English GCSE AQA: Comprehensive Analysis of the Power and Conflict Poems

Extract From, The Prelude (1850) - William Wordsworth

Précis: This extract describes how Wordsworth went out in a boat on a lake at night. He was alone and a mountain peak loomed over him; its presence had a great effect and for days afterwards, he was troubled by the experience.

Context: William Wordsworth was a romantic poet; he wrote poems about the world we live in which challenged people and the way they thought at the time. During this time, epic poems of large length were common, as were poems which looked at the world and man's place within it. This extract is from a much larger poem, it looks at the spiritual and moral development of a man growing up. 

Wordsworth wrote The Prelude as a long autobiographical poem in 14 sections. The poem shows the spiritual growth of the poet, how he comes to terms with who he is, and his place in nature and the world. Wordsworth was inspired by memories of events and visits to different places, explaining how they affected him. He described The Prelude as a poem on the growth of my own mind with contrasting views of Man, Nature, and Society. 

He was born in Cockermouth in Cumbria, part of the region commonly known as the Lake District, and his birthplace had a huge influence on his writing. So did the fact that his mother died when he was only eight years old.

Wordsworth does not view humanity as having authority over nature. If anything, it's the other way round as we can see from his description of the huge mountain. Wordsworth also realises that once an event has happened, that doesn't mean it's over; the effect stayed with him for days afterwards.  

Themes: The poem is quite hard to relate to conflict and power. However, there is a sense of conflict between man and nature where nature is eventually shown to be more powerful in the end. 

Also, themes of nature occur as humanity is part of nature and sometimes we can be made to feel very small and insignificant by the natural world. 

Loneliness also appears a lot, as Wordsworth is often on his own throughout The Prelude and this is important to him. He can think more clearly and is more affected by events and places as a result. 

Lastly, the night is prevalent since the poem seems to suggest that you can sometimes experience feelings and events more clearly at night, perhaps due to loneliness.

Structure: The Prelude can definitely be viewed as an epic poem, in length at least. Epics are very long pieces of writing that usually deal with exciting, action-packed heroic events like wars or explorations. Although many of the events Wordsworth writes about are "ordinary" they are given an epic quality, to fully describe the impact they had on his life.  

The work is in iambic pentameter to give it a consistent pace. As the poem progresses the journey the poet is on becomes rougher and words like "and" are repeated to give it a breathless pace and feel.

"Proud of his skill, to reach a chosen point" 

There are no stanzas: the writing is continuous though there is plenty of punctuation to help us read it. This extract is a complete story in itself. It starts with One summer evening... and finishes with the effects on his mind of the boat trip: a trouble to my dreams.  

Furthermore, the setting is of a journey in a boat. The journey represents a more spiritual journey and it becomes more rough and hostile along the way. At first, nature is shown at peace with the poet, later as it gets darker and he tries to reach the horizon it becomes harsh and predatory, putting man back in his place.

One summer evening (led by her) I found
A little boat tied to a willow tree
Within a rocky cave, its usual home.
Straight I unloosed her chain, and stepping in
Pushed from the shore. It was an act of stealth
And troubled pleasure, nor without the voice
Of mountain-echoes did my boat move on;
Leaving behind her still, on either side,
Small circles glittering idly in the moon,
Until they melted all into one track
Of sparkling light. But now, like one who rows,
Proud of his skill, to reach a chosen point
With an unswerving line, I fixed my view
Upon the summit of a craggy ridge,
The horizon's utmost boundary; far above
Was nothing but the stars and the grey sky.
She was an elfin pinnace; lustily
I dipped my oars into the silent lake,
And, as I rose upon the stroke, my boat
Went heaving through the water like a swan;
When, from behind that craggy steep till then
The horizon's bound, a huge peak, black and huge,
As if with voluntary power instinct,
Upreared its head. I struck and struck again,
And growing still in stature the grim shape
Towered up between me and the stars, and still,
For so it seemed, with purpose of its own
And measured motion like a living thing,
Strode after me. With trembling oars I turned,
And through the silent water stole my way
Back to the covert of the willow tree;
There in her mooring-place I left my bark,–
And through the meadows homeward went, in grave
And serious mood; but after I had seen
That spectacle, for many days, my brain
Worked with a dim and undetermined sense
Of unknown modes of being; o'er my thoughts
There hung a darkness, call it solitude
Or blank desertion. No familiar shapes
Remained, no pleasant images of trees,
Of sea or sky, no colours of green fields;
But huge and mighty forms, that do not live
Like living men, moved slowly through the mind
By day, and were a trouble to my dreams.