Literary Studies Revision Flashcards

Edward: Analysis of Development and Class Influence

Edward’s character development throughout the play is marked by the immense opportunities afforded to him by his social class, which simultaneously isolates him from the reality of Mickey's life. In his childhood, Edward is depicted as isolated, emphasized by the stage direction "Edward remains on stage, in the background," showing his desire to be part of the other children’s games and his foundational loneliness. His early naivety mirrors the first meeting with Mickey, appearing when he says, "I can go and get you some," regarding sweets. This naivety persists into his teenage years, where his language is juxtaposed with Mickey’s to reflect the diverging educational paths available to them. While Edward is described as "bright and forthcoming" and discusses "Oxbridge," he remains immature, evidenced by the repetitive refrain "Tits, Tits, Tits," which contrasts with the burdens of Mickey’s adolescence.

In adulthood, the difference in class becomes a tragic chasm. Edward’s suggestion that Mickey should "Live like a bohemian" employs a simile that highlights his total obliviousness to the economic struggles Mickey endures. Edward’s proposal to Linda, where he is "down on one knee and kissing her hand," demonstrates a romantic and chivalrous nature that contrasts with Mickey's more strained relationship prospects. However, Edward’s character is also marked by betrayal; he lies to Mickey about his feelings for Linda, showing disloyalty even as they are "just friends." The suddenness of their kiss, marked by the adverb and specific stage directions, serves as the catalyst for the final tragedy. Ultimately, the verb "blows" in the stage direction regarding their deaths makes the conclusion of Edward and Mickey's lives shocking and cyclical.

Linda: Loyalty, Leadership, and the Feminine Experience

Linda is initially established as a fearless and outspoken figure among the children. During their childhood, she is described as a "natural leader" who is "not stupid" and quite "suspicious." Her bravery is highlighted when she protects Mickey, with stage directions noting that she "moves in to protect Mickey," suggesting a maternal role early on. She uses imperative and exclamatory sentences such as "Leave him alone!" to flip traditional gender roles. As a child, she is a "bad influence" who suggests throwing stones at windows, yet she remains loyal, with the text stating "Mickey and Linda are in one gang."

As Linda enters her teenage years, her feelings for Mickey become more pronounced. She is presented as honest, using the exclamatory sentence "I just love you, I love you!" to emphasize her emotions. However, her transition to adulthood is characterized by weariness and entrapment. The metaphor "there's a girl inside the woman" suggests she longs for the freedom of her childhood. She becomes a "damsel in distress" figure, moving from a position of strength to one where she holds out "her helpless arms." Her adulthood is marred by guilt and manipulation; when Mickey is in prison, she asks the manipulative question, "He's lovely lookin', isn't he?" in reference to Edward. Her refusal to admit she knows "Eddie Lyons" when she screams his name suggests she is hiding the affair. Ultimately, Linda is "caught in the middle" of the two brothers, a position emphasized by the freeze-frame that foreshadows the future tragedy.

Mrs. Johnstone and Mrs. Lyons: Maternity, Class, and Superstition

Mrs. Johnstone is presented as a physically affectionate and maternal figure, often seen "cradling him, letting him cry." Her life is defined by the tragedy of her husband "walking out" and the constant pressure of debt. This is illustrated by the stage direction showing her "clutching a letter" in excitement, only to be followed by creditors "leaving with goods." Poverty dictates her choices, leading to the desperate moment where she "agrees to give one of you away." Her character is deeply superstitious, responding with shock to "shoes on the table," a motif used to highlight the difference between her and the wealthy Mrs. Lyons. As the play progresses, her empathy is shown through song, such as "It's just a light romance," where she understands Linda’s affair.

