Robert Frost-My November Guest Analysis

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Robert Frost-My November Guest Analysis

By | March 2011
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The Robert Frost Poem “My November Guest” is a very dark and gray poem. The poem takes place in the month of November and the poets sorrow is talking throughout the piece. A man’s sorrow is misunderstood and that is the main focus of this poem

Sorrow is a complex statement; it could mean a lost one, winter’s chill or depression. This poem is about all three. When a person is depressed darkness can be beautiful as put in the poem, “thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be.” (Frost, a Boys Will pg. 3).

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder is a phrase that rings true and this is present throughout the poem. “The desolate, deserted trees, the faded earth, the heavy sky, and the beauties she so truly sees.” (Frost, a Boys Will pg. 3), this statement is Sorrow loving all that is faded and deserted; this means that beauty can mean other things to different people. This is something I firmly believe, I don’t see rainbows and unicorns as beauty, and I think autumn and the smell of burning leaves are beautiful.

By the end of the poem the author sees the beauty of November, because sorrow has been putting the beauty into his mind and keeps vexing the author as to why he doesn’t see the beauty. “Not yesterday I learned to know the love of bare November days,” (Frost, a Boys Will pg. 3). The author says it is “vain to tell her so”, this means that he can’t give in to his sorrow and depression because it will take him into a deep place he doesn’t want to be.

This poem was very interesting, and I felt I learned a little bit about the flow of words. My November Guest is about sorrow and depression, but the author does succumb himself to those two ideas. He lets “sorrow” have her way with the idea of darkness, but he doesn’t have the pride to not let this idea consume his life and being. In reading a lot of Robert Frost I have noticed a lot of depression and darkness is abundant, kind of like a quizzical Edgar Allan Poe. I liked a lot of the...