Friday 20 May 2011

The Laboratory, by Robert Browning

The subtitle to Robert Browning's poem “The Laboratory”, “Ancien Regime”, tells us that it is set in France before the revolution, when the old regime of the monarchy was still in place. The poem is a dramatic monologue. The narrator appears to be a woman, a fact which is not apparent in the opening stanza, but becomes so as the poem develops.

In the first stanza, the narrator addresses another person using the terms 'thou' and 'thy', which are the old-fashioned familiar forms of 'you' and 'your'. She is putting on a mask and watching the person in the laboratory through a haze of smoke: 'thro' these faint smokes curling whitely'. The narrator refers to the laboratory as 'this devil's-smithy', which is the first sign that something sinister is going on. The final line of this stanza leaves us in no doubt of this, as the woman asks, 'Which is the poison to poison her, prithee?' The repetition of 'poison' emphasises its importance.

The opening phrase of the second stanza, 'He is with her,' suggests that the narrator has asked for poison to be concocted because she is jealous. It would seem that her lover has deserted her for another woman. She says that they think she is crying and has gone to pray in 'the drear / Empty church'. The couple, meanwhile, are making fun of her, stressed by the repetition of 'laugh' in line 7. The stanza closes with the brief phrase 'I am here', emphasising the setting of the laboratory which is in such sharp contrast to the church.

The phrase 'Grind away' at the start of the third stanza shows the woman's eagerness for the chemist to make the poison. Browning brings the description alive by using alliteration in the phrases 'moisten and mash' and 'Pound at thy powder'. The narrator is not in a hurry and says she would rather watch the concocting of the poison than be dancing at the King's court.

In the fourth stanza the narrator comments on the ingredients of the poison. The chemist is mixing it with a pestle and mortar, and the woman describes the gum from a tree as 'gold oozings', giving the impression that it is both beautiful and valuable. She then looks at a blue liquid in a 'soft phial', finding the colour 'exquisite'. She imagines that it will taste sweet because of its beautiful appearance and is surprised that it is a poison.

Stanza five begins with the narrator wishing she possessed all the ingredients, which she refers to as 'treasures'. Browning uses personification to describe them as 'a wild crowd', and the woman considers them as 'pleasures', a sinister attitude to poisonous substances. The use of the adjective 'invisible' means that just a tiny amount would be required. The narrator delights in the thought of being able to carry 'pure death' in any one of a list of small accessories, such as an earring or a fan-mount.

In the sixth stanza the narrator turns her thoughts to how easy it will be at court to give 'a mere lozenge', like a sweet, that will kill a woman in just half an hour. She names two women in this stanza, Pauline and Elise, and it is not clear if one of them is the current target of her jealousy and desire to murder. She delights at the thought of Elise dying, and Browning uses enjambment to create the list 'her head / And her breast and her arms and her hands', perhaps because she is jealous of Elise's beauty.

The seventh stanza opens with the sudden exclamation 'Quick!' and the narrator is now excited as the poison is ready. She then reveals her disappointment, however, as its colour is 'grim', unlike the blue liquid in the phial. She hoped that it would make her intended victim's drink look so appetising that she would be encouraged to drink it. In the eighth stanza she is concerned about how tiny the amount of poison is: 'What a drop!' She says that the other woman is considerably bigger than her, and thinks that she 'ensnared' or caught the man in her trap because of her size. The narrator is not convinced that the drop of poison will be fatal: 'this never will free / The soul from those masculine eyes'. It will not be enough to stop the victim's pulse, which the narrator describes as 'magnificent'.

In the ninth stanza the narrator recounts, in lines using enjambment, how she had gazed at the other woman the previous evening when her ex-lover was with whispering to her. She had hoped that by staring at her she 'would fall shrivelled'. This obviously did not happen, but the narrator knows that the poison will do its work. Stanza ten has slightly shorter lines than the others, and the narrator addresses the chemist directly. She knows that the poison will act quickly, but she does not want her victim to have an easy death: 'Not that I bid you spare her the pain'. Browning uses alliteration in a cluster of three to describe how the narrator wants the other woman to suffer the effects of the poison, in the phrase 'Brand, burn up, bite'. The stanza ends with the narrator commenting that her ex-lover will always have the memory of the pain on the dying woman's face, and she appears to relish this thought.

