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Seamus Heaney- "Blackberry Picking"

'Blackberry-Picking'
by

Sara Rodríguez Arias

on 12 April 2013

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Transcript of Seamus Heaney- "Blackberry Picking"

by Seamus Heaney ` Blackberry-Picking ´ Poem, and rhythm What critics say - Nobel Prize in Literature ( 1995 )
- The Golden Wreath of Poetry ( 2001 )
- T. S. Eliot Prize ( 2006 )
- Two Whitebread prizes ( 1996, and 1999 ) Heaney's Prizes A deep analysis IMAGERY Literary Devices Late August, given heavy rain and sun A
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. A
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot B
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. B
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet C
Like thickened wine: summer’s blood was in it C
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for D
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger D
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots E
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots. E
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills F
We trekked and picked until the cans were full F
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered G
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned G
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered H
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard’s. H
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre. I
But when the bath was filled we found a fur, I
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache. J
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush J
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour. K
I always felt like crying. It wasn’t fair K
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot. L
Each year I hoped they’d keep, knew they would not. L Sara Rodríguez Arias It is a poem that is published in the collection: ' Death of a Naturalist ' in 1966.
The metter: an iambic pentameter.
The rhyme : half rhymes, very peculiar ( a consonant sound in common) Heaney's Life - Was born in April 1939 at Mossbawn farmhouse, Ireland
- He is a poet, playwright, translator, and a lecturer.
- His father, Patrick worked in a small farm of 50 acres ( His dealing was to catle-dealing ) , and his mother, Sarah, worked as a maid for the local Linen Mill .
- He attended Anahorish Primary School.
- In 1957, Heaney travelled to Belfast in order to study English Language and Literature at Queen's University Belfast.
Once he graduated, Heaney contributed with various articles to local magazines.
- He was a rethoric teacher at Harvard, and Poetry at Oxford. HE IS ALIVE,
(73 YEARS) Where did he work? - Oxford.
- Harvard.
- He was made a ' commandeur de l' Ordre des Arts et Lettres' in 1996. Where can we find the main topics? Most important Topics Heaney's Topics The Bluebeard: The Bluebeard Bluebeard: official Trailer THINGS TO CONSIDER: CHILDHOOD EXPERIENCE YOUTH HOPE CHILDHOOD ADULT / ELDER AGE Sara Rodríguez Arias Created by DESIRES THE TRASIENCE OF THE THINGS MORTALITY BELIEF SACRIFICE TRADITION TEMPTATION GREED LUST Lines: 1 and 2: ' late August, given heavy rain and sun for a full week, the blackberries would ripen ' ---> Experience Lines: 3 and 4: ' at first, just one, a glossy purple clot. Among others, red, green, hard as a knot ' ---> The process of maduration. It represents youth, (taking into account the process of maduration, and how the colour changes through the different stages of life), and hope. Lines: 5 and 6: ' you ate that first one and its flesh was sweet like thickened wine; summer's blood was in it' ---> Temptation, but also it represents the Eucharist. (Wine: the blood of Christ; flesh: human flesh, and blood ) Lines 7 and 8: ' leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for picking' --> Temptation, sex, and it is related to the Eucharist. Lines 8, 9 and 10: ' then the red ones inked up and that hunger sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots' --> Passion, sexual desire. Lines 10, 11, 12, 13 , and 14: ' where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots. Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills. We trekked and picked until the cans were full until the tinkling bottom had been covered with green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned like a plate of eyes' ---> Hopes and desires Lines 14, 15 and 16: ' our hands were peppered with thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's '---> Greed, lust and hopes Lines 17, 18 and 19: ' we hoarded the fresh berries in the byre. But when the bath was filled we found a fur, a rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache '---> Inmortality, the wish of being young. Lines 20, 21, 22, 23 and 24: ' the juice was stinking too. Once of the bush the fruit fermented, the sweeter flesh would turn sour. I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair that all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot. Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not' ---> Getting old with the passing of years, (the dying process) Line: 16---> With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's. We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre. In what consists the bluebeard in the poem? The red colour of blackberry, and the blood of Bluebeard's wives. (Simile) YOUTH My personal opinion through cartoons What critics say: what critics say: What Critics say: The narrator knows that good things come to an end, and he cannot be a child all his life, but he has memories; those memories of the past which help him to calm his hunger for being young all his life. ( 'Everything decays and nothing lasts forever ' )

