[Roger Slater]

I don't understand why the last line can be considered a turn. As I commented earlier, it seems to me to all little to what's been said or strongly implied earlier. But the word "turn" helps me make my earlier point. I'd like to see a stronger and somewhat more surprising turn in that last line.

[Jim Burrows]

It never gets as good as "frieze of fallen men" again, and that's too bad, because it sets expectations high. "alive and well" and "blown away" are clichés that felt like clichés when I was reading them, and "blown away" has a connotation that couldn't be intended here. I agree that "strength" is not the mot juste, but it's no more vanilla and general than the preceding 12 lines. It's almost as if the writing is plain out of respect for its subject. On the other hand, it did capture something fascinating and heartbreaking about dementia: the sudden changing, the being here, completely present and lucid, one moment, and being somewhere far away the next.

[Roger Slater]

Originally Posted by Elle Bruno

Hello,
Roger asks:
In any event, what does the last line really add?
For me, the poem opens with the woman speaking of the men as if they are still alive.
It ends with her realization that they are all dead.
I see this woman as going in and out of reality and the past.

I now see what you mean, Elle, but for me (denser than many) the opening lines didn't immediately suggest that the woman actually believed in that moment that the frieze of men were actually still alive and well. I just took it to mean that they were still very much alive in her recollection and conversation, that she spoke vividly about them. I now see that my reading wasn't as careful as it might have been.

Perhaps one of the things that threw me was the "again," which is not how the woman in her dementia would have phrased it -- she would have said "still," not "again."

Unless I'm the only poor reader who needs further clarification, I'd suggest that the opening lines be tweaked slightly to make it clear that the woman actually believes, in the moment, that the men are still alive. Even changing "were" to "are" might help, though maybe "as though they're still alive" or something of that nature might be worth considering.

But yes, I now see that the last line is indeed a strong turn if one doesn't fail to understand the opening the way I did.

[Petra Norr]

I can understand Elle's reading, and I realize now that it's probably the correct one and the whole point of the poem: the woman has dementia and slips in and out of reality. And that makes the poem poignant. But I can still wonder things like, where is the woman's mother in all this? Why is it only her father who is mentioned, and why are all the other deceased individuals men? I supposed that's because it's based on a true event, a true person. But looking at the poem in a more general way, I do feel the dead male list slants the poem. If it had only been husbands and lovers who were mentioned as dead, that, too, would have provided a slant and said something about her personality, perhaps. But now we have brothers, father, and son, too. Intended by the poet or not, it just looks like it has to mean something that they're all male. If it's not "where have all the flowers/young men gone", then it's certainly singing some tune or other.

[Spindleshanks]

It's a touching character study competently constructed, but let down, as Sam says, by some of the diction. "Manifold" is ill-fitting: meets the definition criterion, but smacks of being chosen to meet the metre.
As it's a Shakespearean, it's not an imperative that the volta occur in the position demanded of the Italian—the couplet fills that role. In this instance, however, there is a clear turn after L10, with the movement from the party to afterward, marked by the N's direct address to the matriarch. It's an uneasy transition, though; a "say—what?" moment. We have the bored children playing on the floor, then the sudden unheralded shift to the vacated room. It could have been better achieved by something like:
The children,bored, are first to find the door.

Competent enough, but not fully achieved. I suspect there are better in store.

Peter

[Jesse Anger]

I liked it then, I like it now.

I would have done away with the perfect rhyme, so it would read--

and barely blow each candle flame away

J

Maybe even a comma after flame.

[Jayne Osborn]

I would have done away with the perfect rhyme, so it would read--
and barely blow each candle flame away

Jesse,
Sorry, but I disagree with you about 'doing away with the perfect rhyme', when you've got a rhyme scheme of:

men/son/again/begun
name/hands/flame/commands
away/floor/away/more
son/one.

There are already two lines ending in 'away', which is pushing it slightly, though I agree with Pedro that 'put away' and 'gone away' are different actions. (Personally, if it was my poem, though, I think I'd have tried to avoid doing that.)

[Roger Slater]

I also vote against using "away" twice. Pedro's observation is true, but it doesn't change the fact that "away" simply doesn't rhyme with "away." Adding a third "away" might actually improve things (though I don't recommend it) because it would make it clear that the duplication is not a "mistake" but a deliberate tactic being used to create a tone that arguably suits the subject matter.

[Wintaka]

In addition to the age question that others have have brought up, there is also a slight antecedent issue with "Their children". I suspect "Grandchildren" would solve both problems without disturbing the meter much.

When guests arrive and lighter talk’s begun

The contraction of "has" strikes me as inconsistent with the tone of the piece. I'd consider a simple fix like:

As guests arrive, with lighter talk begun,

FWIW, I share the reservations about "manifold" that others have mentioned. These nits aside, this is, indeed, one of the best sonnets I've read this year.

-o-

[Maryann Corbett]

Would it be out of line to ask those who dislike "manifold" to say more about their objections? I've checked two dictionaries, and the meaning "of many kinds; numerous and varied" seems suited to this situation: The daughters are running the party and giving orders to make things happen at the right time. Is the problem just the formality of the diction, or something more?

People have noted the identity-rhyme of "away," but I don't think anyone has noted that the ordinariness of "put away" and "gone away" is another matter that might be fixed. (My inner EfH will not be silent about that.)

Today's two sonnets may suffer a little by being in each other's company, simply because both are about age and death. Their being together reminds us that this topic risks being overtreated.