The narrator asks the chemist if the poison is ready at the start of the eleventh stanza. She asks him to remove her mask and not to be 'morose', or gloomy. The poison will be lethal for her victim, and she does not want the mask to stop her having a good look at it. She describes it with the alliterative phrase 'a delicate droplet', and alliteration appears again as she comments 'my whole fortune's fee!' meaning that it has cost her everything she owns. In the closing line of the stanza, she wonders if she herself can be harmed by the poison, considering the effect it will have on her victim.

The twelfth and final stanza begins with the narrator once again showing how much the poison is costing her. She tells the chemist 'Now take all my jewels, gorge gold to your fill', and the alliteration in the phrase 'gorge gold' adds emphasis. She shows her gratitude by telling the chemist, whom she addresses as 'old man', that he may kiss her on her lips if he would like to. She asks him, however, to 'brush this dust off' her, referring to traces of poison, as she is afraid it will harm her too: 'lest horror it brings'. The poem ends as she proclaims that she will 'dance at the King's!' a triumphant announcement. Whether or not her victim dies from ingesting the poison, we do not know, but she shows no remorse and is obviously determined to go through with her murderous plan.

Browning has used an anapaestic metre in “The Laboratory”, in other words two stressed syllables followed by one unstressed one. This gives the lines of poetry an upbeat, fast-paced rhythm that convey the woman's excitement at the idea of poisoning her victim. Browning has created a character who is totally ruthless and eaten up by jealousy, determined to carry out an act of revenge that will prove fatal to another woman.

In his book “Revise the English and English Literature Anthology,” Tony Childs states that the narrator of “The Laboratory” is based on an imaginary incident in the life of Marie Madeleine Marguerite D'Aubray Brinvilliers (1630-76). In reality, she killed her father and two brothers by poisoning them and also planned to poison her husband. Although her victims were all male, Browning has adapted the character into a dangerously jealous woman targeting her ex-lover's new female interests. His portrait of her is utterly convincing.



In her poem “Stealing,” Carol Ann Duffy takes on the persona of a criminal who appears to have no regrets. The poem opens with the narrator repeating a question, 'The most unusual thing I ever stole?' It seems that he or she is being questioned by someone who is curious about the thefts. The thief's answer to the question is 'A snowman,' which certainly is an unusual thing to steal. The description is poetic: 'He looked magnificent: a tall, white mute / beneath the winter moon.' Enjambment allows for an extended image; it is noticeable that there are three words beginning with the letter 'm' here. Two more appear in the following sentence: 'mate' and 'mind'. The thief explains his desire to have the snowman, using the simile that his mind was 'as cold as the slice of ice / within my own brain.' The coldness of the two minds conveys the idea that the thief is a person with no feelings, a harsh criminal. Duffy uses rhyme within the simile in 'slice of ice', creating a vivid image. The first stanza ends with a simple sentence in which the thief recounts that he stole the snowman's head first.

The second stanza opens with the thief stating bluntly that it would be better to die rather than give up on the idea of stealing something you want: 'Better off dead than giving in.' He remembers how heavy the snowman was when he carried the 'torso' close to his own chest and the intense coldness penetrated his own body: 'a fierce chill / piercing my gut.' The phrase that follows, 'part of the thrill', forms a rhyme with 'chill', although 'thrill' is not at the end of the line. What gave the thief a thrill was the thought of children waking up the next morning and crying when they saw that the snowman had gone. This is another obvious clue to the harshness of the thief. He ends the second stanza with the brief statement 'Life's tough.' The shortness of the sentence gives it punch, and again shows the thief's lack of remorse. We sense that life has been hard for him and he wants to pay back, even if the ones who suffer are children.

