Indeed, Losing Is Easy, But I Still Hate It    Scott

Elizabeth Bishop's "One Art" in Hirsch, How to Read a Poem, p. 32

Bishop, Elizabeth (1911-1979), American poet, best known for her poems that examine the physical world in minute detail. Born in Worcester, Massachusetts, Bishop grew up in New England and in Nova Scotia. She was educated at Vassar College, where she founded a literary magazine with Mary McCarthy, who would become a novelist. Bishop's first book, North & South, was published in 1946; it was later expanded and reprinted as North & South-A Cold Spring (1955). For this revised edition she received the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1956. Bishop traveled extensively throughout her life and at various times lived in New York City, Florida, Mexico, and Brazil. She also taught at Harvard University from 1970 to 1977. She was influenced and admired by the American poets Marianne Moore and Robert Lowell. Bishop's Complete Poems (1969) won the National Book Award in 1970. Commonplace objects and occurrences had unusual symbolic meanings for Bishop, and many of her poems take the form of meditations on external objects and events. Her linguistic precision and focus on the external world notwithstanding, Bishop's work carries strong emotions. Travel is a major theme in her verse, and in many of her poems, Bishop highlights the sense of strangeness that can underlie even ordinary events. She also wrote short stories, many for The New Yorker magazine. Bishop's works include Questions of Travel (1965), a volume of poetry; Brazil (1967), a travel book; An Anthology of 20th Century Brazilian Poetry (1972), which she edited; and Geography III (1976), her last collection of poems.

The art of losing isn't hard to master;

I like that Bishop begins the poem by referring to losing as an art. Losing really does seem like an acquired and accomplished skill after it has been done so many times. Immediately, I find myself feeling happy because of this line. Bishop shrugs her shoulders at the insane idea that losing is something to be ashamed of, something to keep hidden behind all of one's accomplishments. She wants the reader to feel good about getting up in the morning--the disappointments that we all experience must not get us down on life. Yes, she says, I'm willing to admit that loss, like gain, is a natural part of living. It comes easy to the Bishop, and she has the skill mastered like few before her (though I would leave room for a natural loser such as myself). Hirsch's (as opposed to Serch's) point that the opening line serves as a refrain must be commended. If I were to sing the words to this poem, the opening line would be my chorus. Also, I think it important to note that, unlike any other line throughout "One Art," this one repeats itself exactly later in the poem.

so many things seemed filled with the intent

The word "seemed" really sticks out here. Past tense. The reader is given a word showing that the author has much experience dealing with loss. This is not a young girl talking about losing her Barbie. Bishop has seen how life works and is ready to reflect. I also think it important to note the words "filled" and "intent." To me, "filled" explains that life leaves little room for success and gain. Instead, life is outweighed, filled, by the losses that are a natural part of living. Most of the experiences we have will be heading for a destination of loss. The intention to find an end is present in everything. Nothing lasts forever, and most things only last for a short period of time. We enjoy all things in life because we are privileged to hold onto them for a few moments, not because we deserve them or because they are endless.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

This line is interesting. It contains a command from Bishop to the reader. I am supposed to lose something every day. Notice that she doesn't write that "I" or "You" lose something, but leaves the command impersonal. She almost appears to separate herself from the poem for a moment. This is a direct dialogue going on with the reader. She wants me to join in on the fun of losing. Up to this point, I always had pictured loss as terrible and sad, but Bishop wants me to rejoice in the strange happenings of life. To be sure, though, there are many different kinds of loss. Bishop wants me to remember to lose something that's not too important. It keeps me humble and happy. If we never lose anything, we never take time to find what it is that we're looking for in the first place. How many times have I stumbled across some forgotten treasure in my attempt to find a inconsequential item that was lost? Numerous, no doubt.

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

Neither of these items is all that important, except when one badly needs them. I don't like being locked out of my room, though I rarely think about my keys unless I cannot find them. Same with an hour's worth of time. I'll waste an hour playing video games or watching Montel Williams, but I'll cry for that entire hour when I want to hold time still for a moment. I feel Bishop is intentionally placing importance on the little things in life--then she tells us to lose them. It won't be that important anyway, she says. One set of keys and one hour of the day do not define an individual. What good are keys when they cannot be lost? What good is an hour when it cannot be wasted anyway?

