Poetry for All

Transcript for Episode 14: George Herbert, ÒThe CollarÓ

[intro music]

Abram: Hello, IÕm Abram Van Engen.

Joanne: And IÕm Joanne Diaz.

Abram: And this is _Poetry for All._Ê

Joanne: In this podcast, we read a poem, discuss it, learn from it, and then read it one more time.

Abram: Today, weÕre taking a close look at George HerbertÕs great poem, ÒThe Collar.Ó Joanne, before we read this poem, maybe we can talk about what brings us to this poem in the first place.

Joanne: Yeah, George Herbert is one of my favorite poets. He was born in 1593. He died in 1633. He was only 39 when he died, and even though was born into a world of enormous prestige and power, he chose the life of a priest and he spent his last years of his life in a small church in Bremerton in rural England. And as a poet, he is very well known for his attention to structure and form. He wrote beautiful concrete, or visual, poems; and then in this poem, ÒThe Collar,Ó he has a more haphazard or wayward movement or shape.

Abram: And really the gist of this poem is a priest who basically says heÕs had enough. He wants to walk out the door and leave it behind. ÒThe Collar,Ó by George Herbert:

	I struck the board, and cried, ÒNo more;
			I will abroad!
	What? shall I ever sigh and pine?
	My lines and life are free, free as the road,
	Loose as the wind, as large as store.
		Shall I be still in suit?
	Have I no harvest but a thorn
	To let me blood, and not restore
	What I have lost with cordial fruit?
		Sure there was wine
	Before my sighs did dry it; there was corn
		Before my tears did drown it.
			Is the year only lost to me?
				Have I no bays to crown it,
	No flowers, no garlands gay? All blasted?
			All wasted?
	Not so, my heart; but there is fruit,
			And thou hast hands.
	Recover all thy sigh-blown age
	On double pleasures: leave thy cold dispute
	Of what is fit and not. Forsake thy cage,
		Thy rope of sands,
	Which pretty thoughts have made, and made to thee
	Good cable, to enforce and draw,
		And by thy law,
	While thou didst wink and wouldst not see.
		Away! Take heed;
		I will abroad.
	Call in thy deathÕs-head there; tie up thy fears;
		He that forbears
		To suit and serve his need
		Deserves his load.Ó
	But as I raved and grew more fierce and wild
		At every word,
	Methought I heard one calling, _Child!_
		And I replied _My Lord._

Joanne: Wow! I love your reading of that poem! That was so dramaticÑ

Abram: [laughs]

Joanne: As you read it, why is it so dramatic? How did you know how to read it that way?

Abram: Yeah, I just feel the poet insisting and his insistence becomes almost too much insistence. I mean, you can even see that in, for example, the fourth line, where he says:

	My lines and life are free, free as the road

This repetition of ÒfreeÓ is almost like heÕs too much insisting that heÕs free.

Joanne: [laughs]

Abram: ÒReally, truly IÕm free, I could walk out the door any moment! IÕm walking out the door right now! Look at me! Look at me! IÕm closing the door behind me! IÕm free!Ó And the whole time, you realize, heÕs not left, heÕs still at the altar.

Joanne: And what interests me about the way you started your reading of this poem and where you finished, you started with this really defiant kind of bombast and by the end of the poem, your voice had lowered a bit; it was a quieter ending. And Barbara Harman, she wrote about this years ago: the ways in which Herbert creates collapsing poems; poems that fall in on themselves. And IÕm really interested in that idea of literal or metaphorical collapse, because this is a poem from George HerbertÕs one book of poems that he ever collected called The Temple. And thatÕs a really useful title to be aware of because George Herbert is always thinking about architecture. The architecture of his soul, of his spirit, of the church, and all of the relationships that sustain or create fragility in those architectures, and I feel like ÒThe CollarÓ is one of those poems that shows a kind of collapse. It goes from defiant and outrage and wildness into being very subdued. ThereÕs a way in which Herbert writes his lines that allow us as readers to hear that drama and know how to perform it.

