Can you move it like this?

One of the things we discussed in class yesterday was the art of transition as executed by Gene Weingarten in Pearls Before Breakfast.

Sir John Betjeman had been in the news, and therefore (because this class requires me to keep up with the news this semester) also on my mind, and of course I had been thinking about his infamous 1937 poem Slough (yes, this year is the Diamond Jubilee of its publication).  In fact, if this weren't a long weekend, I'd probably have brought that poem to class on Monday as my example of strong writing ... btw the professor said we don't have to blog on Labor Day.  We finally caught a break  :)

Now Slough achieves some exquisite transitions with a simple and natural technique, so I decided to write about that today.

Okay, let's read the poem first:

Slough

By John Betjeman


Come, friendly bombs, and fall on Slough!
It isn't fit for humans now,
There isn't grass to graze a cow.
Swarm over, Death!

Come, bombs, and blow to smithereens
Those air-conditioned, bright canteens,
Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans,
Tinned minds, tinned breath.

Mess up the mess they call a town---
A house for ninety-seven down
And once a week a half a crown
For twenty years.

And get that man with double chin
Who'll always cheat and always win,
Who washes his repulsive skin
In women's tears:

And smash his desk of polished oak
And smash his hands so used to stroke
And stop his boring dirty joke
And make him yell.

But spare the bald young clerks who add
The profits of the stinking cad;
It's not their fault that they are mad,
They've tasted Hell.

It's not their fault they do not know
The birdsong from the radio,
It's not their fault they often go
To Maidenhead

And talk of sport and makes of cars
In various bogus-Tudor bars
And daren't look up and see the stars
But belch instead.

In labour-saving homes, with care
Their wives frizz out peroxide hair
And dry it in synthetic air
And paint their nails.

Come, friendly bombs, and fall on Slough
To get it ready for the plough.
The cabbages are coming now;
The earth exhales.

So (the speaker of) the poem talks about four subjects:  the town Slough, the "man with double chin", the "bald young clerks", and the sorry lives of those clerks.  How does it shift from one of these subjects to the next?

Well, it stays with each of the four subjects for approximately two consecutive stanzas:  lines 5--12 are about Slough, lines 13--20 about Mr. Double Chin, lines 21--27 about his clerks, and lines 28--36 about the clerks' lives (including the clerks' wives).

And, whenever it changes subject from one stanza to the next, it smoothens the transition by letting the last lines of those two stanzas rhyme:  years/tears when it shifts from the town to the the bad guy, yell/Hell when it shifts from the bad guy to his employees, and Maidenhead/instead when it shifts from the employees to their pitiable lot.

Of course, it also uses the same idea to start and end the poem:  Death/breath at the transition from its initial imperative to the town (its first subject), and nails/exhales at the transition from the wives (its last subject) to repeating the imperative. 

The technique even has a nice side-effect:  Whenever the poem stays with the same subject for two consecutive stanzas, the last lines of those two stanzas do not rhyme, thus creating variety.  This also happens when the structure makes you return to the first stanza after you've finished reading the poem (exhales and Death do not rhyme).

Jo.B. could shake it like that  :)  Have a great long weekend!