[38] Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
In case you missed it, there was a theme this week, which was somewhat hard
to make explicit, but which should be clear in retrospect.
| Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night |
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
-- Dylan Thomas
|
While Thomas has written a number of extraordinarily beautiful and lyrical
poems, this is probably his best known, and certainly my favourite. It is
hard to believe that anyone could approach so timeworn a theme with such
breathtaking intensity and freshenss - in particular, the verse beginning
'wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight' is IMHO Thomas at the top
of his not inconsiderable form.
Another thing to note is that the villanelle (of which more later) is an
extraordinarily difficult and constraining form; the effortless ease with
which Thomas makes it appear to be the natural form for this poem is
incredible.
<Thomas>
Martin was kind enough to tell me in advance that he was running this,
my other favourite poem (the first, in case you don't remember, was
Coleridge's Kubla Khan - Minstrels Poem #30). And though I'll never
forgive him for pre-empting me :-) I can at least derive some small
consolation from being able to add my own comments.
Having said that, though, I must confess that I can think of no comments
that could possibly do justice to this magnificent poem. If ever a
writer approached perfection in lyrical and emotional intensity, this is
it. The rhetoric is never forced, always clear and ringing, and always
profoundly moving; the images are shimmeringly beautiful, yet terribly
true; the language is simple but potent; the metre and complicated rhyme
scheme simply add to the magic. All in all, sheer genius.
thomas.
</Thomas>
Background Info:
written May 1951.
published in 'In Country Sleep', 1952.
"Addressed to the poet's father as he approached blindness and death.
The relevant aspect of the relationship was Thomas's profound respect
for his father's uncompromising independence of mind, now tamed by
illness. In the face of strong emotion, the poet sets himself the task
of mastering it in the difficult form of the villanelle. Five tercets
are followed by a quatrain, with the first and last line of the stanza
repeated alternately as the last line of the subsequent stanzas and
gathered into a couplet at the end of the quatrain. And all this on only
two rhymes. Thomas further compounds his difficulty by having each line
contain 10 syllables".
from Dylan Thomas: Selected Poems
edited by Walford Davies,
JM Dent & Sons Ltd, London, 1974
pp 131-32
On Villanelles:
villanelle
rustic song in Italy, where the term originated (Italian villanella from
villano: "peasant"); the term was used in France to designate a short poem
of popular character favoured by poets in the late 16th century. Du
Bellay's "Vanneur de Blé" and Philippe Desportes' "Rozette" are examples
of this early type, unrestricted in form. Jean Passerat (died 1602) left
several villanelles, one so popular that it set the pattern for later
poets and, accidentally, imposed a rigorous and somewhat monotonous form:
seven-syllable lines using two rhymes, distributed in (normally) five
tercets and a final quatrain with line repetitions.
The villanelle was revived in the 19th century by Philoxène Boyer and J.
Boulmier. Leconte de Lisle and, later, Maurice Rollinat also wrote
villanelles. In England, the villanelle was cultivated by W.E. Henley,
Austin Dobson, Andrew Lang, and Edmund Gosse. Villanelles in English
include Henley's "A Dainty Thing's the Villanelle," which itself describes
the form, and Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night."
-- E.B.
And on a more amusing note:
The Art of the Villanelle
Attend this line, which you'll have heard
repeated in this villanelle
until you're sick of every word --
a repetition as absurd
as any babbled cries in hell.
Attend this line, which you'll have heard
re-echoed like a mocking bird,
returning like a carousel,
until you're sick of every word.
(And then the rhymes! Would not a third
with "ell" and "erd" have worked as well?)
Attend this line, which you'll have heard
until your vision's gotten blurred,
until your ears ring like a bell,
until you're sick of every word
each time the line is disinterred!
You'll whisper in a padded cell,
"Attend this line, which you'll have heard..."
until you're sick of every word.
-- Peter Schaeffer,
<http://homepages.packet.net/schaeff/dpress/artvil.html>
m.
From: "rjusufi" <rjusufi@>
i loved this poem. the words the tale is all fantastic.
From: "Vincent Lee" <vincentl-bc@>
My favourite poem
can you guys interpret it line by line?
thanks in advance
From: "Dave, Hash" <IMCEAEX-_O=LLOYDS+5FUDT_OU=LLOYDS+5FUDT+5FUK_CN=BOURNEMOUTH+20EXCHANGE+20CLIENTS_CN=PCHDA@>
I'm going to try and analyse this poem line for line:
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close
of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
My understanding of this is that Thomas may have actually accepted the
Christian concept of death as that 'good night', yet refers to it not no so
much in vai sarcasm as a dismissal - yes, death may be the 'good night' but
it does not mean acquiesence to its inevitability. He also links death to
the 'close of day', to 'the dying of the light' - so death is both a night
and a darkness as oppossed to the day and light of living - finally the use
of 'burn and rave' suggests a fever or delirium - immediately showing you
his father either in the grips of illness, but perhaps not 'raving' but
quiet.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had
forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night.
