We've Been Hatin'

Of the many poems we have traversed throughout this year, my favorite was one of our first.  "Winter in the Summer House," by Robert N. Watson, had fascinating imagery, sweet metaphors, and IT DOESN'T RHYME.  I don't know if anyone remembers my assertion that I "hate rhyming poetry" from the beginning of the year.  While studying a fair amount of poetry with rhyme schemes has made me appreciate both forms, I still prefer the flow of non-rhyming poetry.  However, that's not my sole reason for liking "Winter in the Summer House."  I swear.

The sense of loneliness that Watson conveys in his poem really struck a chord with me, since the subject of the poem brought it on himself.  He ignored the women who could have loved him, and so he remains alone.   In Othello Emilia expresses the desire to "Let husbands know/ Their wives have sense like them" (Shakespeare 4.3.96-97)  In the same way that the characters in Othello see a demise in their relationships due to miscommunication, the subject of Watson's poem feels the ill effects of a past relationship ruined.

For some reason, a lot of what we've read this year has to do with romantic relationships of the dysfunctional variety.  "There is love, and then there is love," and the second type tends to lend itself to crazy (Currie 223).  Even the supposedly high-class characters of The Importance of Being Earnest have dysfunctional views.  However, the problems in these relationships all come from the men.  Cecily complains how "men are so cowardly," and blames them entirely for all that has gone wrong (Wilde 40).

Basically, we seem to really hate on men in AP English.  In our literature, they make stupid mistakes, Bunbury, steal plums, lie about their names, hear voices, and kill their wives.  Even the poor lonely man in "Winter in the Summer House" doesn't escape criticism, despite the fact that his current existence is completely depressing.  Basically, the assumption seems to be that it's a man's own fault if he's alone, because obviously he made some mistake.  It's not even like we're reading a bunch of feminist authors, since the majority of our books and poems were written by men.

Anyway, props to our small handful of AP English males who have stuck through all of this.  I'm sorry that our literature hates you.

I Googled "manliest picture ever," and I got Ron Burgundy.  I thought it was appropriate for the moment.  So to make up for all of the man-hating we've done, here is the manliest picture I could find in five seconds.