Look We Have Coming to Dover! Flashcards
1
Q
The Hardship and Hope of Immigration
A
- “Look We Have Coming to Dover!” explores the lives of undocumented immigrants in the United Kingdom. The speaker, one of a group of immigrants from the “East” who make the dangerous journey from the European mainland to Dover, describes the difficulty of their new life in the UK. While the speaker seems to feel hopeful for the future, the poem’s ironic tone suggests that the speaker’s new country is as likely to thwart the speaker’s dreams as to fulfill them. Being an undocumented immigrant, this poem suggests, means both hoping for great things from one’s new country, and facing seemingly endless barriers from that country’s government and people.
2
Q
Stowed in the …
… into the tide,
A
- The poem opens with an epigraph taken from a much earlier poem, Matthew Arnold’s 1851 “Dover Beach.” In that poem, a first-person speaker looks out to sea from the cliffs of Dover in the southeast of England, and worries about the the future—in particular, about his sense that Christian civilization is on the wane.
- Nagra alludes to this poem ironically. “Look We Have Coming to Dover!” is a poem from the perspective of a recent (and undocumented) immigrant, and Nagra’s quotation here plays on populist fears that the arrival of immigrants in England signals some kind of degeneration, a threat to a particular way of life. The speaker in this poem has the reverse perspective, looking towards England, not out to sea. The “various,” “beautiful,” and “new” land in Arnold’s poem is, from the speaker’s perspective, a land of dreams. The arriving immigrants hope that they’ll start a new and better life when they reach shore.
- They feel themselves “invad[ing],” not England, but the “lash alfresco of a diesel-breeze”—that is, the harsh, fume-laden air that surrounds their small boat. “Alfresco” is an Italian word that translates as “in fresh air,” but in English specifically refers to outdoor dining—a luxurious connotation that feels intentionally awkward and out of place. It anticipates the poem’s juxtaposition between the immigrants on their little boat and the tourists on the nearby cruise ships, who enjoy gourmet food while the immigrants struggle to survive the crossing.
3
Q
with brunt …
… the ministered waves.
A
- As the immigrants approach the shore, they encounter a hostile new world. The waves that wash over them are “brunt / gobfuls of surf” caused by the wake of the tourist cruise-ships nearby. Metaphor depicts these waves as being spat (“phlegmed”) at the immigrants, an image which suggests that those “cushy” tourists in their ships look down on the immigrants, and even despise them. The sharp enjambment between “brunt” and “gobfuls” (Iines 3 and 4) makes this moment feel all the more sudden and violent, as though the reader, too, gets a face-full of frothy water.
- This section of the poem juxtaposes the immigrants with “cushy come-and-go / tourists,” who, though sharing the same sea, live very different lives. The immigrants may not even make it to the shore, while the tourists sail in comfort and luxury. This juxtaposition stands in for more general differences between the immigrants and those who, just by virtue of where they were born, can enter and exit the country at will. It’s the difference between poverty and wealth; between living under the radar and official citizenship; in short, between an easy life and a tough one.
- Notice, too, how this stanza’s lines start out short, but grow gradually longer. This pattern repeats throughout the poem, creating a wave-like effect on the page. This could represent the ocean waves themselves, but also gestures towards the metaphorical language surrounding immigration: influxes of immigrants are often described as “waves.”
4
Q
Imagine my love …
… crash clothes, free,
A
- The poem ends on a hopeful vision of the future, but it’s up to the reader whether to take this at face value. In essence, the speaker imagines being a legitimate, official member of English society—and specifically of the middle classes, with a nice car, smart clothes, and money. But the poem is so shrouded in irony that it’s hard to see this as a truly optimistic moment.
- In the speaker’s vision, his “love” and “sundry others” (various other people) will one day be “Blair’d in the cash / of our beeswax’d cars, our crash clothes, free.” In other words, they’ll be comfortably legitimized and comfortably wealthy. The allusion to former Prime Minster Tony Blair here suggests that the speaker will be part of the establishment, as much a citizen as the PM himself.
- These lines crackle and spark with sound patterning, suggesting a life of material abundance (signaled by the sheer number of matching sounds) and thrilling possibility. But the key word here is “free.” All the speaker really wants is the same chances at life afforded by those who already live in England: to work hard, enjoy life, and feel safe. The speaker wants freedom from threat and danger, to live without the looming threat of violence or deportation. Notice how the caesura before “free” gives the word its own little space in the poem, emphasizing its importance.
4
Q
Seagull and shoal …
… a Bedford van.
A
- In the second stanza, the immigrants arrive on the Dover shore. The poem uses dense and disorienting language to create an atmosphere of nightmarish intensity, painting even the sea life along the coast as hostile. Of course, this idea stems from human hostility towards immigrants, which is in plentiful supply.
