To a Fat Lady Seen From the Train
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?
O fat white woman whom nobody loves,
Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
When the grass is soft as the breast of doves
And shivering sweet to the touch?
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?
Commentary
Moving on with the named verse form theme, here’s a triolet…
triolet: a poem or stanza of eight lines in which the first line is repeated
at the fourth and seventh and the second line as the eight with a rhyme scheme of ABaAabAB.
The English pronunciation is tr<e>i;olet, though it is tree-o-lay in French.
Today’s poem is not particularly great, except for one thing - it makes excellent use of the triolet form. Rather than employ the more modern custom of attempting to vary the reading of the repeated lines, Cornford structures the poem so that the repetition reads easily and naturally - it’s not obscured, but it doesn’t need to be, since it adds to, rather than detracts from, the poem.
As for the content of the poem, the “O fat white woman whom nobody loves” is rather jarring to modern sensibilities; I can’t imagine it being too far otherwise even to her contemporaries. In particular, I find the ‘whom nobody loves’ a rather odd sort of deduction to make from a train window, and have to wonder if it was intended as a comment on the narrator as much as on the woman.
Like ‘Trees’, like ‘The Ballad of the Tempest’, today’s poem has just that combination of popular and annoying qualities that make it almost guaranteed to attract parodies. Chesterton was moved to reply on the woman’s behalf:
Why do you rush through the fields in trains,
Guessing so much and so much.
Why do you flash through the flowery meads,
Fat-head poet that nobody reads;
And why do you know such a frightful lot
About people in gloves and such?
– Chesterton, ‘The Fat White Woman Speaks’
(c. 1933); an answer to Frances Cornford.
and Housman skewered the poem rather neatly:
O why do you walk through the fields in boots,
Missing so much and so much?
O fat white woman whom nobody shoots,
Why do you walk through the fields in boots,
When the grass is soft as the breast of coots
And shivering-sweet to the touch?
– Housman; see http://vp.engl.wvu.edu/Fall98/burnett.htm for the rest
of the (excellent) piece on Housman’s reworking of other poets’ poems.
On Triolets:
Like most of the repeated line verse forms, triolets are influenced rather heavily by the constraint. Unlike the villanelle, however, the poem itself is short enough that the repetition can be worked with, rather than around, a lot more easily (though workarounds are, of course, popular, from the shifting of punctuation and parts of speech to the use of homophones and homonyms, taking advantage of the fact that the repeated lines merely have to sound identical).
Here are some essays on the triolet:
Going back at least to the thirteenth century, triolets are short, usually witty poems, just perfect for tucking into a box of candy or some flowers. Its name comes from the repetition of the key line three times (French “tri”).
– http://www.writing-world.com/poetry/triolet.html
http://www.geocities.com/~spanoudi/poems/henley01.html is a self-referential triolet
[broken link] http://pub4.ezboard.com/fthesonnetboardnotsonnets.showMessage?topicID=343.topic
is another amusingly self-referential piece about the English/French
pronunciation differences (the triolet is, in general, a fun form to
play with, and popular among amateur writers of light verse).
http://pub34.ezboard.com/fla1frm30.showMessage?topicID=2.topic is another nice essay
The earliest English triolets were of a devotional nature composed by Patrick Carey, a Benedictine monk, in 1651. It was reintroduced by Robert Bridges in 1873.
– http://www.themediadrome.com/content/articles/words_articles/right_word4_fixed_forms.htm#triolet
A brief biography of Conford:
http://www.traditional-poetry.org/cornford.htm
Minstrels Links
Poem #84: “From a Railway Carriage”, R. L. Stevenson Poem #212: “To Alice-Sit-By-The-Hour”, Franklin Adams
— Martin
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From the Wondering Minstrels mailing list, 1999–2008.
Peter Westcott · 31 May 2003
Some years ago PUNCH ran a competition on this poem, one of the entries suggested she was a cricketer - wicket keeper.
Zoe Mair · 1 March 2007
I heard this poem first when I was being trained in elocution at my school in Melbourne probably about 1940. The other poem I remember (or part thereof) was, and I only have a snippit, god bless my soul I thought that man was a telegraph pole when he passed my gate.
Silly isn’t it???
Bobby Matherne · 12 March 2007
I came to this page when I looked up “triolet” after discovering it in “The Man Who Was Thursday” by G. K. Chesterton. Here is the quote in which it appears:
[page 42] “The work of the philosophical policeman,” replied the man in blue, “is at once bolder and more subtle than that of the ordinary detective. The ordinary detective goes to pot-houses to arrest thieves; we go to artistic tea-parties to detect pessimists. The ordinary detective discovers from a ledger or a diary that a crime has been committed. We discover from a book of sonnets that a crime will be committed. We have to trace the origin of those dreadful thoughts that drive men on at last to intellectual fanaticism and intellectual crime. We were only just in time to prevent the assassination at Hartlepool, and that was entirely due to the fact that our Mr. Wilks (a smart young fellow) thoroughly understood a triolet.”
Bobby Matherne