[639] One Art
Guest poem submitted by Pavithra Krishnan, <pavikaye@>:
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
-- Elizabeth Bishop
|
The concept of loss has long been favoured by the poets. In their turns
they have variously bemoaned the loss of beauty, youth, fame, life -- and
love. The poetry of loss is a genre unto itself. Immediately poignant by its
implications of tragedy. Freighted with an irrevocable absence. Often
shadowed by pain, sadness.
... yeah, I think loss works pretty darn well in verse. And I'm also
certain Elizabeth Bishop understood all this. Perhaps better than she might
have cared to. There is a courageous pretense built into this poem that I
like. Bishop is wry, funny and flippant and very determined not to sound
weepy-eyed. The fierce repetition of the line "the art of losing's not hard
to master" makes you wonder how far and fast she's had to lose. To me Bishop
is valiantly attempting to make believe for awhile that the experience of
loss may be impersonalised into perfection by practising it as an art (take
a breather). That she succeeds in convincing neither herself nor her reader,
hurts her verse not the least.
Pavithra.
From: Hita Adwanikar <hitamad@>
[Submitted as a guest poem; commentary follows -- ed.]
The last two poems [Poem #1084 and Poem #1085 -- ed.] brought this one
to my mind. The poem begins flippantly enough, talking about the loss of
things, even precious ones, but it quickly becomes apparent that one
never really gets used to it. The loss apparent in the last four lines,
coupled with the assertion that the "art of losing isnt too hard to
master", makes this one of the most poignant poems i have come across.
Hita
"Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken."
-from "On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer"
by John Keats
From: Hita Adwanikar <hitamad@>
[Submitted as a guest poem; commentary follows -- ed.]
The last two poems [Poem #1084 and Poem #1085 -- ed.] brought this one
to my mind. The poem begins flippantly enough, talking about the loss of
things, even precious ones, but it quickly becomes apparent that one
never really gets used to it. The loss apparent in the last four lines,
coupled with the assertion that the "art of losing isnt too hard to
master", makes this one of the most poignant poems i have come across.
Hita
"Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken."
-from "On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer"
by John Keats
From: Rick Molloy <rmolloy@>
Hi ,
Actually I think the art of losing is hard to master, and I find the poem
quite flipppant in it's dismissal of life and losing. As admirable as it
seems, I do not think I would so easily give up the material and spirititual
possessions that are advocated by the poem.
Do you really have an interest in this poem?
Interested in your comments,
Rick
From: Angel54586@
i don't understand the end of this poem! whom has this person lossed at the
end? is it a person or the joking voice? what does she mean by joking voice
anyway? why does it say "write it" in the middle of the sentence? I'm
confused!
From: T0zeebeach@
i think she's talking to the reader at the end of the poem
From: Ray Rasmussen <ray@>
I think that Bishop is saying that we grow beyond the little losses,
think that we have reached an anchored place, and then lose the one
important thing ... in this case a friend/lover? [his/her joking
voice, a gesture] ... and now she must make herself "WRITE IT" ...
because it is a disaster and the one path through it is to
write/express it.
Ray Rasmussen
--
----------------------
Ray Rasmussen
URL: http://raysweb.net
EMAIL: ray@
From: anonymous@
"villanelle", folks, "villanelle".
(Somebody has to say it.)
From: "Blazer" <shibby00@>
You've posted on http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/poems/639.html
that you didn't kno why anyone woul like this poem. To me this is one of
the best poems. when you read it, dont take it literally. its one of those
poems where you have to pay attention to the language she uses. she's very
ironic in saying "master loss." if you pay attention to the poem as it goes
on, you can gather that she is just about breaking down in the end. she's
in denial, denying that losing is no big deal, but towards the end of the
poem, she realizes that she's lost so much and that losing does really
affect her. this poem is saying loss affects everyone. Maybe that'll clear
it up a lil for ya, or it jus might be stupid that im writing you, a person
i dont even kno, about some poem they dont like. Take it as you may
From: John Wolfe <john-wolfe@>
Marilyn Hacker has a wise and beautiful response to this poem. This is from her
1990 collection, "Going Back to the River."
From Orient Point
The art of living isn’t hard to muster:
Enjoy the hour, not what it might portend.
When someone makes you promises, don’t trust her
unless they’re in the here and now, and just her
willing largesse free-handed to a friend.
The art of living isn’t hard to muster:
groom the old dog, her coat gets back its luster;
take brisk walks so you’re hungry at the end.
