Susan Quigley: Peer Commentary for Andrew Kerr

English 354/Finley: 7 October 1999

Edmund Blunden's experience of rural memory is forever tainted with his experience of war. In "The Ancre at Hamel: Afterwards," Blunden seems to be comparing the memory of the gentleness of the river to the memory of the cruelty of war. He uses nature as an index point from which to accomplish this, writing his poem in hindsight--not from after the battle, but from after the War.

Andrew Kerr brings our attention to the anguish Blunden shares with nature--in this case, the Ancre River. Blunden shows very little feeling for his own situation, but rather seems to feel through the river. Kerr points this out in Blunden's lines "its stream ran through my heart; / I heard it grieve and pine / As if its rainy tortured blood / had swirled into my own "(19-22). We have no doubt that Blunden has been permanently damaged by his war experience, and Kerr states "the river has also become a scarred casualty of war."

I question, though, Kerr's interpretation of the poem with regard to Blunden's fellow soldiers. Kerr's essay mentions the festivities of the soldiers "chattering together with warm thoughts in celebration," and the "happy voices of the partying soldiers." On reading "The Ancre" I could find little evidence of jubilation in Blunden's lines. Instead, I imagined the poet's fellow soldiers returning from battle dirty, tired, hungry, and glad to be alive. Blunden does say "Where tongues were loud and hearts were light / I heard the Ancre flow (1-2)." Perhaps it is from this that Kerr, perhaps correctly, has inferred the celebratory atmosphere. I see these lines referring to pre-1914.