Even, the tone in the different stanzas is not the same. In the first stanza, words such as ' sweet' is being mention in order to refer to childhood. Sticky : to refer to blackberries, and how the poet enjoyed picking up blackberries, and the second stanza give us a sense of death Finally, we can conclude that when we are younger, we are more ambicious and we are so excited for picking blackberries that we do not realise that we should be patient, and wait for blackberries can grow. Children are anxious, and they pick green, red, and all kind of blackberry. The moral message is that if you want to pick up a blackberry, you should wait for that blackberry can grow, and how can it grow? Because of experience and the passing of years ( in order to select the best blackberries ) Final Analysis DICTION METAPHORS SIMILES 'you ate the first one and its flesh was sweet like thickened wine' ( Lines 5 and 6 ) ' We trekked and picked until the cans were full'
( Line 12 ) ' The sweet flesh would turn sour ' ( Line 21 ) ' Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not ' ( Line 24 ) ONOMATOPOEIA ' Tinkling bottom ' ( Line 13 ) ' With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's ' ( Line 16 ) ' A rat-grey fungus ' ( Line 19 ) ' I always felt like crying. It wasn’t fair ' ( Line 22 ) ' Lovely canfuls smelt of rot ' ( Line 23 ) ' The Blackberrries would ripen ' ( Line 2 ) ' Red, green, hard as a knot ' ( Line 4 ) ' Red, green, hard as a knot ' ( Line 4 ) ' You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet ' ( Line 5 ) ' Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking ' ( Lines 7 and 8 ) ' Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots ' ( Lines 8, 9 and 10 )
' Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes ' ( Lines 11 - 15 ) ' Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes ' ( Lines 11 - 15 ) ' Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache ' ( Lines 15 - 19 ) . ' It wasn't fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not ' ( Lines 22, 23, and 24 ) ' Sweet like a thickened wine ' ( Lines 5 and 6 ) ' Leave stains upon the tongue ' ( Line 7 ) ' Out with milk cans, pea tins, jam pots ' ( Line 9 ) ' The briars that scratched and the wet grass that bleached their boots ' ( Line 10 ) ' I always felt like crying ' ( Line 23 ) .' It wasn't fair ' ( Line 23 ) Helen Vendler considered Heaney as: ' the Irish poet whose pen has been the conscience of his country ' Critics were impressed by ' his freshness and command of detail ,also by his imaginative quality experienced through ordinary life events' ' He is acclaimed as one of the foremost poets of his generation' He is compared to poets such as: ' Derek Mahon, Michael Longley, Michael Harnett, and Ted Hughes' According to critics: ' Heaney's later poems continue to address the unrest in Northern Ireland, and they incorporate a more personal tone as Heaney depicts the loss of friends and relatives to the violence ' Heaney is considered ' the finest poet since W. B. Yeats ' His work is judged, and often considered superior to, that of a presumed super-league of poets in English from formerly colonised countries; a super-league including the West Indian Derek Walcott and the Australian Les Murray. This poem is a reflection of Hardy's life, especially when he picked blackberries in Summer ( During his childhood ) Furthermore, the emotional changes that are produced in human beings: from joy to disappointment. From innocence, and magical moments to the real world where suffering is almost a lifestyle Also, it is interesting how picking the blackberries is related to a ' murder ' because blackberries are red. In order to have something to eat, you commit a murder to blackberries, and this thought evokes a kind of desperation in childhood. These children who pick up blackberries are innocent, and they do not know what they are doing, but they love, and adore acting in this way His confrontation between the past and the present emerges him in those melancholic moments where you realise that ' time flies ' ( Carpe diem ) The time is important in the first, and second stanza. In the first stanza, Heaney focuses on childhood, and those happy moments, and the second stanza, he talks about a near death, how bodies make older, and older At the end, he realises that nothing in life can last forever. Nothing is permanent we are in constant changes
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