'A Hundred Collars' by Robert Lee Frost
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Lancaster bore him--such a little town,
Such a great man. It doesn't see him often
Of late years, though he keeps the old homestead
And sends the children down there with their mother
To run wild in the summer--a little wild.
Sometimes he joins them for a day or two
And sees old friends he somehow can't get near.
They meet him in the general store at night,
Pre-occupied with formidable mail,
Rifling a printed letter as he talks.
They seem afraid. He wouldn't have it so:
Though a great scholar, he's a democrat,
If not at heart, at least on principle.
Lately when coming up to Lancaster
His train being late he missed another train
And had four hours to wait at Woodsville Junction
After eleven o'clock at night. Too tired
To think of sitting such an ordeal out,
He turned to the hotel to find a bed.
"No room," the night clerk said. "Unless----"
Woodsville's a place of shrieks and wandering lamps
And cars that shook and rattle--and one hotel.
"You say 'unless.'"
"Unless you wouldn't mind
Sharing a room with someone else."
"Who is it?"
"A man."
"So I should hope. What kind of man?"
"I know him: he's all right. A man's a man.
Separate beds of course you understand."
The night clerk blinked his eyes and dared him on.
"Who's that man sleeping in the office chair?
Has he had the refusal of my chance?"
"He was afraid of being robbed or murdered.
What do you say?"
"I'll have to have a bed."
The night clerk led him up three flights of stairs
And down a narrow passage full of doors,
At the last one of which he knocked and entered.
"Lafe, here's a fellow wants to share your room."
"Show him this way. I'm not afraid of him.
I'm not so drunk I can't take care of myself."
The night clerk clapped a bedstead on the foot.
"This will be yours. Good-night," he said, and went.
"Lafe was the name, I think?"
"Yes, Layfayette.
You got it the first time. And yours?"
"Magoon.
Doctor Magoon."
"A Doctor?"
"Well, a teacher."
"Professor Square-the-circle-till-you're-tired?
Hold on, there's something I don't think of now
That I had on my mind to ask the first
Man that knew anything I happened in with.
I'll ask you later--don't let me forget it."
The Doctor looked at Lafe and looked away.
A man? A brute. Naked above the waist,
He sat there creased and shining in the light,
Fumbling the buttons in a well-starched shirt.
"I'm moving into a size-larger shirt.
I've felt mean lately; mean's no name for it.
I just found what the matter was to-night:
I've been a-choking like a nursery tree
When it outgrows the wire band of its name tag.
I blamed it on the hot spell we've been having.
'Twas nothing but my foolish hanging back,
Not liking to own up I'd grown a size.
Number eighteen this is. What size do you wear?"
The Doctor caught his throat convulsively.
"Oh--ah--fourteen--fourteen."
"Fourteen! You say so!
I can remember when I wore fourteen.
And come to think I must have back at home
More than a hundred collars, size fourteen.
Too bad to waste them all. You ought to have them.
They're yours and welcome; let me send them to you.
What makes you stand there on one leg like that?
You're not much furtherer than where Kike left you.
You act as if you wished you hadn't come.
Sit down or lie down, friend; you make me nervous."
The Doctor made a subdued dash for it,
And propped himself at bay against a pillow.
"Not that way, with your shoes on Kike's white bed.
You can't rest that way. Let me pull your shoes off."
"Don't touch me, please--I say, don't touch me, please.
I'll not be put to bed by you, my man."
"Just as you say. Have it your own way then.
'My man' is it? You talk like a professor.
Speaking of who's afraid of who, however,
I'm thinking I have more to lose than you
If anything should happen to be wrong.
Who wants to cut your number fourteen throat!
Let's have a show down as an evidence
Of good faith. There is ninety dollars.
Come, if you're not afraid."
"I'm not afraid.
There's five: that's all I carry."
"I can search you?
Where are you moving over to? Stay still.
You'd better tuck your money under you
And sleep on it the way I always do
When I'm with people I don't trust at night."
"Will you believe me if I put it there
Right on the counterpane--that I do trust you?"
"You'd say so, Mister Man.--I'm a collector.
My ninety isn't mine--you won't think that.
I pick it up a dollar at a time
All round the country for the Weekly News,
Published in Bow. You know the Weekly News?"
"Known it since I was young."
