The following assignment looks at two short pieces.
Alan Bennet. Nights in the garden of Spain.
A plain suburbian drawing room wall. Rosemary is a middle-aged, middle-class woman, sitting on a chair.
Nobody normally gets killed around here; they're mostly detached houses and you never even hear shouting. So it took me a minute to tipple to what she was saying.
I said, "Dead? Is it a heart attack?" She said, Oh no. Nothing like that. Just look at me, I'm in my bare feet."
I really only know her to nod to but they have a lovely Magnolia so once when she was in the garden I called out, "You've had more luck with your agnolia grandiflora than I have." But she's just smiled and said,"Yes." And since I didn't have another remark up my sleeve ready, that was the end of that. I do that all the time, start a conversation but can't keep it going.
Blondish woman, a bit washed out looking. Nice, tired sort of face. Anyway she comes out into the road and waits for me to get to their gate and says, "I know I don't really know you, only there's something wrong with Mr McCorkindale."
I was actually rushing because I'd planned on getting the five to nine and going into Sainsbury's but anyway I went in. I said, "Has he been poorly?" She said, "No. I have a feeling he's dead. Come through ... only Mrs Horrocks ... he doesn't have any trousers on." I said, "Well, I do a stint at the hospice twice a week, that's not a problem." Only to be fair I just take the trolley round I've never actually been there when anybody's been going and they think I'm not really ready to administer the consolation yet.
She had a nice linen dress on, very simple. I think she might have been drinking.
He was lying on his back on the rug, one of those fleecy hairy things with blood and whatnot coming from somewhere behind his head. And it's awful because the first thing I thought was, well, she's never get that out.
He had on these green y-fronty things which I'd have thought were a bit young for someone who's retired, but Henry is the same, suddenly taking it into his head to go in for something he thinks is a bit more dashing. Little Teryllene socks. I said, "Should I touch him?" She said, "Well, if you can if you want but he's dead. I've been sitting here looking at him for an hour." I said, "His pants are on back to front". She said, "Oh that's me. I thought I'd better put them on before I fetch somebody in."
He had a little tattoo not far from his belly button and I remember when they moved in Henry said he thought he had something to do with vending machines.
I said, "Did he bang his head, do you think?" She said, "Oh no. I shot him. I've put the gun away." And she opens the sideboard drawer and there it is with the tablemats and playing cards. He had a gun because he'd been inMalaya apparently.
My first thought was to ring Henry and ask what to do but I couldn't face the fuss. I was a bit I was still a bit nervous of calling 999 because I'm never sure what constitutes an emergency. Anyway I thought if she'd waited an hour already I might as well get her a cup of tea first, and as I was running the tab I called out, "The police haven't already being, have they?" She said, "No. Why?" I said, "Nothing."
Only there was a pair of handcuffs on the draining board.
The policeman had some difficulty writing. A big boy, nice is, spelling all over the place.
When I asked what he thought had happened he said, "Well, it's marriage isn't it, the stresses and strains of. Though we don't normally expect it with oldish people, they've generally got it out of their system by then. And it's a bit early in the day. People seem to like to get breakfast out of the way before the shooting starts."
I'm just signing my statement when Henry arrives back and of course prolongs the process. "I don't know that Mrs Horrocks quite means this, officer. What you said to me on the phone, young lady was ... " I said, "Henry. You weren't there." The policeman winks and says, "Now then, we don't want another shooting match do we?"
I mean at first Henry didn't even know who they were. He said, "Not the chow?" I said no That's the Broadbent's" Anyway he sits around a bit, whistling and under his breath, and goes upstairs and attacks his computer.
After the policeman had gone I went up and apologisea and ask Henry whether he thought anything had been going on. He said, "Why." I said, "well she didn't have anything on under that linen dress." Of course any suggestion of that embarrasses Henry, he's such an innocent. He said, " Rosemary, I did don't know what sort of world you think you're living in but there's probably some perfectly reasonable explanation. In the meantime let's just remember that somebody has died. I'm only sorry that you had to be the one who was passing, because I preferred you not have been involved."
I went out later to get some milk at the garage and there were still one or two reporters outside number 17, a whole branch of the magnolia broken off. One of them said, "Are you a neighbour? Did you know the McCorkindale's?" I shook my head and didn't anything so one of them shouts after me, "You owe it to the community." So I turned round and said, "Yes, and you owe it to the community not to break branches of people's magnolia trees." And of course that's just the point where the photographer takes a picture and it's in the paper this morning with me looking like a mad woman and the caption "The face of suburbia." Whereas the face of suburbia was Henry when he saw it.
