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“Drown” – Junot Diaz

“Drown” has something of a dual narrative. On it’s surface, it describes the end of a friendship over matters of sexual experimentation; underneath it’s surface, it documents the narrators uncertainty and anxiety over his own future, only further exacerbated by his friend Beto’s advances and the confusion it causes him.

In the first two parts of the story, the narrator explains his reluctance to talk to Beto by simply stating that he’s become a “pato”, and therefore is no longer worthy of his association. Unlike simple-minded bigotry (which tends to incite more anger), the narrator simply states it as a matter-of-fact, foreshadowing that he knows this because of first-hand experience. Despite his nonchalant attitude, we immediately go on to see how close he and Beto were: “we were raging then, crazy the way we stole, broke windows, the way we pissed on people’s steps and then challenged them to come out and stop us”. This close friendship is only further brought to prominence by the narrator’s home life, with his quiet, paranoid, and long-suffering mother. The description of their relationship evokes feelings of isolation; along with his absentee father, the implication is that Beto and his mother are the two closest people to the narrator. But in losing Beto to his own discomfort and his mother’s emotional availability to his father’s infidelity, the narrator doesn’t quite have anyone left.

This is only made more miserable when we take into account the narrator’s prospects for the future (or lack-there-of). He is accosted by a military recruiter, who tries to entice him into joining by reminded him of all the things he lacks, and will likely never have (in his words, “a house, a car, a gun and a wife”). And later in the story, towards the end, the narrator mentions a teacher at his highschool very frankly saying that he doesn’t believe most of his students will make anything of themselves; the narrator wholly applies this to himself, believing that he has no prospects in life.

His lack of emotional support, coupled with his bleak future, casts an extremely bleak overcast over the entire story. The narrator is speaking to us, and yet, he could be anyone with a similar set of circumstances. Knowing that the narrators situation is not especially unique is what brings both of these components home.

“When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be” – John Keats

In John Keats When I Have Fears That I May Cease to Be, Keats reflects on the fragility of human life when looked through the grander scope of time and eternity. In the first four lines, he makes note of the literary goals that he wants to accomplish, and his own fears that he may die before he gets to achieve any of them. This is a common fear; one that anyone might come to when acknowledging the possibility that the time needed to achieve their hopes, dreams and ambitions may outpace their lifespan.

The next four lines moves beyond his literary pursuits and into a more personal realm. He broods over the possibility that he may never make any substantial connection to another. He compares the beauty of a romantic bond to that of the night sky: vast and directly above him, but ultimately intangible. And as a concept, it can only be intangible, but in the poem he equates intangibility to something that can never be had, in any way, because it transcends his existence as a human being (“And I think that I may never live to trace/Their shadows with the magic hand of chance”).

The last four lines bring everything into perspective: if his lifespan is only so long, and love something that is forever out of his reach, then in his solitude everything else that could be counted as worthwhile fades away into meaninglessness. When put together, the entire poem has a rather bleak overcast; when combined with it’s accepting tone, it counteracts the way the poem pins corporal, worldly things and attachments to the concept of transcendence. If the human life is only so long, then one must do everything they can to be fulfilled in both their personal and professional spheres, and in doing so, they leave their mark, their legacy. But if these things can’t be achieved, then there truly is nothing left—only a quiet solitude. It raises the concern: can a human life truly have any impact, no matter how brief it is? The poem is, simply, the anxiety and despair of an existential crisis put into stanza and prose.