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:

Now Bishop wants to push my limits a little bit. Keys--not a problem. An hour--if you say so. But these things, I am told, are not nearly dear enough. As Hirsch notes, Bishop starts with small losses and then continually builds them up as the poem goes on. The first things she mentioned were pretty irrelevant as far as life goes, but now she's looking to expand both my number of losses and the content of those losses. At first, this poem seemed a little bit irrelevant. But now Bishop is attempting to force the reader to up the ante. Practice, as we all know, makes perfect, and Bishop wants us to practice losing big things on purpose. When we do, the most important losses won't be so difficult to overcome. Still, I don't find as much happiness in these words anymore...Loss is terrible no matter how you look at it, isn't it?

to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

True, the loss of these items will not bring complete disaster, but I'm too uptight to think it's okay to lose planes and where it was that I meant to travel. I need to get where I'm going in an orderly fashion, thank you very much. I like the word choices in these two lines. Planes and names sounds great together; similar to the ear yet so very different. Bishop now starts to speak directly to the reader. Before, she was giving examples of losses from her own life, but now she speaks directly to me. She is older, wiser, mature, and wants to let me know about those things that are truly important in life. Relax those shoulders, Scott. Feel good that you’re unsure about your future. That's it. Nice and easy relaxation. Shrug those damn shoulders, I say.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or

After speaking to the reader, Bishop goes back to personalizing her poem. This makes me feel much more comfortable. I'm no longer in the spotlight, and it's her loss we're hearing about, not mine. To be honest, I could care less if Bishop loses her mother's watch--loss seems to mean so little to her anyway. Now, if I was to lose my own mother's watch, well, let's just say I wouldn't have been so careless with it in the first place. And if I did somehow lose an important family item to me, it would be nice to know that my friends cared, not have one of them say "That's no disaster, you big baby." I also feel that the watch is important because it brings an element of time--endless time--into the poem. I already talked about the fact that Bishop is older and wiser, and now she wants the reader to understand that life only lasts for a short period of time. Losing a watch is no big deal because a person should not be worrying about deadlines and minutes anyway. The things that we find pleasurable in life must not be taken for granted. Therefore, we cannot worry about the end time before we have experienced each moment for what it's worth. Bishop takes an mundane experience close to home and extends its importance greatly.

The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Bishop, as Hirsch notes, attempts to remain specific and avoid overstatement when writing about her losses. That's why she pauses after writing that her "last, or / next-to-last, of three loved houses went." She wants to remain exact, distinct, and sound in her ability to relate the true feelings of loss. If, for one moment, Bishop puts her credibility into question, I wouldn't be able to follow the commands of her poem. I would question whether she truly knows about, whether she has really experienced, great loss in life. By remaining exact in her examples, Bishop shows me that she's completely aware of what's being said. I enjoy the importance that's placed on the factual information. Facts are yummy.

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

The losses continue to mount. We started with some keys and now we've made a complete circle. A continent. A huge amount of land and air. Rivers. Her home. These things too have been lost.

I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

Finally, Bishop is willing to admit some feelings of sadness that were felt in her loss. She puts on a qualifier, mind you, explaining that the losses still were no disaster, but for the first time in the poem she admits that she misses those things that were once dear to her. As Hirsch correctly explains, even as Bishop acknowledges that the losses cut deeper and deeper, she wants to add on the fact that they still weren't a disaster. I'm not sure if I can agree with Bishop here, as I think moving away from my homeland would be somewhat of a disaster. However, I think it very effective for her to admit that some feelings of sadness came out of the separation. If she had not, I would most likely think of her as a cold and unforgiving woman, and I could not let this poem influence my life, since I would not understand where she is coming from. By letting the reader know that she does miss some of the things that are lost, Bishop humanizes her writing. Losses may hurt for a period of time, she tells me, but they still are no disaster.

