Here we shall approach another one of my own old sonnets (as usual, a much easier task than criticizing another's work, and almost as useful for the demonstration of good practice) with a sonnet on a different theme, in face the most common and as far as we can tell first sonnet theme: love. This does not have a title, except I suppose for the first line:
Were th'ethereal made solid, flesh sublim'd,
This jaunty verse reset as sullen prose,
And leadfoot prose made meter, quickly rhym'd,
The granite rocks come blooming like the rose,
The growing tree converted into stone,
Bread stay'd unrisen, meats made to expand,
While pencils take pen's inkings for their own,
Replacing them with graphite near at hand,
Should towers fall and tunnels rise to height
While pigs ascend and eagles tread the ground,
Be beacons dark while shadows are alight
And deaths be lost as lives become newfound,
Though all these changes come, one must remain:
My love's already sunny in the rain.
Mistakes Were Made:
I think it's pretty clear here that the diction is one of the largest problems with this sonnet. Intentional archaisms like "rhym'd" for "rhymed" and "sublim'd" for "sublimed," which do not in fact change the pronunciation of the words in question, is acceptable if a little silly. Attempting, as in the first line here, to axe out an entire syllable for metrical purposes via archaism ("th'ethereal") is simply too much. If we swallow that choice, the line is actually not that bad, I think, but that's like saying that if we ignore the radioactivity, late 1980s Chernobyl was a lovely vacation spot. Describing the verse as "jaunty" (line 2) is an attempt to face down this absurdity directly, but a failure is a failure no matter how it is massaged. "Leadfoot" in line 3 is also a gaudy neologism, whose greatest virtue may be that horror over it might stun the mind for the upcoming travesty of an inserted syllable in line 4: what on earth could it mean for something, rocks or otherwise, to "come blooming like the rose"? Say "bloom like a rose" and get the extra two syllables somewhere else. "Graphite near at hand" is an awfully stretched-for rhyme for "expand." These are the larger issues, next to which things like eagles that actually do tread the ground or the slight awkwardness of "pencils take pen's [sic; should be pens'] inkings for their own" pale in comparison. The conceit here may be acceptable, but it is certainly set in a manner that gives it few advantages and many demerits. It seems unable to decide if it is really supposed to be imagined as arising from a lost sixteenth-century text or if it is modern. On top of all of that, the final line is rushed; it takes an awful stretch to realize "my love's already sunny in the rain" is not only "love is already sunny" but also intended as a contrast with all the new topsy-turvydom above as an oxymoronic constant topsy-turvydom of its own. As I say, it is rushed, and ends up stretching for what should be an easy transition.
Not Too Shabby:
Well, it might be easy, based on the above, to simply toss this poem in the garbage can in the stereotypical way of writers on TV shows, crumpling up the paper into a little ball so that it flies more easily. But I actually like this poem, for two primary reasons. One, I think the conceit is actually fine; the idea, that even if everything else in the world is suddenly turned on its head, this love is so absurd and so contrary to expectation (and, in a sense, also so all-encompassing) that despite the change it would remain as it is, is I think a good one, and I think the examples express it well (except for their own internal diction issues). Two, I think that the poem flows well. Individual words sadly cause hiccups, and there is an overall failing of word choice and appropriateness, but for all of that the verse sweeps on its merry way; the end-stopped lines and English rhyme scheme allow each example to slot in naturally, and the balanced antithesis inside the lines with paired examples (and between the lines of paired longer examples) emphasizes this virtue. The word lengths and emphases are well-balanced; unlike the final line, none of the individual examples themselves are rushed in or seem neglected (or overemphasized). It might be hard to revamp the diction while retaining that effect, and the effect may heighten the disappointment of the rushed final payoff, but the current poem is one in which the examples successfully build precisely because of their use of the formal structure as a scaffold with which to ascend to greater and greater heights. The poem never falls flat or seems haphazardly constructed in regard to its larger conceit, only as regards the smaller building blocks, the individual words, and that particular dance is an interesting one to see accomplished, or at least attempted (if you disagree with my weighing of the two components relative importance). I see this as a poem that succeeds despite of, rather than because of, the individual words that make it up.
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