Robert Hayden's "Those Winter Sundays" is a nearly perfect poem, and it is an innovative or American sonnet, rather than Petrarchan or Shakespearean sonnet.
Man Remembering Childhood
The speaker in Robert Hayden’s sonnet is a man looking back at his childhood; he dramatizes an event that made him realize that he had not treated as father with as much love and respect as the father deserved. But instead of allowing himself to wallow in guilt and self-recrimination, he offers a rhetorical question that puts his attitude in proper perspective: he just did know any better. If he had known better, he could have done better. And that is a useful attitude that we all need.
First Stanza – “Sundays too”
The first line, “Sundays too my father got up early,” implies that the father did not sleep in because it was Sunday, but rather he continued his duty to his family. The father had to get dressed in the cold—“blueblack cold” is such a marvelous description for bitter, biting cold of an unheated house on winter mornings—because no one else would get up before the house was warm.
The father had worked all week in the cold weather, possibly outside, until his hands were “cracked,” and even though his hands ached, he made the fire to warm the house for his family. Another wonderful image that adds its magic to this nearly perfect sonnet is [he] “made / banked fires blaze.” The phrase “banked fires” refers to the piles of wood that were heaped to keep a low glow during the night to make starting the fire again easier in the morning.
This kind of fresh language is what makes poetry so alluring; instead of merely reporting that the father got up early as usual and started the fire in the stove so his family would be warm, the poet has fashioned a little drama filled with intriguing images that make us see and hear the events.
The simple, literal line following these skillfully crafted images, delivers a blast: “No one ever thanked him.” The speaker has shown us a caring man who did so much for others, yet no one appreciated it.
Second Stanza – “the cold splintering, breaking”
The speaker would lie in his warm bed listening while his father was rekindling the fire in the stove or fireplace to warm the house. He would hear “the cold splintering, breaking”—another image that contributes to fabulous dramatic quality of this poem. Literally, the father was splintering the wood, but figuratively while almost literally to the child listening, it would sound as if the cold itself were breaking up. Then when the house was warm enough, the father would call his son to get up, and the son would reluctantly comply. He would “rise and dress.”
The line, “fearing the chronic angers of that house,” is the line that requires some interpretive power. Some readers have been led astray by this line, thinking that the poem is about child abuse by a father. If the angers are literal and belong to people, they not only refer to the father but to “that house,” meaning anyone else living the residence.
Instead of assigning anger to people, however, one might argue that the angers belong to the house; perhaps the house has leaky, noisy pipes, broken windows, dilapidated furniture, rodent infestation, an abusive landlord, or any number of dangerous things that might cause the occupants discomfort.
It is this vague line that detracts from the perfection of this sonnet. This vagueness motivates critics to peer into the poet’s life for possibilities for meaning. While looking at the biography of poets can certainly enrich the poet’s work for readers, it is a flaw if the reader feels the biography a necessity in understanding any part of the work.
Third Stanza – “What did I Know?”
One could read this question as an excuse: “I was just a kid, what did I know?” But the fact is he did not know, because he was a kid. We are all in that same situation. None of us understands the sacrifices our parents make for us while they are making them. And the strength of this repeated question is that it provides the accurate reason for our failure to recognize the love, service, and attention that parents offer to protect their children.
That love should have “austere and lonely offices” escapes the awareness of children, because they do not have the insight and experience that adults who have served those offices have. The term “offices” might cause some confusion if one thinks only of business offices or rooms.
Here the term refers to positions of authority and duty, especially those held in a sacred trust. The old adage that “it is lonely at the top” gives a sense of the meaning of the term. The poet could have used the term “duties,” but “offices” broadens the meaning to include the responsibilities of authorities, including parents.
A Spiritual Poem
The sonnet reaches heights of reason and feeling that are rare in poetry, especially poetry written in the twentieth-century and particularly in secular poetry. This poetry qualifies as a spiritual poem, and except for the line “fearing the chronic angers of that house,” reaches nearly spiritual perfection.
For information about various forms of sonnets, please see American, Petrarchan, Shakespearean.