- “Vexin” and “blarnies” are both unusual words, used in unusual ways. To “vex” usually means to irritate someone, rather than to do something in an irritating way, as the speaker uses the word here. And the word “blarney,” meaning roughly “the gift of the gab,” is distinctly Irish: it comes from a legend surrounding Blarney Castle. While these two words wouldn’t normally be strung together in this way, they’re also evocative: the reader can really hear the aggressive, nonstop chatter of seagulls in the sounds of the words. The poem’s strange use of language might suggest that people who aren’t accustomed to the way that English is “supposed” to work might be able to see and hear the English landscape—and the English language—in striking, inventive ways.
- But the speaker’s creativity and fresh perspective doesn’t mean the country is interested in welcoming them. On top of the aggression from the animal kingdom and the sea, the rain seems to hate the immigrants too. A thunderstorm “unbladders” (urinates) its “yobbish rain” over them—a rain which seems to have it in for the new arrivals. (A “yob,” in British English, is someone who is rude and confrontational—another moment of distinctly British slang.) As with the seagulls and shoal life, this personification foreshadows the way British citizens will harass, insult, and degrade the immigrants.
5
Q
Seasons or years …
… pylon and pylon.
A
- This “reap[ing]” is both literal and metaphorical. The immigrants literally “reap” in the fields, doing under-the-radar agricultural work—the kind of labor undocumented people are more likely to find. But they also figuratively “reap” years, losing their lives to the seemingly endless limbo in which some immigrants find themselves waiting for citizenship.
- The life of the undocumented immigrant, this speaker stresses, is one of constant uncertainty and danger. Immigrants don’t just have to do backbreaking jobs, but try to remain “unclocked by the national eye”—that is, unseen by the sweeping metaphorical “eye” of the Big-Brother-like government. And they’re always in danger of getting a “stab in the back,” being betrayed to the authorities.
- What’s more, they have to suffer through tough living conditions, “teemed for breathing / sweeps of grass through the whistling asthma of parks” (lines 13-14). These impressionistic lines relate to another problem that comes with living in the country unofficially: the lack of access to housing and healthcare. The “whistling asthma of parks” might evoke both the wind blowing through a park where the immigrants are sleeping rough, and their literal wheezing breath as they try to deal with untreated lung problems. Notice how the sibilance in line 14 (“sweeps of grass,” for instance) suggests both of those sounds.
6
Q
Swarms of us, …
… for the clear.
A
- Like stanza 3, stanza 4 discusses the ongoing experiences of immigrants over years spent “inland.” Once again, the speaker ironically describes the immigrants in the (often racist) language used by those who oppose immigration—for instance, describing the immigrants as “swarms,” like swarms of insects. This type of metaphorical language both dehumanizes the immigrants and casts them as dangerous invaders.
- The immigrants, continues the speaker, “graft” (or work hard) in metaphorical darkness. They labor in secrecy, always afraid that they might be discovered by the authorities and forced to leave the country. Even the moon, so often a symbol of romance and and beauty, here transforms into a kind of prison “spotlight,” emphasizing the immigrants’ need for secrecy. The assonance of “shot” in line 17 and “spotlight” feels as sudden and surprising as a searchlight’s glare. It’s almost like a prison break film, except the prisoners are trying to stay, rather than escape.
7
Q
we raise our …
… chalk of Britannia!
A
- In the poem’s closing image, the speaker envisions raising a toast with his “love.” It’s a picture of triumph that imagines that the hardships of immigrant life will, one day, be a thing of the past. The speaker and his love lift up “charged glasses,” most likely suggesting fizzing champagne, toward the East. In other words, they celebrate their decision to emigrate from the “East” in order to start new lives in England. It’s a movie-style happy ending.
- But given that the poem often feels ironic, readers don’t have to take this at face value. Perhaps the reader’s wildly optimistic vision of the future only reinforces the real-life difficulties of the immigrant experience.
- In the speaker’s vision, he and his love toast “over unparasol’d tables.” Symbolically speaking, they have made it, no longer needing to hide in the metaphorical shadows. In full sunlight, they can drink their champagne—a drink strongly associated with luxury and riches—and live freely.
8
Q
Form
A
- “Look We Have Coming to Dover!” is a dramatic monologue, giving voice to an immigrant speaker who chronicles the life of immigrants more generally. That monologue uses five stanzas of five lines each (also known as quintets or cinquains).
- This isn’t a conventional poetic form like the sonnet or the villanelle, but it is pretty tightly organized. Each stanza starts short and grows longer on the page as the lines unfold, so the whole poem takes on a wave-like shape. This recalls the rough seas the immigrants travel to get to Dover, but also gestures towards the way that people sometimes metaphorically refer to “waves” of immigration.
9
Q
Meter
A
“Look We Have Coming to Dover!” is written in free verse, which means that the speaker can shape this poem’s wild and unpredictable lines without worrying about meter. The poem’s loose shape, of course, is no accident: it mirrors the uncertainties the immigrants face both on the journey to England and once they’re ashore, trying to survive in their new country. A regular meter might sound too organized and official, and wouldn’t capture the chaos and danger of these undocumented immigrants’ lives.
