"The Chimney Sweeper" by William Blake Analysis

In a well-written essay, analyze how Blake used figurative language to convey a major theme of the poem.

A major theme in "The Chimney Sweeper" by William Blake is the loss of innocence. Through the employment of multiple contrasting elements, metaphors, imagery, and symbolism, Blake creates a world full of doom, despair, disease, and eventually death.

The speaker of the poem is a fellow chimney sweeper, presumably a child as well. Making him a peer of little Tom's makes the speaker a more reliable and trusting source. We assume that he knows the pain and suffering that Tom is experiencing. However, because he beings with a short summary of how he himself became a chimney sweeper, and that he calls Tom "little Tom" leads us to believe that he is somewhat older than Tom. The gloomy, sad tone is established by Blake in the very first stanza. To further enforce this tone of the poem, he uses personification. While telling his sorrow tale of how he himself began chimney sweeping, he says that his tongue "could scarcely cry 'weep! weep! weep!'" Ending the first stanza with the use of anastrophe further emphasized the speaker’s role as Tom’s peer and our lesser. “So your chimneys I sweep,” says the speaker, assigning the reader the role of superior. This gives Little Tom’s story a sense of urgency. 

It is in lines 5-8 that we are introduced to “little Tom Dacre,” a small boy who has white hair that is curly like the hair on “a lamb’s back.” Using the color white instead of saying blonde and describing him as a lamb symbolizes Tom’s innocence as a sacrificial character. Tom is crying about being forced into sacrificing his hair and essentially his childhood and innocence in order to sweep chimneys. Having the white hair on the innocent young boy in such a dirty, gloomy setting provides a contrast that evokes an unsettling feeling. This is to emphasize the immorality of the situation presented in the poem; intended to make the reader sympathize with Tom. 

In the dream described in the poem, Tom sees some of his fellow sweepers in black coffins. They are then set free by an angel with a key. The coffins of black obviously represent death, a very possible outcome for Tom. Because these dead sweepers were also presumably children, the fact that when they are let out they partake in such child-like activities—leaping, laughing, and running in green plains—reinforces their return to innocence, something they had to sacrifice. They “wash in a river” to cleanse the dirt from the chimneys and metaphorically cleanse their souls from the despair they went through. When they finish cleansing, they are naked and white: childlike and innocent once more.

The world in the dream is painted as such a contrast to the world that Tom lives in that it is understandable that the dream convinces him to long for and look forward to death. The unsettling thought of a child wishing for nothing but death, someone who is so young, who lives his every day wanting to die, ends the poem. He can no longer return to his child life. He has been exposed to a new world and now he wants nothing more than death. Tom has lost all of his innocence.

3 Easy Steps to Success

1.       Utilize the power of dialogue. It's the most natural way to express the way one is feeling. So natural, in fact, that we seem to forget that we can use it to strengthen our writing. Perhaps it seems all too simple. But rather than saying, “Suzie didn’t want to go to the store,” you could easily substitute this in:

Three knocks were heard from the outside of Suzie’s bedroom door.

“What do you want?” said Suzie.

“Rude, much?” said her older sister, Janice, as she entered the room.

“I’m busy,” Suzie said, returning her gaze back to her homework.

“Well, Mom said she needs us to get eggs, milks, and bread.”

“And why does this have to involve me?”

“Well, smarty pants Suzie, the words ‘us’ typically includes more than one person. You-“ Janice says slowly, with wide eyes and a nodding head, “and me.” She pauses and waits for a reaction from Suzie, who is now looking back up at her with extreme annoyance.

“I see. Well, Janice the jerk,” she says harshly while throwing a spiteful look at her sister, “the word ‘busy’ typically implies that someone has better things to do.”

“Well, I’m sorry but she said we, W-E, have to go.” She waves her hands in the space between her sister and herself. They sit in silence until Janice rolls her eyes, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her, but not before she says, “I’ll be in the car,” flatly.

Suzie, eyes as thin as her favorite mint chocolate cookies, which she was enjoying up until about five minutes ago, stares at her shut plain beige door. After a moment of pure hatred-filled tension, Suzie slams her book, slips her feet into her flip flops, adjusts her bun, and leaves her room with a large exhale.

Moral of the story: Let the characters do the telling. It’s far more interesting and a lot easier to get the point across for me personally. 

