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    Stopping by Woods On A Snowy Evening1

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    ron avi

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    Stopping by Woods On A Snowy Evening1

    Uploaded by

    ron avi
    11 views2 pages

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    Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening1

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    11 views2 pages

    Stopping by Woods On A Snowy Evening1

    Uploaded by

    ron avi

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as docx, pdf, or txt
    of 2

    http://www.shmoop.

    com/stopping-by-woods-on-a-snowy-evening/

    In A Nutshell

    Maybe you've seen this little poem elegantly scrawled on a gift card. Perhaps your favorite teacher
    recited it to you and your classmates with a chilling, gravelly voice. Or perchance you simply came across
    it once upon a time and can't seem to get it out of your head. No matter what, we're willing to bet big
    money that you and this poem are already friends.

    Robert Frost wrote "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" in 1922, two years before winning the first
    of his four Pulitzer Prizes. The poem tells the story of a man traveling through some snowy woods on the
    darkest evening of the year, and he's pretty much in love with what he sees around him. He's on his way
    back to town, but he can't quite tear himself away from the lovely and dark woods.

    People love to talk about what this poem means. Some argue that it is simply a description of a man
    appreciating nature. Others would tell you that there is some heavy metaphor action going down, and
    that the poem is about death. And there are those who take it a step further and say that this poem
    addresses suicide. Nature-lovers see it as a piece that trumpets nature and that scorns civilization (take
    that, civilization!). You probably have your own idea of what this poem means. We at Shmoop have an
    inkling that the heart of this poem's awesomeness lies in how it sounds rather than in what it means,
    and so we're going to take some time to look at and listen to the sounds in this poem (see "Sound
    Check").

    Robert Frost is a beloved American poet, and many people associate him with nature and with the New
    England landscape, because, well, he liked to write about nature and the New England landscape. He
    was born in San Francisco (land of the sourdough), but spent most of his years in snowy places like
    Massachusetts and New Hampshire (land of the maple syrup).

    Frost is known for creating simple poems that can be interpreted on many different levels. He also loved
    to inject everyday, colloquial speech into his poems. He was big on sounds, often talking about how the
    sounds of words carry more meaning than the words themselves. Check it:

    "What we do get in life and miss so often in literature is the sentence

    sounds that underlie the words. Words themselves do not convey meaning,

    and to [. . . prove] this, . . . let us take the example of two people who

    are talking on the other side of a closed door, whose voices can be heard

    but whose words cannot be distinguished. Even though the words do not

    carry, the sound of them does, and the listener can catch the meaning of
    the conversation. . . . [T]o me a sentence is not interesting merely in

    conveying a meaning of words. It must do something more; it must convey a

    meaning by sound." (Source)

    So, if we follow Mr. Frost's advice, we shouldn't be so concerned with what this poem means as
    concerned with how it means. Let's warm up our vocal chords and perk up our ears, because something
    tells us we're going to be reciting and listening to "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" until the
    wee hours of the night.

    WHY SHOULD I CARE?

    Have you ever wanted to escape from the world for a little while? Perhaps to go watch some woods fill
    up with snow? Leave Facebook to accumulate friend requests and wall posts for you, let the e-mails pile
    up, record a mischievous away message on your cell phone, stuff the homework, the papers, and the
    tests under the bed? Well, then this is a poem for you.

    Sometimes we crave a little vacation from responsibility. Sometimes we get hungry for alone time like
    the speaker does in "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening." In a world in which we are constantly
    stimulated by the Internet, TV, phones, and ads, and in a world in which we are busy little bees, do we
    get to spend much time alone anymore? Do we have time to stop and smell the roses?

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