two poems and how they mirror each other

Robert Frost and Edwin Arlington Robinson capture the loneliness and isolation that can come from life in the modern world. In “Acquainted with the Night,” the speaker toys with self-obliteration, drawn to the darkness. He hides his fears and sadness, avoiding all contact with other people even when he passes them by. Similarly, Robinson’s titular Richard Cory struggles with despair and purposelessness to the degree that he does take his own life. Although the setting, tone, and style of their respective poems are different, Frost and Robinson both paint vivid portraits of depression. The speaker of “Acquainted with the Night” and Richard Cory of “Richard Cory” can be read as mirror images of one another, both presenting a face to the world that belies their inner angst.

For both Richard Cory and for Frost’s speaker, the light symbolizes the mask people present to the world and the darkness represents one’s inner demons. Frost uses imagery of light and darkness to signify the outward expression of self and the shadow self, respectively. Although Robinson does not use light as a motif, the word “glittered” is used to describe the wealthy Richard Cory. Cory’s wealth, power, and social status are his external self-expressions, the self that Cory presents to the world. His wealth and composure are essentially facades, given that he held deep inside self-hatred strong enough to commit suicide.

The speaker of “Acquainted with the Night” deliberately seeks out darkness so that others cannot see who he really is. Like Cory, he does not want the world to see his shadow self, so he hides it as best he can. While the speaker in Frost’s poem lacks the gold, glamor, and “imperially slim” appearance that Richard Cory has (Robinson line 4), he nevertheless does avoid eye contact as he walks. The speaker of “Acquainted with the Night” states that he “dropped his eyes, unwilling to explain” why he was wandering past the “furthest city light,” (Frost, line 6; line 3). Because they could not or would not face the truth about themselves, they also could not share their inner selves with the world. The reverse is also true: in not being honest or open with others, Richard Cory and the speaker of Frost’s poem walk around in denial of the truth.

Walking also happens to be a motif shared in common by both Frost’s and Robinson’s poems. The act of walking signifies movement away from the self, and away from the truth. Wandering aimlessly as Frost’s narrator does also represents being lost, not physically but spiritually. Frost’s speaker seems to deliberately want to get lost, to lose himself, seeking the darkness by heading out past the last streetlight. To walk means temporarily avoiding the truth, and it means also evading the need to stop, think, and connect with others. As soon as he thinks he might have been heard or noticed, he stops in his tracks: “I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet,” (Frost, line 7). Even if the speaker here refers to stopping the sound of the feet of others, the point is the same: he does not want human contact.

For Richard Cory, walking is also a means to avoid connecting with others meaningfully. Walking for Richard Cory also allows him to escape the truth of himself. Richard Cory uses walking in quite a different way than Frost’s speaker, though. Cory struts like a king, showing off his considerable wealth and power, albeit in a humane and gentle way: “ he was always quietly arrayed, /And he was always human when he talked,” (Robinson, lines 5-6). Unlike Frost’s narrator Cory does interact with others and does not seek dead silence. He does talk, and says “good morning,” (Robinson, line 8). The reader learns that his charm is but an act, though, when Cory kills himself.

The poets deliberately shield the true nature of their protagonists from the reader, as that is what Richard Cory and Frost’s speaker would have wanted anyway. Richard Cory is the man who seems to have it all, and still struggles with depression. He never wanted anyone to know how deeply he hurt, which is why he continued to glide through town as if he were indeed “everything,” an object of envy (Robinson line 11). Yet all the reader learns of Richard Cory is told through the eyes of others; the townsfolk narrate the poem. Cory never tells us who he is directly. Nor does Robert Frost’s narrator divulge anything of himself other than to describe his lonely actions. The reader learns little if anything about the speaker’s character, his needs, likes, desires, hopes, motives, or dreams. All the reader knows is that he walks alone, seeking darkness, even willing to drench himself in the rain if it means avoiding human contact. For both men, their loneliness is palpable, unrelated to any specific incident or issue. Even if Robinson makes social commentary on class stratification, it cannot be assumed that Richard Cory killed himself because he felt guilty about his wealth; nor can any motivation to commit suicide be implied by what Frost’s narrator has to say.