At the beginning of the third stanza, the thief goes on to say 'Sometimes I steal things I don't need'. This perhaps suggests a sense of boredom. He says 'I joy-ride cars', but it is just for the sake of it, not because he has to go somewhere. Then again he burgles houses purely out of curiosity. Line 13 contains another three words beginning with the letter 'm': 'I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera.' This line, however, is much less poetic than the description of the snowman in the first stanza, using slang words such as 'mucky' and 'pinch'. The last two lines of the stanza describe the way that the thief, with a 'gloved hand', opens the door of a bedroom where a stranger is sleeping. 'Mirrors' is a single word sentence that continues the thread of words beginning with 'm'. He ends with a description of his sigh, 'Aah,' which is set in italics for emphasis, as he sees the reflection of someone asleep.

Stanza four returns to the occasion of stealing the snowman: 'It took some time.' The thief 'reassembled' the snowman in his own garden, but it looked different. He decided to kick it and break it, showing a streak of vandalism: 'I took a run / and booted him. Again. Again.' The repetition of 'Again' in one-word sentences stresses his determination and also gives the impression that he was starting to lose control of himself. The alliterative description 'My breath ripped out / in rags' emphasises desperation, and the idea of rags underlines the destructive act. Looking back, the thief realises that it was a senseless thing to do: 'It seems daft now', but this sentence makes us feel that at the time the thief was completely wrapped up in his desire to destroy the snowman. The stanza ends once again with a simple sentence, 'I was sick of the world.' The thief does not seem to have been capable of any positive thoughts, or any optimism.

The fifth and final stanza opens with another one-word sentence: 'Boredom.' That seems to be what pushes the narrator to steal, and he continues 'Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.' This is a person who cannot find anything constructive to do with his time. He then says that he once stole a guitar and considered learning to play it. He obviously didn't do so, but it is the only positive idea that he mentions during the poem. 'I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, / flogged it' means that he stole the bust and sold it. The words 'nicked' and 'flogged' are reminiscent of the slang in line 13, and form a sharp contrast with the literary connotations of an object representing Shakespeare. In the penultimate line, the thief remarks again that the snowman was the strangest thing he ever stole. The poem ends with the question 'You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?' It creates a feeling of alienation and implies that the person he is talking to will not be able to see his point of view or help him to overcome his compulsion to steal.

Duffy has composed 'Stealing' in five regular stanzas of five lines each, and the fact that the third stanza moves away from the theft of the snowman but the fourth stanza returns to it gives the poem a certain symmetry. The use of enjambment where one line runs through to the next to create a fuller description contrasts effectively with the abrupt, one-word sentences dotted here and there. Rhyme is used in an unusual way as in 'slice of ice', and slang phrases give a sense of genuine conversation.

The narrator here, the thief, is a cold-hearted character who gets a thrill out of depriving people of their belongings and even upsetting children. His life has obviously been hard and the fact that he refers to boredom probably means that he is unemployed. Duffy has portrayed a character that, as hard-hearted as he is, needs help from the society that he cannot conform to.


Salome, by Carol Ann Duffy

Two references in the New Testament of the Bible, in the Gospels according to Mark and Matthew, give us the background to the character of Salome. Briefly, she danced for King Herod who was so delighted that he said he would give Salome whatever she asked for. Salome, prompted by her mother Herodias, asked for the head of John the Baptist, who had said that Herodias' marriage to Herod was unlawful. Herod had no choice but to send an executioner to John the Baptist, who was in prison. His head was brought to Salome 'in a dish', and she presented it to her mother.

In her poem “Salome”, Carol Ann Duffy adopts the persona of the dancer, but she doesn't sound like a biblical character at all. The impression is of a contemporary girl or young woman. The narrator tells us at the start of the poem 'I'd done it before' and says she will probably do it again: do what again? Salome has woken up with a head on the pillow next to her, and she doesn't even know whose it is. She doesn't seem to think that's important, either. It may not sound too out of the ordinary; people might have too much to drink and not remember what happened when they wake up the next morning. Salome tells us that the man is 'Good-looking' with 'dark hair'; so far, so good. Then, however, she says that the hair is 'rather matted' and that the beard is a lighter shade of red than it had been. It begins to sound as though the head is blood stained. Salome goes on to say that the 'deep lines around the eyes' could be caused by laughter, but she thinks more likely by pain. His mouth is 'crimson', another sign of blood. When she kisses his lips, they are 'Colder than pewter', a simile that tells us that he is dead. She tries to remember his name: 'Peter?' ends the first stanza.

