Ode To My Socks.pptx

Ode to my socks by Pablo Neruda

AINI ADILA PINKY

Maru Mori brought me a pair of socks which she knitted herself with her sheepherder's hands, two socks as soft as rabbits. I slipped my feet into them as if they were two cases knitted with threads of twilight and goatskin,

Violent socks, my feet were two fish made of wool, two long sharks sea blue, shot through by one golden thread, two immense blackbirds, two cannons, my feet were honored in this way by these heavenly socks. They were so handsome for the first time my feet seemed to me unacceptable like two decrepit firemen, firemen unworthy of that woven fire, of those glowing socks.

Nevertheless, I resisted the sharp temptation to save them somewhere as schoolboys keep fireflies, as learned men collect sacred texts, I resisted the mad impulse to put them in a golden cage and each day give them birdseed and pieces of pink melon. Like explorers in the jungle who hand over the very rare green deer to the spit and eat it with remorse, I stretched out my feet and pulled on the magnificent socks and then my shoes.

The moral of my ode is this: beauty is twice beauty and what is good is doubly good when it is a matter of two socks made of wool in winter.

ANALYSIS OF THE POEM

1) SYMBOLISM, IMAGERY Animal Imagery • The animals in this poem are all beautifully described and used as metaphors for the woollen socks. The idea is that the socks come to life—like real, live animals—through the use of figurative language. Notice that there are animals from all over: the sea, the sky, and the earth. This really anchors the socks in the natural world from various angles, and also makes it easy for almost anyone to relate. • Lines 6-7: The first animals to show up are rabbits, and they are used in a simile to describe the texture of the socks, which is really soft. Mentioning the way that the socks feel, in addition to how they look, gives the poem more dimensions as it uses more of the five senses. • Lines 17-19: Here it's not the socks that are being compared to animals, but the speaker's feet. They become, when wearing the socks, two woollen fish. This has to do with how they look— probably kind of long and skinny—and also how they feel, which is woollen. The clash in the terms "woollen" and "fish" has the effect of reminding the reader that this is a metaphor.

• Lines 20-21: The fish-feet transform into "two long sharks / of lapis blue." This is an extension of the previous metaphor, now being more specific about what type of fish we're dealing with and what color the socks-sharks are. • Line 24: From the sea to the sky, now the feet are gigantic birds: "two mammoth blackbirds." This tells us more about the color of the yarn, but also continues the idea of the speaker's feet having wild, unrestrained freedom—as fish, as sharks, and now as a birds.

• Lines 46-52: Through another simile, the socks are here compared to fireflies, because the speaker thinks they are so beautiful that it would be better to save them, like children who trap fireflies in a bottle. The thing is, though, as any ex-child knows, fireflies don't last long trapped in a jar. The socks are meant to be free, or, as it were, worn. • Lines 56-63: Here the socks are compared to caged bids in a metaphor. This extends the idea of the trapped fireflies. If the speaker were to save the socks and never wear them, they would be like beautiful pets, but wouldn't be free. • Lines 63-69: Finally, we get back to the forest and the socks are like a poor little deer that was killed and eaten in order for explorers to survive. Even if the hunters regret having to kill the deer (or, in this case, wear the socks), it's necessary for their survival.

LIGHT AND DARK IMAGERY • Symbol Analysis • These aren't your everyday, run-of-the-mill socks gang. Their craft inspires our speaker, who spends a lot of time describing the socks in terms of light and darkness. No, it's not like someone's suddenly invented socks to go along with those kids' shoes that light up when you run in them. (They are cool, we must admit.) In the case of this poem, the light of the socks comes to represent their impact on the speaker, and the power they hold over his imagination (not to mention, his feet!). • Lines 13-15: The socks are described as "woven / with threads of / dusk." This is a really poetic description, which differs from the matter-of-fact subject of the poem. The juxtaposition of this fantastic dusk-thread with the ordinary "sheep's wool" is a great way to understand the poem, which is out to make elements of the everyday poetic. • Lines 26-33: These lines call the socks "celestial," having to do with the sky or heaven. In fact, the socks are so elevated that they give honor to the speaker's feet just by being worn. In this case, the light associated with these socks is a holy or sacred thing. • Lines 39-45: Now the socks are lit-up all the way—they're a "woven fire" and "luminous." While before the light-dark imagery referred to dusk (which is the end of the light of day) and things celestial (anything to do with the sky), this is full-on brightness. Full on! The socks have completely surpassed everything around them with their beauty, especially the speaker's feet.

