September 1913

September 1913 Summary and Analysis of Stanzas 1-2

Summary

Addressing a "you" in the second person, the speaker questions what "you" could possibly need or want, beyond fumbling for extra cash or saying prayers until death. After all, the speaker claims, praying and saving money are the two purposes for which people exist. Meanwhile, the dream of a "Romantic Ireland" is dead and gone—buried with "O'Leary." The speaker is referring to the Irish nationalist John O'Leary, who was imprisoned and exiled for his pro-independence activism. Once upon a time, the poem continues, certain names had such electrifying power that the sound of them could put a stop to children at play. These names of these legendary figures traveled the world like wind, though the people they belonged to didn't have time to say a prayer before the hangman spun the noose used for their executions. The speaker repeats that Romantic Ireland is dead and gone, "with O'Leary in the grave."

Analysis

These two stanzas make the same basic point, reiterated by a refrain that repeats in the closing lines of each stanza: namely, that the vision of a "Romantic" Ireland is now hopeless. While the poem never defines Romantic Ireland, it appears to be a version of Ireland that is, in a concrete sense, politically independent and free of British rule. It also appears to be, less concretely, a more beautiful and less mundane nation that lives up to the promise of its legendary folk heroes. However, while the two stanzas make the same argument, they do so from two different angles. The first of these two stanzas depicts present-day Ireland, showing just how thoroughly Romantic Ireland has died away. The second instead evokes the hope and excitement created by the idea of Romantic Ireland, before repeating that this excitement is now gone forever. Thus Yeats creates a juxtaposition between the ideal of Romantic Ireland and the disappointing reality of the present.

The first of these stanzas, in which that disappointing reality is depicted, is packed with verbal irony. The speaker states that prayer and saving money are mankind's only legitimate purposes, and he questions what humans could possibly want beyond these two things. But his manner is sarcastic, revealing that he feels not simply sad about the end of Romantic Ireland, but bitter and angry towards the current reality of Ireland. Moreover, this sarcasm suggests that modern Ireland's attitudes are so entrenched that, for the speaker, direct disagreement is not possible; instead, he chooses irony, a more oblique mode of attack. This first stanza also equates prayer, or religion, with saving money. This is a somewhat unexpected parallel. Traditionally, we might think of the religious realm as an unworldly, celestial one—the opposite of the practical drudgery of finances. However, Yeats positions these realms as two sides of the same coin. Both prayer and saving money are, in this poem, positioned as passive activities, oriented around waiting, routine, and accepting the preexisting authority structures of the church and the economy. Romantic Ireland, on the other hand, depends upon action, disruption, and rebellion against authority.

The following stanza contrasts utterly with the one before it, allowing a glimpse into a recent past where Romantic Ireland still thrived as an ideal, if not a reality. First, Yeats mentions "children at play," suggesting whimsy, in contrast to the bleak routines mentioned in the previous stanza. However, even children at play are only a backdrop against which the legendary names of Ireland's heroes can be heard. By mentioning that these names travel "like wind," Yeats creates an impression of physical lightness and freedom which, again, contrasts with the society described in the first stanza. The first stanza describes embodied experience with words like "fumbled," "shivering," and "bone," all of which suggest discomfort and pain. "Romantic Ireland," however, is an ideal, and is therefore in some sense free from the strictures of the body. Of course, this second stanza ends with the same hopeless refrain as the first. This time, however, the refrain serves not to reiterate the hopelessness of the prior lines, but rather to undercut their hopefulness.