I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident

There is so much going on in these two lines. First, we have the dash, which I think is used to signify that Bishop is coming out of her author persona and starting to speak to someone directly. Is it me? Probably not, but I can personalize it if I want to. Bishop is telling me something important. Second, we have the parenthesis, which signify an offhand comment of some sort--to be honest, I'm not sure why this made it's way into the poem, it doesn't really fit with any interpretation I have.

though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Hirsch's interpretation of this line was amazing. I really can't think of a better way to explain what these lines mean to me than what he came up with. I, like Hirsch, find it interesting that the loss of a beloved is viewed as the greatest loss of all (I would agree on this with Bishop.) Even more than a continent, a loved one can drastically change one's life for the better or worse. Indeed, such a loss (of a lover) really does seem disastrous at the time. There is simply no other way to describe such an intense feeling of pain. Bishop breaks down the reflexive barriers of toughness--those barriers that stand between loss and her true feelings--for this example. She cannot lie to herself anymore. She must Write it! even though it doesn't fit with her moral message, her advice. Above all else, the loss of a beloved will break you down and make you admit that a true disaster has taken place. As Hirsch writes, "The repetition of the word like compounds the effect." She is forced to admit what she wants to keep secret. When Bishop began composing the poem, I'm not really sure she knew she would come to this conclusion. It's almost as if her feelings are being poured on to the page as we read. She starts out with some defense mechanisms, but finds that they cannot hold water. As Bishop’s poem progresses, so does her train of thought. I felt Hirsch’s interpretation of this poem was a little on the technical side, but overall quite good. To be sure, there was no disaster to be found in the poem itself or in Hirsch’s nice interpretation of it.

Penultimate Peril    Tim

Since I read the poems in this chapter of Hirsch before I read the chapter, I will try writing about my poem of choice before I read the chapter, then again after I read the chapter.

The most outstanding aspect of this poem for me is the progression from strict rationality to genuine feeling. The first stanza leads me to think that the poem is a sort of instruction, something I should consider as a lesson. Bishop begins, "The art of losing isn't hard to master; / so many things seemed filled with the intent / to be lost that their loss is no disaster." (Hirsch How to Read a Poem, pg. 32) My academic training tells me this is a thesis and it looks like one. There is a simple and strong statement along with some logic for support. The rhyme of this first stanza and throughout the poem makes it sound like a mnemonic device from elementary school. The phrase "the art of losing isn't hard to master" starts spinning in my head over and over. I sense discord when I reach the word "fluster" in the second stanza; in my first reading I simply breezed forward, not noticing. The second reading I stumbled and noticed the foreshadowing this word holds. This messy rhyme is reality and emotion sneaking into this tidy lesson.

The third stanza manages to hold itself together, but the fourth is different entirely. The fourth stanza begins with "I", a person has entered this poem and is talking, this entrance alerts me to the fallibility of first person. There is even an exclamation point as this person conjures support for the trembling thesis. In this stanza the person has lost things that may hold memories and may be connected with emotions, but they are still only objects.

The fourth stanza holds it shape like the third, but that is because it focuses on something easier. These lines recall some places the speaker has been. Emotion is finally expressed directly "I miss them". This is a big step which shows the speaker lost more objectivity. While she is surrendering her logic, the thoughts aren't strong enough to evoke her deeper held emotion. She recalled the cities to contain herself, she only misses the cities.

The speaker must recollect herself before she can begin the last stanza as I must wait for the pause "--". In this stanza I can read her thoughts in parentheses. The thought of the joking voice is an idea that perfectly captures a person. The implied humor comes from a person's sense of comedy, their intellectual qualities, their perspective in life. The voice holds importance as a person's translator for thought and feeling. The next thought "a gesture / I love" has great strength as it unveils the deep emotion (dramatically with "I love" leaping out after the line break). I finally see where this poem has led me. It is not a lesson for me, but a poem (almost inner monologue) about this woman trying to manage her grieving. The poem resolves in the last line when the speaker pushes herself to write the last word.

I've written quite a bit about this poem, so I will limit my thoughts on Hirsch a bit and comment on two things.

Hirsch writes, "This brings us to the final stanza where, in an extraordinary turn, the lyric becomes a love poem." (Hirsch, How to Read a Poem pg. 35) Later he makes another comment about the author "addressing her lover directly". I'm not convinced of Bishop's loss as a lover. I should rephrase that. I'm not convinced the "lyric becomes a love poem" in the final stanza. I think Hirsch's statement limits the feeling of Bishop. I think what she says is more universal. Hirsch uses "I love" thereby "summoning and representing the beloved". I feel the powerful words reflect not on the loved, but on the feeling, the admitting and surrender of "I love". These seemingly romantic words give power to the dramatic journey from the cold, inhuman beginning.

