Wild Grapes by Robert Frost (Poem & Summary)

 

Wild Grapes

by Robert Frost

(Poem & Summary) 

- Wild Grapes by Robert Frost (Poem & Summary)

- Wild Grapes by Robert Frost (Analysis)

"Wild Grapes" is a poem from Robert Frost's collection titled "New Hampshire," which was published in 1923. "New Hampshire" was one of Frost's most celebrated collections and earned him the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1924.

In "Wild Grapes," Frost explores themes of nature, wilderness, and the tension between the untamed and the cultivated. The poem delves into the idea of wild grapes as an intrusive force that disrupts the order of a cultivated landscape. Frost contrasts the wildness and vigor of the grapes with the controlled and structured environment of the farm.

The speaker in the poem observes the wild grapes creeping and tangling around the trees, fences, and walls, symbolizing the persistent presence of nature in human-built spaces. Frost reflects on the relationship between wildness and civilization, pondering the significance of these wild grapes and their ability to thrive in unexpected places.

While the poem captures the conflict between the natural world and human intervention, it also suggests a certain admiration for the wild grapes' resilience and tenacity. Frost's depiction of the wild grapes can be seen as a metaphor for the unpredictability and uncontrollable aspects of life that can emerge even within the most ordered and controlled environments.

"Wild Grapes" is a contemplative poem that showcases Frost's skillful use of imagery, symbolism, and his ability to evoke deeper philosophical questions through his observations of the natural world. It remains a notable work within the larger body of Frost's poetry.

 

Wild Grapes

What tree may not the fig be gathered from?

The grape may not be gathered from the birch?

It's all you know the grape, or know the birch.

As a girl gathered from the birch myself

Equally with my weight in grapes, one autumn,

I ought to know what tree the grape is fruit of.

I was born, I suppose, like anyone,

And grew to be a little boyish girl

My brother could not always leave at home.

But that beginning was wiped out in fear

The day I swung suspended with the grapes,

And was come after like Eurydice

And brought down safely from the upper regions;

And the life I live now's an extra life

I can waste as I please on whom I please.

So if you see me celebrate two birthdays,

And give myself out of two different ages,

One of them five years younger than I look-

Summary:

In the first stanza of "Wild Grapes," the speaker questions the origin of certain fruits. They wonder about the tree from which figs cannot be gathered and assert that grapes cannot be obtained from a birch tree. The speaker suggests that they have knowledge about either grapes or birch trees, but not both.

The speaker then reflects on their personal experience as a girl who used to gather grapes from a birch tree. They compare their weight to a significant amount of grapes they collected one autumn. The speaker believes that due to their firsthand experience, they should know which tree produces grapes.

The stanza also touches upon the speaker's early life as a young girl, being somewhat of a tomboy who couldn't always be kept at home by their brother. However, a transformative event occurred when they were hanging with the grapes, akin to the mythical figure Eurydice. Despite being pursued, they were safely brought down from the elevated position.

As a result of this incident, the speaker's life took a different course. They now perceive their current existence as an "extra life," one that they can choose to spend however they desire and with whomever they please. The mention of celebrating two birthdays and presenting themselves as different ages suggests a complex and multifaceted identity.

Overall, the stanza explores themes of personal experience, transformation, and the notion of living multiple lives. The speaker reflects on their past and the impact it has had on their understanding of self and the choices they make in their present existence.

One day my brother led me to a glade

Where a white birch he knew of stood alone,

Wearing a thin head-dress of pointed leaves,

And heavy on her heavy hair behind,

Against her neck, an ornament of grapes.

Grapes, I knew grapes from having seen them last year.

One bunch of them, and there began to be

Bunches all round me growing in white birches,

The way they grew round Leif the Lucky's German;

Mostly as much beyond my lifted hands, though,

As the moon used to seem when I was younger,

And only freely to be had for climbing.

My brother did the climbing; and at first

Threw me down grapes to miss and scatter

And have to hunt for in sweet fern and hardhack;

Which gave him some time to himself to eat,

But not so much, perhaps, as a boy needed.

So then, to make me wholly self-supporting,

He climbed still higher and bent the tree to earth

And put it in my hands to pick my own grapes.

'Here, take a tree-top, I'll get down another.

Hold on with all your might when I let go.'

I said I had the tree. It wasn't true.

The opposite was true. The tree had me.

The minute it was left with me alone

It caught me up as if I were the fish

And it the fishpole. So I was translated

To loud cries from my brother of 'Let go!

Don't you know anything, you girl? Let go!'

But I, with something of the baby grip

Acquired ancestrally in just such trees

When wilder mothers than our wildest now

Hung babies out on branches by the hands

To dry or wash or tan, I don't know which,

(You'll have to ask an evolutionist)-

I held on uncomplainingly for life.

My brother tried to make me laugh to help me.

'What are you doing up there in those grapes?

Don't be afraid. A few of them won't hurt you.

I mean, they won't pick you if you don't them.'

Much danger of my picking anything!

By that time I was pretty well reduced

To a philosophy of hang-and-let-hang.

'Now you know how it feels,' my brother said,

'To be a bunch of fox-grapes, as they call them,

That when it thinks it has escaped the fox

By growing where it shouldn't-on a birch,

Where a fox wouldn't think to look for it-

And if he looked and found it, couldn't reach it-

Just then come you and I to gather it.

Only you have the advantage of the grapes

In one way: you have one more stem to cling by,

And promise more resistance to the picker.'

Summary

In these lines from the poem "Wild Grapes" by Robert Frost, the speaker describes a childhood experience with their brother in a glade. The brother leads the speaker to a white birch tree adorned with pointed leaves, and there is a cluster of grapes hanging heavily from the tree, forming an ornament against the tree's neck.