Wise men know at the end of their alloted time death is inevitable, yet for
all their wisdom (and wise words) they know that they cannot avoid - they do
not acquiesce - This in my humble opinion is the most tricky line of the
poem: "Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle
into that good night." - does this suggest their words would not lighten
their path into the dark of death? Or tongues and forked - suggesting that
somehow they lie to themselves in their wisdom that "dark is right" and that
this sheds no light, so they do not go gentle? Tis a difficult one.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have
danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Good men weeping over what furture deeds could have achieved, however frail
they may have been, again in a juxtapositioning of the dancing, light of a
green bay (the living) - they also struggle against dying
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they
grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night.
Wild men, full of life and song, catching the sun, the temporal, the
changing of the day (as if life is one long day from dawn to the dying
dusk), and yet realise the temporal nature of their actions too late, grieve
perhaps that this was their only focus as the dusk approached, they too
fight death
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze
like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Grave (serious) men, who only in death with now age/illness blinded eyes
realise that those eyes could have blazed with life and joy when they had
the time, if they had but enjoyed the joys of living more, now they too will
fight the dying as they realise too late, too late.
And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless me now with your
fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage
against the dying of the light.
And finally he asks his father - upon a 'sad height' evoking a painful
acknowledgement of his loneliness (where he goes Thomas cannot follow) and
also evoking an image almost of sacrifice - 'curse (and) bless me now' -
curse me for my having life still to live and bless me for that as well -
and finally he begs him to also fight the inevitable.
In summary it seems to me that too often much is made of Thomas anger/rage
at death - I believe he actually acknowledges its inevitability and purpose
in this poem - and yet he lists why all men, whether wise, good, carefree or
serious should struggle against death for the sake of it - this rings true
then with slightly mythic background behind this poem which has Thomas
composing it as he sees his father on his deathbed apparently giving up this
same final struggle.
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From: "Peter Collins" <good@>
Its more. Dylan was exceptional for one so young. His wisdom came so
freakishly early that it is small wonder he burned out so soon. He
could not articulate his certain vision of an unending God being pressed
by the strictures of his time. Admonishing his father to rage against
the dying of the light was the closest he came to telling not just his
father but all he sought to reach that there is no dying of the light.
Death is no more than changing a light bulb in the bigger picture. The
admonishment was directed at his father's narrowness of accepting death
as finality. The whole poem speaks to this issue and Dylan's anger of
his dad's seeming inability to welcome death as a new beginning. The
dying of the light is not about the dying of a human form but the dying
of a belief in God and the next certain life. It is against that that
his father should rage and his frustration of his dad's inability to do
so is the evocative kernel of the poem. Dylan is positively angry and
is probably taking his frustration out in the wrong quarter. But when
we read and learn from the poem that issue isn't important. Never a man
to suffer fools gladly he makes no exception with his father. When he
speaks of "wise men at their end know dark is right...." he is
disapproving. His poem is so obviously dialectical. "Rage against your
silly narrowness" is the message. The "light" doesn't die with you!
Try and take that onboard dad! While the words are a raging "against"
they are in reality a plea to rage "in favour" of acceptance of a
human carcass which, next time round, will be wiser. To go "gentle" to
death seems to me that Dylan is saying to his father that he is giving
up God's greater plan - something that Dylan never did. I don't know
who I'm writing to but I hope it reaches you.
Peter Collins (Botswana)
From: Laura Murdoch <murdochinusa@>
Dave Hash's interpretation of Dylan's dialogue with his father is
elegant.
However, his cool, Chapel certain, headmaster father was much more
accepting of both his blindness and his impending death, more certain
clothed in his Methodist faith than his raw and impassioned son.
Dylan's genius was devoured by his alcoholism. His concerns were far
more secular and his explorations far more concerned with the nature of
man, and woman. I spent my childhood listening to his regular radio
broadcasts in the UK, the ferocity of his conviction and emotion burst
every syllable apart. This was not a man transported by his qualities
of spirituality but by his absolute human qualities, for he was Green
and Golden famous amongst the barns as he described himself in Fernhill.
