So Not a Sonnet

I recently sampled a number of Shakespeare's sonnets. My favorite was numero 57, that's LVII for those of you who don't know. (My internet was down while I did my reading, so I had to quickly reteach myself roman numerals by counting and finding the pattern. I loathe roman numerals.) I'll just paste it in here, thank you Public Domain.

Being your slave, what should I do but tend

Upon the hours and times of your desire?

 I have no precious time at all to spend

Nor services to do, till you require.

Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour

Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,

Nor think the bitterness of absence sour

When you have bid your servant once adieu;

Nor dare I question with my jealous thought

Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,

But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought

Save, where you are how happy you make those

So true a fool in love that in your will,

Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.  

I enjoyed how he plays with the theme of love, almost mocking how foolish men in love can be by trusting without reservation and "enslaving" themselves to their lover, but it also seems relatively true to how I understand men to love. (I'd qualify "men" with the adjective "good," except that I don't believe the actions of those who call themselves men to be manly at all when they are not good, nor can I understand how they can call their perverse actions "love"). Men love deeply and wholly. I believe that men would do anything for their wives within reason (the "within reason" part of this is why women get so frustrated with men. We often think with emotion. They think with logic. Our reasoning powers differ and so persuading the other takes creativity and makes for an adventure). This poem takes this tendency in men to an extreme by impoverishing the man of any purpose of his own except to live for the other. That's where the humor comes from.



I see two major themes, dividing themselves from each other in the middle of the second quatrain. The first is time and how his time is all for his lover. The second set of six lines deal with place. Time and place. How interesting. The two lines preceding it and the last quatrain also include the theme of jealousy. The turn in the last two lines tells us that the author really thinks himself a fool.

I've read a few other sonnets, but the previous experience with sonnets that sticks most out in my mind is when I wrote a sonnet for a class. It was dreadful. I'll prove it to you. You can read it here. The meter is terrible, the rhymes uninspired, and the topic unromantic. But we're all our own worst critic, right? Well, not really. At the time I wrote this, I thought it was B-R-I-L-L-I-A-N-T (but then I tend to be a tad prideful at times), until my professor, dear Dr. Burton, gently pointed out some gaping flaws. That's alright though. I'll keep my day job.