Hirsch's first line about "One Art" struck me. "'One Art' is a kind of instruction manual on loss." At my last understanding of this poem before reading the Chapter, I was pleased to discover that this poem was not an instruction manual on loss. I had very logically devised that the poem sounds like one at start, but unravels into a untidy emotional experience. I felt a surge of frustration as the sentence entered my thoughts. I quickly saw the simplicity of it. Since this poem isn't an instruction manual and is instead an emotional experience, it is an instruction manual. I think this experience, typical of poetry, is terrific.

On a side note, what is up with Hirsch using 'penultimate' twice within five lines? It seems like he's trying to be lofty. Is this word poetry jargon, or is he just being smart?

Usually one thinks of making something out of nothing. However, Bishop puts a new twist on this and glorifies the process of losing as an art of making something. This is interesting considering that Hirsch begins his Chapter 2 talking about the art of making as poetry: Poiesis means "making" and , as the ancient Greeks recognized, the poet is first and foremost a maker" (Hirsch, How to Read a Poem, p. 31). When one loses something, one would think that one has reversed this concept of making something. However, Bishop’s poem looks at the art of losing on the positive side. She makes the concept of looking at a half-filled glass of water as half full apply to any situation. In this instance, Bishop sees not the loss, but the gain as a result of losing something.

(Bishop "One Art," from How to Read a Poem, p. 32)

I like how Bishop not only is able to laugh at her own expense, but able to realize that loss is an ordinary process of living. Without loss, there would be no gain, just as without hate there would be no love. Bishop keeps life simple and carefree. How many times have I heard a teacher use the acronym: K.I.S.S.(Keep it simple student)? I’ve thought about this concept as it pertains to my studies, but never my life. Losing is simple and easy, so why not take advantage of it? I agree with Bishop that some things are just too hard to keep hold of. Therefore, why not just let them go and be lost? It makes my life less complex with fewer worries.

I think we need to learn how to lose things in this society. We are too concerned with gaining and achieving more and more that when we do lose something so insignificant, it becomes a big deal to us. We lose track of what’s really important in our lives and what we really need.

I like how if you take the words that rhyme in Bishop’s poem and put them together, it forms a new poem within the original poem:

(Bishop "One Art," from How to Read a Poem, p. 31-2)

Is there a song and rhythm hiding in this poem?

I see how losing is the intent of a continent. It spent and went almost too quickly. Some higher master’s vast gesture caused a disaster.

Lose the Art?

Elizabeth Bishop's poem, "One Art," is humorous while also sad. Its irony prevails throughout the entire poem about how to embrace losing because it's an inevitable art that one will face sooner than later. The last stanza is the most powerful for me both in irony and at her true meaning that rises out of the irony:

---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.

The first two lines about how the persona is going to lose you but it's a part of the art of losing and therefore the speaker will remember you and your voice and gesture but no longer will you be around. Aah, but such is life is what Bishop's line breathe. Now for the remaining lines, Bishop throws quite a twist in her poem! This funny "(Write it!)" is thrown in as if it's an interjection the line is supposed to know is there but it snuck its way in. However, then she included like on each side so we know that it's supposed to be there. So what is she saying? Although writing may look like disaster or it may look like losing...we may think that when writing we are working against losing but all-in-all it's disaster? Or maybe she's telling us that writing is the only way we can not lose things! In fact, she has mentioned things that you will lose in the poem so really they have not been entirely lost because they are written. That's a much brighter thought although she does seem to end with the feeling that no matter what, loss will occur.

It’s been quite a long time since I’ve done a formal explication of a poem, so when I read Elizabeth Bishop’s "One Art" (Hirsch, 32) I didn’t see or look for most of the things Hirsch mentioned in his explication. The repetitious nature of the poem is impossible to miss though. I read it as someone trying to convince themselves that these losses weren’t disasters. But in the end I get the feeling that they are. OK, so I know I’m just paraphrasing the poem, but that’s all I can do today, I don’t feel like a literary critic today and I was really quite annoyed that all Edward Hirsch could comment on in Elizabeth’s poem is the formalities of it. It was interesting to learn about villanelles, which I had never heard of before, and perhaps I might even try and write one to see what the process is like, but nothing Hirsch said emotionally connected me to the poem. Realizing the form the Bishop chose for her poem gave me a little insight into her aspirations for the poem, and her process of writing it, but I didn’t get a lot more out of the poem just by knowing this. I think an explication should emotionally connect you to either the poem itself, the author’s vision, or something! I don’t know if it’s possible to be emotionally connected to the grammer and formal elements of a poem, but Hirsch certainly didn’t achieve that if it was his goal.