Thank you again to all of you who looked in… and continued to look in! And forgive me for reviving this thread, but I’m doing so at the urging of my good friend Jan I., who requested in my “Concrete Noir” thread: “But if you feel so inclined on the architect one not a full exegesis but a nod or two would be appreciated.” So here it comes—nods only, no full unveiling!
I’m not usually one to explicate my poems—like many of you, I imagine—but I’ll say a few words about where this one is coming from.
One of the driving premises here is the old adage that one person’s villain is another’s hero. Relatedly: who gets to decide which is which? History has a way of bending toward the lens of the historian, and the narrator here—much like Browning’s speaker in “My Last Duchess”—is someone confident in their own narrative, but not necessarily a trustworthy source. The mention of historical and mythological figures is intentionally slippery. Are they inspirations, justifications, or warnings? That depends on whose side you're on—or whether sides even matter to this speaker.
Formally, the controlled, symmetrical stanza structure and rhyme scheme mirror the speaker’s sense of discipline and purpose—someone who sees their craft as exacting, noble, and honed, regardless of what the world might think of the result. The poem intentionally invites questions about intent, culpability, and perception. The speaker might be a maker of tools, weapons, or something more insidious—or sublime—depending on your perspective. And theirs.
I hope that offers a bit more footing, without deflating the poem’s ambiguity or rhetorical tension. Thanks again for your insights and close readings. And still looking forward to hearing your thoughts on the last revision posted!
Cheers,
…Alex
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