Post by dustandwater on Apr 7, 2012 3:36:59 GMT -6
It's been a while, poets but I'm back with a real challenge. Enter: The Ballade.
First of all, I suppose it is important to point out that this is not the same as a ‘ballad’. The ballade, as with several other forms we have seen here, originated in France. It was a popular form in the 13th to 15th centuries. As one of the Formes Fixes (alongside the Rondeau and Virelai) Ballades were often set to music.
One of the most famous early Ballade writers is Francois Villon, who is largely responsible for the popularity of the form and possibly inspired much of the theme that is generally the subject of the Ballade: his works were often intense, dealing with the darker side and the grit of life.
The Ballade came to the English language relatively quickly when Chaucer used them in the 14th century but did not enjoy a particularly sustained existence then nor after being revisited in the early 19th century by Dante Gabriel Rosetti and Algernon Charles Swinburne among others.
The Ballade’s lack of popularity or longevity in English is probably due to its composition. The form uses a very strict and quite challenging rhyme scheme, the traditional form having just four rhymes over 28 lines.
A Ballade comprises three stanzas of eight lines and an final quatrain, known as an envoi, each ending with the same refrain. Each line should contain eight syllables, though the metre is free.
The initial three stanzas all use the same rhyme-scheme:
a
b
a
b
b
c
b
C
with the shorter envoi as follows:
b
c
b
C
where like letters rhyme and the capital indicates a refrain.
The theme has undergone several shifts through the Ballade’s history but often deals with the less desirable truths of life, perhaps political or social unsavories and oft-avoided issues and the pulling-back of veneers. Also, the envoi is traditionally written as an aside adressed to a prince, allowing for a change in perspective toward the end of the poem and nicely concluding the piece.
To help clarify, here is an example. I would have liked to use one of Villon’s but in translation, the rhyme-scheme often suffers so this is from the prolific English Ballade writer, G. K. Chesterton.
A Ballade of Theatricals (1912)
Though all the critics' canons grow—
Far seedier than the actors' own—
Although the cottage-door's too low—
Although the fairy's twenty stone—
Although, just like the telephone,
She comes by wire and not by wings,
Though all the mechanism's known—
Believe me, there are real things.
Yes, real people— even so—
Even in a theatre, truth is known,
Though the agnostic will not know,
And though the gnostic will not own,
There is a thing called skin and bone,
And many a man that struts and sings
Has been as stony-broke as stone…
Believe me, there are real things.
There is an hour when all men go;
An hour when man is all alone.
When idle minstrels in a row
Went down with all the bugles blown—
When brass and hymn and drum went down,
Down in death's throat with thunderings—
Ah, though the unreal things have grown,
Believe me, there are real things.
Prince, though your hair is not your own
And half your face held on by strings,
And if you sat, you'd smash your throne—
Believe me, there are real things.
Probably the greatest challenge when writing a Ballade is the heavy repetition of rhymes, particularly the ‘b’ rhyme (you’ll need 14 rhyming words), which is apparently - I don’t speak French - much easier in French. Therefore, I recommend choosing this rhyme carefully and preparing a list of possible words that fit the rhyme and your theme before you start.
Another exercise you might want to do in preparation is write the theme of your poem first, either as a list, a prose piece or, as I did, maybe through dissociative writing.
So, here is my attempt:
The Sun, a Ballade
a No campaign could ever convince
b no brave prophet, however bold
a could share what his dreams did evince
b Never believed though we were told
b that man would ever lose his hold,
c that control could ever be won.
b Never believed we’d feel this cold:
C The great erasure of the sun.
a We tore up all offending prints
b burned the heretic books of old
a cast their writers out as cretins
b swore as one, we would never fold
b that we would never be cajoled
c we believed it could not be done,
b a story we wouldn’t be sold:
C The great erasure of the sun.
a But O, for all those ignored hints,
b the day it came, the sky burned gold,
a the sun burst with one final glint
b flaming rains fell, the sky it rolled
b lightning struck, booming thunder growled
c the omen of the fallen one
b coming down to collect our souls,
C The great erasure of the sun.
b When will you come to us, O Prince,
c keeper of night, when will you come?
b We wait for you here, have been since
C The great erasure of the sun.
You can see that I have resigned myself to a couple of near-rhymes here, which isn’t a major crime so bear that in mind when you try your own.
Have a go and post your Ballades below.
