Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s “The Changing Light” takes a unique approach to the subject of fog. Rather than the gloomy, claustrophobic connotations fog can generally elicit, a soft, ethereal quality is given to the San Francisco fog.
Within the first four lines, Ferlinghetti has established that San Francisco’s light is “none of your East Coast light/none of your/pearly light of Paris.” He is not saying that he appreciates fog, but that San Francisco has a monopoly on the cheerful version of it. It is not necessarily the fog that makes the city light beautiful; it is the city that makes the fog’s light beautiful. It is described as “drifting in at night/through the Golden Gate/to lie on the city at dawn.” This gentle, comforting description contradicts the wet, cold physical qualities of fog.
Ferlinghetti continually writes about the “light of fog,” which is an interesting image. Fog blocks the sun and turns the sky gray, but he sees only the whiteness reflected from it. It is as though the all of the murky or ominous connotations that generally follow the word are absent from San Francisco’s unique version of it. It is a “veil,” but never a shroud.
He also plays with the common trope of San Francisco’s being an island or entity separate from the United States. He describes the fog’s light as “an island light.” San Francisco is not a physical island, and there is no reason that the fog on an island would emit a different type of light than that on a continent. The difference is metaphorical. He also writes that San Francisco “drifts/anchorless upon the ocean,” creating that ethereal and mystical image of the city.
Social and political originality, not geography, are the things that make San Francisco an island, and Ferlinghetti plays with that image, but there is some truth to the literal image he creates with the fog. Though fog can be incredibly depressing, there is something romantic and unique about San Francisco. The sights of the Golden Gate Bridge peaking out of the fog or the tops of the skyscrapers disappearing into it are landmarks in themselves. Locals and tourists don’t see the fog as a hindrance; the “Foggy City” is a term of endearment. Ferlinghetti cleverly plays with both the literal and metaphorical images of San Francisco’s fog and creates an accurately attractive representation of the city.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Sadie,
I think your interpretation of "The Changing Light" is very interesting. You definitely delved into the poem in places that I hadn't really considered when I first read it.
I think you are spot on in your discussion of San Franciscan light vs. Paris or the East Coast and the metaphor of San Francisco as an island. Furthermore, I believe that is the essential theme of the fog which you sort of touched on. The fog itself isn't a form of a light, yet to me what Ferlinghetti is saying is that the fog, which is seen as a sort of shade or "veil", is actually like rays of light the creep into every facet of San Francisco while at the same time create a visual barrier that puts San Francisco in this sort of esoteric island that only 'fog people' or something can appreciate. So as much as I agree that Ferlinghetti probably means San Francisco is a political island, I really think the geography of it is less of a metaphor and more of a partner to the politics.
Really though, your interpretation was really worth reading, and I'm glad I did.
I think one of the most interesting aspects of your analysis was your description as the fog as a veil, but never a shroud.
I agree that the poem clearly presents a unique view of the San Franciscan fog with, as you mentioned, an "ethereal quality."
Also, I think your discussion of the "light of fog," was quite interesting. I remember that part of the poem as being very clever and thought provoking, and your analysis of it made me understand it much more clearly.
Post a Comment