Welcome to the Goretti Publications Podcast; this is Donald Goodman. This is Season 1, Episode 3: the sonnet. This episode, let's discuss the quintessential form of modern English poetry: the sonnet. The sonnet is a simple form, ultimately: fourteen lines of iambic pentameter, with a variety of rhyme schemes. The greatest English-language poets, since the close of the Middle English period, have written sonnets. The sonnet has been the preferred form of some of our greatest poets; John Dunne's with his “holy sonnets”, as one of the greatest examples. But first and foremost, of course, must come the great Bard, William Shakespeare, with his group of sonnets written in early modern English toward the close of the sixteenth century. The sonnet is, as mentioned, fourteen lines, typically divided into various groups of lines. The form originated in Sicily, as two quatrains (four-line units) followed by a pair of tercets (three-line units), with the rhyme scheme abab for the quatrains, and cdcdcd for the tercets. The form migrated to the Italian peninsula, where it reached its Italian apotheosis with the Petrarchan sonnets, named after their scion, Petrarch. These were formed with the rhyme scheme abbaabba for the two quatrains, remaining cdcdcd for the pair of tercets. The French also adopted the sonnet, though rather than iambic pentameter, the French employed alexandrines, twelve-syllable lines with a caesura, or pause, in the middle. This form was more suitable to the French language, which largely lacks a per-word stress system. The English, of course, massaged the form into a different rhyme scheme, and indeed into a form rather different from its Sicilian and Italian predecessors. The quatrains in the first section of the sonnet were made abab cdcd, with fewer single-sound rhymes; the pair of tercets were commonly turned into an additional quatrain, efef, with a “heroic couplet” (a pair of rhyming lines in iambic pentameter) at the end, leading to a final rhyme scheme of abab cdcd efef gg. Typically, the first two quatrains set up the issue; the matter was turned in the third quatrain, and then resolved in the final couplet. A perfect example is Shakespeare's Sonnet 116, which any educated English speaker will recognize after I read the first line: Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediements; love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand'ring bark Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come. Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom: If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved. This rhyme scheme is, as noted above, abab (minds/love/finds/move) cdcd (mark/shaken/bark/taken) efef (cheeks/come/weeks/doom) gg (proved/loved). Of course, we suffer from speaking four centuries after the Bard, and (for example) “love” and “prove” no longer rhyme, as they did in his day; however, it is not difficult to see the pattern, given the spelling. The poet establishes what love is not in the first quatrain; spends two more quatrains explaining what it is; and then sums the matter up in the final couplet. We have discussed the sonnet in the Italian, French, and English forms, but the general concept is incredibly widespread. Sonnets have been written not only in Romance and Germanic languages, but in Slavic, Celtic, and even Indian languages. There is something clearly and deeply resonant in the form, which we would do well to respect. The sonnet is tightly structured, forcing the poet to form his thoughts and message into a well-known and succinct pattern. This form makes the sonnet easy to remember, easy to recite, and well-recognized by all its hearers. The sonnet, then, is well worth writing, discussing, and even studying, particularly for those who understand the structured nature of poetry. While Shakespearean sonnets (so named because, while the Bard did not invent them, he certainly perfected them) are common in English among formal poets even to this day, Petrarchan sonnets are still sometimes written, and are even preferred by some poets. They are more difficult, as they contain fewer rhymes; but they also, perhaps for that reason, provide a more unified single form. We will examine one such sonnet, The Seed of Sorrow, for part two of the podcast now: Just as we see the growth from tiny seed which falling to the ground, must fight to die; against the tyrant wind, it there must lie, in fear that bird or beast it soon will feed, or that it's overshadow'd by some weed; and so against the world it's doom'd to vie, until, at length, it offers up a sigh, and giving up the ghost, it dies indeed; so we must sorrow, though too often we wish only growth and flourishing to seek; but ere we can be strong, we must be weak; we must be broken ere we heal'd can be. For death alone can make the seed to grow; so sorrow only can make joy to flow. This sonnet combines the virutes of the Petrarchan and the Shakespearean sonnet. Written entirely in iambic pentameter, the rhyme scheme uses the Petrarchan form for three quatrains, but still sums it up with a heroic couplet at the end. This leads to a rhyme scheme of abbaabbacddcee. The abba abba tie together two quatrains very tightly, because they share a final and initial rhyme. We see a similar scheme in the third quatrain, though it has different rhymes; this allows us to sum up with the heroic couplet at the end, like a traditional Shakespearean sonnet. The meaning of the this poem is clear. It hearkens to the parable of the seeds told by Our Lord Jesus Christ: the seed must die before it can grow, and draws a parallel between this and the fact that sinful men must suffer and sorrow before they can be truly joyful. There are some delightful turns of phrase as we proceed through the lines. The seed “must fight to die”; that is, it must actually *pursue* death if it is to fulfil its purpose, just as man must pursue suffering to obtain joy. We see its enemies are wide-ranging; as the soul faces the world, the flesh, and the Devil, the seed faces wind which blows it away from the fertile ground; the bird or beast, which may devour it; other plants, weeds, which may overshadow it and prevent its growth. In other words, it is opposed by “the world”, and finally dies in order to grow. So the sinner, though he only wishes “growth and flourishing”, must sorrow and die, as well. Weakness makes us strong; being broken makes us heal; and dying makes us born to eternal life. Thank you for listening; until next time, this has been the Goretti Publications Podcast.