Mrs. Lyons, by contrast, is characterized by paranoia and agitation. She uses emotive language to blackmail Mrs. Johnstone, claiming she is "being threatened by the welfare people" to force her to give up the baby. Her descent into madness is signaled by her growing belief in the very superstitions she once dismissed; she eventually "reaches for the Bible" and "sweeps the shoes off the table." In Act 22, her madness is physically manifested as she carries a "lethal looking kitchen knife." She attempts to blame Mrs. Johnstone for the entire situation, using the pronoun "you" in "You gave your baby away." Her failure to find happiness in motherhood is captured in the song "Mad woman, Mad woman," which suggests her dreams have completely fallen apart.

Mickey’s life follows a tragic arc from childhood innocence to adult despair. As a child, he is carrying a "toy gun," which serves as heavy foreshadowing of his fate. He is sociable yet insecure, wishing he was more like his brother Sammy. His childhood is defined by colloquialisms like "Gis a sweet" and the symbolic bond of becoming "blood brothers." In his teenage years, Mickey’s insecurity regarding his appearance—"I've got pimples an' me feet are too big"—prevents him from acting on his feelings for Linda. Unlike Edward, Mickey has the burden of "overtime" and lacks the academic confidence seen when he "looks about for help" in school.

In adulthood, Mickey’s mental state deteriorates rapidly after a shooting incident, with the repetition "You shot him. You shot him" emphasizing his breaking point. His desperation for work is highlighted through the antithesis in his statement that he would crawl back to a job for "half the pay and double the hours." This depression leads to a drug addiction, where he uses imperatives like "Give them to me" for his pills. The play ends with Mickey’s tragic realization of his lost potential, screaming "I COULD have been him!" The final stage directions show him standing apart and isolated, reflecting the loneliness that defined his adult struggle against a class system that provided him no escape.

Prayer Before Birth by Louis MacNeice

"Prayer Before Birth" is a dramatic monologue written in the form of a prayer in free verse, serving as a plea from an unborn child to a divine power. Written during the Second World War (193919451939-1945), the poem reflects Louis MacNeice’s skepticism of political groups and the horrors of contemporary conflict. The child prays for strength to avoid becoming a "cog in a machine," a metaphor representing an army or the "lethal automaton" of war. MacNeice uses anaphora, repeating "I am not yet born" to create a rhythmic, ritualistic tone. The imagery shifts between the supernatural—"bloodsucking bat"—and the natural, where the child asks for "grass," "trees," and "sky" to provide guidance.

Ultimately, the poem presents humanity as a manipulative, faceless authority. The theatrical imagery of "parts I must play" suggests a loss of individuality, while religious allusions to the Book of Revelations and "the man who… thinks he is God" (possibly referencing Hitler) highlight the potential for human corruption. The poem concludes with a stark choice: if the world will turn the child into a "stone" or "spill" them, the speaker begs, "Otherwise kill me."

Piano by D. H. Lawrence

"Piano" by D. H. Lawrence explores the overwhelming power of nostalgia as a man listens to a woman singing, which transports him back to his childhood. Composed of three quatrains with rhyming couplets, the poem’s unusually long lines suggest memories that cannot be contained. Lawrence utilize onomatopoeia, such as "the boom of the tingling strings," to create a sensory bridge between the past and present. The imagery is initially positive and maternal, describing the "small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings," reflecting Lawrence's own strong relationship with his refined mother.

However, a tonal shift occurs with the mention of the "insidious mastery of song," revealing the speaker’s resentment that he is being "betrayed" back to the past. The juxtaposition of "clamour" and "glamour" highlights the discord between the unsettling present and the comforting past. The poem ends on a somber note with the metaphor "my manhood is cast / Down in the flood of remembrance" and the simile "I weep like a child for the past," emphasizing that feelings and memories have completely overcome rational, adult thought.

Docker by Seamus Heaney

Seamus Heaney’s "Docker" describes a quiet, intimidating man whose identity is entirely defined by his occupation and his bigoted religious views. Set against the backdrop of Northern Irish religious conflict in the 1960s1960s, the poem utilizes shipbuilding imagery to describe the man’s physical presence, such as "The cap juts like a gantry’s crossbeam" and his "sledgehead jaw." This industrial language suggests that his labor has hardened his exterior and his personality. His hatred of Catholics is stated bluntly: "That fist would drop a hammer on a Catholic," followed by a pause for emphasis.