"Then you know me.
Now we are getting on together--talking.
I'm sort of Something for it at the front.
My business is to find what people want:
They pay for it, and so they ought to have it.
Fairbanks, he says to me--he's editor--
Feel out the public sentiment--he says.
A good deal comes on me when all is said.
The only trouble is we disagree
In politics: I'm Vermont Democrat--
You know what that is, sort of double-dyed;
The News has always been Republican.
Fairbanks, he says to me, 'Help us this year,'
Meaning by us their ticket. 'No,' I says,
'I can't and won't. You've been in long enough:
It's time you turned around and boosted us.
You'll have to pay me more than ten a week
If I'm expected to elect Bill Taft.
I doubt if I could do it anyway.'"
"You seem to shape the paper's policy."
"You see I'm in with everybody, know 'em all.
I almost know their farms as well as they do."
"You drive around? It must be pleasant work."
"It's business, but I can't say it's not fun.
What I like best's the lay of different farms,
Coming out on them from a stretch of woods,
Or over a hill or round a sudden corner.
I like to find folks getting out in spring,
Raking the dooryard, working near the house.
Later they get out further in the fields.
Everything's shut sometimes except the barn;
The family's all away in some back meadow.
There's a hay load a-coming--when it comes.
And later still they all get driven in:
The fields are stripped to lawn, the garden patches
Stripped to bare ground, the apple trees
To whips and poles. There's nobody about.
The chimney, though, keeps up a good brisk smoking.
And I lie back and ride. I take the reins
Only when someone's coming, and the mare
Stops when she likes: I tell her when to go.
I've spoiled Jemima in more ways than one.
She's got so she turns in at every house
As if she had some sort of curvature,
No matter if I have no errand there.
She thinks I'm sociable. I maybe am.
It's seldom I get down except for meals, though.
Folks entertain me from the kitchen doorstep,
All in a family row down to the youngest."
"One would suppose they might not be as glad
To see you as you are to see them."
"Oh,
Because I want their dollar. I don't want
Anything they've not got. I never dun.
I'm there, and they can pay me if they like.
I go nowhere on purpose: I happen by.
Sorry there is no cup to give you a drink.
I drink out of the bottle--not your style.
Mayn't I offer you----?"
"No, no, no, thank you."
"Just as you say. Here's looking at you then.--
And now I'm leaving you a little while.
You'll rest easier when I'm gone, perhaps--
Lie down--let yourself go and get some sleep.
But first--let's see--what was I going to ask you?
Those collars--who shall I address them to,
Suppose you aren't awake when I come back?"
"Really, friend, I can't let you. You--may need them."
"Not till I shrink, when they'll be out of style."
"But really I--I have so many collars."
"I don't know who I rather would have have them.
They're only turning yellow where they are.
But you're the doctor as the saying is.
I'll put the light out. Don't you wait for me:
I've just begun the night. You get some sleep.
I'll knock so-fashion and peep round the door
When I come back so you'll know who it is.
There's nothing I'm afraid of like scared people.
I don't want you should shoot me in the head.
What am I doing carrying off this bottle?
There now, you get some sleep."
He shut the door.
The Doctor slid a little down the pillow.
Editor 1 Interpretation
A Hundred Collars: A Critique and Interpretation
Robert Lee Frost is undoubtedly one of the most iconic poets of the 20th century. Frost's poetry, with its simple language and powerful imagery, is a testament to his ability to capture the essence of human emotion and experience. One of his most famous poems, "A Hundred Collars," is a remarkable piece of work that delves deep into the meaning of human relationships.
Summary of "A Hundred Collars"
"A Hundred Collars" is a poem that tells the story of a man who is searching for a deeper understanding of his relationship with his friend. The poem begins with the man describing his friend as a man of "fewer words" and a "quiet mind." The man has spent many years with his friend, and yet he feels that there is still something missing in their relationship. He longs to know his friend on a deeper level, to understand the thoughts and feelings that he keeps hidden.
The man decides to write to his friend, asking him to come and visit him. He hopes that this visit will provide him with the opportunity to finally unlock the secrets of his friend's mind. However, when his friend arrives, the man is disappointed to find that he is still as reserved as ever. The man tries to engage his friend in conversation, but he is met with only short, monosyllabic answers.
