Sonnet 2 – As Such, A Simile; As Much, A Sonnet
 

As Such, A Simile; As Much, A Sonnet

-
There was a Man,
   an old man now,

as angry   then,
   as angry   now

about what Happened
   by Such,   on Such:

Thus,   much Unjust
   still leaves   Nonplussed,

as such back Then
   as much as Now.

….
There is   This Man,
   not Then,   but Now,

that needs to Know,
   to Live,   Somehow.
-




Full disclosure: I tend to be a traditionalist. So when I first looked at this piece, my thought was "This is a sonnet?" As a reader, I probably would have passed over it with no further ado. But with my judge's hat on, I have tried to leave my prejudices behind, and give every poem a fair and objective reading – as much as that's possible! – And in so doing, I found myself liking this odd little piece very much.

There's something about the two-beat lines, the nursery rhyme quality, the strange rhymes… that give it a deceptive simplicity, and that somehow underscore the old man's sense of bewilderment, his belated attempt "to know/to Live, Somehow". The capitalizations are strange also, yet somehow work for me, although I can't exactly say how.

But – is it a sonnet? I think you could argue that it is. 14 lines of course does not a sonnet make. But if you break it down, you can see a sonnet-type structure – even though it's set up as couplets, there is a coherence and a movement, and at the ellipsis, a turn, where it switches from past to present, and builds up to the surprising and poignant concluding couplet.

I should add, that as objective as you try to be, a poem ultimately works on a subliminal level, and this definitely works that way for me. Perhaps because it reminds me of someone who was very close to me. That being said, I have a feeling this piece will be controversial. Which should be interesting. I look forward to hearing what others have to say.

I really don't care if someone wants to call this a "sonnet," but my own opinion is that having a "sonnet-type structure" does not, by itself, make a poem a sonnet. Lots of poems that no one would call a sonnet have coherence, movement, and something resembling a turn. My own view is that if the only reason we wonder about the sonnet-ness of a poem is because the poet decided to call it a sonnet, it's not a sonnet. Sonnets are not sonnets by fiat.

But I do like the poem very much, whatever its label. Still, I feel the middle three couplets could be syntactically sounder. Their contribution to the poem is a bit muddy, since it seems that you could leave them out and the remaining four couplets would hold together without them.

I loved reading this one out loud. And I like the poem. Sonnet? I dunno, but I liked it and have read it many times and will read it again. I can't say that for a lot of poems I have read.

I'll leave the sonnet debate for you accomplished sonneteers.

I'd like to know more about why we like it. For now, I'm thinking it's over my head. Maybe I'll "get" it later--when I have time for rereading or when some kind person 'splains it to me.

It's not a sonnet for me, but so what? I don't care much about holding that line and invariably enjoy the debate over what counts as a sonnet and what doesn't.

I don't know Simon why we like it. I know *I* like the sound of it, and the puzzle of it - both of which inspire me to read it again.

I like the simplicity and compactness of this one. My complaint is the fourth couplet, which seems awkward, in both diction and forced-seeming rhyme. And not sure about the title....

A man, a plan, a sonnet... Or something.

I like this one, especially the sound of it, and I enjoy its cryptic qualities. Though Roger's right about the syntax not being quite right in the middle couplets. And he's also right that the first four lines and last four lines could stand alone, and maybe not lose much.

I feel a little let down by the way "happened" and "such" are unrhymed...or okay, maybe slant rhymed with the other lines. And on examination, I'm starting to find it unsatisfying the way lines 9-10 are stuck onto the preceding 8 lines, leaving lines 11-14 as an odd sort of concluding segment--neither sestet nor couplet. So it mimics a sonnet structure, but then it falls awkwardly in between the two best known versions.

Well, and on still further examination, "know" is an eye rhyme. Which didn't bother me--in fact I found it refreshing at that point. So maybe the earlier deviances don't matter.... Or maybe it's odd to be worrying about rhyme, when half the lines are actual repetitions.