When someone makes you promises, don’t trust her
to know she can afford what they will cost her
to keep until they’re kept. Till then, pretend
the art of living isn’t hard to muster.
Cooking, eating and drinking are a cluster
of pleasures. Next time, don’t go round the bend
when someone makes you promises. Don’t trust her
past where you’d trust yourself, and don’t adjust her
words to mean more to you than she’d intend.
The art of living isn’t hard to muster.
You never had her, so you haven’t lost her
like spare house keys. Whatever she opens,
when someone makes you promises, don’t. Trust your
art; go on living: that’s not hard to muster.
From: Beth OMalley <bethann@>
The sarcastic tone, I believe, is Bishop's anger at herself
for being what she believes is adept at the art of loss. She loses things
(and lovers) too easily. Bishop claims that, ultimately, losing lovers is
a skill
at which she is highly masterful. I feel this poem is profoundly sad
and allows a very real glimpse into the grief (denial, anger, blame,
strange acceptance) of losing a love.
http://tigger.uic.edu/~bethann/
From: Michal Goldman <filmcoll@>
Thank you for this! Though I think Bishop's poem is more beautiful. I
loved it and memorized it and for as long as I said it every now and
then it was a good companion. Some poems - this is one of them - feel
good in the mouth, and you can tell it even before you read them aloud.
michal
From: Michal Goldman <filmcoll@>
Yes since it's the road map and the life line. Great grandchild of
Verlaine?
michal
From: Michal Goldman <filmcoll@>
YES!
WRTE IT! Those two little words are the big lesson, the tough task, and
the main hope. Thanks for saying it so well.
michal
From: "LLinda" <lindadsm@>
(Write it) - Elizabeth is forcing a moment. Take a breath, sit up and
face the feelings that you have buried deep. "It may look like"...
disaster...be reminded "may" . After the feelings have been forced,
maybe then you can accept "the art of losing"...and go on.
From: JesseAporta@
The point to this poem is that the art of losing is hard to deal with but
everyone is good at it. Its universal appeal is what makes this poem so
powerful. We have all lost someone...we all get pissed when we loose the little
mundane things like keys or a wallet or eyeglasses. Bishop tells us to let go.
Simple and Pure. Just let go!
From: "sky" <skykaly@>
This poem and poet share a common experience. Trying to remember where I
last left off in the middle of a sentence, stop write down what I ment
to say in the beginning when I was trying to remember what it was I was
trying to say. Yeah, I really embrase the poet and her poem.
Sky Kaly in NM, still here.
From: Kate.Bills@
I think the poem is saying: those who love always experience loss, but
this is no reason not to love - rather, to accept that in life you have to
deal with loss - and to accept this, means you can survive, and even start
living after your loss (and what better way to start the uphill struggle
than to build on the small, but well rehearsed experience of loss gained
in our daily lives)
Kate
Kate Bills
Northdoor plc
T: +44 (0) 20 7448 8505
F: +44 (0) 20 7448 8540
E: kate_bills@
W: www.northdoor.co.uk
From: Paul Mercken <pmercken@>
From: Paul Mercken <pmercken@>
From: "Shannon Daley" <Daley426@>
Think of this poem and especially the "art" of losing in connection to
the mastery of writing poetry. Bishop is stuggling to deal with the loss
of a lover or close friend (we can assume this from the final quatraine)
and she is dealing with this loss by showing her compentcty in writing
poetry and especially in tackling a villanelle (a difficult and strict
structure). "Write it!"- a command to herself to express her grief
through the art of poetry.
so what do you all think?
From: Guilherme Menezes <guilherme@>
From: SALMONDE1@ Sun Jan 15 17:36:24 2006
Have you ever lost someone you cared about? One day they were there and
the next they were just out of your life? Coping with it is impossible.
It could be a hard breakup or a death or just a falling out with a
friend or loved one. She's not just overlooking loss and saying its
easy - she's trying to hard for that if you really look closely. she
can't master it - that's why she had to tell herself "write it" about it
looking like disaster in the final line. That is how she feels. The
loss was a disaster, she's trying to pull herself through it, but she's
really quite miserable.
