Robert Lowel

& John Berryman Essay, Research Paper

Lowell and Berryman

Robert Lowell and John Berryman both used their personal experiences as visuals

in their writings. Their styles are similar in that aspect. Robert Lowell’s poem “The

Drunken Fisherman” tells a story about himself fishing, and describes the seen in great

detail. “Of Suicide”, written by John Berryman, is an autobiographical poem about how

depressed he is. Berryman’s work describes in detail what he thinks about and what was

going on in his life at that moment making him feel so depressed.

“The Drunken Fisherman” by Robert Lowell is a poem based on a specific

instance, when the writer was fishing.

THE DRUNKEN FISHERMAN

Wallowing in this bloody sty,

I cast for fish that pleased my eye

(Truly Jehovah’s bow suspends

No pots of gold to weight its ends);

Only the blood mouthed rainbow trout

Rose to my bait. They flopped about

My canvas creel until the moth

Corrupted its unstable cloth.

The first part of the poem explains what he is doing. The writer is fishing for

rainbow trout because he likes the way it looks. Lowell states that he is not fishing for

money, rather he is fishing for rainbow trout, a fish that likes the taste of blood. When he

catches a fish, he puts it in his canvas pouch where it flops about until it is dead.

A calendar to tell the day

A handkerchief to wave away

The gnats; a couch unstuffed with storm

Pouching a bottle in one arm;

A whisky bottle full of worms;

And bedroom slacks: are these fit terms

To mete the worm whose molten rage

boils in the belly of old age?

This part of the poem describes the physical appearance of the subject. He has a

calendar to tell what day it is, a handkerchief to swat at the gnats. He is sitting on, or

could possibly be, like a couch that is old and weathered. He sits with a bottle of whisky

in one arm, and another empty bottle filled with worms in the other. His attire consists of

simple, worn pajamas. He asks if this these terms are good enough to be fishing with

worms, in his old age.

Once fishing was a rabbits foot-

O wind blow cold, O wind blow hot,

Let suns stay in or suns step out:

Life danced a jig on the sperm-whale’s spout-

The fisher’s fluent and obscene

Catches kept his conscience clean.

Children, the raging memory drools

Over the glory of past pools.

He says that fishing used to be good luck. Weather it was hot or cold and in day

or night, you could always catch a fish to eat. He goes on to tell how people exploited

fishing, particularly the sperm-whale, saying that fishermen used to catch a lot in order to

keep there conscious clean of the harm they were doing, so that the money they were

making out weighed the guilt. But there children will never be able to escape the memory

of the harm their parents caused just for glory.

Now the hot river, ebbing, hauls

Its bloody waters into holes;

A grain of sand inside my shoe

Mimics the moon that might undo

Man and Creation too; remorse,

Stinking, has puddled up its source;

Here tantrums thrash to a wale’s rage.

This is the pot-hole of old age.

The hot river of blood flows back to the sea, it waters into holes in the earth like a

grain of sand that doesn’t really mater any more, its just part of the world. It is a part of

man and creation that has been plugged up time after time, but that will never stop the

rage of the whale. The last line of this stanza brings you back to the seen that was set

before, of an old man sitting in his old age.

Is there no way to cast my hook

Out of this dynamited brook?

The Fisher’s sons must cast about

When shallow waters peter about.

I will catch Christ with a greased worm,

And when the Prince of Darkness stalks

My bloodstream to its stygian term…

On water the Man-Fisher walks.

He asks if there is any way to get out of the life that he has created for himself, he

only hopes that his children can find another way. He will find salvation in fishing while he

awaits his death. Death comes in all shapes and sizes, his will come in the form of a

Man-Fisher. You reap what you sow.

John Berryman’s “ Of Suicide” is a poem that was obviously written when the

author was contemplating suicide. He uses his personal life to identify with the reader. The

imagery of the poem suggests instances in your own life not necessarily his.

Of Suicide

Reflections on suicide, & on my father, possess me.

I drink too much. My wife threatens separation.

She won’t ‘nurse’ me. She feels ‘inadequate’.

We Don’t mix together.

The start of the poem is the basis for everything to come. He is thinking about

suicide and his father who killed himself outside his son’s window by shooting himself in

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