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Sylvia Plath and The Villanelle

Sylvia Plath and The Villanelle. By Carolyn Cover. Origin of the Villanelle. While similar ballads date back to the Renaissance, the modern structure of the villanelle was not commonly used until the later centuries.

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Sylvia Plath and The Villanelle

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  1. Sylvia Plath and The Villanelle By Carolyn Cover

  2. Origin of the Villanelle • While similar ballads date back to the Renaissance, the modern structure of the villanelle was not commonly used until the later centuries. • The first ‘modern’ villanelle was written in 1574 by Jean Passerat. (I Have Lost My Turtledove) • It was then popularized in the nineteenth century, largely due to the effort of poet Theodore de Banville.

  3. Structure • 19 lines, five tercets concluded by a quatrain • No specific meter (trimeter, tetrameter, and pentameter are common) • Use of repetition is employed.

  4. Rhyme Scheme • The upper case A indicates a refrain • (or repetition of a line) with the • subscript of 1 or 2 being the refrain of • that specific line. • The lower case a and b indicate a • rhyme that corresponds with A and B, • respectively. A1bA2abA1abA2abA1abA2abA1A2

  5. Devices • Refrains • The repetition of certain lines gives the work an elegiac tone. Villanelles also often developed a progression, which is digressed with the last verse. • May use enjambment (continuation of a line onto the next with no pause of punctuation) or end-stopping. Plath’s “Mad Girl’s Love Song” uses both.

  6. Sylvia Plath Silvia Plath was born in Boston, MA in 1932. Before his death in 1940, Sylvia’s father was extremely strict. Both this authoritarian attitude and his death clearly affected Sylvia’s poetry. Sylvia was highly ambitious; her first published work appeared in the Christian Science Monitor just after her graduation. Plath acquired a Fulbright Scholarship and moved to Cambridge where she met poet Ted Hughes. The couple were married in 1956. They suffered a very tumultuous relationship as Hughes frequently left Sylvia dejected in favor of his mistress, AssiaWevell.

  7. Depression and Death Sylvia struggled with depression throughout her life, including an attempted suicide in 1953. On February 11, 1963, Sylvia committed suicide by turning on her gas oven and breathing in the fumes. Some argue that Plath never intended to follow through completely with the suicide as she left a note to her neighbor instructing him to call the doctor. In 1982, Plath won the Pulitzer Prize for her work, The Collected Poems. She is the first poet to win this award posthumously.

  8. Mad Girl’s Love Song • I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.) God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan's men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

  9. My Villanelle! The details grow dim and fade away. The color of your eyes, once so significant -- You appear less in my dreams with each passing day. No, I doubt I shall remember the way you looked at me; Crooked grin and smiling eyes, a mischievous glint. The memories grow dim and fade away. I can hardly recall the times, a far cry from this world we would stray Subject to your influence, my reason you tint. You appear less in my dreams with each passing day. Then you left and I felt my soul erode to the quick I hid my healing heart away, my resolve a feeble splint Yet the details grow dim and fade away These days the world lies at my feet, a splendid array. I am self sufficient, my mind bare of any imprint. You appear less in my dreams with each passing day. Mesmerized, I once pored over your breadth; every facet of your being But those memories are stagnant, a coded language without a hint. The details grow dim and fade away. You appear less in my dreams with each passing day.

  10. Sources • http://www.webexhibits.org/poetry/explore_classic_villanelle_background.html • http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/11 • http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/sylviaplath/1411

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