[Glenn Wright]

Clodia

Pouring her apology, slow and careful,
bringing it to me like a bowl of acid,
tears aglint, she offers her deep contrition,
if I’ll accept it.

Well-composed, devoid of excuses, lacking
sly attempts to charge her own blame to my tab,
sounding practiced. Surely, he must have helped her,
coached her to sell it.

I won’t say I wasn’t dismayed and wounded,
having kissed that mouth that had lied so sweetly,
learning they must both have been so amused by
how I was suckered.

What’s the difference whether her grief is real or
phony? Her apology false or honest?
Such betrayal simply cannot be pardoned—
not if she begged me.

Pausing, looking up at me, hopeful, searching,
then a smile disfigures her trembling lip, and
there it is! She thinks she has charmed me, fooled me.
Laughing, I show her

how inconsequential her words, how worthless,
letting all the acid she brought to splash me
slosh onto the fingers and arms with which she
hotly embraced me.

————————
Edits:
S1L2: like a bowl of acid that could do harm, she > she presents herself like a bowl of acid, > carrying herself like a bowl of acid, > bringing it to me like a bowl of acid,
S1L3: offers me her sorrow . . . > offering her sorrow, her teardrops gleaming, > tears aglint, she offers her deepest sorrow, > tears aglint, she offers her deep contrition,
S2L1: well-composed, quite free of excuses, . . . > Well-composed, devoid of excuses, . . .
S2L3: sounding practiced. Surely he must have . . .> sounding practiced. Surely, he must have . . .
S3L2: learning what she did—or that I felt nothing > learning what she did—or that I felt nothing, > having kissed that mouth that had lied so sweetly,
S3L3: knowing how they must . . . > knowing they must both . . . > learning they must both
S4L1: I don’t care now whether her grief is real or > What’s the difference whether her grief is real or
S4L2: phony, seeing clearly her jaded features. > phony? False or honest, her jaded features? > phony? Her apology false or honest?
S4L3: Her betrayal . . . > Such betrayal . . .
S5L1: Pausing, she looks up at me, hopeful, searching. > Pausing, looking up at me, hopeful, searching,
S5L2: Then . . . > then . . .
S5L3: I can see, she thinks she has fooled me once more. > there it is! She thinks she has charmed me, fooled me.
S6L1: how inconsequential her words are to me, > how inconsequential her words, how worthless,
S6L2: letting all the acid she’d brought to splash me > letting all the acid she brought to splash me
S6L3: slosh onto the fingers and arms she used to > slosh onto the fingers and arms with which she
S6L4: hotly embrace me. > hotly embraced me.

[Mark McDonnell]

Hi Glenn,

I'm finding quite a few of the lines here have to be unnaturally forced into the sapphic metre. I know that reading any strongly metred poem will always involve that little unconscious adjustment and cooperation between the ordinary "prose reading" voice and the voice you use knowing you are reading a particular metre. But it shouldn't be a struggle. Once I realised this was sapphics, I tried to read it as such and found that by the end I hadn't taken in much of the actual content of the story you are telling.

One example:

I can see, she thinks she has fooled me once more.
Laughing, I show her

how inconsequential her words are to me,


The adonic works. In fact, all the adonics work. But can you see how this sounds unnatural? Why would "I" be stressed like that? It sounds like you are differentiating yourself from someone else ("I can see it but can they?") "I" is a difficult word to start a sapphic line, I think, for this reason and you use it three times here. The voice naturally wants to stress whatever word comes after the "I"*. Also, "once more" with "once" stressed doesn't sound right. Nor does "to me". The last two syllables really have to be a natural trochee.

I try not to be the metre wanker (co. Ann Drysdale) but with sapphics I think it really matters. It's such an unusual, potentially artificial sounding construction that I think you do it right or not at all and if you mess it up the whole thing falls apart. This starts falling apart on L2. It puts itself back together again a few times, then falls apart again a few more and by the end I was exhausted haha.

I read it a second time, forgetting about metre and that was a different story. But I kind of don't want to say anything about the poem until you either perfect or abandon the sapphics.

Mark

Edit: Also, I keep reading L2 as "like a bowl of acid that could do no harm" because "a bowl of acid that could do harm" seems such a redundant thing to say. As opposed to all those harmless bowls of acid we have lying around? This seems like an example of trying to stretch the line to fit the metre and as a result getting neither right.

