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Philip Larkin Notes Philip Larkin Philip The poetry of Philip Larkin is thoroughly modern. It combines a homely, sophisticated language with detailed and accurate descriptions that are narrated for the most part by an entirely personal voice. His poetry manages to capture the moment in an uncompromisingly realistic fashion that can sometimes appear pessimistic. Larkin’s verse can be sneering and contemptuous of society at “ large, yet, at the same time, he can be hilariously funny and self-deprecating. For all its bleak realism, Larkin’s poetry is open and warm. He bemoans the certainty of death, yet affirms the possibility of continuity and renewal glimpsed in nature. You should approach Larkin’s poetry with an open mind. If read without prejudice, it will force you to reassess many of your most deeply held beliefs. © Cian Hogan 2011 - 2 - The Whitsun Weddings That Whitsun, I was late getting away: Not till about One-twenty on the sunlit Saturday Did my three-quarters-empty train pull out, All windows down, all cushions hot, all sense 5 Of being in a hurry gone. We ran Behind the backs of houses, crossed a street Of blinding windscreens, smelt the fish-dock; thence The river’s level drifting breadth began, Where sky and Lincolnshire and water meet. 10 All afternoon, through the tall heat that slept For miles inland, A slow and stopping curve southwards we kept. Wide farms went by, short-shadowed cattle, and Canals with floatings of industrial froth; 15 A hothouse flashed uniquely: hedges dipped And rose: and now and then a smell of grass Displaced the reek of buttoned carriage-cloth Until the next town, new and nondescript, Approached with acres of dismantled cars. 20 At first, I didn’t notice what a noise The weddings made Each station that we stopped at: sun destroys The interest of what’s happening in the shade, And down the long cool platforms whoops and skirls 25 I took for porters larking with the mails, And went on reading. Once we started, though, We passed them, grinning and pomaded, girls In parodies of fashion, heels and veils, All poised irresolutely, watching us go, 30 As if out on the end of an event Waving goodbye To something that survived it. Struck, I leant More promptly out next time, more curiously, © Cian Hogan 2011 - 3 - And saw it all again in different terms: 35 The fathers with broad belts under their suits And seamy foreheads; mothers loud and fat; An uncle shouting smut; and then the perms, The nylon gloves and jewellery-substitutes, The lemons, mauves, and olive-ochres that 40 Marked off the girls unreally from the rest. Yes, from cafés And banquet-halls up yards, and bunting-dressed Coach-party annexes, the wedding-days Were coming to an end. All down the line 45 Fresh couples climbed aboard: the rest stood round; The last confetti and advice were thrown, And, as we moved, each face seemed to define Just what it saw departing: children frowned At something dull; fathers had never known 50 Success so huge and wholly farcical; The women shared The secret like a happy funeral; While girls, gripping their handbags tighter, stared At a religious wounding. Free at last, 55 And loaded with the sum of all they saw, We hurried towards London, shuffling gouts of steam. Now fields were building-plots, and poplars cast Long shadows over major roads, and for Some fifty minutes, that in time would seem 60 Just long enough to settle hats and say I nearly died, A dozen marriages got under way. They watched the landscape, sitting side by side —An Odeon went past, a cooling tower, 65 and someone running up to bowl—and none Thought of the others they would never meet Or how their lives would all contain this hour. I thought of London spread out in the sun, Its postal districts packed like squares of wheat: 70 © Cian Hogan 2011 - 4 - There we were aimed. And as we raced across Bright knots of rail Past standing Pullmans, walls of blackened moss Came close, and it was nearly done, this frail Travelling coincidence; and what it held 75 Stood ready to be loosed with all the power That being changed can give. We slowed again, And as the tightened brakes took hold, there swelled A sense of falling, like an arrow-shower Sent out of sight, somewhere becoming rain. 80 glossary The title, ‘The Whitsun Weddings’, refers to 40 olive-ochres – greenish-gold colours. Pentecost Sunday, which is the seventh Sunday 44 annexes – separate areas. after Easter. This was a time in the early Christian 51 farcical – ridiculous. calendar when converts to the Church wore white 55 religious wounding – here, the speaker is robes in honour of their belief in the Holy Spirit. referring to the act of sexual intercourse. In this poem, there is the underlying notion that Once the couple has had sexual relations, the the wedding is the start of a new life, both for the marriage is said to be consummated. When married couple and for their respective families. sexual intercourse takes place for the first To this day, Whitsun is a particularly popular time time, the subsequent rupturing of the hymen to celebrate a wedding. can result in bleeding. 