers holding their newborn, a proud father watching over, and many people smiling. As a child of four, being the third, I recall clearly when my little brother was born. I was not pleased and felt a jealously that never really went away. The poem is by an omniscient narrator who tells the story through the sister, Ceri’s, account. Ceri watched the birth happen and her father filmed it, “…trying to focus the camcorder/on Mum’s legs and the baby’s head” (lines 5&6). That focus can be seen as a figurative focus from Ceri to the new baby Laura. At the end of them poem is it revealed that Ceri, “…played/the video again and again. She watched Laura come out, and then, / in reverse, she made her go back in” (lines 8-12). Although a humorous ending it is also a little sad that Ceri did not want her little sister. However this is a very typical reaction. When I was born I am told my older sister Liz would bite my toes and use my head as a footrest when she watched TV. The rhyme scheme of the poem almost reads like a children’s poem, further enhancing the main themes.

Theodore Roethke’s “My Papa’s Waltz” illustrates the writers reflections of his relationship with his father. From the start it is introduced that the relationship is not exactly healthy when it is revealed that the dad had whiskey on his breath. However the speaker explains that he “hung on like death” (line 3) when his father would “waltz” with him. Already a theme of uneven love is shown. The speaker clearly wanted and strived for love from his dad and never fully received what he expected. A waltz is thought as a beautiful dance, however, this kind of waltz is more gloomy than glorious. It shows the speaker reflecting on a sad moment in his childhood. Many recall these feelings of hope and expectation being lost as a result of growing up. And often people grow up and realize their parents are not the perfect beings they once thought they were. Roethke seems to be dealing with this realization with this disappointment.

Margaret Atwood’s “Bored” is a poem describing her seemingly boring childhood with her father. Atwood explains how her childhood was filled with “Holding the log/while he sawed it” (lines 2&3) and other benign activities that meant nothing at the time. I can see this in my own life, as I often remember having to do boring things with my family that I hated to do. But as I reflect on those times, they are my favorite times. They were the times in which there was a certain silent happiness in our boredom. Atwood when writing this poem, expressed it was about the loss of her father and this is clearly seen. The poem is actually quite boring up until about half way through the poem. The part that struck me was when she writes, “Why do I remember it as sunnier/all the time then, although it more often rained, and more birdsong? I could hardly wait to get/the hell out of there to/anywhere else. Perhaps though/boredom is happier” (lines 30-35). There is a strong transition and almost a point of realization that occurs. The speaker realizes that perhaps the most simple of times are the best of times. The structure and form of the poem are also a little confusing in their nature, which adds to the confusion that the writer is perhaps feeling as well.

I recall when I was younger how I hated being forced to go to Sunday school. I didn’t understand why it was important and never thought about it. However it is one of the clearer of things I recall of my younger years. I remember the lessons I learned and everything that was apart of those seemingly long Sundays. And when I think of the Year of the City I often think about those biblical stories and the importance of Christian beliefs. More importantly however, I realize how important my family has impacted my life. I do not pretend to act as though my siblings and I have always gotten along, and I don’t pretend that I have never been ashamed or embarrassed of my parents. However I do realize as my childhood chapter is closing more rapidly as the day progress that at some point in my life, perhaps far from now, I will have to confront it.