Laura Murdoch
Regards as ever,
Laura Murdoch
906 Dominion Drive
KATY TX 77450-2910
From: "Chellappa, Mallika (Mallika)" <mchellappa@>
I hardly think this poem shows any belief in the hereafter.
The whole purpose of not going gentle is that you
don't know where you're going, and this is your last chance
to make an impression on ..??
This is a beautiful poem, which says "live life to the hilt
and don't go quietly when death comes"
Mallika
From: "Staci" <zonedout007@>
can you guys interpret it line by line?
thanks in advance
From: ATarsh2@
Hi there,
I always liked the dylan thomas poem "do not go gentle into that good night"
and last night, with time on my hands, i looked online for interpretations of
this poem and came across your very insightful interpretation of it on
www.cs.rice.edu
I am a religious Jew and now know why this poem touched me to the core. it's
concepts are very Jewish regarding one's life, legacy and the continuation of
one's journey into "the next world". Thank you for so clearly putting into
words what it was that makes that poem ring true to me -- it's like looking
through an everlasting "keyhole" that goes on and on.
best wishes for a good year!!!
sincerely,
amy
From: "John Frondorf" <jfrondorf@>
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My own father just died, two days ago, after a month of illness.
Complication piled on top of complication; already frail and 85, he had
no
chance. But he did not go gentle: at first he argued, wheedled, yelled
and
cursed, and as he came undone, he raged, and in the end, he was quite
incoherent. Dylan Thomas never meant much to me until now. I do not
see a
large religious component regarding an afterlife in his poem. I take
it,
rather, that he was saying, no matter who you are, this is all you have
-
certainly all that we can be sure we have - and that you should not let
it
go easily. Unexpectedly, this poem helps me accept the way he met
death.
John Frondorf
BECKER & FRONDORF
215-772-1400 x11
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<DIV><FONT face"Georgia size"2><SPAN class"030055119-25082004>My
own father just
died, two days ago, after a month of illness. Complication
piled on
top of complication; already frail and 85, he had no chance.
But he
did not go gentle: at first he argued, wheedled, yelled and
cursed, and as
he came undone, he raged, and in the end, he was quite incoherent.
Dylan
Thomas never meant much to me until now. I do not see a large
religious
component regarding an afterlife in his poem. I take it,
rather, that he was saying, no matter who you are, this is all you
have -
certainly all that we can be sure we have - and that you should not let
it go
easily. Unexpectedly, this poem helps me accept the way he met
death.</SPAN></FONT></DIV>
<P align"left><FONT face"Arial size"2>John Frondorf<BR>BECKER
&
FRONDORF<BR>215-772-1400 x11</FONT></P></BODY></HTML>
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From: "Celine" <celineandcats@>
Always loved this poem. Really glad you guys included it in the archives
love Celine
From: "David Jenkins (private)" <david@>
I love this poem. It has so many complicated messages and can be interpreted
in so many ways. This is what makes it so enjoyable.
If you read it all together I think it is about making a difference to the
world you have lived in
"Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night"
I interpret this to mean that if you have not made a difference (their words
had forked no lightning) then it is too late to regret this at the end of
your life.
I would love to know how Dylan Thomas wrote it. Did he sit for ages
deliberating on each word or did it just flow like speech. I think the
latter.
If you listen to Dylan reading this himself (
http://www.poets.org/poems/poems.cfm?prmID=1159 ) it sounds sad rather than
the feeling of anger that I get reading the written poem.
From: "Amend, Edward" <EAmend@>
The Pieta of Poems. Only Shelley's Adonais is more beautiful. I can think
of no poem that deals with the passing of a loved one with such depth of
feeling and such an integral oppositional defiance towards "the dying of the
light." In a word: "Priceless" but who would expect any less from legend?
Edward Amend
Word Processing Department
Brown Raysman Millstein Felder & Steiner LLP
900 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022
Tel: 212-895-2477
Fax: 212-895-2900
<mailto:eamend@> eamend@brownraysman.com
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From: "Paul & Win Grace" <pgrace@>
Such a wonderful thought. Too bad Thomas left out half the world's
population. And would that this were just a matter of semantics and not
reality. But the truth is that that half is powerless and the
selfishness and shortsightedness of the male half of the population has
truly brought the world to its knees today. And so I will continue to
Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light!
Win Grace
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From: HaparrKye@
As someone who cares for those at the time of death this poem screams out
the way I would wish NOT to die. There is no peace, no acceptance and no grace.
IQ
I'm out of my mind,
but feel free to leave a message.