How is POWER presented in War Photographer and one other poem in your collection?
(I chose Tissue)
Both War Photographer and Tissue look at how paper has the power to record the experience of human beings. In War Photographer Carol Ann Duffy writes about how photographs can transport events across time and space, taking the horrors of war into the relaxing life of England. In Tissues, Imtiaz Dharker talks about how paper is so central to the history of humans that she eventually uses paper as a metaphor for life itself.
In War Photographer, Duffy compares the photographer to another powerful position, that of a “priest preparing to intone a mass.” The simile offers a number of clear connotations: the light shining through the negatives could be compare to light shining through a stained glass window; also, as he is preparing his pictures for printing in newspaper you could argue that the pictures will work like a sermon with the power to educate. Furthermore, if the dark room is his church, and he is the priest, then his pictures could be seen as his religious book. The same connection is made in Tissue, where Dkarker reminds us that paper was used to make up the pages of the Koran. Here, she calls it a “well-used” book; the adjective phrase reminds us how powerful it has been to so many people; she creates the image of a hand that has written “names and histories.” In both these images, we are reminded that paper has a religious power and that it preserves ideas across time.
Since War Photographer focuses specifically on conflict situations, the language is far more active – verbs like “slop, tremble, explode” from verse two – help bring to life, even momentarily, the experiences of the photographer. By contrasting this action with the photographer’s life in “rural England” – which creates an image of a still countryside scene – we are reminded that photographs can offer us a window into a world far removed from our own. Dharker’s Tissues, however, seems calmer. Verbs like “smoothed, stroked and turned” from verse 3, or the image of a building falling “away on a sigh” from verse 4 all serve to lull to the reader into a calm space where we can reflect on the ideas the poem is presenting. In this respect Dharker and Duffy seem to have opposing aims with their poems: one reminds us to wake up or we’ll miss what is happening; the other encourages us to relax or we’ll miss what is real.
Structurally, neither poems look to establish a strong rhythm, preferring a more serious almost prose-like tone. In fact, although War Photographer sticks to a common ABBCDD rhyme scheme throughout it, some of the strongest rhymes appear outside of this: the “again / pain” rhyme in verse 2 for example, or the “tears / beers” rhyme in the final verse. In doing this, Duffy seems to be showing some kind of conflict within an order; as though she is establishing a rhyme scheme but deliberately breaking it, in order to show how fragile our order is. In Tissue, however, Dharker avoids a structured rhyme scheme, perhaps as a way of reflecting the chaotic nature of the life she is exploring, or reflecting the tissue paper she writes about blowing in the wind, like humans passing through time.
Most importantly, though, both poets write about the conflict that comes from how paper tries to preserve moments. In War Photographer, Duffy writes about how the deaths of the subjects will – or won’t – affect the readers as their “eyeballs prick / with tears between the bath and pre-lunch beers.” Here the rhyme is so strong it almost mocks the readers’ sadness. As readers we smile and feel warmth and reassurance from this child like rhyme, before we are reminded that the photographer must return to his war to collect and preserve another “hundred agonies in black and white.” In Tissue, however, humans actually become the paper – it is “turned into your skin.” Dharker reminds us that we are “never meant to last” anyway. She reminds us that the best of us are “smoothed and stroked” and “thinned by touching” until we are “transparent” – like a photographic negative.
And this brings out the most telling comparison. In Tissue, Dharker says that “Paper that lets light / shine through, this / is what could alter things.” However, in War Photographer, Duffy argues that the photographer, who uses the most transparent paper of all – a photographic negative – doesn’t really have the power to change anything, since the majority of us – perhaps aware of how short our lives really are – will always return to the beers and baths we enjoy.