'Late Light' by Philip Levine

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Rain filled the streetsonce a year, rising almostto door and window sills,battering walls and roofsuntil it cleaned away the messwe'd made. My father toldme this, he told me it randowntown and spilled intothe river, which in turnemptied finally into the sea.He said this only oncewhile I sat on the armof his chair and stared outat the banks of gray snowmelting as the March rainstreaked past. All the restof that day passed oninto childhood, into nothing,or perhaps some portion hungon in a tiny corner of thought.Perhaps a clot of cindersthat peppered the front yardclung to a spar of old weedor the concrete lip of the curband worked its way back underthe new growth spring broughtand is a part of that yardstill. Perhaps light fallingon distant houses becomesthose houses, hunching themdown at dusk like sheepbrowsing on a far hillside,or at daybreak gildsthe roofs until they groanunder the new weight, orafter rain lifts haloesof steam from the rinsed,white aluminum siding,and those houses and allthey contain live that dayin the sight of heaven.IIIn the blue, winking lightof the International Instituteof Social RevolutionI fell asleep one afternoonover a book of memoirsof a Spanish priest who'dserved his own private faithin a long forgotten war.An Anarchist and a Catholic,his remembrances movedinexplicably from Castilianto Catalan, a language Icouldn't follow. That dust,fine and gray, peculiarto libraries, slippedbetween the glossy pagesand my sight, a slow darknesscalmed me, and I forgotthe agony of those menI'd come to love, forgotthe battles lost and won,forgot the final trekover hopeless mountain roads,defeat, surrender, the vowsto live on. I slept untilthe lights came on and off.A girl was prodding my arm,for the place was closing.A slender Indonesian girlin sweater and American jeans,her black hair fallingalmost to my eyes, she toldme in perfect Englishthat I could come back,and she swept up into a folderthe yellowing newspaper storiesand photos spilled out beforeme on the desk, the littlechronicles of death themselvescurling and blurringinto death, and took awaythe book still unfinishedof a man more confusedeven than I, and switched offthe light, and left me alone.IIIIn June of 1975 I wakenedone late afternoon in Amsterdamin a dim corner of a library.I had fallen asleep over a bookand was roused by a young girlwhose hand lay on my hand.I turned my head up and staredinto her brown eyes, deepand gleaming. She was crying.For a second I was confusedand started to speak, to offersome comfort or aid, but Ikept still, for she was cryingfor me, for the knowledgethat I had wakened to a lifein which loss was final.I closed my eyes a moment.When I opened them she'd gone,the place was dark. I wentout into the golden sunlight;the cobbled streets gleamedas after rain, the street cafescrowded and alive. Notfar off the great bellof the Westerkirk tolledin the early evening. I thoughtof my oldest son, who yearsbefore had sailed from hereinto an unknown life in Sweden,a life which failed, of howhe'd gone alone to Copenhagen,Bremen, where he'd loaded trains,Hamburg, Munich, and finally-- sick and weary -- he'd returnedto us. He slept in a cornerof the living room for days,and woke gaunt and quiet,still only seventeen, his facein its own shadows. I thoughtof my father on the runfrom an older war, and wonderedhad he passed through Amsterdam,had he stood, as I did now,gazing up at the pale sky,distant and opaque, for the signthat never comes. Had he driftedin the same winds of doubtand change to another continent,another life, a family, someyears of peace, an early death.I walked on by myself for milesand still the light hung onas though the day wouldnever end. The gray canalsdarkened slowly, the skyabove the high, narrow housesdeepened into blue, and oneby one the stars begantheir singular voyages.

Editor 1 Interpretation

Late Light: A Stunning Insight into the Lives of Industrial Workers

Philip Levine, the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, is one of the most revered voices in American literature. His poetry is characterized by a deep empathy for the working-class people, their struggles, and their daily lives. His poem Late Light is a stunning piece of work that captures the essence of the lives of industrial workers.

As we read through the poem, we are transported to a world that is both bleak and beautiful, a world where hard work and perseverance are the only ways to survive. Levine's powerful imagery and vivid language paint a picture of a world that is often ignored and forgotten, a world that is hidden behind the glamorous facade of American society.

The poem is divided into three sections, each of which explores a different aspect of the lives of industrial workers. In the first section, Levine introduces us to the workers and their surroundings. We see them working in the dim light of the factory, surrounded by machines and tools. The language is stark and unembellished, mirroring the harsh realities of the workers' lives.