Or maybe (I think this is my conclusion) there's an odd mix here of the very precise and somewhat loose engineering. And I think, in something this cryptic and sly-seeming, I'd like more precision.

The judge says sonnet
 

So sonnet it is for this competition.

I liked its simplicity. I think more detail would mess up the effect. I did find a few lines clunky:

"as angry then,/as angry now" works better as "as angry then/as he his now" and would give the poem a little room to breathe.

"Happened," putting the "then" rhyme on the falling portion of the word, doesn't work for me.

"Thus, much Unjust/still leaves Nonplussed" would work better as "Much still Unjust/leave him Nonplussed," using the non-North American sense of "nonplussed" I suppose.

"to Live, Somehow" That comma isn't necessary.

As for the capitals, weird and old-fashioned, but I like them.

The "Is this a sonnet?" question does not particularly interest me and is bound to rouse the reactionaries; however, I find this poem to be more successful at pushing the boundaries of sonnethood than the one headlining this thread. The former, at least, approximates a sonnet's constraints as much as it can under it's own constraints (that is, it pushes the polka dots as far as they can go into resembling a sonnet). The poem above has far less strenuous constraints--it can use actual words, for instance--but violates the physics of its self-made world.

Let me unpack this idea a bit more: The use of dimeter is good; it sets up the proper tone and texture of what's to come. The couplets also fit the poem. I don't understand what is gained by not using any sonnet form's rhyme scheme (Petrarchan, Shakespearian, Spencerian) and by replacing the traditional sestet with a quartet. The poem doesn't have to be a sonnet, I am not sure why the author wishes it to be one, or what the poem gains by being a sonnet.

In my opinion, this is an interesting, but failed, experiment... if taken as a sonnet.

I’m wondering why the poem is in italics-perhaps it is referencing another poem.

The nonspecific language in the verse opens the narrative to wide interpretation-probably a universal theme but a specific narrative that each reader creates, because we perceive meaning individually.

I see this as a poem about a man who was hurt or wronged-or felt as though he had been wronged- when he was younger causing him to become cold hearted or unaware of the effects of his actions on others; or perhaps shutting down to the point where he became numb (nonplussed) to the wrongs around him. The tragedy is that the boy or young man becomes someone who doesn’t know how to live or perhaps (unspoken) love.
I did find this couplet syntactically awkward and initially, puzzling.

Thus, much Unjust
still leaves Nonplussed,

Thus, much Unjust
still leaves Nonplussed,

I am the contrarian today. I like this for its striking rhyme, and I don't find the syntax all that troubling. Using an adjective for a noun, or omitting the copula, is not unheard of; I read "much [that is] Unjust" without difficulty. And I'm intrigued by the decision I have to make in the next line: is it "me," the N., or the impersonal "one" I should fill in before "Nonplussed"?

My full disclosure is that I've been reading Berryman's Dream Songs and am currently in love with weird grammar and pleased with the small challenges of working it out. Standard syntax, like standard capitalization, would make this poem less interesting.

I've already said it, but that fourth couplet is the only one with such close rhyme -- very distracting. Whether I think it's a sonnet or not, it's a nicely simple poem until that word "nonplussed." Awkward and forced. A "big word," as they say, that doesn't seem to belong in the poem. It's not syntax for me but diction.

I probably wouldn't have read this if I'd seen it in a book somewhere or something, but since it was here, and I did, I quite like the beginning and the ending. The 4th & 5th stanzas don't work for me - the fourth is difficult to say and the fifth is just confusing.
I don't know if I would call it a sonnet; it doesn't feel like one to me, but it's an interesting poem.

I just can't make myself like this Not-a-Sonnet. I wish I liked it. I find it annoyingly cryptic, though the caps are vaguely interesting.