2.       Power of Pathos. There is a difference between telling your reader how to feel and persuading them to feel a certain way. The example used in class went something like this:

“I was sad because my dog died,” was being compared to:

“I woke up this morning, feeling as if something was missing. For one, I woke up on my own. I used to feel her whiskers caress and tickle my face when it was still dark outside, followed by the feeling of a wet, triangular, pink nose, and then tongue. Small strokes, to let me know there was no rush; she was simply reminding me of the time and what had to be done. This morning, without the sweet touch to awake me, I sat up from my bed, moved my hair out of my face, and simply looked straight ahead at my doors. I finally gathered the energy to shift my body to the side of my bed. I felt the silk sheets that she once loved caress my ankles. I lifted myself, and felt my feet hit the cold floor. I walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and got the milk out, preparing to make my daily coffee. And without noticing, I walked to the pantry, scooped out some dog food, and put it in her bowl. Disturbed by the absence of the sound of tiny paw steps running to the bowls, I looked up. It’s as if I could still see her face; wet, big, glossy eyes filled with love, blinking, rhythmically in sync with my heart beat. She was gone, and I couldn’t believe it. This was just the first of many now empty mornings without her. 

Moral of the story: take advantage of the power of the picture. Certain things universally symbolize emotions (i.e. wet eyes, cold floor, and empty mornings.) Never did I use the word “sad.” 

(Omg what is going on in this picture. God bless Google Images.)

3.       Figurative Language. The two main types of figurative language that have been beaten into our heads since about third grade are metaphors and similes. Because it would be uninteresting to read anything that is solely metaphors and similes, I will substitute a couple of excerpts from the examples above using figurative language.

“Three knocks were heard from the outside of Suzie’s bedroom door.” Can be turned into… “Three knocks as loud and threatening as Odysseus’ sirens were heard from the outside of Suzie’s door.”

“This morning, without the sweet touch to awake me, I sat up from my bed, moved my hair out of my face, and simply, looked straight ahead at my doors.” Could be… “This morning, without the sweet touch to awake me, I sat up from my bed, moved my hair out of my face, and simply, looked straight ahead at my doors as a sailor lost at sea might look into the gray abyss.”

Once again, it makes it all the more interesting and serves as more of an outlet for creativity, something every good reader looks for. 

I Should Probably Read More...Symbols, Symbols, Symbols.

Let me start by saying this: THERE WILL ALWAYS BE AT LEAST ONE SYMBOL IN EVERYTHING YOU WILL READ. (Unless it’s the weekly edition of “Teen Vogue,” which even then… you’d be surprised.) And no, I’m not talking about the kind of symbols that tweens use to text. Nor am I talking about the symbols used on Twitter. I’m talking about the symbol that means, stands for, or represents something else in literature.

 Once again, for this chapter, I thought of both The Kite Runner and Night. If nothing else, this assignment as taught me that I should really read more. But in the titles of the two books themselves, stand a symbol. Now that I think about it, most book titles are a symbol for something. In The Kite Runner, the symbol is the kite. As Mr. Foster says, if you think it’s a symbol, it probably is. But what does the symbol mean? Well, that’s mainly up to the reader. So my take on the kite is mine and yours is yours. The kite symbolizes many things, but for me, it mainly symbolizes childhood and happiness. Childhood is something I think Amir longs for after a certain point of the book. I also think that the kite represents his guilt for what he allowed to happen to Hassan. At the end of the book he finally gets to fly the kite again, revealing that he is once again happy, like he once was as a child, and free of guilt.

In the book Night, the main symbol is well…the night! Night time is dark, usually quiet, and generally not a good situation. Continually throughout the book bad things happen at night. I think it is a symbol of the fear and complete devastation that was felt by many during The Holocaust. Many felt like they were in the dark, with no one to help them.

Another book with the symbol right there for you in the title is The Bean Trees. Bean Trees, and I’ll admit I looked this up on Sparknotes after reading the book sophomore year, symbolize transformation. In order for a bean tree to stay alive, they must carry out a symbiotic relationship with an insect that moves up and down the plant, providing it with nutrients. The mutualistic relationship between the bug and the tree can be applicable to humans, as well. In The Bean Trees, although Taylor Greer completely picks up her life and moves to a new state, she quickly establishes a group of people who are there for her, and who care about her and Turtle and vice versa. So in a way, it’s as if Taylor is a bean tree, and her network of supporters is all the little insects that provide her with life!

One piece of literature that I surprisingly, since it’s the latest thing I’ve read, haven’t mentioned through this assignment is The Handmaid’s Tale! A major symbol, although not in the name of the book itself, is the color red. However, the version I had of the book was red, so that’s pretty close to the title. Red is the color all Handmaids are forced to wear. When I think of red I think of blood. Ew, gross, I know, but bear with me. Blood and flesh are things we are all made up of. It’s a part of us all. However, in the Handmaid’s Tale, it seems to be something women are reduced to. Handmaids specifically serve only as incubators for babies. Their significance to society is the one thing they still have after all of the disenfranchisement forced on them: blood and flesh, nothing more.

Not these symbols...

 

but these symbols... 