First of all, I suppose it is important to point out that this is not the same as a ‘ballad’. The ballade, as with several other forms we have seen here, originated in France. It was a popular form in the 13th to 15th centuries. As one of the Formes Fixes (alongside the Rondeau and Virelai) Ballades were often set to music.
One of the most famous early Ballade writers is Francois Villon, who is largely responsible for the popularity of the form and possibly inspired much of the theme that is generally the subject of the Ballade: his works were often intense, dealing with the darker side and the grit of life.
The Ballade came to the English language relatively quickly when Chaucer used them in the 14th century but did not enjoy a particularly sustained existence then nor after being revisited in the early 19th century by Dante Gabriel Rosetti and Algernon Charles Swinburne among others.
The Ballade’s lack of popularity or longevity in English is probably due to its composition. The form uses a very strict and quite challenging rhyme scheme, the traditional form having just four rhymes over 28 lines.
A Ballade comprises three stanzas of eight lines and an final quatrain, known as an envoi, each ending with the same refrain. Each line should contain eight syllables, though the metre is free.
The initial three stanzas all use the same rhyme-scheme:
a
b
a
b
b
c
b
C
with the shorter envoi as follows:
b
c
b
C
where like letters rhyme and the capital indicates a refrain.
The theme has undergone several shifts through the Ballade’s history but often deals with the less desirable truths of life, perhaps political or social unsavories and oft-avoided issues and the pulling-back of veneers. Also, the envoi is traditionally written as an aside adressed to a prince, allowing for a change in perspective toward the end of the poem and nicely concluding the piece.
To help clarify, here is an example. I would have liked to use one of Villon’s but in translation, the rhyme-scheme often suffers so this is from the prolific English Ballade writer, G. K. Chesterton.
A Ballade of Theatricals (1912)
Though all the critics' canons grow—
Far seedier than the actors' own—
Although the cottage-door's too low—
Although the fairy's twenty stone—
Although, just like the telephone,
She comes by wire and not by wings,
Though all the mechanism's known—
Believe me, there are real things.
Yes, real people— even so—
Even in a theatre, truth is known,
Though the agnostic will not know,
And though the gnostic will not own,
There is a thing called skin and bone,
And many a man that struts and sings
Has been as stony-broke as stone…
Believe me, there are real things.
There is an hour when all men go;
An hour when man is all alone.
When idle minstrels in a row
Went down with all the bugles blown—
When brass and hymn and drum went down,
Down in death's throat with thunderings—
Ah, though the unreal things have grown,
Believe me, there are real things.
Prince, though your hair is not your own
And half your face held on by strings,
And if you sat, you'd smash your throne—
Believe me, there are real things.
Probably the greatest challenge when writing a Ballade is the heavy repetition of rhymes, particularly the ‘b’ rhyme (you’ll need 14 rhyming words), which is apparently - I don’t speak French - much easier in French. Therefore, I recommend choosing this rhyme carefully and preparing a list of possible words that fit the rhyme and your theme before you start.
Another exercise you might want to do in preparation is write the theme of your poem first, either as a list, a prose piece or, as I did, maybe through dissociative writing.
So, here is my attempt:
The Sun, a Ballade
a No campaign could ever convince
b no brave prophet, however bold
a could share what his dreams did evince
b Never believed though we were told
b that man would ever lose his hold,
c that control could ever be won.
b Never believed we’d feel this cold:
C The great erasure of the sun.
a We tore up all offending prints
b burned the heretic books of old
a cast their writers out as cretins
b swore as one, we would never fold
b that we would never be cajoled
c we believed it could not be done,
b a story we wouldn’t be sold:
C The great erasure of the sun.
a But O, for all those ignored hints,
b the day it came, the sky burned gold,
a the sun burst with one final glint
b flaming rains fell, the sky it rolled
b lightning struck, booming thunder growled
c the omen of the fallen one
b coming down to collect our souls,
C The great erasure of the sun.
b When will you come to us, O Prince,
c keeper of night, when will you come?
b We wait for you here, have been since
C The great erasure of the sun.
You can see that I have resigned myself to a couple of near-rhymes here, which isn’t a major crime so bear that in mind when you try your own.
Have a go and post your Ballades below.
I go for walks sometimes (or rolls.. in my chair) with Firemonkey, to a nearby park. There is a Linden tree there, and when it blooms, the air is filled with the most hypnotic and yet cooling fragrance this side of heaven. On a whim, I ordered some Linden perfume from France, and it arrived about a week before your Forms challenge.