The speaker recognizes the grapes from seeing them the previous year and notices that bunches of grapes are growing on other white birch trees in the area. The grapes are located beyond the reach of the speaker's hands, much like the moon seemed when they were younger, requiring climbing to obtain them. The brother climbs the tree and throws grapes down for the speaker to catch, scattering them in the ferns and hardhack, providing amusement and making the brother pause to eat.

To encourage the speaker's independence, the brother climbs even higher and bends the tree down to the ground, handing over the responsibility of picking grapes. The brother offers the speaker a treetop to hold onto while he retrieves another for himself. The speaker falsely claims to have a grip on the tree, but in reality, it is the tree that has a hold on them. As soon as the brother releases the tree, the speaker is caught up, akin to a fish being caught by a fishing pole.

The brother urgently shouts for the speaker to let go, criticizing her lack of knowledge. However, the speaker, using a grip acquired from ancestors who hung babies from trees, clings on tightly, enduring the cries without complaint. The brother attempts to lighten the situation with humor, urging the speaker not to be afraid of the grapes, assuring her that they won't pick her if she doesn't pick them.

The speaker, however, is in no danger of picking anything. They have resigned themselves to a philosophy of hanging on and letting things be. The brother compares the speaker's predicament to that of a bunch of fox-grapes, growing in an unexpected place where a fox wouldn't think to look for them. The speaker has the advantage of having one more stem to cling to and thus provides more resistance to the picker.

These lines capture a playful yet contemplative moment in the speaker's past, exploring themes of childhood, independence, and the resilience of nature. The experience serves as a metaphorical reflection on the speaker's ability to hold on despite the challenges they face, symbolized by their interaction with the grapes and the birch tree.

One by one I lost off my hat and shoes,

And still I clung. I let my head fall back,

And shut my eyes against the sun, my ears

Against my brother's nonsense; 'Drop,' he said,

'I'll catch you in my arms. It isn't far.'

(Stated in lengths of him it might not be.)

'Drop or I'll shake the tree and shake you down.'

Grim silence on my part as I sank lower,

My small wrists stretching till they showed the banjo strings.

'Why, if she isn't serious about it!

Hold tight awhile till I think what to do.

I'll bend the tree down and let you down by it.'

I don't know much about the letting down;

But once I felt ground with my stocking feet

And the world came revolving back to me,

I know I looked long at my curled-up fingers,

Before I straightened them and brushed the bark off.

My brother said: 'Don't you weigh anything?

Try to weigh something next time, so you won't

Be run off with by birch trees into space.'

Summary

In this continuation of the poem "Wild Grapes" by Robert Frost, the speaker describes the further events of their encounter with the birch tree and their brother's attempts to help them down. Here's a summary of the lines:

As the speaker continues to cling onto the birch tree, they gradually lose their hat and shoes one by one. They let their head fall back and close their eyes to shield themselves from the sun and block out their brother's teasing. The brother urges the speaker to drop, promising to catch them in his arms and assuring them that it's not a long distance to fall (although it may not be accurate when measured against his own height).

The brother threatens to shake the tree if the speaker doesn't drop, attempting to convince them to let go. The speaker responds with silence, sinking lower and stretching their small wrists until they resemble the strings of a banjo. The brother remarks on the speaker's lack of seriousness about letting go, suggesting that they hold on while he considers an alternative plan. He proposes bending the tree down to allow the speaker to descend.

The speaker admits to not knowing much about being let down, but they recall the feeling of the ground beneath their stocking feet and the world returning to them as they descended. They examine their curled-up fingers before straightening them and brushing off the bark. The brother questions if the speaker weighs anything and advises them to try weighing something in the future, implying that it would prevent them from being carried away by birch trees into empty space.

These lines depict the speaker's continued struggle with the birch tree and their brother's persistent attempts to rescue them. The speaker's grip on the tree and their eventual descent highlight their determination and resilience. The brother's comments and concerns about the speaker's weight add a touch of humor to the situation while underscoring the playful sibling dynamic within the poem.

It wasn't my not weighing anything

So much as my not knowing anything-

My brother had been nearer right before.

I had not taken the first step in knowledge;

I had not learned to let go with the hands,

As still I have not learned to with the heart,

And have no wish to with the heart-nor need,

That I can see. The mind-is not the heart.

I may yet live, as I know others live,

To wish in vain to let go with the mind-

Of cares, at night, to sleep; but nothing tells me

That I need learn to let go with the heart.

Summary

In these lines from the poem "Wild Grapes" by Robert Frost, the speaker reflects on their experience with the birch tree and their brother's advice. The speaker contemplates the significance of their weight and knowledge in relation to their struggle with the birch tree. They admit that it wasn't so much about their physical weight but rather their lack of understanding. They acknowledge that their brother had been more correct in his assessment before. They realize that they had not taken the first step towards knowledge, implying that they had not learned to let go physically or metaphorically.

The speaker reflects on their lack of knowledge in releasing their grip, not only with their hands but also with their heart. They admit that they have yet to learn how to let go emotionally, and they express no desire or necessity to do so. They distinguish between the mind and the heart, suggesting that the mind may be capable of letting go of worries to sleep at night, but they see no indication that they need to learn to let go with their heart.

The speaker implies that they may continue living in a way similar to others, who may wish in vain to let go mentally but still hold on. They express a sense of contentment or acceptance, asserting that nothing compels them to learn to let go emotionally. They seem to reject the notion that they need to release their emotional attachments in the same way they might release physical or mental burdens.

These lines delve into the speaker's introspective thoughts regarding knowledge, emotional detachment, and the distinction between the mind and the heart. The speaker embraces their current state of holding onto emotional attachments and suggests that letting go with the heart may not be necessary or desired for them.