O Sweet Spontaneous by E. E. Cummings

E.E Cummings
The Wonder Himself

 sweet spontaneous

earth how often have

the

doting

 

fingers of

prurient philosophers pinched

and

poked

 

thee

, has the naughty thumb

of science prodded

thy

 

beauty, how

often have religions taken

thee upon their scraggy knees

squeezing and

 

                                                                              buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive

                                                                              gods

                                                                             (but

                                                                              true

 

                                                                      to the incomparable

                                                                        couch of death thy

                                                                             rhythmic

                                                                               lover

 

thou answerest

 

them only with

 

spring)

Hey, whoever said procrastination was a bad thing? While debated delving into Death and Dying studies, I observed my second edition Norton Anthology lying forlornly on its shelf, pages unopened in weeks, knowledge sitting there waiting to be grasped and understood by a reader who had yet to bother. Call me a hero, because today, I decided to SAVE A LIFE, please amuse amuse this crazy writer and her personification of a book for the time being, and help this poor work out in its purpose. Generally I don't bother looking anything up, life is about BEING SPONTANEOUS (I mean, not to state the obvious or anything), so i read the first thing I flipped to which happened to be "O Sweet Spontaneous" by E.E. Cummings, ironic right? What initially intrigued me about this piece was Cumming's word choices. By use of words such as "poke" and "pinched", Cummings practices alliteration and creates strong imagery of the Earth being caught in a struggle for existence as both philosophers, science, and religion question and tear at its initial being. It's almost as if Cummings is trying to emphasize that life and beauty of life are not to be analyzed or questioned, they are simply to "just be"- one should appreciate the beauty that surrounds them or it will be lost on them. There is a theme also that beauty is everlasting, though the Earth is in this never-ending struggle, spring will still come to grace us with its beauty and to go even further, there is hope that time moves on and things get better no matter how bad the struggle may be. And finally, there is a theme of life being the antithesis to death-how both go hand in hand. Usually I don't tend to look at the structure of a poem, but immediately upon reading one notices the odd line scheme. It starts off with five sections containing four lines each, then ends with three spaced out lines for emphasis. I read the first line of each section, tying them together, and in my mind this went along with the theme of the poem:
"Oh sweet spontaneous, fingers of thee, beauty, how, buffeting thee that though mightiest conceive, to the comparable couch of death they"(I think it's important to account in the second line as well in the sixth section to fully enhance the meaning)-In my mind, I think of the world and how when one disconnects from its beauty, and is the type to question and overanalyze what they are gifted with, they set themselves up so that the inconceivable death is that much closer. So, did Cummings really mean for such a hidden message? Or am I imagining that? Theres some food for thought for you to chew on readers.