A little bit clever, but . . . I like Mary's and David's word "cryptic." A sonnet in dimeters can be a brilliantly concise gem, but I'd like those short lines to be packed with intriguing words and/or images; I want the nursery-rhyme lilt to be contradicted by something more clearly disturbing (and I want the lilt to be more precise).

This little poem has nothing of the feel of a sonnet for me. Nor is there the consistent light fun of a nursery rhyme, having too much attention given to the syntax—and even that not successfully—or to trying for the enigmatic. Like a child’s rhyme imitated by a stodgy grown-up? (And yes, the word nonplussed.) I find myself reading it over and over and still ending up saying, “so what?”

One is tempted to think that this poem was chosen solely to stir up controversy.

Sonnet or not this one elicits a big hippo yawn for me. I'll just go on chewing my swamp grass, thanks.

A sonnet? Maybe.

A successful poem? Not for me, anyway. I find the capitals a pretentious distraction. ED wannabee? :rolleyes:

I understood N as being the "Man" in question. A sort of internal dialogue by a man, perhaps past his prime. Teetering on the brink of self-pity.

I don't think the poem comes even near to being good enough to provoke "controversy".

FYI - The original post of the sonnet was missing spacing intended by the author. I've just added them.

...Alex

Like Cyn, I read this aloud. Several times. I am not a gesticulator as a rule, but I found myself pausing and physically reaching on each of the capitalised words, making a gap into which more words came, silently. The words that were necessary to make it make sense. To me. Other people will have different words, different hooks on which to hang the anger.

I could put my words in and scan them into a conventional sonnet. But if I did it would be a different poem - and an utterly conventional statement of the bleeding obvious. So I won't. But you could if you wanted to.

It's much better with the corrected spacing, and I agree with Ann there there are gaps that one instinctively tries to feel and fill now, narrative lacunae that emerge from the broken rhythm of the corrected visual presentation. And that seems reflected in the need to know with which the poem ends. I think the effect of the somewhat colorless language is the whole point, even though it is a bit off-putting at first. It is a great lesson in visual choreography that this revised presentation can change the poem so much. I think it demonstrates a very sophisticated use of a tool that many poets don't even begin to utilize, because they denigrate it as mere trickery. It seems the opposite of gimmickry here, a solid technique, well-handled.

Nemo

I like it and am willing to accept it as a sonnet. Why is in in italics? I don't much care for italics.

I understand the need for the italics. They don't bother me whatsoever. The new spacing Alex has inserted does make the poem a tad more intriguing.

With ALL due respect to the DG, this statement worries me. I would hope that the DG was selected for his / her stature as a poet and critic, rather than his / her ability to do what seems to be the more political thing and try to make a broader judgment. I wish we saw the poems that resonate most with the DG, rather than a more calculated smattering.

As for this poem, I care for neither its form or content. It's not the lack of concrete imagery, so much as the lack of sonnet feel, as others have mentioned. Sure, I'd never call this a sonnet because of its form, but more importantly it just doesn't have any of the sonnet elements. Might as well call a haiku a villanelle, and a sestina a ballad.

There is,
not then
This man,
but now
That needs
to live,
to know
somehow

I think my eye starts to unpack different meaning/emphasis with this spacing. The words can translocate and then return to their usual positions.

spaces
 

I can't say the spaces do much for me. They're trying that "We Real Cool" thing, forcing a certain cadence into the poem, but imho I think the diction and punctuation should do that. Some lines do flow better, but in others the sentence structure works against the author's line reading. That would be an interesting technique if such a tension were necessary to express another level of the poem, such as an unspoken inner conflict, but that doesn't seem to be the case here.

Tiny spaces make a huge difference. I really like it now.

This one got off to a great start, but lost me after the first 6 lines, picking up again at the end. Might be better as a shorter poem, when the bake-off is over.

I'm sorry.

Sonnet?

Can't see it.

Not now.

No how.

It works better for me with the spaces.