Edit 2: Take another look at Rick's poem at The Deep End. Look at his line openings and endings. I just read it again. The only possible metre-wanker point I could have made might be in "tickets to the Teenage Patrolman’s Breakfast" the "to" doesn't naturally need to be stressed. But by the penultimate line I was in the zone and didn't notice (till now when I was combing it for nits ha).

* Mary Meriam did get away with it for the line "I could go downhill in a sled with sorrow"

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Mark—

Thanks for taking the time, yet again, to explain very clearly how I might improve my work. I am a retired English/Latin teacher, so I was familiar with Sapphic stanzas as something to be taught, but this is my first foray into writing in this challenging mode.

I made several changes to address the issues you raised. I hope they make the poem not only more presentable metrically, but also clarify the dramatic situation. I really appreciate your efforts and encouragement.

Glenn

[Mark McDonnell]

Well, that was quick! Maybe a bit too quick...But that's better already, yes. I would still do something about

"she presents herself like a bowl of acid"

which I still want to read as starting with 2 unstressed syllables. And it's so early in the poem.

And similarly for "Her betrayal" in S4. What about "Such betrayal"? It would fit with the drawing room melodrama vibe that I'm starting to get.

I'm glad to help, Glenn, and thanks for the appreciation. I've only written two of these things. One's been published. But I remember them being some of the best sheer fun I've had writing poetry and I remember how happy I was when I knew I was getting it. I should try another...

[Carl Copeland]

Glenn, I’ve been enjoying learning the mechanics of Sapphic meter along with you. Rick is a great example and Mark a great tutor. For a change, here are a few minor non-metrical nits:

There should be a comma after “Surely” and another at the end of S3L2.

I’d prefer “or” to “and” in S3L1.

Since the N is speaking in the present, “she brought,” in the simple past, would do better in S6L2.

I consulted Wikipedia on Clodia, but can’t figure out who the N is or what incident is being recounted. Judging from her reputation, I suppose it could be any of a number of lovers she betrayed, including Catullus, and the coach would have been her brother. “Deepest sorrow” and “grief,” however, imply a death, and the only death she was implicated in, according to the article, was that of her husband. I’m also unsure why she brought a figurative bowl of acid to splash the N if she meant to charm him. Her backup plan?

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Carl—

Agreed about Rick and Mark! I made your suggested changes, except I’m keeping “and” in S3L1 in order to avoid repeating “or” in adjacent lines.

The speaker could be any of the boy-toys that Clodia collected. The criticism of her apology in S2 suggests a literary background, and I’m guessing that her confederate in writing the apology might be the next boyfriend, probably a friend of the speaker. If the speaker is Catullus, the confederate might have been Marcus Caelius Rufus, whom Catullus accuses of betrayal in Carmen 69 and Carmen 77. Her confederate could also have been her brother, Publius Clodius Pulcher. He would not have hesitated to use his sister’s amorous exploits to further his own political goals.

In Carmen 11, one of the two poems by Catullus composed in Sapphic stanzas, he writes about his final breakup with Lesbia, whom virtually all scholars believe was Clodia. In this poem he compares himself to a flower crushed by a passing plow, suggesting, perhaps, that he was cast aside in order to accommodate the political necessities of the powerful Clodian family. This poem always bothered me, because it makes Catullus seem so weak. I wanted him to go out fighting.

[Deborah J. Shore]

Hi Glenn,


You were quick to the pen for Rick's challenge!

I do like how "Laughing, I show her" works as a modern idiom, although in that case, it would be more natural and expressive to be stressing the "I"... so maybe it doesn't work on that level after all.

I'm only familiar with soundbytes of Cattallus, so take my response with a grain of salt. I'm quite unconvinced by the bowl of acid similie and by some details in the sequence of feelings/thoughts. Possibly an epigraph would help.

The place that metrically jarred me is:

I won’t say I wasn’t dismayed and wounded,
learning what she did—or that I felt nothing,

It's not just that we have to know to force the meter; this is common enough in English sapphics. But especially when an "I" is metrically stressed it wants to take on dramatic purpose, and that expressive purpose does not seem to be here. Incidentally, feeling nothing seems to be at odds with being dismayed and wounded. I guess maybe you're trying to say that the speaker is dismayed that he was not intuitive about the matter, but that would be an ineffective way to present that idea.

