Robert Frost: Life Tragedies and Poetic Parallels

A Life Filled with Tragic Inspiration

Robert Frost was a prolific American writer and poet whose work captured the difficulties of some of the most challenging periods in modern American history, as well as his own personal trials and tribulations. Frost's work is known for the eloquence he was able to express using the simple language of common colloquial speech (Holman & Snyder, 2012). His father, a hard-drinking disciplinarian and journalist, died at the age of thirty-six from the consequences of excessive drinking when Frost was still a child. His adult life was also marred by a long string of personal tragedies: he lost two of his six children in infancy, and his favorite child, his daughter Marjorie, died after delivering her first child. Only four years later, his wife Elinor suffered a sudden fatal heart attack, followed two years after that by the suicide of his son Carol. Yet another child, Irma, had to be institutionalized for the same type of mental illness that had afflicted his sister Jeannie, and Frost himself endured lifelong bouts of clinical depression (Holman & Snyder, 2012). Frost proved unsuccessful as a farmer and tradesman, but his writing was recognized as worthwhile while he was still in high school (Thompson, 1995).

Much of his work — including the dark poem A Witness Tree — undoubtedly had its origins in the sadness Frost experienced in connection with his many tragic losses. Frost nearly committed suicide as a very young man after the initial rejection of his first marriage proposal to Elinor. They had both written poetry published in their school paper and had been co-valedictorians in high school, pledging their mutual love and intention to be together afterward (Thompson, 1995). Frost enrolled at Dartmouth College before returning home, although it is unclear whether he was expelled or left of his own volition after just one semester (King, 2009).

Frost worked as a lamp maker before taking a grade-school teaching position near Elinor's college. After his first professional success as a writer — when the Independent, a New York magazine, purchased his poem "My Butterfly: An Elegy" — he produced two hand-made copies of his collected work, then consisting of five poems. He then showed up unannounced at Elinor's school, Lawrence College, bearing two copies of his first book, a collection of those five poems entitled Twilight, intending to give one copy to Elinor along with his marriage proposal. When she accepted the book without enthusiasm and rejected his proposal, he tore up his remaining copy on the walk home and — as is now believed — contemplated suicide. This would only be revealed by Frost in old age, and cryptically, through his poem Kitty Hawk, ostensibly about the Wright Brothers and their historic achievement at the field by that name (King, 2009).

Early Rejection and a Near-Fatal Crisis

Elinor had said that she rejected Frost's proposal primarily because she wanted to complete her college education first, but Frost apparently believed she might have had another romantic interest. Stung deeply by her rejection and depressed about having no job after abandoning his own education, Frost traveled to Virginia's Dismal Swamp, where he apparently at least seriously contemplated taking his life. In Kitty Hawk — written shortly before his death and published in his last book — Frost makes various references to ideas such as ends, punishing her, guns, the soul, God, eternity, and Satan, which seem to suggest that he had made the trip intending to end his life after Elinor rejected him (King, 2009).

This episode illustrates how deeply personal anguish was woven into Frost's creative identity. The themes of loss, regret, and uncertain paths that appear throughout his poetry were not merely literary devices — they were the direct residue of lived experience. Understanding this biographical context is essential for appreciating the emotional weight behind even his most seemingly tranquil verses. As scholars of American poetry have long noted, Frost's deceptively plain language frequently conceals layers of grief and unresolved tension.

Conclusion

This concept resonated with me because I have often realized that choices that seemed inconsequential at the time actually had profound effects on my life. My choice to take one class over another, or to play baseball instead of another spring sport, ultimately resulted in my becoming friends with some people and not others. My choice to continue using a throwing motion that had been successful since my Little League days — instead of changing it to protect my arm — may have been the reason I eventually suffered a serious chronic injury to my throwing arm. On the other hand, if I had changed my throwing motion and avoided injury, I might have been playing in a game during which I could have been far more seriously hurt. It is even conceivable that I could have been struck by a car and killed on the way to a game that my injury had prevented me from playing.

Frost's poem has helped me resist the temptation to dwell on what might have been had I listened to my coaches. While I will never know for certain, it is possible that my throwing-arm injury could actually have saved my life. This is precisely the insight Frost captures: the roads not taken remain forever unknowable, and dwelling on them serves little purpose beyond cultivating regret.