 

a little less appealing to the eyes... but a lot more to the brain 

Why You Should Never Go Out in a Winter Storm (Hint:You’ll Become Crazy)

It is in this chapter that I really start appreciating Foster as writer, my favorite line of his being, “November in the bones.” I feel that quote will stick with me for a long time. I think it’s important for an author to establish some sort of ethos so that the reader can take what he says seriously; especially when writing a book like this where you’re deliberately teaching someone how to do something. And I think Foster sets up that credibility and trust right from the beginning. I think he was very aware of his primary audience, students --probably high school or college-- and I think his language really does slant toward appealing to that age group. He has a witty style of writing, keeping it interesting and constantly relatable.  It also helps that he repeatedly mentions the fact that he is a teacher, so we know that he probably (hopefully) knows what he’s talking about. This book has so far taught me many things that I can personally apply to playwriting. The smallest things really do matter. For instance, the names he talks about in this chapter, “Daisy Miller” and “Frederic Winterbourne.” So obvious! …Now that it’s pointed out. I think I need to put a little more thought into the details of the things I write.

 But all of that is beside the point of the chapter. In chapter twenty he once again mentions a piece of work that I am familiar with, which is another method he uses to stay relatable, using very widely known pieces of literature. He mentions Shakespeare’s King Lear as an example of season’s meaning. In the play King Lear has a fit, a tantrum, if you will; explicitly showing his descend into madness. And it just so happens that this happens in the middle of a winter storm. (This chapter further instills my love for summer; if nothing else, shying me away from the season’s evil twin, for fear of turning mad in a winter storm.)

I’m not sure if this rule really always works (what rule does?) for fall. Sure, in the example given from Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 73”, it is the end of fall, beginning of winter, which means something usually depressing is going on. But I generally see fall as a good season. I picture fireplaces, leaves, strolls, breezy, sunny weather. What I really picture is the moving picture of Harry Potter’s parents, dancing in the fall, one of the only momentos he has left of them. I think in this case, J.K. Rowling did mean for fall to represent a happy time in order for Harry to feel happy and at ease when looking at this picture. Of course, winter too can be seen as a happy time. Maybe that’s just because I live in Texas and winters are not a particularly brutal thing to bear down here. However, since most writers do not reside in Texas, I will take Foster’s word for the fact that generally speaking, summer is a good thing, and winter is not.

 Seriously...don't do it.

Rub-A-Dub-Dub: Thanks for the Grub

Meals are obviously a part of our everyday lives. Because of this, just about every story, book, or movie you encounter will inhabit one. As Mr. Foster mentions, meals can be just meals, for the audience or reader’s sake of knowing that the character is indeed human and has to eat. However, since they are quite necessary to every good length story, writers usually try to fit some sort of significance into the scene.

Usually, well for me at least, when I think of scenes involving a sit-down meal, I think of less-than-ideal situations: Awkward family dinners, dining rooms filled with tension and grudges large enough to fit the overly-sized dining table, argument-stuffed conversations, yelling, evil glares and under-your-breath remarks shot to and from all sides, worry-filled eyebrows, pursed lips, sweaty palms, wandering eyes, you get the point. Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t personally had very many “bad” meal experiences, but somehow, for me, most of my viewing or reading experiences of meals have not been good ones. However, in real life, my meals are usually filled with comfort. And now that Mr. Foster mentions it, they usually comprise of people who I genuinely like, besides the regular table-setting of your immediate family, but let’s face it, you can’t do much about choosing them.

 Eating is usually a time of bonding, a time of relaxation, and a time of general communion, as the title suggests. A great example of when a meal has served, no pun intended, as something more than a mere fulfilling of the homosapien need, is in the movie Hairspray. Set in the early 1960s, when segregation was still very much alive, Tracy Turnblad, the main character, makes friends with a few African- American classmates. She seems to be one of the only people in Baltimore who has no problem, and sees no danger with associating with African-Americans. Tracy’s “colored” friends invite her, Link and Penny, all Caucasian, to their neighborhood. They willingly go; after all, they are all friends. When they all arrive in what most white people of the time and area would call the “dangerous part of town,” Tracy finds that they are not only welcomed with open arms, but with full plates. The meal serves as a breaking down of a barrier set by society, making Tracy and her friends even more convinced to oppose segregation.

                Another time that a meal has served as more than food on a plate, is in the classic Disney movie, Beauty and the Beast. When the Beast first captures Belle, she locks herself in her room and refuses to emerge. When the Beast realizes that in order to break the spell placed on him he must make friends with Belle, his animated dinnerware friends advise him to invite her downstairs for dinner. She refuses at first, but eventually gives in and has dinner with him. Belle eating with the Beast seems to be the first step to bringing them closer together. Meal time actually becomes a reoccurring occasion for Belle and the Beast to bond. She even tries to teach him polite eating etiquette, and eventually succeeds. The side story of the meals spent between the two in the movie, directly follow along the couple’s path to friendship, and eventually love.