Michelle Dow Marcia Kishida IB English SL (days 2/4) Ms. Zeiler Owen’s “Mental Cases” Michelle Dow Marcia Kishida IB English SL (days 2/4) Ms. Zeiler

Wilfred Owen British soldier in WWI Craiglockhart War Hospital suffered from “shell shock” (post traumatic stress disorder) Craiglockhart War Hospital Wrote poetry as a way to heal

Song and Picture Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata of 1801 Solemn, slow pace, creates image of someone wondering around and lost his mind Gradually build up the painful atmosphere happier melodies, but only for short period - contrast feeling that emphasize sadness. Audience  sad, painful Taken by Official War Photographer at an Australian Advanced Dressing Station near Ypres in 1917 “thousand-yard” stare which Owen describes in imagery Disturbing tone, atmosphere

Definitions (l. 2) Purgatorial: removing or purging sin (l.13) Sloughs: muddy, swampy area (l.18) Rucked: to make a fold in; crease (l. 26) Knouts: used for flogging (l. 26) Scourging: whip or lash, esp. for the infliction of punishment

Title: Mental Cases Medical cases in which the damage is in the mind Madness

Focus Statement Owen conveys the theme of the mental toll on soldiers from the horrors of war, lasts forever leading to a state of madness, and also the guilt of those who look on by using: figurative language, including implied metaphors and similes which also creates imagery a guilty tone created by diction, sound devices, and voice Syntax, such as grammatical errors, questions and hyphens to emphasize key lines.

Figurative Language: Implied Metaphors Similes Imagery

Implied Metaphors (l. 2) “Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows,” (l.6) “…Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets?” (l.13-14) “Wading sloughs of flesh…Treading blood from lungs…”

Similes (l.4) “Baring teeth that leer like skulls’ tongues wicked?” (l. 22) “Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh”

Body Imagery scattered throughout poem, like dismembered limbs Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight? Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows, Drooping tongues from jaws that slob their relish, Baring teeth that leer like skulls' tongues wicked? Stroke on stroke of pain, — but what slow panic, Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets? Ever from their hair and through their hand palms Misery swelters. Surely we have perished Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish? — These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished. Memory fingers in their hair of murders, Multitudinous murders they once witnessed. Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander, Treading blood from lungs that had loved laughter. Always they must see these things and hear them, Batter of guns and shatter of flying muscles, Carnage incomparable and human squander Rucked too thick for these men's extrication. Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented Back into their brains, because on their sense Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black; Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh — Thus their heads wear this hilarious, hideous, Awful falseness of set-smiling corpses. — Thus their hands are plucking at each other; Picking at the rope-knouts of their scourging; Snatching after us who smote them, brother, Pawing us who dealt them war and madness. scattered throughout poem, like dismembered limbs gory/graphic => realities the soldiers faced disturbing atmosphere repetition of blood => feeling of being surrounded by blood

Light/Dark Imagery (l. 1) “Why sit they here in twilight” (l. 2) “… purgatorial shadows,” (l. 21-22) “Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black; Dawn breaks open like a wound…”

Diction Sound devices Voice Tone Diction Sound devices Voice

Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight? Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows, Drooping tongues from jaws that slob their relish, Baring teeth that leer like skulls' tongues wicked? Stroke on stroke of pain, — but what slow panic, Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets? Ever from their hair and through their hand palms Misery swelters. Surely we have perished Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish? — These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished. Memory fingers in their hair of murders, Multitudinous murders they once witnessed. Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander, Treading blood from lungs that had loved laughter. Always they must see these things and hear them, Batter of guns and shatter of flying muscles, Carnage incomparable and human squander Rucked too thick for these men's extrication. Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented Back into their brains, because on their sense Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black; Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh — Thus their heads wear this hilarious, hideous, Awful falseness of set-smiling corpses. — Thus their hands are plucking at each other; Picking at the rope-knouts of their scourging; Snatching after us who smote them, brother, Pawing us who dealt them war and madness. Diction Punishment/penance, show suffering of soldiers and guilt of onlookers Oxymorons, unnatural state of soldiers

Alliteration Link contrasting words together smooth => sorrowful tone, not angry Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight? Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows, Drooping tongues from jaws that slob their relish, Baring teeth that leer like skulls' tongues wicked? Stroke on stroke of pain, — but what slow panic, Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets? Ever from their hair and through their hand palms Misery swelters. Surely we have perished Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish? — These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished. Memory fingers in their hair of murders, Multitudinous murders they once witnessed. Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander, Treading blood from lungs that had loved laughter. Always they must see these things and hear them, Batter of guns and shatter of flying muscles, Carnage incomparable and human squander Rucked too thick for these men's extrication. Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented Back into their brains, because on their sense Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood black; Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh — Thus their heads wear this hilarious, hideous, Awful falseness of set-smiling corpses. — Thus their hands are plucking at each other; Picking at the rope-knouts of their scourging; Snatching after us who smote them, brother, Pawing us who dealt them war and madness.

