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Poetry - How to Write the Essay - Focus on Larkin - Aoife's Notes

Poetry - How to Write the Essay - Focus on Larkin - Aoife's Notes

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Addditi<strong>on</strong>al Reading:<br />

¹September 24, 2001, The New Yorker<br />

by Anth<strong>on</strong>y Lane<br />

“This is Not a Movie.”<br />

[Final paragraph]<br />

“We gazed upward, or at our TV screens, and we couldn’t believe our eyes; but maybe our<br />

eyes had been lied <str<strong>on</strong>g>to</str<strong>on</strong>g> for l<strong>on</strong>g enough. Thousands died <strong>on</strong> September 11th, and <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g>y died for<br />

real; but thousands died <str<strong>on</strong>g>to</str<strong>on</strong>g>ge<str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g>r, and <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g>refore something lived. The most important, if<br />

distressing, images <str<strong>on</strong>g>to</str<strong>on</strong>g> emerge from those hours are not of <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g> raging <str<strong>on</strong>g>to</str<strong>on</strong>g>wers, or of <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g><br />

vacuum where <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g>y <strong>on</strong>ce s<str<strong>on</strong>g>to</str<strong>on</strong>g>od; it is <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g> shots of people falling from <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g> ledges, and, in<br />

particular, of two people jumping in tandem. It is impossible <str<strong>on</strong>g>to</str<strong>on</strong>g> tell, from <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g> blur, what age<br />

or sex <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g>se two are, nor does that matter. What matters is <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g> <strong>on</strong>e thing we can see for sure:<br />

<str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g>y are falling hand in hand. Think of Philip <strong>Larkin</strong>’s poem about <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g> s<str<strong>on</strong>g>to</str<strong>on</strong>g>ne figures carved<br />

<strong>on</strong> an English <str<strong>on</strong>g>to</str<strong>on</strong>g>mb, and <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g> “sharp tender shock” of noticing that <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g>y are holding hands.<br />

The final line of <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g> poem has become a celebrated c<strong>on</strong>dolence, and last Tuesday — in<br />

uncounted ways, in final ph<strong>on</strong>e calls, in <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g> joined hands of that couple, in circumstances<br />

that Hollywood should no l<strong>on</strong>ger try <str<strong>on</strong>g>to</str<strong>on</strong>g> match — it was proved true all over again, and, in so<br />

doing, it calmly c<strong>on</strong>quered <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g> loathing and rage in which <str<strong>on</strong>g>the</str<strong>on</strong>g> crime was c<strong>on</strong>ceived. ‘What<br />

will survive of us is love’.”<br />

Aoife O’Driscoll 2011 Page 19

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