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#89 Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault
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("profane", line 11, is "proface" in the original 1609 publication. "proface" was probably a misprint, but then "profane" doesn't seem quite right either. . . )
Despite its formalism, this sonnet conveys a striking psychological realism about self-effacement and self-abasement. The sonnets (and plays) are analysed in those kind of terms in books by Bernard J. Paris which I think has some truth though at times too limited by the psychologism. The counterpointing of love / hate /self /other in painful permutations like these is echoed in 'Knots' by R D Laing, who saw its destructiveness in his clinical practice. For 'Will' - Shakespeare or just the sonnetteer - it's not pathological, because it's just one part of a psychological cycle (as well as a sonnet cycle). But it can be serious for people who get stuck in it.
I read somewhere (where, I forget) that the word "hate" occurs far less frequently in the sonnets addressed to the Fair Youth than in those to the Dark Lady. Here, though, I have to say that the word packs a wallop.
But cannot the sonnet be read in quite the opposite sense? "You find fault with me, but I am not going to change anything for you." It is then a statement of pride and independence. The final couplet could mean that a resolution to cut off contact with the friend would lead to a great internal struggle ("debate") -- like a resolution to give up smoking. If I resolve to quit smoking, I cannot indulge myself by allowing myself to give in to the habit: I can have no pity for myself, hence the idea of hate -- I must hate myself.The poem is in any case a hypothesis about what might happen. I take the first two lines as meaning, "Suppose you left be because of some fault you saw in me, then I'll tell you what would happen:"
Martin wrote: "("profane", line 11, is "proface" in the original 1609 publication. "proface" was probably a misprint, but then "profane" doesn't seem quite right either. . . )"Or, 'profane' is key to the poem... this could be an apology for having spoken out of turn, possibly behind her back, or somehow having done or said something that was (so it seems) unforgivably offensive. According to Webster's secondary definition, "to debase by a wrong, unworthy, or vulgar use." And S is, like Gabriel says, offering self-abasement.
However, that first line makes it all sound like a "what if" proposition... "Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault," so have we come in at the middle of a conversation? Have they been discussing why/under what circumstances she might forsake him? Does he mean so what (I don't care) in that first line, because he would take himself to task far worse than she would?
I'm not sure about it being a statement of pride and indepence, tho...' I'll have to mull that one over.
Increasingly I think this a statment of independence."Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt,
Against thy reasons making no defence."
This seems to connect with an evaluation of S as a writer. "Lame" can hardly be taken literally, as a "halting gait" (limping walk) is not something you can choose to adopt: you either are lame or not. "Lame" today is regular slang for "feeble" ("That is so lame" etc.) If S is accused of lame writing, he will write as lamely as ever, ignoring his critics. The metre of poetry is made up of feet, and poets have been accused of hobbling,
"a crude composition of a journalistic nature, in awkward style
and jogtrot verse" (random choice from the internet)
And "I straight will halt", it seems to me, is a deliberate oxymoron. If you halt you don't walk straight.
I'm reminded of the powerful lines by Adrian Mitchell that opens "to whom it may concern",
I was run over by the truth one day.
Ever since the accident I’ve walked this way
The first line is a pentameter with regular feet
I wAs run Over bY the trUth one dAy
The second line's "hobbling gait" is how he walks after he's learnt the truth.
"straight" could also mean "straightaway" (I had no idea that it was all one word & exists in the dictionary as such), which means without delay, which seems to fit the poem.
Mod
So for me a large part of this discussion...is like Hamlet...(I see all the sonnets as a self discussion...no actual real lovers) as soliloquy.
We can not know what we feel or think until we talk about it and share it. It is an act of risk...t has to be said for a witness....and then the risk is what if we say something wrong, or terrible, or embarrassing? What if we reveal something we don't want to reveal?
We can't know what we think until we say it.
The quote is "How can I tell what I think till I see what I say?"
It comes from E.M. Forster's "Aspects of the Novel" (1927).
But it is Hamlet that actually teaches us this. It is the play. It is the act of playing and fantasy and writing....storytelling...feet making pace and words following...that we find out what we are and who we are.
How many times in this sonnet is speech or communication mentioned? For me this is a poem about talking and witness/self-witness/learning...and transforming....
Mod
the anecdote who was accused by her niece of being illogical. For some time she could not be brought to understand what logic was, and when she grasped its true nature she was not so much angry as contemptuous.
"Logic! Good gracious! What rubbish!" she exclaimed. "How can I tell what I think till I see what I say?" Her nieces, educated young women, thought that she was passée; she was really more up-to-date than they were.'
source: page 101, Aspects of the Novel by E. M. Forster, Harvest
Books, 1956 edition
Mod
say
comment
speak
making no defense
tongue
name
profane
tell
vow
debate
Mod
strange
profane
fault
no defense
ill
forskake
fault
offense
lameness
against they reason
disgrace
change
strangle
absent
no more shall dwell
wrong
debate
hate
against my self
Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,
And I will comment upon that offence.
Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt,
Against thy reasons making no defence.
Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill,
To set a form upon desired change,
As I'll myself disgrace, knowing thy will.
I will acquaintance strangle and look strange,
Be absent from thy walks, and in my tongue
Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,
Lest I, too much profane, should do it wrong,
And haply of our old acquaintance tell.
For thee, against myself, I'll vow debate;
For I must ne'er love him whom thou dost hate.