Carrion Comfort by Gerard Manley Hopkins Essay -- Carrion Comfort Hopk

Carrion Comfort by Gerard Manley HopkinsGerard Manley Hopkins was a talented poet, and he was also extremely devoted to his faith. He utilise his poetry as an avenue in which to express his love and cheers to his Creator, and many of his poems are beautiful hymns of adoration. Carrion Comfort, however, is one of his terrible sonnets. Hopkins not except wrote about the beautiful part of faith, but also the questioning and unworthy that inevitably comes during a persons spiritual journey. The Petrarchan or Italian sonnet was one of Hopkinss favorite forms of poetry and one that he employed frequently in his writing. Hopkins enjoyed the fusion of form and content, and the structure of an Italian sonnet perfectly lends itself to such a synthesis. An Italian sonnet is dual-lane into ii parts, the octave and the sestet. The first eight lines have an ABBAABBA rhyme stratagem and the sestet concludes with CDCDCD. The content of an Italian sonnet is very specific eithery and th ematically organized as is the content of Hopkinss Carrion Comfort. The octave is divided into two quatrains, which present and then develop, respectively, a problem or situation on which the poem focuses. The sestet relates the answer or solution to the problem. The novelty surrounded by the two sections of the poem can be easily identified by dramatic punctuation, or a distinct change in tone. The octave in Carrion Comfort powerfully illustrates intense poor and despair experience by the speaker. Hopkins masterfully depicts the transformation from the utter despair caused by this suffering to hope and reconciliation with God as he makes a transition into the sestet. Throughout the poem, Hopkins uses various poetic elements, such as th... ...feast on theenot untwist--slack they may be--these last strands of manIn me or, most weary, cry I can no more. I canCan something, hope, wish mean solar day come, not choose not to be.But ah, but O metre terrible, why wouldst tho u rude on meThy wring-world right foot sway? lay a lionlimb against me? ScanWith darksome devouring eyes my bruised bones? and fan,O in turns of tempest, me heaped there me frantic to avoid thee and flee?Why? That my razz might fly my grain lie, sheer and clear.Nay in all that toil, that coil, since (seems) I kissed the rod,Hand rather, my heart lo lapped strength, stole joy, would laugh, cheer.Cheer whom though? The submarine whose heaven-handling flung me, foot trodMe? or me that fought him? O which one? is it each one? That night, that courseOf now done darkness I wretch lay grappler with (my God) my God.