Abram: [hums in agreement]

Joanne: So the poem begins with just even looking at the title. Just...as something as simple as the title already gives us so much information. Right? We know that titles are really just ways in which poets can prepare us for the tensions and excitements of a poem. So this is ÒThe CollarÓ; C-O-L-L-A-R. So when I hear Òcollar,Ó I think of something someone might wear around oneÕs neck; I think of it as a kind of restraint in some ways. But there are other layers to that word as well, right?

Abram: Yeah, so, also during this age, ÒcholerÓ was a word for Òanger.Ó It was one of the humors and the theory they had of the body, so if you had too much choler, you were too angry. ItÕs a sort of pun on saying Òthe angerÓ as the title. So itÕs both the yoke of restraint around his neck, but also the anger that is against that yoke, against that restraint. And one other sort of pun on that, is that the ÒcallerÓÑlike C-A-L-L-E-RÑthisÉthis response heÕs hearing in the end, or at least he thinks that heÕs hearing in the end. So maybe we should talk about how we get there by kind of walking through the poem from the beginning. Starting with those first lines:
	
	I struck the board, and cried, ÒNo more;
			I will abroad!

I love this opening because you can picture him there at the altar and just slamming his fist down, like ÒWhat am I doing here? Enough with this!Ó I feel like Herbert is always playing with language and with little tricks of language and itÕs almost as though when he strikes the board, that word ÒboardÓ jumbles up and becomes the word Òabroad.Ó

Joanne: [laughs]

Abram: ÒI will abroad! No more! I will abroad!Ó And then that next word in the next lineÑÒWhat?ÓÑas though having just said this out loud, the congregation is really surprised and looks up at him, and he says: ÒWhat? Shall I ever sigh and pine? Should I just sit here, sighing and pining my life away? My lines and life are free, free as the road.Ó What do you see happening in those plays on the kinda sounds of the words themselves?

Joanne: Look at the way he creates that assonance:

	Shall I ever sigh and pine?
	My lines and life are freeÉ

Are they free, though? It seems like he wants to be free, but the lines are still keeping him bound in some way, even as they have some waywardness and irregularity to them, you know?

Abram: Absolutely. So if you hear him say ÒIÕm free, free as the road, loose as the wind, as large as store,Ó and yet the things rhyme and fit, then you realize itÕs not quite as loose as the wind. HeÕs not quite as free as the road. And exactly how free is a road anyway?

Joanne: [laughs] Yes!

Abram: So and then he comes to this line:

	Shall I be still in suit?

And I feel like thatÕs one of these sort of key questions here in this poem: ÒShould I still be waiting on You, God? Should I still be standing here, serving You, when I could walk out the door and serve myself?Ó

Joanne: Okay, and also, what is the nature of the relationship with God? So thatÕs a big struggle in this poem. And in these early lines, hisÉthat is a central question: ÒShall I still be in suit?Ó That sets up a metaphor in which God is King and HerbertÕs poetic speaker is a servant to that King. So itÕs a monarchical relationship. By the end of the poem, you have GodÑor at least what he thinks is the voice of GodÑreferring to Herbert and saying ÒChild.Ó And then he replies, ÒMy Lord.Ó So itÕs a little bit more like a father-son relationship by the end of the poem, which is a little more intimate. Still respectful, still deferential. He says ÒMy Lord,Ó but God refers to him as a child. And thatÕs a very powerful shift in the relationship, you know?

Abram: Well, and it seems like the key there is that if he only conceives of himself as a servant to a king, it becomes impossible to bear this load. But as soon as the King turns out to be your Father, then itÕs that shift in the concept of the relationship that allows Herbert to accept the fact that he is a servant to this Lord.

Joanne: And he is very explicit about how bound he still is, at least in his mind to some of those more Earthly recognitions and acknowledgements. And if we go down a few lines in this poem, and heÕs thinking about all that heÕs lost, all that it takes for him to wait and to serve. Um, and he says:

		Sure there was wine
	Before my sighs did dry it; there was corn
		Before my tears did drown it.
			Is the year only lost to me?
				Have I no bays to crown it,
	No flowers, no garlands gay? All blasted?
			All wasted?