Duffy links the second stanza with the first by opening it with more possible names: “Simon? Andrew? John?” They are all names of Jesus' disciples, and this is the first direct biblical reference. Salome then turns to her need to treat her hangover, wanting tea with 'dry toast'. The fact that she 'rang for a maid' makes it clear that she is from a high-class family. (Salome was the step-daughter of King Herod.) When the maid comes up with breakfast, Salome appreciates the 'innocent clatter' of the crockery, the tidying up, and the maid's conversation, described as her 'regional' patter. The second stanza closes with Salome's admission that she has a hangover and is in a dreadful state after a night on the tiles: 'wrecked as I was from a night on the batter.'

The third stanza opens with the brief but clear announcement 'Never again!' The focus now switches to Salome's determination to 'clean up' her act. She is determined to get fit, as well as to give up alcohol ('booze'), cigarettes ('fags') and sex – a cluster of three. As her thoughts turn to sex, she realises that she has to 'turf out' the man she slept with the previous night. She refers to him initially as the 'blighter', giving the impression of a nuisance, then the 'beater or biter', alluding to either physical violence or sexual perversion, perhaps. The stanza ends with the description that he had come to bed 'like a lamb to the slaughter', a simile that has biblical connotations and is ironic as he has in fact been killed.

The fourth and final stanza, which is also the shortest, begins with Salome looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes 'glitter' – is it from a thought in her mind, or could it even be tears? She makes a sudden action, flinging back the sheets that are 'sticky red' with blood. Her comment on what she sees is 'ain't life a bitch', but actually it seems that Salome herself is the bitch. In the poem's closing line, she reveals that under the sheets is the man's head 'on a platter', just the way that John the Baptist's head had been brought to Salome.

One of the most striking elements of the poem “Salome” is Duffy's skilful use of language. There are alliterative phrases, such as 'clatter / of cups', 'clearing of clutter' and 'the blighter / the beater or biter', the last of which are also half rhymes. Running throughout the poem is a series of words ending in '-er': 'lighter', 'laughter' and 'pewter', for example, in the first stanza; these are also half rhymes. Others are complete rhymes but are dotted around in the poem: 'matter', 'flatter', 'clatter', 'batter', 'latter', and the final word 'platter'. Duffy avoids a restricting, traditional rhyming pattern, but the use of rhyme here and there throughout creates a unity, like a thread running through. Some of these words, such as 'clutter' and 'clatter' are also onomatopoeic. They add to the poem's fast rhythm which is in keeping with Salome's coldness or lack of emotion. The four stanzas are all of different lengths, and the lines vary between short, medium and long quite randomly. It is as though thoughts are popping in and out of Salome's mind as she deals with her hangover and flits from one pattern of thought to another. Duffy uses ellipsis twice in the first stanza, 'how to flatter …' to create a pause; she also uses enjambment here and there to extend an idea or a description.

Salome” is a poem that shocks by the narrator's flippant attitude, and Duffy achieves this effect perfectly. The language itself is informal, contemporary and includes a few slang phrases such as 'a night on the batter' or 'ain't life a bitch'. Above all, the combination of the poem's rhythm and Duffy's skilful use of rhyme and half rhyme throughout the poem give an almost humorous tone to the dark theme. “Salome” paints a picture of decadence, of a dancer who has revelled in nights filled with alcohol, smoking and sex. Just when she realises the error of her ways and decides things will have to change, she discovers the severed head under the sheets. Duffy brings the poem to a dramatic conclusion, saving this image for the final line.