I wrote a villanelle* for my youngest nephew on the occasion of his 16th birthday. I searched and searched for it, but couldn’t find it anywhere. I do remember, because of the first few lines I wrote and the villainous rhyme scheme of villanelles, that I was challenged to find words that rhyme with “oyster.” Three I remember using were “cloister,” “moister" and "roister."
Although I was unsuccessful in finding that villanelle, my search did turn up a list of things I wanted to incorporate or turn into short stories. One was an anecdote recounted to me by a former coworker: “Grandmother going through menopause during Lord’s Prayer in church one Sunday. Could precisely time the event because she had one hot flash and that was it.”
*Some notes on villanelles (directly lifted from Wikipedia):
With reference to the form's repetition of lines, Philip K. Jason suggests that the "villanelle is often used, and properly used, to deal with one or another degree of obsession"[24] citing Sylvia Plath's "Mad Girl's Love Song" amongst other examples. He notes the possibility for the form to evoke, through the relationship between the repeated lines, a feeling of dislocation and a "paradigm for schizophrenia".[24] This repetition of lines has been considered to prevent villanelles from possessing a "conventional tone"[25] and that instead they are closer in form to a song or lyric poetry.[25] Stephen Fry opines that the villanelle "is a form that seems to appeal to outsiders, or those who might have cause to consider themselves as such", having a "playful artifice" which suits "rueful, ironic reiteration of pain or fatalism".[26] (In spite of this, the villanelle has also often been used for light verse, as for instance Louis Untermeyer's "Lugubrious Villanelle of Platitudes".[27][28])
On the relationship between form and content, Anne Ridler notes in an introduction to her own poem "Villanelle for the Middle of the Way" a point made by T. S. Eliot, that "to use very strict form is a help, because you concentrate on the technical difficulties of mastering the form, and allow the content of the poem a more unconscious and freer release".[29] In an introduction to his own take on the form, entitled "Missing Dates", William Empson suggests that while the villanelle is a "very rigid form", nonetheless W. H. Auden—in his long poem The Sea and the Mirror—had "made it sound absolutely natural like the innocent girl talking".[30]
What Eliot said! I love villanelles, but I'm not sure I've ever written one. I so wish I could read your villainous one.
ReplyDeleteI have never heard of this form. Hmm.
ReplyDeleteMy mother's menopause was like that. boom.
"Do not go gentle into that good night" is a villanelle (a word Spellcheck wants to turn into Evansville).
DeleteCloister, moister and roister! It sounds familiar. You didn't publish it on Procrastinitus Interruptus, did you?
ReplyDeleteOh, maybe I did... thanks Mali, didn't even think of looking for it there.
ReplyDeleteWhen I arrive late to the discussion, again, I'm impressed by both Helen's writing AND the conversation that always follows. I'm the woman at the table next to Dorothy Parker's, eavesdropping.
ReplyDeleteWhat Kim said. I'm just along to eavesdrop, having nothing worth adding to the conversation but enjoying what the rest of you have to say.
ReplyDeleteSmiling now.
ReplyDeleteEavesdropping weeks later, here.
ReplyDelete