Structurally, the poem is written in four quatrains, each focusing on a different aspect of the man: his appearance, his hatred, his religious rigidity, and his home life. Heaney uses religious metaphors to depict the man’s faith as equally industrial, where "God is a foreman" and the "Resurrection" is announced by a "factory horn." The man’s life is cyclical and routine, returning to the image of him sitting alone. Even his family is intimidated by him, remaining quiet at the sound of a "slammed door," suggesting a household governed by silence and repression.

Genetics by Sinéad Morrissey

"Genetics" is a variation of a villanelle, a 1919-line poem that explores how biological heritage links children to their parents, even after separation. Sinéad Morrissey, whose own parents lived in "separate hemispheres," uses the repetition of the words "palms" and "hands" at the end of lines to weave together the theme of family union. The speaker asserts a sense of ownership over her identity with the line "My father’s in my fingers, but my mother’s in my palms," viewing her body as a living "marriage register."

The poem uses simplistic but profound imagery, such as "shaping a chapel" with one's hands, to show how childhood actions carry into adulthood. The final quatrain addresses the speaker's husband, suggesting an instinctive human demand for "mirroring in bodies of the future." The cyclical structure of the villanelle mirrors the cyclical nature of life, concluding with the shared realization that "We know our parents make us by our hands," reinforcing the idea that identity transcends the boundaries of time and geography.

Efface by Paul Maddern

Paul Maddern’s "Efface" is a sonnet that reflects on unrequited love or perhaps a lost career in ballet, contrasting a romanticized past with a mundane present. The title carries a double meaning: to erase a memory and a ballet term for a shaded position. The speaker expresses dissatisfaction with his current life—a "sterile A4 annual report"—comparing it to the "2.42.4" (symbolizing a diamond or marriage) he might have had. The use of ballet terms like "developpés" and "ports de bras" adds a delicate, seductive element to the memory of the woman, whom he calls "my Odette," referencing the protagonist of Swan Lake.

The poem follows a rhyme scheme (AABBAAABBA CDEFACDEFA GBGBGBGB) where rhymes from the first stanza intrude upon later ones, mimicking how memories invade the speaker's mind. There is a tonal shift in the second stanza where the speaker becomes insistent, using consonance to proclaim "I want to know." He expresses dismay that the woman he admired has chosen "suburban courts" and ends the poem on a bitter note, telling her to "forget / this mincing prince," acknowledging the disappointment of what could have been.

I Remember, I Remember by Philip Larkin

Philip Larkin’s "I Remember, I Remember" is a gloomy, realistic dramatic monologue set during a train journey. Larkin ironically alludes to a Thomas Hood poem of the same name to subvert the expectation of positive childhood memories. The speaker recognizes the station where he grew up but reflects on his past with a sense of emptiness, calling it the place where his "childhood was unspent." He mocks traditional tropes of childhood imagination, stating he did not invent "theologies of flowers and fruits."

The poem employs a conversational style and negative word choices, such as describing his family as "depressed." The teenage years are dismissed with a repetition of "boys all biceps and the girls all chest," painting his peers as superficial. Larking uses a semantic field of religion—"Hell," "judging," "father"—to condemn his hometown. The final line, "Nothing, like something, happens anywhere," summarizes his nihilistic view that his upbringing was generic and unimportant, possessing no special value to his identity.

Catrin by Gillian Clarke

"Catrin" explores the intense and often conflicting bond between mother and daughter. The poem is divided into two stanzas representing two confrontations: the physical labor of birth and a later teenage power struggle. Clarke uses the metaphor of a "tight / Red rope of love" to describe the umbilical cord, symbolizing both the passion of love and the struggle for separation. The labor ward is described as a "hot, white / Room," creating a stifling atmosphere emphasized by fricative alliteration in "first / Fierce confrontation."

