Red Wheelbarrow' William Carlos Williams

¶ … Red Wheelbarrow' William Carlos Williams That William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" is an Imagism benchmark poem in the annals American poetry is evidenced by its constant pedagogical repetition in scholarly circles, almost to the point of becoming trite (Easterbrook, 1994). The Imagist poetic movement, just ten years in the making at the time of Williams' 1923 poem, seemingly culminated with this one single, simple yet complex work.

Williams' and the Imagists' intent was to simultaneously bring out the beauty and dual meanings of ordinary things, as in this case a red wheelbarrow. Given the poem's brevity, the then-emerging practice of poetic Imagism and Objectivism is nonetheless supremely displayed by transforming an ordinary wheelbarrow not as a container for hauling dirt or flowers but rather into a stark metaphor via an objects' color and texture into commentary on early American 20th century race and rural life. The opening line of the poem insists on our attention.

As it is, "so much depends" can be found in almost every compendium of American poetry as the example of Imagism. Indeed, the rest of the poem depends so much upon its opening line. Easterbrook adds that it appears also as often as an example of how a simple metrical pattern determines a poem's meaning by isolating a word on a page.

Typically referred to as a "specimen poem," Williams' work is upheld as a prime example of pure, unadulterated verbiage, a poem so simple it must be re-examined for its deceptive singular message (Easterbrook, 1994, p. 26-27). And so begins the simple poem which demands we read the rest to ascertain upon which so much depends. "[a] red wheelbarrow" conjures up a decidedly rural image.

Rizzo explains that Williams later expounded upon his trade as both a doctor and a poet, writing in later works that he'd been impressed by an elderly black man named Marshall. This farming image, of a common farming tool waiting to be used in the context of the African-American Marshall, speaks of the stark simplicity of farm life in rural 1920s America (Rizzo, 2005, p. 40). Williams later asserted in his autobiography that his dual professions were not in conflict, and owed his literary success to things gleaned from his hometown neighbors.

Rizzo (2005) explains that Williams saves his greatest emotional and personal commentary for "The Red Wheelbarrow" in general, and for Marshall in particular (p. 35). That image of the working class wheelbarrow, and perhaps with the Marshall of Williams' later musings on his own poem (Rizzo, 2005, p. 35), exposes the deep roots of the work in that Williams exhibits a deep introspection about Marshall, the historical time, and the poem itself (as cited in Easterbrook, 1994, p. 30).

Rizzo points out as well, that it is not "the" red wheelbarrow that is waiting for Marshall, but "a" red wheelbarrow, the latter article denoting lack of ownership, and a deeper, meditative lack of self inherent to early 20th century African-Americans (2005, p. 40). These two opening lines thrust upon its reader the author's admission that there is more to do here than convey a simple image; the author would likewise prefer to convey something significant by illustrating plain objects that literarily exude great import (Morgan, 1947, p. 684).

Arguably the first line in which Williams introduces an aesthetic sensation, "glazed with rain water" lends itself to a bit of a play on words. Water is redundant after the word rain, but rain modifies water as well. Easterbrook writes of Williams as being a poet unique in his ability to "present imagistic pictures." The whole poem "The Red Wheelbarrow," the title itself, and the line "glazed with rain water" presents a reader with "a miniature painting" (1994,p. 27). a.K.

Weatherhead wrote in 1967 of Williams' characteristic Imagism, and his subsequent well-established influence on the said historical poetic movement (as cited in Easterbrook, 1994, p. 29-30), that was attributed to Williams' contrived attention to "thinginess," to objects named -- the wheel barrow, the glaze, the rain, the water, et al. "Glaze-ness," for example, is not merely a quality of the rain or the wheelbarrow, but exists independently in "Platonic forms"; that is, Williams successfully and succinctly presents objects for our full perusal.

We see how it looks or feels; we see through Williams' words the objects anew "in their [own] sharp contours" (Easterbrook, 1994, p. 30). Williams' ability to seamlessly create a vivid picture in the minds of readers is extant in the last line "beside the white chickens." Our first mental impression as readers is that of a red wheelbarrow, and all that red entails: passion, anger, and perhaps love; to the contrast of "white" chickens in the last line.

White usually denotes purity and cleanliness -- in juxtaposition to chickens in general -- and other saintly attributes. Contrast this image with the working class wheelbarrow, and perhaps with the Marshall of Williams' later musings on his poem (Rizzo, 2005, p. 35), and we have a particularly.