Who Died and Made You King?

How to Read Literature Like A Professor: Chapter 4

Who died and made the sonnet king of the poetic world? I'm sure epics, limericks, elegies, haikus, oulipos, acrostic, villanelles, and every other poetic form that hasn't managed to stick around effectively would love to know the secret. That question was nagging at my mind the whole time I was reading the fourth chapter of How To Read Literature Like A Professor by Thomas C. Foster. What was so special about this style that helped it stick around? The answer dawned on me through music. As I attempted to figure out what to write this blog post about, I also happened to be listening to the Bach Concerto for two violins in D minor, more commonly known as the Bach Double, and trying to memorize my lines for a production of Comedy of Errors (yes, the one by Shakespeare). Unable to think of anything, my mind began to drift away into the music.

Bach begins the piece with the second violin making a statement: the first four measures of the piece. Then the first violin comes back with a related statement: the exact same phrase, just a perfect 4th higher. Then there is a shift. The two play alternating variations of a new idea for the next 8 measures. Then they take two measures to finish that theme before starting a new statement. All of that sounded extremely familiar.

The first quatrain of a Shakespearean sonnet makes a statement. The next makes a closely related statement. The third starts a slightly new idea. Then the final couplet ties it all together.

That's when I began to envision parallels between music and poetry. Every word is a note. Every line a measure. And every phrase a quatrain. However, it wasn't just these general parallels, Bach had practically mimicked the rhyme scheme of a sonnet (a Shakespearean one to be exact). But isn't that how things usually happen; the things going on in your life all seem to be related on some deeper level.

But still the question hadn't been answered yet. Why have sonnets and music (especially classical), lasted all this time? Then I was reminded of something my director had said to the cast before we read through the script. She explained why iambic pentameter is not only persuasive, but also natural.

The average human can only comprehend and process about 10 syllables at a time before they get overloaded and tune out. The purpose of a strong/soft syllable pattern is to imitate a heartbeat. That was the key. Sonnets are a manifestation of our nature on a quintessential level. The words become the heartbeat to the life, which creates new meaning. Not to mention, humans also identify well with symmetry and uniformity. The fact that 14 lines of rhyming text is not only symmetric in the sense that every line ends fairly uniformly when it comes to pronunciation, but also when just glancing at it there is a pleasant symmetry to the square it creates. Symmetry instills in us a sense of balance, and that balance translates to being able to easily internalize the text. Those are the reasons why Shakespeare's writings, as imperfect and filled with plot holes as they are, music, even ancient classical music that wasn't always appreciated at the time in which it was written, and sonnets, kings of the world of poetry and declared by English professors to be the only relevant poetic form, have been maintained throughout the centuries, flaws and all.