In the second stanza, years have passed, and the daughter, characterized by her "straight, strong, long / Brown hair," seeks independence. The "old rope" of conflict returns, binding them together even as it creates tension. Clarke uses the oxymoron "trailing love and conflict" to describe the complexity of the relationship. The daughter’s request to "skate / In the dark" serves as a metaphor for her desire to enter the unknown dangers of adulthood, leaving the mother torn between providing independence and maintaining their connection.

Belfast Confetti by Ciaran Carson

"Belfast Confetti" is a free-verse poem about the psychological and linguistic chaos caused by a bomb during the Northern Irish Troubles (196819981968-1998). The title is a euphemism for falling debris, contrasting the joy of celebration with the violence of conflict. The speaker uses punctuation as a metaphor for trauma: it was "raining exclamation marks," and the streets are "blocked with stops and colons." This suggests that when physical violence occurs, normalized language and communication break down entirely.

The poem’s long, stretched lines and spilled-over stanzas mimic the confusion of a riot. The speaker lists the contents of the bomb—"Nails, bolts, nails, car-keys"—items of domesticity turned into weapons. The streets are named after Crimean War battles—"Balaclava," "Inkerman," "Odessa Street"—linking the local riot to a larger history of warfare. The poem ends with a sense of isolation and powerlessness, as the speaker is hit with a "fusillade of question marks," unable to even state his own name in the face of the riot squad’s professional equipment.

In Mrs Tilscher's Class by Carol Ann Duffy

Carol Ann Duffy’s narrative poem examines the transition from childhood innocence to the destabilizing world of adolescence. The setting of the classroom is initially a magical, safe haven where the teacher "chanted the scenery" and the bell had a "laugh." This safety is contrasted with the outside world, specifically the "smudge" of the Moors Murderers, Ian Brady and Myra Hindley, whose crimes against children haunt the background of the 1960s1960s setting.

As the children grow, the imagery becomes more mature. Tadpoles change from "commas into exclamation marks," representing physical maturation. The sensory language—the scent of a pencil, the "inky tadpoles"—shifts to harsher verbs like "kicked" and "appalled" as the speaker learns unpleasant truths. The poem concludes with pathetic fallacy: a "heavy, sexy sky" and a "thunderstorm" represent the electrical energy and potential danger of sexual awakening. Mrs Tilscher eventually "turned away," signifying the end of the teacher-pupil bond and the inevitable departure from the safety of childhood.

Kid by Simon Armitage

"Kid" is a dramatic monologue spoken by Robin, Batman’s former sidekick, who is asserting his independence. Written in a single stanza of 2424 lines with a constant feminine rhyme on "-er," the poem mimics the Batman theme tune while mocking it. Robin uses sarcastic tones toward "Batman, big shot," revealing the secrets of his mentor to "blow the cover." He exposes Batman's flaws, such as taking a woman "downtown on expenses in the motor."

Armitage uses puns, such as the "boy wonder" nickname, to track Robin’s growth from a "ball boy" to someone "taller, harder, stronger, older." The contrast between his old superhero "forest-green number" and his new "jeans and crew-neck jumper" signifies a move towards a grounded, independent identity. The poem ends triumphantly with Robin punching "the palm of your hand all winter," an image of Batman's pathetic loneliness without him, as Robin declares himself the "real boy wonder."

Here by R. S. Thomas

In "Here," an older man reflects on a past decision that has left him stuck and regretful in the present. The poem is structured in seven tercets, a number considered holy in Christian denominations, which may link to the theory that the voice is that of Jesus on the cross. The speaker uses a pleading tone, asking "Does no God hear when I pray?" and claiming he was "misled" down a path he did not intend. This suggests a deep sense of frustration and desertion.

