Salome, by Carol Ann Duffy

Two references in the New Testament of the Bible, in the Gospels according to Mark and Matthew, give us the background to the character of Salome. Briefly, she danced for King Herod who was so delighted that he said he would give Salome whatever she asked for. Salome, prompted by her mother Herodias, asked for the head of John the Baptist, who had said that Herodias' marriage to Herod was unlawful. Herod had no choice but to send an executioner to John the Baptist, who was in prison. His head was brought to Salome 'in a dish', and she presented it to her mother.

In her poem “Salome”, Carol Ann Duffy adopts the persona of the dancer, but she doesn't sound like a biblical character at all. The impression is of a contemporary girl or young woman. The narrator tells us at the start of the poem 'I'd done it before' and says she will probably do it again: do what again? Salome has woken up with a head on the pillow next to her, and she doesn't even know whose it is. She doesn't seem to think that's important, either. It may not sound too out of the ordinary; people might have too much to drink and not remember what happened when they wake up the next morning. Salome tells us that the man is 'Good-looking' with 'dark hair'; so far, so good. Then, however, she says that the hair is 'rather matted' and that the beard is a lighter shade of red than it had been. It begins to sound as though the head is blood stained. Salome goes on to say that the 'deep lines around the eyes' could be caused by laughter, but she thinks more likely by pain. His mouth is 'crimson', another sign of blood. When she kisses his lips, they are 'Colder than pewter', a simile that tells us that he is dead. She tries to remember his name: 'Peter?' ends the first stanza.

Duffy links the second stanza with the first by opening it with more possible names: “Simon? Andrew? John?” They are all names of Jesus' disciples, and this is the first direct biblical reference. Salome then turns to her need to treat her hangover, wanting tea with 'dry toast'. The fact that she 'rang for a maid' makes it clear that she is from a high-class family. (Salome was the step-daughter of King Herod.) When the maid comes up with breakfast, Salome appreciates the 'innocent clatter' of the crockery, the tidying up, and the maid's conversation, described as her 'regional' patter. The second stanza closes with Salome's admission that she has a hangover and is in a dreadful state after a night on the tiles: 'wrecked as I was from a night on the batter.'

The third stanza opens with the brief but clear announcement 'Never again!' The focus now switches to Salome's determination to 'clean up' her act. She is determined to get fit, as well as to give up alcohol ('booze'), cigarettes ('fags') and sex – a cluster of three. As her thoughts turn to sex, she realises that she has to 'turf out' the man she slept with the previous night. She refers to him initially as the 'blighter', giving the impression of a nuisance, then the 'beater or biter', alluding to either physical violence or sexual perversion, perhaps. The stanza ends with the description that he had come to bed 'like a lamb to the slaughter', a simile that has biblical connotations and is ironic as he has in fact been killed.

The fourth and final stanza, which is also the shortest, begins with Salome looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes 'glitter' – is it from a thought in her mind, or could it even be tears? She makes a sudden action, flinging back the sheets that are 'sticky red' with blood. Her comment on what she sees is 'ain't life a bitch', but actually it seems that Salome herself is the bitch. In the poem's closing line, she reveals that under the sheets is the man's head 'on a platter', just the way that John the Baptist's head had been brought to Salome.

One of the most striking elements of the poem “Salome” is Duffy's skilful use of language. There are alliterative phrases, such as 'clatter / of cups', 'clearing of clutter' and 'the blighter / the beater or biter', the last of which are also half rhymes. Running throughout the poem is a series of words ending in '-er': 'lighter', 'laughter' and 'pewter', for example, in the first stanza; these are also half rhymes. Others are complete rhymes but are dotted around in the poem: 'matter', 'flatter', 'clatter', 'batter', 'latter', and the final word 'platter'. Duffy avoids a restricting, traditional rhyming pattern, but the use of rhyme here and there throughout creates a unity, like a thread running through. Some of these words, such as 'clutter' and 'clatter' are also onomatopoeic. They add to the poem's fast rhythm which is in keeping with Salome's coldness or lack of emotion. The four stanzas are all of different lengths, and the lines vary between short, medium and long quite randomly. It is as though thoughts are popping in and out of Salome's mind as she deals with her hangover and flits from one pattern of thought to another. Duffy uses ellipsis twice in the first stanza, 'how to flatter …' to create a pause; she also uses enjambment here and there to extend an idea or a description.