19 nondescript – unremarkable or ordinary. 65 Odeon – a commonly used name for a 25 skirls – a shrill cry or sound. cinema. 28 pomaded – hair finished with pomade or 73 Pullmans – named after their inventor, George another hair product. Pullman, these are luxury railway carriages or 30 irresolutely – waveringly or undecidedly. saloons. 1. Content The Whitsun Weddings is the title poem from Larkin’s best-known collection of © Cian Hogan 2011 - 5 - poems. On the day on which Larkin was inspired to write this poem, he tells us that he caught: A very slow train that stopped at every station and I hadn’t realised that, of course, this was the train that all the wedding couples would get on and go to London for their honeymoon; it was an eye-opener to me. Every part was different but the same somehow. They all looked different but they were all doing the same things and sort of feeling the same things. I suppose the train stopped at about four, five, six stations between Hull and London and there was a sense of gathering emotional momentum. Every time you stopped fresh emotion climbed a b o a r d . And finally between Peterborough and London when you hurtle on, you felt the whole thing was being aimed like a bullet – at the heart of things, you know. All this fresh, open life. Incredible experience. I’ve never forgotten it. The poem opens with a very personal and direct statement of fact. The speaker tells us that on ‘That Whitsun, [he] was late getting away’. The details are very specific; it was about ‘One-twenty on [a] sunlit Saturday’. The mood in the opening stanza is relaxed. All ‘sense | Of being in a hurry [is] gone’. The train moves behind the backs of the houses and, as its momentum gathers, the scenery changes. As the train passes by the fish docks and the river, the Lincolnshire countryside begins to stretch out before the poet. In the second stanza, we learn that the train followed a southward curve. ‘Wide farms’ dotted with ‘short-shadowed cattle’ come in and out of view. Slowly, the countryside gives way to the small towns. ‘Canals with floatings of industrial froth’ signal the approach of a more urban landscape. The area between towns is indicated by hedgerows and the smell of cut grass. In the poet’s estimation, these small towns are nondescript. The second stanza closes with the ugly image of ‘acres of dismantled cars’. The speaker reasserts his presence in the third stanza. He informs us that ‘At first, [he] didn’t notice what a noise | The weddings made’. This is the first mention of the weddings referred to in the title. The powerful sun shining down on each of the stations that the train stops at hides ‘what’s happening in the shade’. The speaker admits that he had heard ‘whoops and skirls’ of excitement coming from the platforms. However, he had mistakenly believed that this noise came from the porters messing and joking. He now realises that the commotion was coming from wedding parties gathered on the © Cian Hogan 2011 - 6 - station platforms. The sight of grinning and pomaded ‘girls | In parodies of fashion, heels and veils’ grabs the speaker’s attention. These girls stand on the platform and wave tentatively at the train. Anticipating a similar scene at the next station, the poet leans: More promptly out next time, more curiously, And saw it all again in different terms: In great detail, the poet describes the scene that greets him. There is an ‘uncle shouting smut’ and women wearing ‘nylon gloves’ and ‘jewellery-substitutes’. The colours of their clothes are bright, even garish, and ‘Marked [them off] unreally’ from the rest of the crowd on the platform. The poet imagines that these wedding parties have come from the surrounding cafés and ‘banquet-halls’ and then remarks that the ‘wedding-days | Were coming to an end’. Meanwhile, ‘Fresh couples’ continue to climb on board the train. As they do so, these newly married men and women move away from the crowds in the station. The poet sees different things etched on the faces of the people who are there to see the newlyweds off. The children ‘frowned’ while the fathers ‘had never known | Success so huge and wholly farcical’.
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