My English Teacher Was Wrong

Red wheelbarrow

The Old Red Wheelbarrow by Cal KT / CC BY 2.0

So much depends

A red wheel

-William Carlos Williams

My high school English teacher got it wrong. I don’t remember the conclusion of her poemical dissection. Perhaps is was this criticism, this analysis, that analysis or this idea. But which ever she espoused, she was wrong.

Does this mean I’m venturing into poetry/literary criticism? Crap. I hated this in school.

I feel like a pompous blowhard, but, lately, the first two stanzas of the poem come to mind when I start writing Julia. So much depends upon this next scene: the course of the story.

I choose to believe that Williams was just writing down a literary fact. For a poet or author, so much can depend upon something so seemingly small. If Stanza A doesn’t use the right word, if Character B doesn’t respond correctly or if Action C doesn’t occur at the correct time, all is for naught. The story won’t work; the poem won’t flow.

So much depends

Julia’s next

Apologies to WCW.


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