From the Journal of a Disappointed Man Flashcards
Disappointment, Uncertainty, and Failure
- The speaker of Andrew Motion’s “From the Journal of a Disappointed Man” witnesses a construction job gone wrong. Stopping to watch a work crew drive a “pile” (supporting column) into a “pier,” the speaker realizes that the workmen have encountered a mysterious problem they cannot solve. They finally walk away, and the poem remains as unresolved as the workmen’s “difficulty”; it provides no satisfying answers or explanations. In this way, the poem illustrates what deep disappointment looks and feels like. Life can be just like that, the poem seems to say: it can leave people completely at a loss, frustrated as if suspended “in mid-air.”
- The events of the poem are a study in frustration and failure. The speaker describes a scene in which construction workers can’t fix some issue that’s never made clear. Their uncertainty turns into “tension,” which mounts until they finally give up. Their experience is frustrating in a different way for the speaker and reader who aren’t responsible for the problem but also have no understanding or control over it.
Labor and Social Class
- The speaker of “From the Journal of a Disappointed Man” appears to be a writer or intellectual (or at least imagines himself in such a role). At first, he feels distant from and perhaps superior to the construction crew he observes. His language reflects an apparent class divide, as he describes them and their work mainly in terms of raw physicality. Yet, through his observations, it becomes clear that “physical” or “manual” labor has plenty in common with intellectual pursuits. Both are kinds of work that involve thoughtful problem-solving; both can force practitioners to confront their own limits. And both can be lessons in the graceful management of “Disappoint[ment].”
- The speaker may just be a jobless wanderer, but he appears to view himself as a writer or thinker—and to assume that this distinguishes him from the construction crew. He keeps an extensive “Journal,” the title declares, of which the poem is merely an excerpt. He has “at least an hour” to spend observing workmen doing their jobs and writing about them in that journal. His language is at times almost comically high-toned and poetic, as when he describes a gob of spit as a “brown bolus […] on its slow descent.”
Masculinity and Social Expectations
- The speaker of Motion’s poem is framed specifically as a “Disappointed Man.” Though he never says as much, his disappointment—and, in part, the workers’—seems related to a failure to meet stereotypical expectations of masculinity. For example, men are conventionally expected to be strong, adept at problem-solving, and successful in their work lives. Over the course of the poem, the speaker falls short on all three fronts and the workers on the last two. Yet while the workers eventually accept defeat with grace, the speaker seems unable to do so. Refusal to admit his limitations as a “Man” immobilizes him, leaving him hanging in a state of permanent frustration.
- Both the speaker and the workers show signs of being insecure in their masculinity. For example, the speaker compares his physical strength unfavorably with the workers’ and hangs around their construction site (a stereotypical bastion of manliness) as if hoping to be accepted in their ranks.
I discovered these …
… long wire hawser.
- Lines 1-5 establish the poem’s setting, start to describe its action, and introduce the voice of the speaker.
- From the start, the title frames the unnamed first-person speaker as “a Disappointed Man.” The poem is supposed to comprise an entry in his “Journal” and possibly illustrate his general sense of disappointment. Rather than discussing his mood, however, the speaker tells an anecdote.
- He reports that, while out and about for some unstated reason, he “discovered” a crew of workmen “driving a new pile / into the pier.” That is, they were installing a new vertical support column on a dock, which seems to be a familiar local landmark for the speaker (“the pier”). Right away, the verb “discovered” is interesting: “saw” or “noticed” would be more expected in this context, but to the speaker, this ordinary scene constituted a discovery. The rest of the poem will show that he found it strangely absorbing and memorable.
Everything else was …
… tight”: all monosyllables.
-The speaker repeatedly highlights the workmen’s gender: “men […] men […] men.” Recall that this is the “Journal of a Disappointed Man.” Perhaps the title implies that the speaker is, on some level, disappointed in his manhood or sense of masculinity. Regardless, he seems drawn to these other men, who are working a stereotypically manly job—construction—and who strike him as “very powerful” (rather than disappointed, unsuccessful, etc.).
- At this point, the juxtaposition of speaker and workers starts to suggest similarities as well as differences. The differences are clear: they’re hard at work, he’s not; they’re a group, he’s alone; they’re working-class, he seems to be a writer or idler. At the same time, despite his traces of snobbery, the speaker recognizes that the crew is not all muscle and no brains; they’re as “ruminative” as he is. They’re also nearly as “silent” as he is. In fact, all the men on this scene appear to reject, or struggle with, open communication.