"False or honest her jaded features?" hit me as awkward.

The novel metrical focus might presently be getting in the way, at times, of the precision of expressive thought that would elevate this. But it would seem (not knowing how long you labored at this) that you find the sapphic mode quite natural and could find a fruitful yield in it.

Deborah

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Deborah, and welcome to the ‘Sphere—

I made an adjustment to S1L2 that, I hope, clarifies the simile. It is the apology, not Clodia, that is like a bowl of acid. It has the potential of harming either or both of them in the process of being conveyed.

I am considering ways to recast S3. Mark warned in post #2 about using “I” in sapphics, especially in the first syllable of a line and you seconded that warning. Additionally, the double negative is confusing. The speaker is not claiming to have felt nothing. He is refusing to claim that he felt nothing, thus admitting to having felt something—presumably humiliation and rage.

Thank you for your well-considered critiques and for your encouragement.

Glenn

[Deborah J. Shore]

Oh, that was completely my bad about the nothing. I got lost in the trees for the forest while considering too many details, and deciding which ones to mention. But then I find the connection to the line that follows it awkward. Additionally, I would say that the reason why I didn’t connect the nothing phrase to the first line of that stanza is because of the first phrase in the second line. It seems grammatically unnatural not to say “after learning what she had done.” If you’re going to connect the first line to the second half of the second line. “Learning what she did” sets me up for a separate thought. But even if it was intended to be a separate thought, it still seems like awkward grammar to me. And this is what I mean by being lost in the trees of the forest. I didn’t really know which things to mention, all the moreso, since this wasn’t posted to the detailed critique board. But I don’t think the double Negative itself is the main reason that I had confusion there. If the sentence was flowing more naturally, that could follow. But then the transition to line 3 also needs to be fixed, IMO.

The new S1L2 is helpful!

But understanding this and WHY it would emotionally hurt her when she comes across as someone who just wants to manipulate feelings (whose emotional investment is minimal, because it’s really just narcissistic play) is so tricky: “It has the potential of harming either or both of them in the process of being conveyed.”

The used to hotly embrace me is confusing to me. I assume that what is really meant is “used to use to hotly embrace me,” but then it reads like an error. Maybe “once used.” And if it is not an error, I think we need a transition word.

S4L1-2 sounds like wording that one would not naturally use if it weren’t for the meter. But when it comes to the first sentence there, that might be my own sense of native idiom versus yours that makes it sound awkward. But for me to trip on the first sentence—and then for that to be followed by a repetition and inversion—took me out of the experience. If the first sentence read more naturally to me, I probably wouldn’t stumble, so much on repetition and inversion, which, after all, is part of the poetic canvas at times. But with it, I am just thinking to myself again that this is just to fit the meter.

Lots of caveats regarding my responses here for my lack of familiarity with Clodia! And kudos for suitably matching the meter to a subject of antiquity. I am really fond of the first two stanzas now and can see more of its potential. Good luck!

D

[Glenn Wright]

Hi Deborah—

After considering your concerns I made some further adjustments that I hope address them adequately. I think the revision reads more naturally, although possibly less passionately, which is not necessarily a bad thing.

The poem is metrically identical to Catullus’ Carmen XI—six sapphic stanzas. In this poem he makes his final break with “Lesbia,” the name he uses to refer to Clodia in his poems. The name honors Sappho, who lived on the isle of Lesbos and who (besides being the original Lesbian) is credited with inventing the Sapphic stanza. In my version of the break-up poem, Catullus, or whoever the narrator is, gets the better of Clodia. I felt like I was righting a long-standing injustice, although I’m sure Clodia has her version of events. Perhaps I’ll try telling her side of the story. Another detail about the “bowl of acid” is that Clodia was suspected, probably correctly, of poisoning her husband and first cousin, Quintus Metellus Celer, probably at the behest of her brother, with whom she was suspected of having an incestuous relationship. Additionally, in Cicero’s Pro Caelio, we learn that Clodia accuses Marcus Caelius Rufus (her most recent lover, former friend and betrayer of Catullus) of trying to poison her, so acid/poison and incest are recurring themes in her turbulent life.

Thanks again for your helpful and thoughtful suggestions.

Glenn