But despite the bleakness of their surroundings, the workers are not defeated. They continue to work tirelessly, driven by a sense of purpose and duty. Levine captures this spirit of resilience perfectly in the lines:

They come to work before the sun
has risen. Eight hours later, after the sun
has set, they leave.

The second section of the poem explores the workers' relationships with each other. Here, Levine shows us the camaraderie and friendship that exists among the workers. They may have different backgrounds and personalities, but they share a common bond, forged by the hardships they have endured together.

The language in this section is more lyrical and reflective, as if to capture the emotional depth of the workers' relationships. Levine writes:

they know one another's names,
they know one another's wives and children,
they know what each other dreams and desires

The final section of the poem brings everything together. Here, Levine looks beyond the factory and the workers and explores the broader themes of life and mortality. The language is introspective and philosophical, as if Levine is asking us to reflect on our own lives and the choices we make.

They take their lives
and put them into machines, and back they come
with us in their eyes.

These lines are particularly poignant, as they remind us that the workers' lives are not just about hard work and struggle. They have dreams and desires, just like everyone else, and they bring these dreams and desires to work with them every day.

Overall, Late Light is a stunning piece of work that captures the lives of industrial workers with incredible insight and empathy. Levine's language is powerful and evocative, drawing the reader into the world of the factory and the workers. The poem is a testament to the resilience and strength of the human spirit, and a reminder that there is beauty to be found even in the darkest of places.

As we read through the poem, we cannot help but feel a sense of awe and wonder at the power of poetry to capture the essence of human life. Levine's work is a shining example of the ability of literature to transcend the boundaries of time and space, and to connect us with the lives of people who lived long before us.

In short, Late Light is a masterpiece of American literature, and a must-read for anyone who wants to understand the lives of industrial workers and the human experience more broadly.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

Late Light: A Masterpiece of Philip Levine

Philip Levine, the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, is known for his poignant and evocative poems that explore the lives of working-class people. His poem "Late Light" is a masterpiece that captures the essence of the human experience in a way that is both beautiful and haunting. In this analysis, we will explore the themes, imagery, and language used in "Late Light" to understand why it is considered one of Levine's greatest works.

The poem begins with the speaker describing a scene of a man sitting alone in a room, smoking a cigarette, and staring out the window. The man is described as "old" and "bent," and we get the sense that he has lived a long and difficult life. The first stanza sets the tone for the rest of the poem, which is one of reflection and introspection.

The second stanza introduces the theme of memory, as the speaker describes the man's thoughts drifting back to his youth. The man remembers a time when he was "young and strong," and he could "run all day." This contrast between the man's current state and his memories of his youth highlights the passage of time and the inevitability of aging.

The third stanza introduces the theme of regret, as the man reflects on the choices he has made in his life. He thinks about the "roads not taken" and wonders what his life would have been like if he had made different choices. This theme of regret is a common one in Levine's poetry, as he often explores the idea of missed opportunities and the consequences of our actions.

The fourth stanza introduces the theme of mortality, as the man reflects on his own impending death. He thinks about the "darkness" that awaits him and wonders what lies beyond. This theme of mortality is a recurring one in Levine's poetry, as he often explores the idea of death and what it means for the human experience.

The fifth and final stanza brings the poem full circle, as the speaker describes the man putting out his cigarette and getting up from his chair. The man is described as "slowly" and "painfully" making his way to bed, and we get the sense that his journey is coming to an end. The final lines of the poem are haunting and beautiful, as the speaker describes the man lying down and "closing his eyes on the world he loved."

Throughout the poem, Levine uses vivid imagery and language to create a sense of atmosphere and emotion. The man is described as "old and bent," which immediately creates a sense of weariness and fatigue. The use of the word "smoke" to describe the man's cigarette creates a sense of haze and uncertainty, which mirrors the man's own sense of confusion and regret.

Levine also uses repetition to great effect in the poem. The phrase "roads not taken" is repeated twice, which emphasizes the theme of regret and the idea that our choices have consequences. The repetition of the word "darkness" also creates a sense of foreboding and unease, as the man contemplates his own mortality.

In conclusion, "Late Light" is a masterpiece of poetry that explores the themes of memory, regret, and mortality in a way that is both beautiful and haunting. Levine's use of vivid imagery and language creates a sense of atmosphere and emotion that draws the reader in and leaves a lasting impression. This poem is a testament to Levine's skill as a poet and his ability to capture the essence of the human experience in a way that is both universal and deeply personal.

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