“Salome” is a poem that shocks by the narrator's flippant attitude, and Duffy achieves this effect perfectly. The language itself is informal, contemporary and includes a few slang phrases such as 'a night on the batter' or 'ain't life a bitch'. Above all, the combination of the poem's rhythm and Duffy's skilful use of rhyme and half rhyme throughout the poem give an almost humorous tone to the dark theme. “Salome” paints a picture of decadence, of a dancer who has revelled in nights filled with alcohol, smoking and sex. Just when she realises the error of her ways and decides things will have to change, she discovers the severed head under the sheets. Duffy brings the poem to a dramatic conclusion, saving this image for the final line. 

Patrolling Barnegat - Walt Whitman

'Patrolling Barnegat' is a poem that explores nature in all its fury, during a storm at sea. Whitman begins with the repetition of 'wild', leaving us in no doubt as to the mood of the poem. The focus is immediately made clear by the words 'storm' and 'sea'. The personification in the second line, 'roar of the gale', describes the ferocity of the wind, but there is also an 'incessant undertone muttering' – a more subtle sound that never lets up. Sound is again emphasised in the third line with 'Shouts of demoniac laughter'; this is no happy sound, but one associated with evil that is 'piercing' the air every so often.

The cluster of three – 'Waves, air, midnight' – at the start of line four add to the atmosphere, as we now know that this is occurring in the darkest hour. These three are referred to as the 'savagest trinity', a most dangerous combination. Line five tells us that the 'milk-white combs', the crests of the waves, can be distinguished among the shadows, and they are 'careering,' giving a sense of wild, uncontrolled movement. In line six Whitman uses alliteration to create an image of snow falling on the shore: 'On beachy slush and sand spirts of snow fierce slanting'; the repetition of the s gives an impression of the sound of melting snow hitting the ground.

Line seven reminds us of the darkness with 'murk' and the severity of the gale in the phrase 'easterly death-wind' – lives may in fact be in danger. The final word of this line, 'breasting', signals the presence of the coastguards confronting the wind. In line eight they are moving forward, 'watchful and firm' through the 'cutting swirl and spray' of the wind, snow and waves. Line nine is a snatch of conversation in parentheses, as an object is spotted in the distance that may be the wreck of a ship. Someone asks if the red light is flashing, as conditions make this difficult to ascertain.

In line ten the 'slush and sand' of line six are reiterated, and the coastguards are described as 'tireless' as they trudge along until daybreak. Line eleven tells is that they make their way through the storm 'steadily' and 'slowly', and once again the sound is described as a 'hoarse roar', rough and fierce. It is relentless, 'never remitting', echoing the 'incessant ... muttering' of the second line. Line twelve emphasises again that it is midnight, and echoes the alliterative 'milk-white combs careering' of line five.

In line thirteen a direct reference is finally made to the coastguards who are the subject of the poem. They are seen as 'a group of dim, weird forms', a description that again underlines the darkness and difficult conditions which make it impossible to see clearly. They are 'struggling, the night confronting', emphasising just how hard it is for them to move along the shore during a storm and in darkness. The final line of the poem refers again to the 'savage trinity' of line four, in other words the waves, the air and the night. The patrollers are watching all of these 'warily', vigilant, knowing that disaster may strike at any moment.

Were it not for the snatches of conversation in line nine, the poem would consist of one long sentence, creating the impression of the constant wildness of the storm, unceasing. Even in line nine, the exclamation mark and the first question mark are not followed by capital letters, as though separate sentences were not intended. There is no real rhyme scheme, but each line ends with an -ing form, emphasising the movement as the waves lash on the shore and the wind blows mercilessly.

Walt Whitman has painted a picture of nature at its harshest and shown how those who patrolled Barnegat Bay in New Jersey braved such adverse conditions, ever watchful for those in danger at sea.