Nevertheless, by paying …
… a great difficulty.
- Lines 12-16 introduce the main conflict, or “difficulty,” in the poem. The speaker and workers aren’t communicating with each other, and the workers are barely communicating among themselves, so it takes the speaker a minute to figure out what’s going on. “Nevertheless,” he tells his journal, “by paying close attention / to the obscure movements” of one worker on a dockside ladder, he realizes that the crew “were up against a great difficulty.”
- The speaker never explains the nature of this difficulty, because he doesn’t understand it himself. All the specifics of this construction job are “obscure” to him. He understands only that the problem is unusual and not the result of incompetence. The men are struggling to finish their task (drive the “pile” into the sand beneath the water, reinforcing the “pier”) despite “all their strength and experience.” There may be another parallel here between the speaker and the workers, as the speaker’s lack of knowledge arguably causes him to struggle with his task: writing up the incident in his journal. Though he’s “paying close attention” and trying to be precise, as a good writer should, he’s forced to leave certain details “obscure.”
I cannot say …
… the whole business.
- Lines 17-20 expand on the mysterious “difficulty” the workers face. The speaker confirms that he “cannot say what” the difficulty is because the workers never tell him. Nor do they discuss it with each other: “Every one of the monsters,” according to the speaker, “was silent on the subject.” The speaker’s tone here is tinged with nervous condescension: on one level, “monsters” is a jocular way of saying these men are huge, but on another level, it suggests that their physical strength unsettles and alienates him.
- At first, the speaker assumes (again, perhaps condescendingly) that the workers are “silent” because they are “baffled” by their problem. As he watches, however, he “realize[s]” that they are instead “indifferent” toward the problem—in fact, “tired, so tired of the whole business.” The “whole business” might refer to this particular project or to construction work in general. Or it might point to a deeper malaise: maybe they’d rather not work at all and wish they could do something entirely different with their lives. In any case, the repetition of “tired” suggests that their fatigue is more than physical; they’re emotionally checked out, too.
- Given the workmen’s “experience” (line 15), it’s likely that all of them understand the nature of the “difficulty,” and they may have some sense of a potential solution (even if it’s easier said than done). They just don’t care enough to do what it takes. They’re exhausted and unhappy, with a kind of ennui that mirrors the speaker’s own “Disappoint[ment].” Once again, the juxtaposition of the speaker and workers reveals both differences (e.g., in body type) and important similarities.
The man nearest …
… crack of Doom.
- In lines 21-24, a moment of communication almost happens between the speaker and the workers.
- One worker, at least—the “man [standing] nearest to” the speaker—seems determined to project a certain attitude, even if he does so without “saying [any]thing.” By “crossing his strong arms over his chest,” according to the speaker, he “showed me that for all he cared the pile / could go on swinging until the crack of Doom.” In other words, he went out of his way to look as if he didn’t care whether his crew finished the job. “The crack of Doom” is an old-fashioned idiom for “doomsday,” so this worker is basically willing to let the wooden “pile” keep “swinging” from its cable, uninstalled and useless, until the end of time.
- At least, that’s how the speaker interprets his attitude. There’s “still” no verbal communication here, so the speaker is relying on body language rather than spoken language. He reads the worker’s folded arms as a kind of “show[]” put on for him, but maybe that’s wishful thinking! After all, he’s been keenly aware, this whole time, that the crew is “ ignoring [him].” He may desire some kind of acknowledgment from, or banter with, this group of “strong” and powerful men.
I should say …
… and finally ceased.
- In lines 25-28, the speaker subtly revises or clarifies his interpretation of events. In an effort “to do the men justice,” he insists that he isn’t accusing the pile-driving crew of total, malicious indifference. In other words, they’re not just pretending to work while actually goofing off. The speaker attests that he “watched them at least an hour” and that, during that time, “their slow efforts / to overcome the secret problem did continue.” They tried for quite some time to install the pile, but they gave up in the end: their efforts “gradually slackened and finally ceased.”
- The poem never reveals what “the secret problem” is, on a practical or psychological level, but its narrative raises rich possibilities. Maybe the underlying problem here is a lack of communication. Maybe it’s performative male stoicism or a proud refusal to ask for, or offer, help. Maybe it’s the workers’ disgust with an exhausting and unrewarding job. Maybe it’s all of the above!
