Elizabeth E. Jackson
29 September 1997
Finley/ English 354/ Literature of the Great War
The war is over, and Edmund Blunden sits in 1921, looking back on 1916 with a mixture of nostalgia and despair. The first lines of '1916 seen from 1921' are some of the most significant and complex of the entire poem:
Tired with dull grief, grown old before my day,
I sit in solitude and only hear
Long silent laughters, murmurings of dismay,
The low intensities of hope and fear.
He begins by describing his current physical state of complete exhaustion and advanced age, which, understandably, are the result of years of hard labor, rough conditions, unspeakable horrors, and seemingly infinite death. The word 'solitude' is unexpected for one always imagines war heroes coming home to houses filled with adoring women and attentive families. The war has been over for three years, and the excitement of victory and homecoming has long since waned, therefore Edmund Blunden sits in solitude &emdash; more than simply momentary isolation, but rather a prolonged state of being alone. 'Solitude' does not have specifically negative connotations, for it implies peace and quiet, two luxuries the war-weary soldier has not enjoyed for many years. However, 'solitude' does indicate Blunden's unique status as one of the very few who made it home.
The tone of despair which pervades these first two lines transforms into nostalgia at line three as Blunden recalls the sounds of the war. What is striking about his recollections is their relative tranquillity &emdash; he does not speak of blaring guns and screaming, wounded men, but of the still moments in between the fighting. How can laughter be silent? It seems that laughter, when it comes and if it comes should be loud and boisterous, a vital release for soldiers who stand on the brink of death. But laughter in such horrible circumstances would have to be restrained lest it become crass with its inappropriateness. 'Dismay' is such a strong emotion that the idea of it being expressed in 'murmurings' seems peculiar. The British 'stiff upper lip,' coupled with the conceit of youth, must have prevented soldiers from expressing vociferous despair, so their expression of despondency had to be quiet. In these lines, Blunden is also describing his recollection of the universality of dismay; the voices of individual men as they curse and pray and lament blended into one large conglomeration of 'murmurings,' where no voice is distinct but the sentiment is the same. The next line seems yet another paradox as Blunden comments on the subdued expression of the extremely powerful emotions of 'hope and fear. How is it possible for the 'intensities of hope and fear' to be expressed in a manner that is 'low?' Alternatively, is he saying that the these emotions have low intensities? Either way, the phrase is unexpected, yet it and its predecessors convey a common impression. In these three lines, Blunden describes the powerful emotions of war, that are muted and repressed by war itself &emdash; by the posturing of soldiers in order to maintain a brave facade that belies the terror in their hearts.
The most intriguing word of the opening to '1916 seen from 1921' is 'only' in line two. Blunden writes, 'I sit in solitude and only hear . . .' He does not 'hear only,' but he 'only hears.' The distinction is crucial. Three years after the war has ended, this soldier cannot do anything but 'sit in solitude' and recall the sounds that were the background music to his world for the duration of the war. He does not feel, he does not see, he 'only hears.' From his descriptions of the sounds that he still hears, these auditory memories are not filled with acute pain, but are instead dull recollections. For several years, Blunden's world was the war. He must remember, and he must begin the long process of recuperation and rejuvenation. At this point, in 1921, the auditory memories are the only ones he can handle.