Works of Thomas Hardy discussion

CHANNEL FIRING

That night your great guns, unawares,
Shook all our coffins as we lay,
And broke the chancel window-squares,
We thought it was the Judgment-day

And sat upright. While drearisome
Arose the howl of wakened hounds:
The mouse let fall the altar-crumb,
The worms drew back into the mounds,

The glebe cow drooled. Till God called, “No;
It’s gunnery practice out at sea
Just as before you went below;
The world is as it used to be:

“All nations striving strong to make
Red war yet redder. Mad as hatters
They do no more for Christés sake
Than you who are helpless in such matters.

“That this is not the judgment-hour
For some of them’s a blessed thing,
For if it were they’d have to scour
Hell’s floor for so much threatening....

“Ha, ha. It will be warmer when
I blow the trumpet (if indeed
I ever do; for you are men,
And rest eternal sorely need).”

So down we lay again. “I wonder,
Will the world ever saner be,”
Said one, “than when He sent us under
In our indifferent century!”

And many a skeleton shook his head.
“Instead of preaching forty year,”
My neighbour Parson Thirdly said,
“I wish I had stuck to pipes and beer.”

Again the guns disturbed the hour,
Roaring their readiness to avenge,
As far inland as Stourton Tower,
And Camelot, and starlit Stonehenge.

Below is a good explication and analysis of this poem by the Hardy Society.

https://www.hardysociety.org/media/bi...

This is one of my favorites. You have voices in the afterlife, though buried and listening to what those living can hear, mistake the booms from naval gunnery practice with Judgement Day.

Here God is resolute and states with such command that No you are wrong — and it is a good thing you are wrong.

The world here is about to be red with war and the human beings advancing such bloody doings are mad as hatters.

The world in which Hardy wrote this great poem is the same as it is today — namely bloody and stupid.

My goodness this is a savage poem! I find it interesting that it was published on 1st May 1914, three months before the beginning of the First World War (4th August 1914). Like our previous one, "The Man He Killed", it is extraordinarily prescient.

And again, Thomas Hardy is making his feelings about war crystal clear: i.e. that war is atrocious, and we learn nothing. He goes further and says that we are never going to learn (as per John's final thought!)

The tone of the poem is one of deep pessimism and cynicism. We see loss of faith, and disillusion to the point of hopelessness.

Since in this poem God is laughing mockingly at us, Thomas Hardy must be putting his own thoughts and feelings into God’s mouth; God’s behaviour in the poem is not that of the "true God" he believes in.

I also find this poem quite macabre, with its mention of worms and its graveyard setting.

Not one of my favourites ... but it's certainly powerful! Thanks John!

One thing I love about Hardy is his modern tone and sensibility. I have to remind myself that he was born in 1840. Channel Firing is a good example of this sensibility.

When I look at the poets nominated here for the 2022 Goodreads Award, and having read some of them, I don’t find them any more modern than Hardy. They may write about social media or the pandemic, but they don’t get to the core like Hardy did. Perhaps because the “thing” never replaced the “human” in Hardy. He is as current as any poet I know.

That is a very good point John! And a lot more accessible than some English or Irish modern poets.

It is a powerful poem John!

It's interesting that the guns break the window squares in the chancel, as though these actions are doing harm to God's purpose or method.

I guess though that it's not precisely God who says we will never learn? It's the fellow skeletons that shake their heads to the question rather than God. Though God doesn't seem too hopeful, for sure.

And He does make it clear that some of those involved will not be going to a good place when they die. Some old testament fire and damnation there ("Hell's floor," "warmer").

I wonder why He says "if ever" with regards to blowing the trumpet? I assume he is referring to Judgement Day, but then, it might not happen? What does that mean? There's a huge variation in what different Christian sects believe in terms of end times and afterlife; I have no idea what Hardy believed. Probably you both know much more than I do about that.

I was struck at the end of the poem at the way the "roaring" sequences to landmarks further and further back in time, from the tower to Camelot to eventually all the way back to Stonehenge of ancient times. It's as though whatever flaw in human nature that causes the horrors of war can be traced back to our earliest origins in antiquity.

I completely agree with what you say John and Jean - there is such a strong sense of disillusionment and futility in this poem. It's savage, but the savagery is born of despair.

Greg wrote: "it's not precisely God who says we will never learn? It's the fellow skeletons that shake their heads to the question rather than God ..."

Yes, on reading it again, you're right Greg :)

What first came to my mind was the language of the poem, esp. in the beginning, with all the dark o´s and a´s that produce a gloomy atmosphere.

John wrote: "This is one of my favorites. You have voices in the afterlife, though buried and listening to what those living can hear, mistake the booms from naval gunnery practice with Judgement Day.

Here God..."

And man is still at war with man....in the Ukraine

If anyone has an interest in the combination of literature and war, I recommend Paul Fussell’s The Great War and Modern Memory.

The opening chapter of the book discusses Hardy’s poems, and hovering through the entire book is, in fact, Hardy’s presence. It is, in my opinion, one of the greatest histories ever written. Channel Firing receives a good analysis in it.

Fussell wrote that if The Great War could be written, Hardy would be the one who could accomplish it.

John wrote: "If anyone has an interest in the combination of literature and war, I recommend Paul Fussell’s The Great War and Modern Memory.

The opening chapter of the book discusses Hardy’s poem..."

Thanks for the recommendation John!

Has anyone else read this week's poem yet? Do tell us your thoughts.