From: "Katya Ivanova" <Katya.Ivanova@>
Losing is a part of life and we should learn to deal with it. It is not a
disaster to lose your spare keys or move away from a place you love,
adopting this attitude helps us go through life - if you have a master
key, if there are many other wonderful places in the world left to explore
what is there to feel sorry for, but extending this approach to
relationships with people doesn’t work as well, as the poet tries to
convince herself (ironically)
From: "David Williamson" <davidmarkwilliamson@>
Salmonde1, I feel is the nearest to understanding Bishop’s words.
Bishop tries to convince herself that to lose someone close can be
disregarded in the same manner as mislaying ones keys. That one can lose all
material possessions and that it doesn’t really matter.
Well it doesn’t! But to lose someone close does matter. It is a disaster, a
tragedy and fills one full or regret.
Especially if the loss is due to being careless in that lost relationship.
Her self denial of the importance of the lost relationship evaporates in the
last line, when she suddenly realises...it is a disaster.
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From: "Margaret Shank" <minxs@>
I think this is one of the saddest poems I have ever read. The poet
puts on a brave face, but as the poem progresses you are aghast at how
much she (and by extension, we all) have lost (or will). "Write it!" is
placed precisely where it should be to prove that all loss, no matter
how minor, is symbolic of the terrible process of life, in which we all
have to lose every single thing, even existence itself: "like disaster."
Someone once wrote that to buy a pet is to buy a tragedy. Well, to
live is to live a tragedy as well. "Call no man happy until he is
dead."
From: "Margaret Shank" <minxs@>
P.S. I just Googled the poem and found that there are 17 drafts of this
poem in the Vassar library. Not until she tried out the word "Shan't"
was Bishop able to write the last stanza. The artifice (implying both
art and insincerity) of that word enabled her to write the sublime last
line. By the way, note that it's really "looks like (Write it!) like
disaster." I'd forgotten the emphasis given to that word by the writer,
although I always hit it when I speak the poem. And then the stuttering
repeat of "like": as someone commented, the poet's voice literally
breaks in these last words. Apparently it is an elegy for a lover who
committed suicide, after which she returned to the United States. See
"On 'One Art'" at
http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/a_f/bishop/oneart.htm
I put this poem right up there with Archibald MacLeish's "You, Andrew
Marvell" and the Andrew Marvell poem itself and the Shakespeare sonnet
that begins "They that have the power to hurt and will do none"... and a
few others... as ones I know by heart.
From: "Margaret Shank" <minxs@>
P.P.S. Evidently this listserv doesn't permit emphasis. Anyway,
"Write" is italicized.
From: "Margaret Shank" <minxs@>
P.P.P.S. Oh yeah, and Gerard Manley Hopkins's "Margaret, are you
grieving" and certain Japanese and Chinese poems I know by heart as
well. All about loss, the swift passage of time ("Time flies, you say?
Ah, no! Alas, Time stays - we go"), the fragility of life, the
impermanence of all things. Hmmm. But then there's "Does a dog have
Buddha nature? Mu!"
From: TSpencer@ Fri Feb 3 14:00:21 2006
I love the comments posted about the flippant tone of this poem. The
repetition of the line "The art of losing isn't hard to master" does
feel like a brave yet casual masquerade. Bishop's theme and tone reminds
me of the Dylan song, "Most of the Time."
Most of the time
I'm clear focused all around,
Most of the time
I can keep both feet on the ground,
I can follow the path, I can read the signs,
Stay right with it, when the road unwinds,
I can handle whatever I stumble upon,
I don't even notice she's gone,
Most of the time.
Most of the time
It's well understood,
Most of the time
I wouldn't change it if I could,
I can't make it all match up, I can hold my own,
I can deal with the situation right down to the bone,
I can survive, I can endure
And I don't even think about her
Most of the time.
Most of the time
My head is on straight,
Most of the time
I'm strong enough not to hate.
I don't build up illusion 'till it makes me sick,
I ain't afraid of confusion no matter how thick
I can smile in the face of mankind.
Don't even remember what her lips felt like on mine
Most of the time.
Most of the time
She ain't even in my mind,
I wouldn't know her if I saw her
She's that far behind.
Most of the time
I can't even be sure
If she was ever with me
Or if I was with her.
Most of the time
I'm halfway content,
Most of the time
I know exactly where I went,
I don't cheat on myself, I don't run and hide,
Hide from the feelings, that are buried inside,
I don't compromise and I don't pretend,
I don't even care if I ever see her again
Most of the time.
Thanks for this site! Gardensoul aka Tom Spencer
gardensoul@
From: Janet Levatin <jlevatin@>