“On
Turning Ten” –Billy Collins
The
whole idea of it makes me feel
like
I'm coming down with something,
something
worse than any stomach ache
or
the headaches I get from reading in bad light—
a
kind of measles of the spirit,
a
mumps of the psyche,
a
disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.
You
tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but
that is because you have forgotten
the
perfect simplicity of being one
and
the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But
I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At
four I was an Arabian wizard.
I
could make myself invisible
by
drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At
seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.
But
now I am mostly at the window
watching
the late afternoon light.
Back
then it never fell so solemnly
against
the side of my tree house,
and
my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as
it does today,
all
the dark blue speed drained out of it.
This
is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as
I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It
is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time
to turn the first big number.
It
seems only yesterday I used to believe
there
was nothing under my skin but light.
If
you cut me I could shine.
But
now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I
skin my knees. I bleed.
The
first four lines, “The whole idea of it makes me feel / like I'm coming down
with something, / something worse than any stomach ache / or the headaches I
get from reading in bad light” fit perfectly with a childlike innocence that
Collins works hard to portray. The word “something” is repeated at the end of
the second and beginning of the third lines, an example of epizeuxis, a type of
repetition that restates a word or phrase twice in a row. Using this repetition,
especially of a word that most writers attempt to steer clear of, gives his
readers the idea that a child could easily be using these exact words to show
his feelings. He uses comparisons to “stomach ache[s]” and “headaches” to
further this impression, that a child conveys these feelings.
The last three lines of the first
stanza, though, move into more complex territory. Collins uses three metaphors
to describe the speaker’s feelings on turning ten, “a kind of measles of the
spirit, / a mumps of the psyche, / a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.”
These metaphors are incredibly complex, using language that would not typically
be associated with a ten year old. Most children that age could not describe a
“spirit,” a “psyche,” or a “soul,” let alone compare them to different physical
ailments. This is precisely what makes it poetic, for lack of a better term.
These three physical illnesses mirror the physicality that he uses in the
beginning, the “stomach ache” and “headache” and makes the ailments more complex.
Not only are these three phrases examples of metaphor, they use several
rhetorical devices simultaneously: asyndeton, which is omission of
conjunctions in a series; hyperbole, which is exaggeration, loosely; and
appositive, which is a restatement of a noun phrase immediately after first stating
it. Some might argue the use of appositive here, but I would accept it as
rhetorical device because these are three examples of illnesses.
Collins’
second stanza is playful, harkening back to the first four lines in which he
sets the tone for the remainder of the poem. The last four lines of this stanza
are particularly interesting, “At four I was an Arabian wizard. / I could make
myself invisible / by drinking a glass of milk a certain way. / At seven I was
a soldier, at nine a prince.” They are extremely childlike, but also use metaphor
to tell of the child’s progression through life. This child, the speaker of the
poem, was not literally a wizard, or invisible, or a soldier, or a prince, but
the metaphor makes it believable. In addition to this, the metaphor is not too heavy-handed—by
this, I mean that a child could easily speak these words without knowing that
he or she was using metaphor. It does not come off as pretentious; rather, it
illustrates the child’s great imagination. As in the first paragraph, Collins
uses asyndeton again when he does not use a conjunction in the line “At seven I
was a soldier, at nine a prince.” This particular line also uses prozeugma because
it does not restate the verb in the second part of the sentence. Instead, the
verb is implied.
The
third stanza is perhaps Collins’ best juxtaposition of childlike and complex.
The line “Back then it never fell so solemnly” has a very serious tone, but is
followed by “against the side of my tree house,” reminding the reader that this
is, in fact, a child’s perspective of the “afternoon light.” On the day of his
tenth birthday, this child experiences emotion far beyond his or her years,
saying that “my bicycle never leaned against the garage / as it does today, /
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.” Again, Collins uses juxtaposition
of childlike innocence and complex rhetorical language to convey his speaker’s
feelings. Hyperbole and personification lend to the serious tone, but then the
reader is reminded that this is just a child who rides his or her bike, but
this is followed by the line reading that the bike has had “all the dark blue speed
drained out of it.” The choice of blue is intentional here, perhaps a bit cliché,
but shows the feeling of sadness that progressively gains throughout the poem.
The
fourth stanza explicitly states that the speaker is sad, which goes against typical
poetic convention. Most poets prefer to show rather than tell emotion, but
Collins does both. The speaker uses grandiose language, such as, “I walk
through the universe in my sneakers.” The notion of walking through the
universe is grand and borders on hyperbole, yet again, but he follows it with
“in my sneakers,” a very childlike phrase. This heightens the progression of
the poem, from simple to more complex as the end approaches.
The
final stanza is the culmination of these ideas. The child realizes that he is
human, above all, and that aging is inevitable, even at the age of ten. The
“sidewalks of life” is a very abstract phrase but is chosen intentionally to be
abstract. He mirrors this abstraction with two very concrete statements in the
final line, “I skin my knees. I bleed.” These are extremely childlike in their
tone and content, but against the rest of the stanza, they make perfect sense. The
poem, in its entirety, is an extended metaphor, or conceit, for life. Aging
never becomes less difficult, particularly as you grow older, but complexity
and playfulness must find a balance in order to survive and be effective, in
this poem, just as in life.
This poem could be read and understood
by a ten year-old, as well as studied by college students, which I believe is
part of Collins’ intention. The language is simple enough and straightforward
enough for a child to comprehend, but complex enough that a senior Literature
major (that’d be me, folks) can study how Collins uses specific rhetorical
devices and poetic conventions to convey a certain meaning. Of course, people
can read his accessible poetry for fun and not for academic reasons, which puts
Collins in several unique activity systems—for example, students, parents,
children, teachers might all look at this poem or collection of poems and get
completely different meanings. I do question who Collins’ target audience is
with this poetry, which is fairly indicative of his writing style, and suppose
that maybe he does not have one specific audience in mind. Perhaps that’s exactly
what drives his writing style in the first place. This interpretation of the
poem would be totally inappropriate for some contexts, and I recognize that,
but that’s half the fun in interpretation!
--Ashley Dillard
Image Credit: http://wheretheclassroomends.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/poet-definition-image.jpg
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