One massive man …
… what they saw;
- Lines 29-32 show the workmen beginning to admit defeat—though not verbally, of course. The speaker describes their resignation with a simile that suggests a kind of spiritual crisis:.
- The speaker again draws attention to their “massive” physicality, as if these were fallen giants. There’s an implied irony in the fact that so many giant men have been defeated by an invisible “difficulty”—something their strength cannot solve. Rather than declare out loud that they are giving up, they simply move away, one by one, from their “position[s]” on the job and lean against the “iron rail” of the pier.” (The “iron rail” here might symbolize the hard limits they have run up against, while their forward-“lean[ing]” stance suggests the hanging of one’s head in defeat.) They stare into the waves below like “mystic[s]”—meditative spiritual seekers—as if contemplating their failure or searching for comfort or answers in the “water.”
though one fellow …
… relieve the tension.
- In an unexpected phrase, the speaker calls the foreman “the most original thinker” of the crew. It’s not clear how he’s earned this distinction. Maybe he’s come up with the best suggestions for his struggling crew. Maybe his smoke break is itself a subtle, thoughtful gesture: a comfort for the “tens[e]” group and a non-verbal signal that they’re done for the day. Either way, the speaker again recognizes that the crew’s labor—which at first seems primarily or totally physical—requires problem-solving and “original” thought. These workmen are “thinker[s],” not just doers, and their defeat may feel all too familiar to him as a “Disappointed” writer type.
Afterwards, and with …
… me of course.
- Lines 39-44 bring the poem’s “incident” to an ambiguous, anticlimactic close. At this point, an air of failure hangs over the whole work site, as if mirroring or illustrating the speaker’s “Disappoint[ment].” Indeed, the speaker may have thought this incident worth recording precisely because he’s a “Disappointed Man,” and the workmen’s failure reflects his own mood or sense of the world. He may even feel, or want to feel, a certain companionship with the defeated workers, even though they never acknowledge him.
- There is a final important difference between the workers and the speaker: they leave the work site and he doesn’t (at least within the frame of the poem). The foreman leads the way after his smoke break: “with a heavy kind of majesty,” the speaker reports, “he turned on his heels and walked away.” In a poem full of uncertainty and unresolved tension, this action has a sudden, decisive finality, as the speaker recounts with a witty enjambment
- As he writes up the incident, he can’t bring the narrative to a satisfying conclusion—only a symbolically fitting and seemingly inevitable one. (Notice that the last words of the poem are “of course.”) Unlike the workers, the speaker can’t seem to accept disappointment as a fact of life, but the poem all but forces the reader to do so.
The Pile
- A “pile” is a support column for a bridge, pier, or similar structure. The pile in this poem is “wooden” and designed to help prop up a “pier.” Normally, then, a pile would be symbolically associated with strength and support. Here, however, that symbolism is deeply ironic.
- The pile never does get installed, and instead remains “swinging” in “mid-air” from the end of a cable. It thus becomes a symbol of useless strength and failed support, or even failure in general. It mirrors the way “all [the] strength” of the construction crew has gone to waste. It also reflects the speaker’s general “Disappoint[ment]”: his sense of being unmoored, uncertain, and frustrated, as though life has left him hanging.
The Pier
A “pier” is a raised dock that juts out into a body of water. It’s a place from which boats/ships can launch and at which they can tie up when they arrive. It’s often a place where ships’ crews can load and unload cargo as well. Symbolically, it’s associated with departure and arrival—but here, that symbolism is ironic, because the pier is the site of a project that barely launches and never arrives at a conclusion. Instead, the construction job remains partially complete, literally suspended midway through. (The failure of the project might literally prevent boats from departing or arriving, too.) Even the speaker’s anecdote, or the poem itself, feels like a voyage that never reaches its intended destination.
Form
- “From the Journal of a Disappointed Man” consists of eleven quatrains (four-line stanzas). It has no meter or rhyme scheme; it’s a free verse poem.
- The poem’s rhythms are loose and prose-like, in keeping with the premise that this is an excerpt from a journal. The line breaks and quatrains may represent the speaker’s effort to shape and unify his thoughts, but if so, it’s only a partial effort. He seems to lead an aimless, drifting life, so free verse makes a natural fit for his personality and habits. He’s an unfulfilled and “Disappointed Man,” and his anecdote thwarts conventional reader expectations, so fulfilling any kind of strict form would seem out of character for him and for the poem.