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For The Union Dead Poem Summary line by line

For the Union Dead is a poem by Robert Lowell that explores themes of memory, history, and societal change. The poem, which was written in 1960, addresses the Civil War, Boston’s change, and the poet’s own thoughts on the past and present.

For The Union Dead Poem Summary

“The old South Boston Aquarium stands”
- The poem starts off with a contemplation of the South Boston Aquarium, emphasizing its historical importance.
“in a Sahara of snow now.”
- The aquarium’s state has drastically changed; it is now described as abandoned and snow-covered.
“Its broken windows are boarded.”
- The aquarium is in a run-down state, with broken windows that are currently boarded up, as the poet observes.
“The bronze weathervane cod has lost half its scales.”
- The description of a damaged weathervane cod suggests the decay and neglect of maritime symbols.
“The airy tanks are dry.”
- The once-filled tanks in the aquarium are now empty, emphasizing a loss of life and vibrancy.
“Once my nose crawled like a snail on the glass;”
- The poet recalls a personal memory of visiting the aquarium and interacting with the fish.
“my hand tingled”
- The poet vividly describes the physical sensations associated with the memory, connecting the past to the present.
“to burst the bubbles drifting from the noses of the cowed, compliant fish.”
- The poet remembers the innocence and wonder of bursting bubbles created by the fish in the aquarium.
“My hand draws back.”
- The poet, in the present moment, pulls back from the memory, suggesting a sense of reluctance or loss.
“I often sigh still for the dark”
- The poet expresses a longing for the past, specifically the darkness of the aquarium, which contrasts with the current state of the world.
“geisha in her crypt.”
- The use of “geisha” adds an exotic element to the memory, while “crypt” suggests a burial or entombment of the past.
“I have lost my way indefinitely”
- The poet acknowledges a sense of disorientation and loss, both personally and culturally.
“in this frog-strangled Bermuda triangle”
- The imagery of a “frog-strangled Bermuda triangle” conveys a sense of confusion and decay in the current cultural landscape.
“they invite the wedding of the waters.”
- The poet describes political figures inviting the joining of two bodies of water, possibly symbolizing a union or reconciliation.
“They are still raw.”
- The political changes are described as “raw,” indicating a lack of refinement or development.
“The grass is beaten yellow”
- The poet describes the physical landscape, noting the impact of human activity on the grass.
“The governor, the mayor, the senator”
- Political figures are introduced, suggesting a contrast between past and present leadership.
“Are on the march, are on the make,”
- Political figures are portrayed as actively pursuing their agendas, possibly at the expense of historical preservation.
“and all the easy virtue of the past”
- The phrase “easy virtue” conveys a sense of moral laxity or indifference to historical values.
“is creeping from brain to brain.”
- The spread of “easy virtue” suggests a pervasive and insidious influence on collective consciousness.
“But monument to Concord,”
- A monument to Concord, referring to the historic battle during the American Revolution, is introduced.
“it has been shot at again.”
- The violence directed at the monument symbolizes a disregard for historical symbols and values.
“The first shot smashed the stereotypes”
- The first shot at the monument is described as shattering stereotypes, possibly alluding to a challenge to established norms.
“They are letting in the jungle”
- The metaphor of “letting in the jungle” suggests an encroachment of chaos into the cultural and historical landscape.
“They are collecting”
- The poet describes a process of collecting, hinting at the preservation of historical artifacts or memories.
“the hill that used to go down to the river,”
- The alteration of the landscape, particularly the hill leading to the river, signifies the transformation of the physical environment.
“gathering stone by stone into a little hill”
- The act of gathering stones to form a new hill suggests an attempt to reconstruct or reclaim a sense of history and continuity.
“of the city of Boston.”
- The hill becomes a symbolic representation of the city of Boston, embodying its history and resilience.
“Yet the place here is somehow noble.”
- Despite the decay and societal changes, the poet finds a certain nobility or dignity in the current place.
“But the place is about to be given away”
- The impending loss of the place, possibly to commercial interests, is foreshadowed.
“to what is called progress.”
- The poet critiques the concept of “progress” for its potential to disregard valuable aspects of the past.
“Last summer they hung yellow balustrades”
- The poet recalls the addition of yellow balustrades, suggesting a superficial attempt at beautification.
“like Japanese lanterns along Commonwealth Avenue.”
- The use of “Japanese lanterns” implies decorative but ultimately superficial ornamentation.
“We have fewer drunkards,”
- The reduction in the number of drunkards is noted, possibly indicating a shift in societal behaviors.
“The old South Boston Aquarium stands”
- The poem returns to the image of the South Boston Aquarium, emphasizing its endurance as a symbol of the past.
“its glass doubtful as the years before the Unforgiven.”
- The ambiguity of the glass suggests a lack of clarity or certainty regarding the past.

