Sad similitude

In the early poems of Lawrence Durrell we find lines with a rhythmic and syntactic similarity which almost amounts to a tic:

In all the sad seduction of your ways

and

When all the slow destruction of the mind

A short Teutonic word followed by a long Latinate word is a well-used tactic:  “sad seduction,” “slow destruction.”

There is nothing particularly good about these lines; in fact, they both suffer the minor flaw of having the word ‘of’ bear an albeit secondary iambic stress. This is a bit of awkward panel-beating in the line, denting the language a bit out of shape.

But behind these lines lurks the ghost of a line of a far greater craftsman: Alexander Pope.

In sad similitude of griefs to mine.

Here not only is ‘of’ not asked to bear an unnatural stress, but the fine balance of syllabic quantities across the line is expertly done. If we mark the caesura:

In sad similitude | of griefs to mine

We can see that in the first half of the line there are five short quantities and only one long: the -ude of ‘similitude.’ In the second half of the line there are three long quantities and only one short. If you crudely count a long quantity as twice a short, then each half line carries the exact same weight.

Nylon Smiles: Lawrence Durrell

Here is Lawrence Durrell, from a 1966 episode of Midday Dialogue:

"Let me take just one simple word, for example, an ordinary word, say 'nylon'. Supposing a poet wanted to write a poem about, say, a married couple that hated each other, and he said something like "Their satiric wicked nylon smiles". The use of the word incorporated in a poem would give a rather an interesting resonance because one always knows that gangsters wear those nyon things over their heads to rob banks - i.e. rob women - good Freud - and also anybody who's had a girl or is married to a girl knows how often the nylon goes wrong and there are ladders down it, so you get a wonderful series of reference off it."