explication essay of the road not taken

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Explication essay of the road not taken pay for esl admission essay on hillary

Explication essay of the road not taken


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Frost is perturbed with the world because, like the speaker, he has to choose between two divergent paths. Each path appears to be suitable, yet, Fro Once again at the end of the poem regret hangs over the traveler. He realizes that at the end of his life, somewhere ages and ages hence?

I discovered that this symbolises the influence of possibilities in life. Even if two paths appear similar, they contain subtle differences which set their outcome apart. It is the nature of humans, with our instinctive curiosity and regret that makes it complicated for a human to be entirely content with the route he or she chooses to follow in life. The simple reality that the narrator will never know what could have been or what he may have missed out on will leave him constantly wondering of the road not taken.

He made a choice, and will always wonder were the other choice would have led. The known has always been easy but the unknown future is what scares many of us the most. While the author paints the picture of choice making in this two poems, he also draws two different events. One common interpretation of the poem about assertion of individualism, where the speaker is taking the road not traveled so that he can assert his individualism, is a nice interpretation.

However, I believe that the speaker is really having a hard time making up his mind, and the poem is a conversation with himself trying to rationalize his decision. It seems as if both ways might lead to great occurrences, but only one way is the right way. There are four points in the poem that stick out where the speaker is either vague and unclear or contradictory in evaluating his choices. It is evident in the poem that the speaker is faced with a choice of what he must do but it takes further examination to understand why the speaker struggles with this choice.

Frost not only leaves the meaning of the poem open for interpretation, he also leaves the conclusion open-ended. Neither is it known from where or to where the driver is going, nor why, and the promises the driver must keep also go unexplained. Frost often conveys his feelings in his poetry; thus, just as Frost's life has an underlying meaning, so do many of his poems. Frost's "The Road Not Taken" is a poem that is often studied on its obvious surface level; however, the poem is actually very ambiguous in its underlying meaning.

Because the speaker in Frost's work can only take one path, he will never know what the other path holds for him. This statement supports the fact that the speaker realizes he can not take both paths; therefore, he can never know what each path has to offer him. The speaker proceeds to say, with hints of reminiscence or regret in his or her voice, that someday he or she will look back on the decision and sigh.

Frost used his gift of writing to take all decisions and simplify them into a twenty line poem. He essentially said that the right choice is never clear otherwise it would not be a choice and that it is often too late to turn back once a decision is made. Every time a choice is made an entire possible future is eliminated and at that point all a person can do is remember what could have been.

This poem says that we are free to choose, but we do not really know what we are choosing between. It does not say to take the path less traveled by nor take the path that is more traveled. The speaker knows that he will either second guess the decision somewhere down the line or wonder what was down the other path. In reality there is no right path, only the chosen path and the other path. And the places where your decisions would take you can differ greatly. Similarly, "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost uses symbolism to demonstrate that everyone is a traveler who chooses the road to follow on his or her journey in life.

And whichever one I took that day Would lead itself to the other way And send me forward to take me back. Still, I shall be claiming with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one on the left-hand side, And that has made all the difference.

And this brings us to the final stanza—more particularly, it brings us to one of the most carefully placed words in this delicately balanced arrangement. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence. But why would it? Recall the final stanza:. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

Poetry has always oscillated between guardedness and fervor. There is a sense that, like Thomas Hardy, Frost sometimes saw himself as more allied with the impersonal forces often depicted in his poems than with the human characters those forces so frequently overwhelm. He was much bolder in this regard than almost all of his modernist peers.

It keeps us in the woods, at the crossroads, unsure whether the speaker is actually even making a choice, and then ends not with the decision itself but with a claim about the future that seems unreliable. Ah, when to the heart of man Was it ever less than a treason To go with the drift of things, To yield with a grace to reason, And bow and accept the end Of a love or a season?

The conclusion of the poem is a protest against conclusions—an argument, you might say, for delay. After all, a stubborn sensibility also delays. A playful sensibility delays. Here is Frost from an interview with The Paris Review in , talking about the act of writing:.

The whole thing is performance and prowess and feats of association. When stiff and sore and scarred I take away my hand From leaning on it hard In grass and sand,. The hurt is not enough: I long for weight and strength To feel the earth as rough To all my length. Yes, these stanzas are about the hunger for sensation.

Not just more touch, but more time. What is the difference between the stories we tell about ourselves and the actuality of our inner lives? He hesitates like a candle flame wavers: hot but fragile, already wrapped in the smoke that will signal its extinction. The difference between them is one of attitude and degree. He wants the ball to pass through the hoop, only to return to his hands, because for Frost the process—the continuation, the endless creation of endless roads—is everything.

But no game can continue forever. And this understanding lets him create his own version of romantic yearning. But it has a road, and the consequences of that road. Back out of all this now too much for us, Back in a time made simple by the loss Of detail, burned, dissolved, and broken off Like graveyard marble sculpture in the weather, There is a house that is no more a house Upon a farm that is no more a farm And in a town that is no more a town. Then make yourself at home.

Weep for what little things could make them glad. Then for the house that is no more a house, But only a belilaced cellar hole, Now slowly closing like a dent in dough. This was no playhouse but a house in earnest. And the poem famously concludes with a cross between a baptism and the Grail quest:. Here are your waters and your watering place. Drink and be whole again beyond confusion. This is to be expected.

There I rest my case. Reading it, you feel that if John Ashbery were to write a Robert Frost poem, this is what it would sound like. Both poems rely on the image of an unreliable road that is imperfectly understood by its traveler. For Frost, these lines were equally applicable to poetry, which some people would simply never understand, and which even good readers needed to approach in the right way.

A poem, then, becomes a way to separate an audience into factions. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler. Divided, we might say, by the road taken. Divided when the process of choosing gives way to the fact of choice. Used with permission of Penguin Press. Created by Grove Atlantic and Electric Literature. VIA Penguin Press.