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For the Union Dead

The old South Boston Aquarium stands

in a Sahara of snow now. Its broken windows are boarded.

The bronze weathervane cod has lost half its scales.

The airy tanks are dry.

Once my nose crawled like a snail on the glass;

my hand tingled

to burst the bubbles

drifting from the noses of the cowed, compliant fish.

My hand draws back. I often sigh still

for the dark downward and vegetating kingdom

of the fish and reptile. One morning last March,

I pressed against the new barbed and galvanized

fence on the Boston Common. Behind their cage,

yellow dinosaur steamshovels were grunting

as they cropped up tons of mush and grass

to gouge their underworld garage.

Parking spaces luxuriate like civic

sandpiles in the heart of Boston.

A girdle of orange, Puritan-pumpkin colored girders

braces the tingling Statehouse,

shaking over the excavations, as it faces Colonel Shaw

and his bell-cheeked Negro infantry

on St. Gaudens’ shaking Civil War relief,

propped by a plank splint against the garage’s earthquake.

Two months after marching through Boston,

half the regiment was dead;

at the dedication,

William James could almost hear the bronze Negroes breathe.

Their monument sticks like a fishbone

in the city’s throat.

Its Colonel is as lean

as a compass-needle.

He has an angry wrenlike vigilance,

a greyhound’s gentle tautness;

he seems to wince at pleasure,

and suffocate for privacy.

He is out of bounds now. He rejoices in man’s lovely,

peculiar power to choose life and die—

when he leads his black soldiers to death,

he cannot bend his back.

On a thousand small town New England greens,

the old white churches hold their air

of sparse, sincere rebellion; frayed flags

quilt the graveyards of the Grand Army of the Republic.

The stone statues of the abstract Union Soldier

grow slimmer and younger each year—

wasp-waisted, they doze over muskets

and muse through their sideburns . . .

Shaw’s father wanted no monument

except the ditch,

where his son’s body was thrown

and lost with his “niggers.”

The ditch is nearer.

There are no statues for the last war here;

on Boylston Street, a commercial photograph

shows Hiroshima boiling

over a Mosler Safe, the “Rock of Ages”

that survived the blast. Space is nearer.

When I crouch to my television set,

the drained faces of Negro school-children rise like balloons.

Colonel Shaw

is riding on his bubble,

he waits

for the blessèd break.

The Aquarium is gone. Everywhere,

giant finned cars nose forward like fish;

a savage servility

slides by on grease.

Conclusion

“For the Union Dead” by Robert Lowell is a poignant exploration of memory, history, and societal transformation. The poem weaves together personal recollections, reflections on cultural decay, and critiques of contemporary politics. Through vivid imagery and poignant language, Lowell addresses the erosion of historical symbols, the impact of progress on cultural heritage, and the struggle to preserve a sense of identity in the face of societal changes. The central motif of the South Boston Aquarium, once vibrant and now abandoned, serves as a metaphor for the poet’s contemplation of the past and the challenges of navigating the present.

FAQ:

1. How does the poet use personal memories in the poem?

Lowell incorporates personal memories, such as visiting the aquarium, to evoke a sense of nostalgia and intimacy. These memories become a lens through which the poet reflects on broader cultural shifts and the impact of time.

2. What does the poem suggest about political figures and societal changes?

The poem critiques political figures for their role in societal changes, particularly the neglect of historical symbols. It suggests a disconnection between contemporary leadership and the preservation of cultural heritage.

3. What is the significance of the “wedding of the waters” and “raw” changes?

The “wedding of the waters” symbolizes the joining of two bodies of water, possibly representing a desire for unity or reconciliation. The term “raw” suggests that these changes are still in an early, unrefined stage.

4. How does the poem address the theme of progress?

The poem explores the concept of progress and its potential to erase or disregard valuable aspects of the past. Lowell critiques a superficial notion of progress that neglects historical preservation.