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2 I’m Explaining a Few Things, a la Shmoop.
Boy, what a downer.
Here we were, expecting to hear more about lilacs, rain and birds…
…and then this poem switches gears on us and becomes all about bombing, bandits and
dying children.
Let’s take a quick look at the end of Pablo Neruda’s famous poem:
And you'll ask: why doesn't his poetry speak of dreams and leaves
and the great volcanoes of his native land?
Come and see the blood in the streets. Come and see
The blood in the streets. Come and see the blood
In the streets! What is this moody poet trying to do here?
Why does he want us to come and see all the blood so badly?
Can’t he just save us the trip and tell us about it?
Is he trying to shame us?
Clearly, Neruda is disgusted by the way his countrymen have been treated…
…and appalled by what they have had to endure.
Is this one of those “humankind is inherently evil” poems…
…where he’s venting about how violent we have become, and trying to guilt us into
taking a good, long look at ourselves?
Not that we don’t love to look at ourselves… Or is it a call to action?
His country was still in turmoil when this poem was written…
…was he reaching out to his readers, to inform them of the conditions and inspire
individuals to come to Spain’s aid?
Maybe that’s why he wants the reader to “come and see the blood in the streets”…
Then again, while this poem seems to be mainly about tragic events…
…is it possible that it’s more about… poetry itself?
Neruda was a poet, so… obviously, poetry was important to him.
He insinuates that he is unable to write verse about some of the things his literary predecessors
have…
…because there is too much devastation around him to discuss trivial matters of nature.
Why was he compelled to write about such depressing material?
Maybe writing a limerick or two might have cheered him up?
Was it a guilt trip?
A cry for help?
Or an expression of frustration because his art was being tainted?
Shmoop amongst yourselves.