COLOR IMAGERY • Sure, this may be a small, straightforward poem about socks, but that doesn't mean that this is a dull, humdrum reflection. Nope. The thing is, this speaker really, really likes these socks—as the poem details for us. On top of all the metaphorical ways he thinks about them, he also finds all sorts of color in them. The vibrant, colorful imagery associated with the socks is just another way for the speaker to demonstrate his excitement about, and appreciation for, these two tootsie-warmers. Yay, socks! • Lines 21-22: The feet in these lines become lapis blue sharks. Lapis conjures up all sorts of beautiful blues, and also might make you think of the lapis philosophorum—the philosopher's stone—which gives alchemists the power to transform minerals into gold, or, as the case may be, feet into sharks. • Lines 23-24: The sharks from the previous lines are "shot / with a golden thread." The thread reminds us that we're dealing with socks, even among all the willy-nilly transformations, and the golden color gives the socks value. Even though they're ordinary, woolen footwear, this shot of gold makes them fit for a king. • Line 25: The feet are now blackbirds, and the color-specific species makes you wonder just what color these socks are. They've gone from blue to gold to black, and all this color changing is just part of the magical transformations taking place in this poem. • Lines 32-33: The socks are called "celestial," which is a reference to the sky or the heavens, but is also the name for sky-blue in Spanish. The socks are almost like a precious jewel that changes color as the light hits it. • Lines 59-60: The gold is back! This time it's part of a birdcage made of gold. Golden cages are a common theme in poetry, and usually have to do with a rich person who is sad or bored with their riches, because they feel trapped. Here the speaker doesn't go the poor little rich girl route, and instead frees the socks from a golden doom. • Line 63: The melon in this line sounds delicious—those socks would have had a good life in the cage! But maybe the rosy pink melon flesh is a reference to another kind of flesh. Perhaps the speaker feels like he wants to save his socks for when his feet are perfectly fresh and powdered, but he knows that's not going to happen, so he sticks the stinky feet right in.

2) FORM AND METER •

Free Verse

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Form and meter? We hate to break it to you, but this poem isn't in a specific form or meter. Did Neruda leave his poetry cap at home the day he wrote this? Nope. We think not. More likely is that this poem is a challenge to the traditional ode. The ancient Greeks and Romans followed complicated formats to write their odes, but here Neruda just throws that out and writes in short, choppy lines.

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The enjambment, or mid-sentence line breaks, are what creates this short, choppy style. One thing this does is make you keep reading the long, runon sentences, since there are no stopping points. It's like a long, woolen thread. The other thing it does is visually make the poem look like a long, skinny sock hanging on the page. What's more, these short lines are also very easy to follow, almost in an exaggerated way. Just check out line 74: "the." Right. Got it. How about line 77? "And." Woah, woah! Cool your jets there, Pablo! Our brains can only take so much.

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Well, our guess is that Pablo knew that already, and he was writing against the long, super-intricate, jammed-full-of-allusions kind of lines that keep poor English students up at night. Instead, here we get lines that are short, and simple—to the extreme.

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The general structure of the poem, too, is super-simple. The poem is divided into four stanzas, and each one has its own theme. The first one introduces the socks, the second compares them to lots of beautiful things, the third one talks about wanting to save them instead of ruining them by wearing them, and the fourth one gives the moral of the ode. No flashbacks, no mysteries—just a dude giving us a straightforward love poem to his socks.

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Neruda's emphasis on simplicity, and his insistence against old forms, also explains why the poem has no rhyme. Here again, we have another departure from tradition. For an ode—one of the most classic forms of poetry—this poem is certainly doing its own thing! All of these nontraditional elements are ways that this ode rejects elitist, snobby poetry and tries to bring poetry back—to the people!

3) SPEAKER • It's really tempting here to call the speaker Neruda himself, because of the reference to Maru Mori (see "Shout-Outs" for more on her), his actual friend who knitted the beloved socks. However, that's really the only clue linking the speaker to Neruda, and since we can't be sure that he was Maru Mori's only friend (she probably knitted socks for other people too, or maybe the whole thing was invented), we can't call the speaker Neruda with any degree of certainty. • What we do know is that the speaker was someone lucky enough to get a semi-famous person to knit them some socks, so that tells us that the speaker is probably in the intellectual or artistic circles of Chile (again, check out "Shout-Outs" for the skinny on Maru Mori). More than that, though, we can also infer that the speaker is someone who feels strongly about those handmade socks and wants to exalt them in a poem, while always reminding the reader of their real-life usefulness. • In this kind of praise, then, we can understand the speaker as someone who really appreciates craft, human creation, charity, and usefulness. In other words, this is not some high-falutin' fellow (we can just assume the speaker's a "he") who rushes off to the mountain top to praise the sun for rising. No, he's got his eye on the lived materials of daily life. Even there, or especially there, he finds things to appreciate. As readers, we're invited to explore that same kind of gratitude right along with him, which we think is just super-refreshing. Rather than grumbling about your latest iDevice because it doesn't edit 3-D movies as quickly as you'd like, try to appreciate the simpler things in life, things that come from the heart—like our speaker's socks!

ALLUSIONS • When poets refer to other great works, people, and events, it’s usually not accidental. Put on your super-sleuth hat and figure out why. • Cultural References • Maru Mori: She was the wife and muse of Chilean painter, Camilo Mori, and a friend of Neruda's. Her full name was Maruja Vargas de Mori. (1)