I woke up in the night and I could hear him whistling under his breath. I said, "Are you thinking about Mrs McCorkindale?" He said, No, I was thinking about house prices. Prices are down as it is and something like this isn't going to help matters." He reached over from his bed and took my hand. "You must try not be upset, but if we don't get a 175 we shall have to kiss goodbye to Marbella."
I keep wondering if I ought to have told somebody about the handcuffs.
Sonnet on your Birth
When I sing my overture to you
Should I expect you'd ever really find
That when the cord was cut you'd journey to
The true, unending nature of your mind
When I watch you careless in your dreams
Should I prepare you for life's transient dance
Where ego and the dollar rule supreme
And myopic view is that of chance
When I see the devil first attack
Should I expect your innocence to wane
Whilst all around the light is turning black
And men in all their wickedness remain
If I am there to catch you when you fall
Should I expect your gratitude at all?
Jacqueline Dewey
Reading as a Writer
As a reader I have studied two short pieces from different genres; a modern sonnet from a little-known poet and a dramatic monologue by a leading writer, dramatist and diarist.
I would argue that Jacqueline Dewey‘s poem “Sonnet on your Birth” (HEAD 1996:60) is a first person traditional English sonnet written in rising iambic pentameter. The theme concerns unconditional love a parent feels towards their new-born child, the desire to help them reach their potential and the realisation that this involvement may not always be welcomed. This gives an insight into the poet’s identity as a caring, proud yet apprehensive new parent. The poem comprises three quatrains and a final couplet as the denouement and therefore has the requisite number of lines for the sonnet form.
The poem is written in abab, cdcd, efef, gg rhyming pattern and exact masculine rhymes, with the exception of ‘Dreams’ and ‘Supreme’ (lines 5 and 7); is this deliberate or accidental? The first line of each quatrain has nine syllables and comprises three iambic feet and anapest foot: deliberate or accidental? As the anapest is in different positions (‘my overture’ - line 1, ‘in your dreams’ – line 5, ‘devil first’ – line 9) I would suggest this is an error and not a literary decision. When compared to the sonnets of Shakespeare, and I use his examples as a benchmark, the Bard writes in strict iambic pentameter, while Dewey does not. However, I am certain she has based her poem on two of Shakespeare’s sonnets; sonnet fifteen and thirty-seven. This conclusion is based upon two assumptions; subject choice and anaphora starting each quatrain. While the subject matter may be coincidental the repetition of ‘When I’ is copied from Shakespeare’s sonnet fifteen (KERRIGAN 1995:84).
Although there is much to criticise in “Sonnet of your birth” there is also a little that is interesting. I particularly like the assonance “o” vowel in the third line “cord and journey” and “to, you, you and gratitude” in lines 13-14. I also like consonance of the “d” sound in “should, find and cord” (lines 2- 3). If the plagiarism of Shakespeare’s ‘when I’ is accepted as pastiche, we can applaud the anaphoric use of ‘should I” in lines 2, 6 10 and 14 as a clever device for retaining interest. Dewey tries to keep the piece interesting with implied metaphors, the first in the ninth line where she uses “devil first attack” for evil and the second two lines later when she says “light is turning black” instead of night; neither of which I find attractive. Much better is her use of metonymy in lines 3 and 5 where she implies birth by saying “the cord was cut” and a peaceful sleep with “careless in your dreams”. I find “where ego and the dollar rule supreme” a grating and ambiguous metaphor. “Dollar” could mean money, America or the Western World and each interpretation gives a different meaning to the work.
Although the sonnet is mainly written in general English without resorting to colloquialisms, Dewey uses three words, “overture, transient and myopic”, either in an attempt to demonstrate high English or her belief that they are an acceptable form of poetic diction. Whatever her reason, denotation and her understanding of these words differ. In the first line of the sonnet Dewey uses the phrase “sings my overture”, yet an overture is ‘a single orchestral movement’ (CONCISE OXFORD ENGLISH DICTIONARY 1999) and therefore not sung or maybe she means ‘an approach made with the aim of entering into a relationship’ (CONCISE OXFORD ENGLISH DICTIONARY 1999). If her intention is the latter, then her following lines make little sense. Likewise “our myopic view is of chance” implies her and her newborn can see no other way than leaving everything to luck. This is far from good parenting and contradicts the poem’s theme. More concerning is “life’s transient dance”. Does this mean the child only has a short-while to live? Furthermore, ‘to wane’ in line 10 and ‘wickedness remain’ in line 12 are both archaisms and add very little to the piece. I feel her vocabulary selection detracts from the theme and is neither convincing nor realistic and I consider it amateurish.
I reserve my biggest criticism for Dewey’s failed attempt at punctuation. The sonnet is unpunctuated and a ramble of merging ideas. The poet dispenses with comma and full-stop for end stop-lines. It is almost as if she’s never heard of the possibility of enjambment. For this reason above all others I, as a reading writer, find this poem very disappointing and demonstrating a lack of “writerly” decisions.
