The Trees
The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too,
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.Yet still the unresting castles thresh
Philip Larkin
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.
When one’s mind is preoccupied with the fear and dread of death, anything that draws attention to life, breath, newness and birth can become a somber reminder that all will eventually come to an end. These are the weighty thoughts of Philip Larkin. Comparing his drafts to the final print of “The Trees,” it is evident that the poem originates from various ideas about the presence and the escape of grief. Grief is a sentiment that Larkin knew very well; it was inescapable for him, as death itself is inescapable. Since the inevitability of death is a common theme in Larkin’s poetry, it is not surprising that the arrival of spring, and the newness of life, would invoke again in him heavy sentiments toward the certain departure awaiting all mankind. Through the manuscripts he left behind, one can perceive that he begins his drafts of “The Trees” with his vision centered on a relation between springtime and grief. As he progresses and moves the poem toward its completion, a clear shift in voice and meaning becomes evident. From an original focus on loss and grief, Larkin moves the poem, not away from the initial idea, but rather toward a conflict between the harsh, cold voice of grief he feels, and another voice that holds a slight hint of hope.
The imagery portrayed by the speaker in the final revision of “The Trees” depicts an awe-filled spirit who is more than capable of recognizing beauty in nature. “The recent buds relax and spread”, it speaks softly in line 3. The initial lines of the first stanza are certainly coming from this gentle voice. The speaker emphasizes the beauty of springtime in a rather child-like, wonder-filled voice, as if he is searching for hope. It turns in the last line of the stanza, “Their greenness is a kind of grief.” Here it appears that the speaker’s elevated and wonderful thoughts suddenly reawaken and remind him that hope, indeed does not exist; and it is from the newness of life brought forth by springtime that this speaker remembers his coming death.
The speaker alludes to even the death of the newly-budding leaves in the following stanza, and shakes off the naivety of the previous voice, introducing a harsh and cold replacement. “No, they die too”, he says in line 6 and offers logical reasons for their “trick of looking new”, which contrasts the wonder-based voice from the beginning. In the final stanza, the speaker seems to return again to the longing for hope. The voice shifts back almost to what it was initially, with the imagery in the lines depicting the beauty before him. “Yet still unresting castles thresh in fullgrown thickness every May”, he says in lines 9 and 10, with a seemingly inquisitive tone. The last two lines are a hopeful couplet. The speaker is listening to the voice of springtime saying, “Last year is dead…begin afresh, afresh, afresh.” The word choices in these lines are replete with lightness and a hopeful inclination. The conclusion implies that the speaker is caught between the two voices of logic and hope in his mind, and he is unsure where the truth lies.
Comparing this finalized version of the poem to the drafts from Larkin’s manuscripts, one can gather the inconclusiveness of his thoughts. Larkin wrestles with many ideas, especially the leaning toward a heavy, negative, grief-stricken voice—that is his inclination because that is what he feels. To establish the heavy voice, he includes phrases such as, “old clothes of grief”, “irrelevance of grief”, and “something returns, but not what we’ve lost.” It is easy to follow his thoughts through the refining process of editing this poem. The original voice he wants to portray and the original message he wants to convey to the readers is that life is merely a reminder of death.
He continues to work with the phrasing to find the perfect voice for his message. He tests phrases like, “the trees are dying too”, and “flowers an increasing emptiness”. However, as one proceeds further through the pages of the drafts, it becomes evident that Larkin desires to give the voice of the poem a feel of uncertainty. This points to an idea that Larkin, himself, was uncertain and truly wished for some kind of hope to arise from somewhere. There was conflict within his own soul as he wrote this poem, fighting the fear and dread of death. Hope, to him, must have seemed a beautiful and faraway concept. The voice of conflict that Larkin decided to establish is so distinct that it could be heard as two separate voices, like an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. Larkin’s final edition of “The Trees” speaks a two-fold message of springtime—one through the eyes of a hopeful child and one through those of a fearful man. Springtime is a reminder of life, birth, and newness. To some, this idea can carry with it baskets of grief; but to all, it still offers beauty and a whisper to start afresh.
January 31, 2018
Works Cited
Larkin, Philip. “The Trees.” Philip Larkin Collected Poems, edited by Anthony Thwaite, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2004, pp. 124.