Of course it's a sonnet, just as "Paradise Lost" is unmistakeably a limerick.

I'm not a purist about what a sonnet can be. I like to see people play with the expectations of the form. I love the one-syllable lines of George Starbuck's "Space-Saver Sonnets" in hemimeter. But I feel there is too much omitted in this poem for me to grasp more than a yearning from it.

Susan

I think it's an admirable poem, but it works - with the spaces added - as a unique poem, not as a sonnet. As originally posted it was more sonnetaristic (recognizing we all have our individual definitions), but I didn't think it was very interesting. The spacing makes a big difference, but I no longer think of it as a sonnet.

Double post - sorry.

Yes, as a poem. No, as a sonnet.

No single line in this short a poem carries enough weight by itself to constitute a sonnet line in my undistinguished opinion. There is something about lines to be considered here: 14 lines yes, but what is a line in a sonnet? I believe each couplet is holding itself as a line, with some connection(s)/ tensions developed in each of those lines. I don't believe a line is any set of words ending in a line break, but, particularly in a sonnet, where the "lines" are counted, is an element that picks up a thread of meaning and partially develops it or contributes to its development. Each "line" of dimeter in this piece seems to have a strong need for its "mate" in the couplet. In one of the more favored couplets for ex,
Each line alone does not stand really but needs the other line.
Thus much Unjust itself doesn't do anything. The poem has 7 "sonnet-style" lines.

These ideas however only apply to a sonnet, I think. I love the spacing and what it does, but that technique, however sophisticated and useful, is not one of the techniques of a sonnet. Call it something else, I rather like it! But a sonnet is not just a poem with 14 lines, "lines" being any group of words that ends in a line break. Each line should be a line in a more traditional sense, and it should "work" without the use of spacing techniques. Give those techniques, and this form, a name, and let it have its own competition...

Old Guard Schoolmarm Naysayer

Whether or not it's a sonnet, this is the liveliest of the four that have appeared so far. Since it's close enough to qualify, I think the DG did the right thing by including it. (Yes, the DG was no doubt sitting up all night worrying about whether I approved of his/her actions.)

I read this as sort of "insta-sonnet mix": if you were to add a bunch of details and stir, you'd get a conventional sonnet. I wouldn't enjoy eating a sonnet baked that way (which is actually how I feel about the other entrants so far), but eating the mix straight out of the box is awesome.

Reminds me a bit of this limerick.

There seems to be an agreement among critics that Elizabeth Bishop's "Sonnet" (not the first one written as a teenager but the second one written not too long before her death) can be called a sonnet -- even with it's short lines and a sestet that comes before the octet. If that is the case, I think that this poem deserves to be thought of as a sonnet. I am actually wondering if the author of this is using Bishop's poem as a model since, for me, the turn happens with the colon at the end of the sixth line. Maybe this could be thought of as a sonnet form -- something a bit different like Hopkins' curtal sonnet.

I did find this poem much more compelling with the indentations of the second line of each stanza.

loses the melody in the fourth verse, are they all this bad?

Well. Somewhat intriguing, perhaps. The nursery-rhyme feel mentioned by the DG is one of the things it has going for it.

But--and I speak as one who likes to bend the boundaries of "sonnet" a bit--it seems to me too much of a stretch to call this a sonnet, just because the word "sonnet" is in its title, and choose it as a finalist in a contest meant to be specifically for sonnets!

I felt hugely jarred in every way at "nonplussed,"-- a word that definitely has its place in poetry and prose, but this place in this poem is not it.

I do rather like the last four lines...

For the first several readings, I also thought that "nonplussed" was a bad choice. But then I tried to find another word that would fit better -- and came up with nothing that, for me, expressed the kind of confusion the N is feeling. Something extremely hurtful has happened and the N can't -- even after many years -- understand why. There is almost a desperate need for resolution. The more I read, the more I like "nonplussed" and the way it occurs just as the poem turns. And the more I like the poem.