The villanelle is a beautiful and haunting form that began
in French and took on its present shape in the mid-nineteenth century, according
to Amanda French.
It’s a demanding form in many ways. The first and third lines of the villanelle have to repeat throughout the poem in a set order. If the poet uses rhyme, only two rhymes are permitted in the entire poem.
It’s a demanding form in many ways. The first and third lines of the villanelle have to repeat throughout the poem in a set order. If the poet uses rhyme, only two rhymes are permitted in the entire poem.
The villanelle was originally a song form for country dances.
The name derives from the Italian villano,
which means “peasant” or “boor.” But there is nothing boorish about this form.
It is very much like a country dance,
though, with its deliberate repetitions and variations. Folk dances often take
the participants through a series of steps that mirror one another from
different angles and with different partners, but then wind up more or less
where they started.
 |
| French country dance |
Here’s
a video of a charming traditional French folk dance, for example, that has
a theme and variations pattern similar to a villanelle. The pattern of the villanelle makes much more sense when you think about its origins in folk dance.
The Academy
of American Poets website describes the form this way:
“The highly structured villanelle is a nineteen-line poem
with two repeating rhymes and two refrains. The form is made up of five tercets
followed by a quatrain. The first and third lines of the opening tercet are
repeated alternately in the last lines of the succeeding stanzas; then in the
final stanza, the refrain serves as the poem’s two concluding lines. Using
capitals for the refrains and lowercase letters for the rhymes, the form could
be expressed as: A1 b A2 / a b A1 / a b A2 / a b A1 / a b A2 / a b A1 A2.”
Of
course, slight variations on the repeated lines are allowed, even encouraged.
You’ve undoubtedly seen villanelles, even if you weren’t
aware that was the form you were reading. Some of the most famous villanelles
in English are “Do Not
Go Gentle into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas, and Elizabeth Bishop’s “One Art.”
The most challenging aspect of the villanelle, from my
standpoint, is that the refrains, the two lines that repeat, have to occur four
times each in the space of the poem’s nineteen lines. Not only that, the two
refrains have to rhyme.
One approach to these limitations is to choose refrains that
are fairly general, and can reoccur in several contexts without stretching
their meaning. W.H. Auden, for example, in his villanelle “If I Could Tell You,” begins his poem:
Time will say nothing but I told
you so,
Time only knows the price we have
to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you
know.
Lines as general as “Time will say nothing but I told you
so,” and “If I could tell you I
would let you know,” can make sense in many contexts, and Auden ingeniously creates
several settings for these lines in his poem.
 |
| W. H. Auden |
That flexibility is a plus of a
vanilla refrain. On the other hand, choosing fairly neutral refrains means that
eight of your poem’s nineteen lines are something of a throwaway in terms of
their poetic energy.
To me, a more exciting solution to the villanelle’s
restrictions is to pick two absolutely killer lines that bear repeating four
times each. Dylan Thomas accomplishes this brilliantly:
Do not go gentle into that good
night,
Old age should burn and rave at
close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the
light.
In the first four words of the poem, he strategically violates
the rules of grammar by using “gentle” instead of the adverb “gently” to modify
the verb “go.” He also creates a sonorous but not predictable alliteration with
“go,” “gentle,” and “good.” He embeds a paradox in just eight words: the “good
night” is actually something to be resisted.
In Dylan Thomas’s second refrain, the repetition of the
powerful word “Rage” at the start is unforgettable. It also adds assonance to
the word “rave” in the previous line. “Light” and “night” are a dynamic pairing for the two main rhymes in the poem.
The problem with the killer refrain is that it has to be
complex enough—linguistically and emotionally—to merit all those repetitions.
Keep in mind that once you’ve written the first tercet,
you’ve also written the last two lines of your villanelle, so plan ahead. Your two
refrains have to work not only as a beginning but as an ending, and they have
to continually surprise the reader. Easier said than done!
One good thing about the repeating lines in a villanelle: as the poet George Higgins put it, “As soon as you’ve started your poem, you’re already a third of the way done!”
Read Zack Rogow’s villanelle, “Film Noir”
Read Zack Rogow’s villanelle, “Film Noir”
Zack’s most recent book of poems, Irreverent Litanies, including his villanelle, “Film Noir”
Zack’s most recent translation, Bérénice 1934–44: An Actress in Occupied Paris by Isabelle Stibbe
How to Get Published
Getting the Most from Your Writing Workshop
How Not to Become a Literary Dropout
Putting Together a Book Manuscript
Working with a Writing Mentor
How to Deliver Your Message
Does the Muse Have a Cell Phone?
Why Write Poetry?
Poetic Forms: Introduction; The Sonnet, The Sestina, The Ghazal, The Tanka, The Villanelle
Praise and Lament
How to Be an American Writer
Writers and Collaboration
Types of Closure in Poetry