Oh my God, these lines are so sad! And so here, thÉthe reason I love those lines is those bays are the bay leaves of the laurel wreath that aÉa great poet would wear.

Abram: [hums in agreement]

Joanne: And so heÕs saying, Òam I living this life and getting no recognition for the value of my poetry?Ó Well, thatÕs not an appropriate question to be asking, right? A...And yet heÕs going there! [laughs]

Abram: Yeah.

Joanne: There is a shift or an attempt to shift his thinking and feeling in this poem, right after those lines that I just read:

	ÉAll blasted?
		All wasted?
	Not so, my heart; but there is fruit,
		And thou hast hands.
	Recover all thy sigh-blown age
	On double pleasures: leave thy cold dispute
	Of what is fit and not. Forsake thy cage,
		Thy rope of sands,
	Which petty thoughts have made, and made to thee
	Good cable, to enforce and draw
		And be thy law,
	While thou didst wink and wouldst not see.

Wow! ThatÕs a lot of information, and how do you read [laughs] whatÕs happening to him in those lines?

Abram: WellÉitÕs interesting because up until that moment, you just have that sheer rebellion. Like Òforget this, IÕm out of here.Ó And then you have this more measured voice of council, some people call itÑa voice of rebellion, a voice of councilÑbut the voice of council is very odd, Ôcause itÕs not counciling him back into his Christian duty, itÕs not a voice that opposes the rebellion. To me, it reads more like a voice of reason for the rebellion.

Joanne: Hmm.

Abram: ÒDouble the pleasures,Ó in order to make up for lost time. ÒRecover all thy sigh-blown age / on double pleasures,Ó leave this dispute, leave all this thinking about whatÕs fit, whatÕs not, and what can I do, what canÕt I do? That. All of that is what he calls a Òrope of sands.Ó ÒYour thoughts are making a law for you, your law is caging you in. Just leave it.Ó ThatÕs how I read those lines. How do you read those lines?

Joanne: I love these lines because theyÕre so psychological, and I love how many voices are within the poetic speaker in this poem. And so as we look at each of these sentences in fits and spurts, some are exclamations, some are questions that sound outraged, some of them are more meditative. And itÕs the speaker kind of battling with himself and trying to understand how in some ways, heÕs created his own condition.

Abram: Yeah and right after those lines of sort of meditative council, he says:
	
Away! Take heed;
	I will abroad.

And what I love about those lines is heÕs not yet abroad. [laughs]

Joanne: [laughs]

Abram: A...And heÕs talking himself into this! I mean, heÕs so fed up with his service in the church and yet, heÕs still trying to convince himself to leave.

Joanne: And then we come back to this more meditative, measured voice:

	Call in thy deathÕs-head there; tie up thy fears;
		He that forbears
		To suit and serve his need
		Deserves his load.Ó

Wow! ÒDeservesÓ as a verb there is really interesting and powerful. How do you read those lines?

Abram: So first of all, I think itÕs worth saying just what a ÒdeathÕs headÓ is. So in this day and age, you would sometimes bring in a skull so that you would look at it and think about your own mortality, and that is supposed to turn your mind from temporal things to eternal things. Right now, he says:

	Étie up thy fears;

ÒCall on that skull! Take a look at it! Alright, tie up your fears and be done with it.Ó And then he says:

	He that forbears
	to suit and serve his need
	deserves his load.Ó

ÒHe that refuses to serve his own needs, deserves what he gets. If youÕre going to keep forestalling your own pleasures, putting them off, well, you deserve what you get.Ó And the "serveÓ becomes ÒdeservesÓ in the next line.

