The Illiterate


The Illiterate

Touching your goodness, I am like a man
Who turns a letter over in his hand
And you might think that this was because the hand
Was unfamiliar but, truth is, the man
Has never had a letter from anyone;
And now he is both afraid of what it means
And ashamed because he has no other means
To find out what it says than to ask someone.

His uncle could have left the farm to him,
Or his parents died before he sent them word,
Or the dark girl changed and want him for beloved.
Afraid and letter-proud, he keeps it with him.
What would you call his feeling for the words
that keep him rich and orphaned and beloved?


5 responses to “The Illiterate”

  1. When you mentioned a poem by Meredith, I was thinking of George Meredith (Chapter XIV of Volume XIII of the Cambridge History of English and American Literature has a bit to say about him). I am inconstant in my admiration of his poetry, and know nothing of his prose. I do know, though, that his first wife left him to marry Henry Wallis, a member of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood (Swinburne’s set), whose most well-known work was “The Death of Chatterton,” for which Meredith was the model.

  2. Funny you should mention the leaving wife. I’d heard of George Meredith because of Modern Love. The extent of my knowledge of William Meredith is The Illiterate.

  3. Anyway, I’m really impressed by what Meredith gets away with here in the end-rhymes. They’re basically straight-up word repetitions (anyone/someone is barely an exception), yet it sounds perfectly natural. This is especially impressive given that man/mean/hand are near rhymes.

    There seem to be 3 main ways he’s accomplishing this. One that’s used throughout it is varying the rythm. The meter is iambic pentameter, but most lines have eleven syllables. Meredith substitutes one non-iamb in almost every line. So for instance I scan this (ignoring the rests) as of now as
    /- -/ -/ -/ -/
    -/ -/ -/ -/ -/
    -/ -/ -/ – -/ -/
    -/ -/ -/ -/ -/
    -/ -/ -/ – -/ -/
    -/ – -/ -/ -/ -/
    – -/ -/ -/ -/ -/
    -/ -/ -/ – -/ -/

    -/ -/ -/ -/ -/
    – -/ -/ -/ -/ -/
    – -/ -/ -/ -/ -/
    -/ -/ -/ -/ -//
    /- -/ -/ -/ -/
    -/ -/ -/ -/ -/

    which you can see is overwhelming iambic, yet never becomes sing-songy.

    This, of course, has a lot to do with where the pauses fall. The second big trick that lets Meredith get way with such an apparently uninspired rhyme-scheme, is the enjambed octet. Most of the lines in the octet are run-ons and several phrases stop in-line (the “that is” is a real strong example).

    In the sextet, the rhyme on “word” is corrupted with an “s”, and the stress that would fall on the second “him” is mitigated by “with”. “Beloved” is the only strong and clear end-rhyme, which is fitting.

  4. If there is one thing that I stumble over in this poem, it is not the non-rhyme rhymes but the use of homonyms. It borders on the zeugmatic, to perpetuate our neologism. hand in line 2 is the digit bearer, in line 3 it’s the look of the letters. Means in line 6 means means but, in line 7, it means what you do to get to ends. In line 2 of the second stanza, word is notification (of what?) but its “rhyme,” words in line 5 is what is written in someone’s hand. beloved is first a noun and, in the final line, a verbal adjective.

    Are these shifts just the normal vaguaries of word meaning or am I right that they are deliberate departures. To me it seems like Merideth is trying to rhyme with semantics, with the meaning of the words, rather than with phonetics, the sound of the words.

  5. You’re going to have to expand on this “rhyme with sematics” conclusion because I’m not sure what you mean, and I have no other means that to ask. I mean, means rhymes with means whether it means means or means.

    Excellent point about the homonyms, though. I feel sort of silly having made note of formalities of the rhymes while ignoring the meanings of the words and their use. I’m not sure whether you were mentioning this as part of why the rhymes sound less repetitive than they look, but it’s definitely part of it. If you hear something as a word, then you don’t hear it simply as a sound. I hadn’t appreciated how that’s being manipulated here. Nice.