Alan Bennett’s ‘Nights in the Garden of Spain’ (BENNETT 1998:72 -p74) is a continuous monologue by Rosemary. She is the central intelligence whose perceptions shape the plot and determine the atmosphere. She is a reliable first person, participating yet innocent, narrator. She is often detached but never impartial or unemotional. She is very close to events yet able to provide an external perspective. The monologue has an element of dramatic irony and the reader often understand the situation before Rosemary does. She is naive and sometimes unaware of the full import of her words. The first example of innocence is where y-fronts are mentioned; ‘Henry’s the same, suddenly taken it into his head to go in for something a bit more dashing‘ (p72).
Bennett creates four rounded, dynamic characters who develop as the narrative progresses; Rosemary, Henry her husband, Mrs McCorquodale and, surprisingly, Mrs McCorquodale’s dead husband. All characterisations are made through Rosemary’s observation and perceptions. Examples include the small tattoo on the deceased stomach and the revelation that he obtained a gun in Malaysia. Henry’s character is that of a domineering and self centred husband; ‘I’d...ring Henry, but I couldn’t face the fuss’ and Henry’s statement to the police, ‘I don’t know that Mrs Horrocks means this, officer,” (page 73) finally his comment that the murder will negatively impact his house price (p74).
Bennett regularly releases snippets of Mrs McCorquodale’s character. When asked if her husband died of a heart attack she says ‘no, nothing like that. Just look at me. I’m in my bare feet’ (p72). The sudden, and matter of fact change of subject could either signify she’s suffering from shock or considers the death an inevitability. When asked if he’d hit his head the reply of ‘Oh no. I shot him’ leads me to believe the latter and thereby revealing a great deal more about both her and her husband’s character. As do the handcuffs on the draining board.
Rosemary’s identity is the most defined. Her use of juxtapositions, her chatty dialogue, her caring actions show her as a kindly, interesting, yet naive person. From the first exchange about the magnolia and her inability to continue the conversation we learn a great deal; she is shy, lonely and neither very clever nor worldly wise. Her choice to talk about magnolias (using the Latin name) and gardens shows the reader she is middle-aged and lives in suburbia (thereby confirming the initial stage directions). Bennett reveals her character through choice of language and revelation of her thoughts. She is caring and this is repeated throughout the text; interrupting her day when Mrs McCorquodale asks for assistance, helping out at the hospice and being angry when the journalist breaks the tree’s branch. She also has the ability to take everything in her stride without being judgemental: examples being; seeing the dead body, the widow having had a drink and not wearing underclothes, the handcuffs and her dealings with the police.
Bennett writes in a distinctive, humorous, matter-of-fact style. The diction, syntax, grammar, figurative speech and punctuation are ‘Bennettesqe”. Almost any sentence could be quoted as all are crafted with Bennett’s wit; ‘blondish woman, bit washed-out looking. Nice, tired sort of face’ (p72). It’s all written to be delivered like knocking on a kitchen door. Bennett’s sentences are all finely crafted without a wasted word. They are funny and often have an absurd juxtaposition of thought; Rosemary’s first sight of the dead body and her immediate concern was how to clean the rug. Or her first meeting with the policeman; ‘Big boy, nice ears, spelling all over the place’. The scene concludes with a climax. It is impossible to read the final paragraph and not want to continue; ‘Only there was a pair of handcuffs on the draining board.”
Having suggested that Dewey’s poem is very disappointing I have the opposite opinion of Bennett’s beautifully crafted and witty monologue. By reading these two pieces as a writer I have learnt to consider assonance, consonance, anaphora, metaphor, metonymy and the importance of correct meter and punctuation. Bennett’s monologue gives a master-class in the use of diction, syntax, grammar, figurative speech and dramatic irony. Most importantly, Bennett writes in Bennett’s voice and we should all applaud him for doing so. Every writer should use this example as a catalyst for finding their own distinctive voice.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
BENNETT A. (1998) Talking Heads 2. LONDON. BBC Publishing.
KERRIGAN J. Editor (1995 first published 1986)William Shakespeare - The sonnets and lover’s complaint. .LONDON. PENGUIN.
KENNEDY X.J. GIOIA D. BAUERLEIN M - Editors (2009). Handbook of Literary Terms. NEW YORK, PEARSON EDUCATION INC.
HEAD A. (1996) Growing up. PETERBOROUGH, POETRY NOW.
CONCISE OXFORD ENGLISH DICTIONARY (1999), OXFORD. OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS.
Word count: 1487 excluding title and bibliography.