Joanne: Wow. Yeah, and that alignment between ÒservingÓ and Òdeserving.Ó And then the way the poem ends, itÕs so dramatic:

	But as I raved and grew more fierce and wild
		At every word,
	methought I heard one calling, _Child!_
		And I replied _My Lord._

This poem, I canÕt think of any poem from the sixteenth or seventeenth century that is more likeÉdialogic than this one. Right? It has so many voices in it! It has what might me GodÕs voice, um, it certainly has multiple voices battling within the poetic speaker. ItÕs so dynamic, no?

Abram: Yeah. And you know, part of the effect of the ending here is that all of these lines that have come in and gone out that are sometimes eight syllables, sometimes ten or twelve, sometimes six, four, whatever, suddenly at the very end we get these four very measured linesÑa long line, a short line, a long line, a short lineÑwith rhymes that go, basically ABAB. And so part of the effect of the poem is again built into this form or structure of the poem. After heÕs tried out all these random rhymes and random line lengths, at the very end of the poem, everything becomes measured.

Joanne: Hmm.

Abram: And part of that measuring of those lines is producing the effect of a sense of calming him down.

Joanne: Ahh. Oh thatÕs great, right? And it...and thereÕs that collapse, that loud volume, just...it just vanishes entirely by the end.

Abram: And that child, Òmethought I heard one calling, Child!Ó, itÕs in italics with an exclamation mark. But you can imagine a...a reader hearing that in any number of ways, right? So, it could be a very soft calling out. It could be a harsh rebuke. But I get the sense that itÕs just like, IÕve had this with my own children, right? Where theyÕre justÉtheyÕve lost their mind about the simplest thing, right? Like, ÒWe are having tortellini tonight!? Ahhh!Ó

Joanne: [laughing]

Abram: And you just look at them and itÕs sort of like a smile, you just think ÒChild,Ó right?

Joanne: [laughing]

Abram: Uh. ItÕs just like, ÒItÕs okay, itÕs alright.Ó And itÕs almost as if itÕs the Lord accepting the raving as Òalright. ItÕs alright. ItÕs okay. I understand why youÕre raving like this. I understand that you need to do this, but look, my yoke is easy and my burden is light and actually true freedom resides in the service to it and not in trying to leave it behind.Ó

Joanne: That is really nice that you are walking me through the use of that one word Òchild.Ó ItÕs so affectionate. ItÕs so patient. And itÕs so honest in its acknowledgement of the difficulty.

Abram: Shall we read this poem again?

Joanne: Yes! ÒThe Collar,Ó by George Herbert:

I struck the board, and cried, ÒNo more;
			I will abroad!
	What? shall I ever sigh and pine?
	My lines and life are free, free as the road,
	Loose as the wind, as large as store.
		Shall I be still in suit?
	Have I no harvest but a thorn
	To let me blood, and not restore
	What I have lost with cordial fruit?
		Sure there was wine
	Before my sighs did dry it; there was corn
		Before my tears did drown it.
			Is the year only lost to me?
				Have I no bays to crown it,
	No flowers, no garlands gay? All blasted?
			All wasted?
	Not so, my heart; but there is fruit,
		And thou hast hands.
	Recover all thy sigh-blown age
	On double pleasures: leave thy cold dispute
	Of what is fit and not. Forsake thy cage,
		Thy rope of sands,
	Which pretty thoughts have made, and made to thee
	Good cable, to enforce and draw,
		And by thy law,
	While thou didst wink and wouldst not see.
		Away! Take heed;
		I will abroad.
	Call in thy deathÕs-head there; tie up thy fears;
		He that forbears
		To suit and serve his need
		Deserves his load.Ó
	But as I raved and grew more fierce and wild
		At every word,
	Methought I heard one calling, _Child!_
		And I replied _My Lord._

Abram: Hmm. So good. Thank you, thank you for reading it.

[outro music starts playing]

Abram: You can learn more about George Herbert and see the text of this poem on the _Poetry for All_ website at poetryforall.fireside.fm.

Joanne: And please remember to follow us on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.

Abram: Thank you for listening.

[outro music continues to end]