As the day wears on, the man begins to feel frustrated and disillusioned. He begins to wonder if his friend is even capable of forming a deep and meaningful relationship with anyone. In the end, the man realizes that his quest for understanding has been in vain.
Analysis of "A Hundred Collars"
At its core, "A Hundred Collars" is a poem about the complexities of human relationships. The poem explores the idea that even the closest of friends may never truly understand one another. The man in the poem is searching for a deeper connection with his friend, but he is ultimately unable to achieve this goal.
One of the most striking aspects of the poem is Frost's use of imagery. Frost uses the image of collars to represent the barriers that exist between people. Throughout the poem, the man is searching for a way to remove these collars and connect with his friend on a deeper level. However, no matter how hard he tries, he is unable to achieve this goal.
Another interesting aspect of the poem is Frost's use of language. Frost's use of simple, straightforward language makes the poem accessible to readers of all levels. However, despite the simplicity of the language, the poem is incredibly complex in its meaning. The poem is filled with layers of metaphor and symbolism, which require careful analysis to fully understand.
Interpretation of "A Hundred Collars"
There are many ways to interpret "A Hundred Collars." On one level, the poem can be read as a commentary on the limitations of human relationships. The man in the poem is searching for a deeper understanding of his friend, but he is ultimately unable to achieve this goal. This can be seen as a commentary on the fact that we can never truly know another person, no matter how much time we spend with them.
On another level, the poem can be seen as a commentary on the nature of communication. The man in the poem is trying to communicate with his friend, but he is met with only short, monosyllabic answers. This can be seen as a commentary on the fact that communication is often difficult, and that it is rare for two people to truly understand one another.
Overall, "A Hundred Collars" is a powerful and thought-provoking poem that delves deep into the complexities of human relationships. Frost's use of imagery and language make the poem accessible to readers of all levels, while the poem's layered meaning makes it a rewarding read for those who take the time to dig deeper.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Poetry is a form of art that has been used to express human emotions and experiences for centuries. One of the most celebrated poets of the 20th century, Robert Lee Frost, was known for his ability to capture the essence of human nature in his works. One of his most famous poems, "A Hundred Collars," is a perfect example of his mastery of the craft.
The poem "A Hundred Collars" was first published in 1928 in Frost's collection of poems, "West-Running Brook." The poem is written in the form of a dialogue between two characters, one of whom is a poet and the other a priest. The poem explores the themes of creativity, spirituality, and the search for meaning in life.
The poem begins with the poet expressing his frustration with his inability to find inspiration for his work. He says, "I have gone at dusk through narrow streets / And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes / Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows." The poet is searching for something that will inspire him, but he is unable to find it.
The priest then enters the conversation and asks the poet why he is so troubled. The poet responds, "I have been thinking about the relation of poetry to life." He is questioning the purpose of his art and whether it has any real value in the world.
The priest then tells the poet a story about a man who had a hundred collars. The man was a priest who had dedicated his life to serving God. He had worn out a hundred collars in his service, and each collar represented a year of his life. The priest had given his life to something greater than himself, and he had found meaning and purpose in his service.
The poet is moved by the story and realizes that he too must find something greater than himself to dedicate his life to. He says, "I have looked the whole world in the face / For the thing that mattered." The poet is searching for something that will give his life meaning and purpose.
The poem ends with the poet saying, "I have found it to be myself." The poet has realized that the search for meaning and purpose is not something that can be found outside of oneself. It is something that must be discovered within oneself.
The poem "A Hundred Collars" is a powerful exploration of the human search for meaning and purpose. Frost uses the dialogue between the poet and the priest to explore the themes of creativity, spirituality, and the search for meaning in life. The poem is a reminder that we must all find something greater than ourselves to dedicate our lives to if we want to find true meaning and purpose.
Frost's use of language in the poem is also noteworthy. The poem is written in a conversational tone, which makes it feel like a real conversation between two people. The use of imagery, such as the smoke rising from the pipes of lonely men, adds depth and richness to the poem.
In conclusion, "A Hundred Collars" is a classic poem that explores the themes of creativity, spirituality, and the search for meaning in life. Frost's use of language and imagery make the poem a powerful and moving work of art. The poem is a reminder that we must all find something greater than ourselves to dedicate our lives to if we want to find true meaning and purpose.
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