smooth => sorrowful tone, not angry Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight? Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows, Drooping tongues from jaws that slob their relish, Baring teeth that leer like skulls' tongues wicked? Stroke on stroke of pain, — but what slow panic, Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets? Ever from their hair and through their hand palms Misery swelters. Surely we have perished Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish? — These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished. Memory fingers in their hair of murders, Multitudinous murders they once witnessed. Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander, Treading blood from lungs that had loved laughter. Always they must see these things and hear them, Batter of guns and shatter of flying muscles, Carnage incomparable and human squander Rucked too thick for these men's extrication. Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented Back into their brains, because on their sense Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black; Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh — Thus their heads wear this hilarious, hideous, Awful falseness of set-smiling corpses. — Thus their hands are plucking at each other; Picking at the rope-knouts of their scourging; Snatching after us who smote them, brother, Pawing us who dealt them war and madness. Assonance smooth => sorrowful tone, not angry

Consonance harsher, for more traumatic subjects Disonance Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight? Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows, Drooping tongues from jaws that slob their relish, Baring teeth that leer like skulls' tongues wicked? Stroke on stroke of pain, — but what slow panic, Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets? Ever from their hair and through their hand palms Misery swelters. Surely we have perished Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish? — These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished. Memory fingers in their hair of murders, Multitudinous murders they once witnessed. Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander, Treading blood from lungs that had loved laughter. Always they must see these things and hear them, Batter of guns and shatter of flying muscles, Carnage incomparable and human squander Rucked too thick for these men's extrication. Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented Back into their brains, because on their sense Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black; Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh — Thus their heads wear this hilarious, hideous, Awful falseness of set-smiling corpses. — Thus their hands are plucking at each other; Picking at the rope-knouts of their scourging; Snatching after us who smote them, brother, Pawing us who dealt them war and madness.

Voice (l. 27-28) “Snatching after us who smote them, brother, pawing us who dealt them war and madness” Clear distinction btw. reader & speaker vs. soldiers (us vs. them) not accusatory, not YOU who has smote them still uses “these” not “those” to bring soldiers closer

Grammatical Errors Hyphens Questions Syntax Grammatical Errors Hyphens Questions

Grammatical Errors creates feeling something is wrong Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight? Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows, Drooping tongues from jaws that slob their relish, Baring teeth that leer like skulls' tongues wicked? Stroke on stroke of pain, — but what slow panic, Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets? Ever from their hair and through their hand palms Misery swelters. Surely we have perished Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish? - These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished. Memory fingers in their hair of murders, Multitudinous murders they once witnessed. Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander, Treading blood from lungs that had loved laughter. Always they must see these things and hear them, Batter of guns and shatter of flying muscles, Carnage incomparable and human squander Rucked too thick for these men's extrication. Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented Back into their brains, because on their sense Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black; Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh — Thus their heads wear this hilarious, hideous, Awful falseness of set-smiling corpses. — Thus their hands are plucking at each other; Picking at the rope-knouts of their scourging; Snatching after us who smote them, brother, Pawing us who dealt them war and madness. creates feeling something is wrong makes reader stop and think emphasize lines

Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight? Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows, Drooping tongues from jaws that slob their relish, Baring teeth that leer like skulls' tongues wicked? Stroke on stroke of pain, — but what slow panic, Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets? Ever from their hair and through their hand palms Misery swelters. Surely we have perished Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish? — These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished. Memory fingers in their hair of murders, Multitudinous murders they once witnessed. Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander, Treading blood from lungs that had loved laughter. Always they must see these things and hear them, Batter of guns and shatter of flying muscles, Carnage incomparable and human squander Rucked too thick for these men's extrication. Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented Back into their brains, because on their sense Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black; Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh — Thus their heads wear this hilarious, hideous, Awful falseness of set-smiling corpses. — Thus their hands are plucking at each other; Picking at the rope-knouts of their scourging; Snatching after us who smote them, brother, Pawing us who dealt them war and madness. Questions Brings audience in, makes them think when questions are directly posed

Hyphens breaks pace => brings attention to following sentence Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight? Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows, Drooping tongues from jaws that slob their relish, Baring teeth that leer like skulls' tongues wicked? Stroke on stroke of pain, — but what slow panic, Gouged these chasms round their fretted sockets? Ever from their hair and through their hand palms Misery swelters. Surely we have perished Sleeping, and walk hell; but who these hellish? — These are men whose minds the Dead have ravished. Memory fingers in their hair of murders, Multitudinous murders they once witnessed. Wading sloughs of flesh these helpless wander, Treading blood from lungs that had loved laughter. Always they must see these things and hear them, Batter of guns and shatter of flying muscles, Carnage incomparable and human squander Rucked too thick for these men's extrication. Therefore still their eyeballs shrink tormented Back into their brains, because on their sense Sunlight seems a blood-smear; night comes blood-black; Dawn breaks open like a wound that bleeds afresh — Thus their heads wear this hilarious, hideous, Awful falseness of set-smiling corpses. — Thus their hands are plucking at each other; Picking at the rope-knouts of their scourging; Snatching after us who smote them, brother, Pawing us who dealt them war and madness. Hyphens breaks pace => brings attention to following sentence answers questions posed

Linking to Other Poems Dissimilar to “Dulce et Decorum Est” (l. 25-26) “My friend, you would not tell with such high zest to children…the old Lie…” No bitter, sarcastic tone Similar to “Strange Meeting” (l. 39) “Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.” Continual mental suffering