One of the aspects I liked about this poem was the ending — specifically the last two words: starlit Stonehenge.

The meter and consonance of these two words work perfectly together. Imagine without starlit — the emphasis would be lacking. The image is also quiet and haunting, which stands viscerally strong when the opening of “great guns” at night is considered.

Wow, yes!

Given the group read we have just finished, Stonehenge seem to be quite a big thing with Thomas Hardy, doesn't it?

Just a note for non-English readers that that the place-names refer to three past civilisations:

1. Stourton Tower was put up in 1766 to commemorate
King Alfred’s victory over the Danes in 879

2. Camelot is the legendary court of King Arthur, and

3. Stonehenge (as we've discussed) is the Neolithic site in Wiltshire, perhaps built as a temple to the sun and the moon about two or three thousand years ago.

So Thomas Hardy takes us back through the history of the area with King Alfred, through legends of "Wessex" with King Arthur, and into prehistory of the area with Stonehenge. He asks, has nothing changed in all that time? Man is still fighting.

The end echoes the beginning, with a burst of gunfire. The noise which shook the dead awake in the first verse disturbs them again in the last verse. Note the portentous sounds pointed out by Michaela.

Here at the end the sound of the guns roar through the last arrhythmic last line, giving a jarring feeling with its extra syllable and repeated t’s onomatopoeically echoing the gunfire:

"And Camelot, and starlit Stonehenge."

Thomas Hardy is making it abundantly clear that war is atrocious, and that people learn nothing. Don't miss this powerful anti-war poem! It's the final official day, before John posts our next one.

Bionic Jean wrote: "Just a note for non-English readers that that the place-names refer to three past civilisations:

1. Stourton Tower was put up in 1766 to commemorate
King Alfred’s victory over the Danes in 879

2..."

I had noticed that sequencing back in time in my post too Jean - it's a powerful way to end the poem I think.

Both this poem and "The Man He Killed" feel equally disillusioned to me, but what strikes me as different here is the directness and rawness of the poem's crying out. You pointed out the worms and decay in your earlier post; that is one part of it. The attitude of God, the threat of damnation, and the imagery are others.

The feeling behind "The Man He Killed" seems just as savagely disillusioned, but the manner of that other poem has a sort of politeness or irony in approach that is missing here. It's as though we have gotten past that point, and he needs to make his feelings perfectly clear.

Greg wrote: "I had noticed that sequencing back in time in my post too Jean ..."

Oh yes! Great points about the similarities of these two poems. This one is so raw as you say (oddly, I mistyped that word as "war" to start with) and you can hear his anguish.

Hardy was quite prophetic about wars in the 20th century. He actually wrote a poem before The Great War about a mass grave. Up to that time in history, something like that was unknown, for the most part. Sadly, we ended up knowing it well. Paul Fussell called Hardy a clairvoyant, which is quite accurate.

How extraordinarily prescient of Hardy, as only a few months later nations began

striving strong to make
Red war yet redder

A very good poem.

And many a skeleton shook his head.
“Instead of preaching forty year,”
My neighbour Parson Thirdly said,
“I wish I had stuck to pipes and beer.”

We've included poems with a connection to Tess of the D’Urbervilles, so I thought I'd mention an interesting titbit about this poem:

Parson Thirdly appears in Hardy's Far From the Madding Crowd. Here is an excerpt where another character in the book is relating an incident where he was on the receiving end of one of the Parson's good deeds.

Why, neighbours, when every one of my taties were frosted, our Parson Thirdly were the man who gave me a sack for seed, though he hardly had one for his own use, and no money to buy ’em. If it hadn’t been for him, I shouldn’t hae had a tatie to put in my garden.

This is another instance where Hardy has included a character from his novels into his poetry. I think it's rather fun when we come across these.

Jane wrote: "And many a skeleton shook his head.
“Instead of preaching forty year,”
My neighbour Parson Thirdly said,
“I wish I had stuck to pipes and beer.”

We've included poems with a connection to [book:Tes..."

That is a great find, Jane, and thanks for sharing. I have always been intrigued by that name. He does sound like someone who enjoyed his pipe and a beer.

I find this poem as fresh and timely as when it was written. We may be a 110 years later, but the Mad Hatters remain among us.

Greg wrote: "I have no idea what Hardy believed. Probably you both know much more than I do about that."

From what I've picked up in what I've read by Hardy and about him, his beliefs about religion oscillated between absolute atheism and very skeptical agnosticism, mostly weighted towards the former. But he wasn't gleeful about it; rather, he sometimes comes across as wishing he could still believe in his childhood faith.

The literary conceit he uses here --the consciousnesses (spirits?) of the buried dead speaking as if they were alive-- is the same one the early 20th-century American poet Edgar Lee Masters used throughout his Spoon River Anthology and The New Spoon River. When I read this poem, I couldn't help but wonder if it was one of Masters' influences.

That's fascinating, thanks Werner!

No problem, Jean! (I've read both of those two poetry collections by Masters, but it was decades ago; one of these years, I need to reread and review them.)

One of the great things about poetry, is re-reading it after a long time lapse. Often I see different meanings from my first reading. It's been fun to follow your comments, Werner, as you work your way through Hardy's poetry. Both for your insights, and to look back at my own comments from many months ago. Thank you for that!

You're welcome, Bridget; glad to contribute something positive! :-) (I'm only about halfway through the omnibus edition of his complete poetry, so most likely will still be commenting here and there for a few more weeks.)