Agnes Grozier Herbertson’s “The Seed Merchant’s Son” isn’t a poem of the trenches, but one from the home front, where different kinds of battles are fought, battles against despair and loss.
The
first half of Herbertson’s poem lives in the past, celebrating brightness,
speed, youth, and love. The second half
of the poem, by contrast, is dark, still, aged, and somber. As if with held breath, the poem asks
a single question: “What could one say to him in his need?”
The Seed Merchant's Son
The
Seed-Merchant has lost his son,
His dear,
his loved, his only one.
So
young he was. Even now it seems
He
was a child with a child's dreams.
He
would race over the meadow-bed
With
his bright, bright eyes and his cheeks all red.
Fair
and healthy and long of limb:
It
made one young just to look at him.
His
school books, into the cupboard thrust,
Have
scarcely had time to gather dust.
Died
in the war. . . . And it seems his eyes
Must
have looked at death with a child's surprise.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
The
Seed-Merchant goes on his way:
I
saw him out on his land to-day;
Old to have fathered so young a son,
And
now the last glint of his youth is gone.
What
could one say to him in his need?
Little
there seemed to say indeed.
So
still he was that the birds flew round
The
grey of his head without a sound,
Careless
and tranquil in the air,
As
if naught human were standing there.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Oh,
never a soul could understand
Why
he looked at the earth, and the seed in his hand,
As
he had never before seen seed or sod:
I
heard him murmur: 'Thank God, thank God!'
--Agnes Grozier Herbertson
--Agnes Grozier Herbertson
The poem achieves its poignancy as it attempts to find meaning and beauty in the midst of inexpressible sadness. The
place where the poem shifts is with the ellipsis in line 11: it asks us to pause and rest with the
realities of death. It reminds us that death
nearly always comes as a surprise, whether in war or in nursing homes, and survivors
have little choice but to "soldier on." The poem acknowledges the inadequacies of language to comfort or make sense of
sorrow: “little there seemed to say
indeed,” as even the birds keep silent, circling the solitary father “without
a sound.”
But perhaps most striking are the lines, “Oh, never a soul could understand/Why he looked at the earth, and the seed in his hand,/As if he had never before seen seed or sod.” Why does the father murmur thanks? What prompts his prayer?
Kathe Kollwitz, "The Grieving Parents" |
One
analysis of the poem suggests that the seed and earth reassure the father of
rebirth and resurrection – his son lives on, whether in God’s heaven or in the
cycle of nature. Yet this seems to ignore
“Oh, never a soul could understand.”
Perhaps the poem whispers a different truth: we cannot ever fully know another’s grief nor
understand this man’s way of dealing with the despair of losing his only
son. Indeed, we often can’t fully
understand or communicate our own griefs.
There are no good explanations for the boy’s death or the father’s
words; grief and faith are mysteries to which we can only quietly surrender.
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ReplyDeleteI've found an interesting companion poem: "The Sower" by Lawrence Binyon. Here's the link: http://www.poemhunter.com/best-poems/robert-laurence-binyon/the-sower-eastern-france/
ReplyDeleteGerman artist and sculptor Käthe Kollwitz (Berlin) must have wrenched her heart out to create her twin statues of the grieving parents mourning the loss of their son Peter, who fell during the initial months of the War. 'Die trauernde Eltern', the mother, bent over the son who she will have to do without henceforth, the father, barely able to keep his pain inside his body and mind, are a mute testimony to the devastation that War causes to man.
ReplyDeleteIn her private diary, Käthe movingly describes her 'gradus ad Parnassum', pointing out just why her dead son would finally be lacking in the Pieta she hammered out in his (and everyone else's) memory.
It fell to us, here in (West-)Flanders, to become the custodians of this deep reality and the twin art work that express it. Their message is as eternal as it is universal and recognizable.
That is why the Deutscher Soldatenfriedhof, in the Praetbos at Koekelare-Vladslo, will be a life-changing experience to every visitor.
Best, from Flanders
Chris
I have never read this poem before; it is beautiful - and somehow very apt for the situation we now endure. Although now, too often the young mourn the old. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteHaunting relevance in these strange and sad times. Thanks for reading and commenting.
DeleteThe same artist Käthe Kollwitz has another of her works of art in the Neue Wache in Berlin, the German national monument to the victims of any war, whatever and wherever.
DeleteIt represents a mother holding her dead son, much like Michelangelo's Pieta.