Sunday, March 17, 2019

Horror of War in Dulce et Decorum Est :: Dulce et Decorum Est Essays

Horror of War in Dulce et decorum Est   Wilfred Owens Dulce et Decorum Est is a magnificent, and terrible, description of a gas attack suffered by a group of soldiers in World War 1. One of this group is inefficient to get on his helmet, and suffers horribly. Through his shifting rhythms, dramatic description, and rich, raw images, Owen seeks to urge us that the horror of war far outweighs the patriotic cliches of those who glamorize war.    In the first of four stanzas, Owen presents the death- want calm before the storm of the gas attack. alliteration and onomatopoeia join with powerful figurative and literal images of war to produce a pitiful sense of despair. Bent beggars, knock-kneed, cough and curse like hags through sludge. All of this compressed into fairish two caudexs The third line places the speaker of the poem with this trudging group. In the simple Men marched asleep sentence, the terzetto spoils imitate the falling rhythm of these exhausted men. The pun blood-shod makes its lamentable effect on us slowly. We guess, too, that blind and lame suggest some(prenominal) levels of debilitation. The stanza ends with the ironic-quiet sounds of the shells dropping softly behind.   In contrast to the first stanza, the second stanza is full phase of the moon of action. The oxymoron,ecstasy of fumbling, seems at first odd, but then perfect, as a way to describe the controlled panic -instantly awakened with heightened sensibility- of men with just seconds to find a gas mask. But... tells all. One man is too deep and is seen only through the green sea of mustard gas, yelling... stumbling...drowning...guttering...choking.   The third stanzas shortened two lines emphasize the nightmare these events continue to be for our speaker.   In the detain stanza, Owen becomes more insistent as he drives atus with the steady rhythmic beat of iambic pentameter. We feel the jolt of the wagon, see the white eyes writhing in this hanging face, and, most horribly, hear the gargling of the blood choked lungs. The astonish sound-filled simile, like a devils sick of sin, testifies, along with all the rest, to the overwhelming integrity of this experience. It is not if we could see the horror of this scene.

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