The speaker uses symbolism to reflect on his heritage, seeing the "footprints that led up to me." He claims to be "free of the stain" of sexual sin ("contracted in so many loins") but remains deeply unhappy. The metaphor "The clock of my whole being is slow" indicates that he is nearing the end of his life and cannot start over. The poem concludes with a resigned tone, as he accepts that he "must stay here with my hurt," emphasizing the permanence of the consequences of one's choices.

Sonnet 29 by William Shakespeare

Shakespeare’s "Sonnet 29" explores how love can serve as a spiritual and emotional cure for self-pity and low status. The first eight lines (the octet) are filled with melancholy and isolation, as the speaker describes himself as an "outcast" who "beweeps" his state, feeling that even "deaf heaven" does not hear his cries. He experiences intense jealousy, desiring the "art" and "scope" of more successful men, and finds that the things he usually enjoys bring him the least contentment.

The poem features a significant "turn" or volta at line 99 with the word "Yet." Thinking of his love interest causes his mood to shift from "sullen earth" to the "lark at break of day arising." The use of the pun "Haply" (meaning both by chance and happily) emphasizes the joy his love brings him. The final rhyming couplet declares that he would "scorn to change my place with kings," as the wealth of his love provides more self-worth than any royal status could offer.

Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold

"Dover Beach" is an elegy that laments the decline of religious faith in the face of the Industrial Revolution and scientific progress in the mid-19th19th century. The poem begins with an idyllic natural scene of the tranquil cliffs of Dover, but the atmosphere quickly turns. Arnold uses personification and harsh diction—"grating roar"—to describe the sea, which serves as a metaphor for the "Sea of Faith" that was once "full" but is now retreating.

The speaker addresses his wife, Frances Lucy Wightman, suggesting that in a world devoid of "joy," "love," or "light," their personal connection is the only thing that remains meaningful. The poem’s imagery is violent and chaotic, comparing the struggle of modern existence through the metaphor of "ignorant armies clash by night." Arnold emphasizes that without faith, humanity is left in a turbulent and animalistic state, where the "ebb and flow of human misery" is the only constant.

Invictus by William Ernest Henley

"Invictus," which is Latin for "unconquerable," is an uplifting lyric poem about maintaining strength and resilience in the face of extreme physical and emotional hardship. William Ernest Henley wrote the poem in 18751875 following the amputation of his leg due to tubercular arthritis. The poem’s regular ABABABAB rhyme scheme across four quatrains creates a defiant and confident tone. Henley uses satanic imagery—"Black as the pit from pole to pole"—to describe the darkness of his situation, only to counter it with the declaration of his "unconquerable soul."

The poem acknowledges the "bludgeonings of chance," personifying hardship as a physical force that has left the speaker "bloody but unbowed." It moves toward a triumphant conclusion with the anaphora of "I am the master of my fate; / I am the captain of my soul." This emphasis on autonomy and leadership shows that the human spirit is capable of withstanding any pain, a message that later gave hope to Nelson Mandela during his imprisonment in Robben prison.

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Robert Frost’s "The Road Not Taken" utilizes the extended metaphor of two diverging paths in a "yellow wood" to examine the life-altering power of choices. Inspired by his friend Edward Thomas, who often regretted his decisions, the speaker contemplates two roads that appear "worn… really about the same." The choice of the "road less travelled by" is presented as the moment that "has made all the difference" in the speaker’s life, suggesting that identity is forged by the paths we take and those we leave behind.

The poem’s structure, consisting of four stanzas with an ABAABABAAB rhyme scheme, reflects the speaker’s measured and contemplative thinking. While the path taken is the focus, the title refers to the road not taken, highlighting a sense of loss and the impossibility of returning to explore other options. The change to future tense in the final stanza—"I shall be telling this with a sigh"—projects a sense of inevitable regret, suggesting that humans are destined to ponder the "what ifs" of the decisions they make.