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Explication of Ghazal of the Better Unbegun

To begin to try to understand a ghazal, you first have to understand the form itself. Every couplet seems completely unrelated, and that is no accident; in fact, thats what makes a ghazal a ghazal. For that reason, it is incredibly difficult to analyze these poems in particular (like explicating wasnt hard enough already). However, through analyzing the individual components, a single deeper meaning should be found. In The Ghazal of the Better Unbegun by Heather McHugh, it becomes painfully evident that McHugh is a genius. Her refrain, unlike in other ghazals, is not a word or phrase; it is phonetic. This makes the poem flow more smoothly, because in normal speech we wouldnt repeat the same phrase every other sentence. Her form is also remarkable; each and every line is the same length (14 syllables), which makes it a true ghazal, while remaining autonomous and more-or-less grammatically correct. The tone seems self-deprecating, where in the first stanza she assaults her own tendency to be fastidious, in the third stanza she pities her own need for attention, in the fourth her outward appearance is questioned and the fifth her inward character, and finally in the last stanza she revisits the theme of the first stanza. The second and sixth stanzas are wild cards-- not only do they not address McHugh indirectly, they also do not seem to have any relation at all in what they criticize (one ridicules a single person while the other dwells on morality). If we get a little abstract, we can find the underlying theme to be the pressure of living in a judgmental society can make us crazy. McHugh cleverly uses one rule of ghazals to reinforce this idea: it is customary for the author to explicitly name themselves in the final couplet, which McHugh utilizes to make herself seem a little bizarre (through referring to herself in the third-person).

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I, personally, thought some parts of the poem were hilariously clever. Her calling Icarus two pronouns and a vehicle (I, car and us) at first seemed silly, but I saw later that it actually fit into her overall message. If you know the story of Icarus, you know he flies away from his prison, but because of hubris he disobeys his father and ends up crashing to his death. This fits in (almost) neatly; Icarus was his own person, and because of that he died. Or, if you prefer, society shunned him, and to escape his solidarity he flew away (which is, as McHugh pointed out, a little absurd). I believe that McHugh did an excellent job on this ghazal, as it is entertaining, enlightening, and one of few to successfully translate the poetry form to English. Compared to other ghazals in English, I found this one much more accessible because she limited her use of abstract religious references, which is annoyingly predominant in many other English ghazals, and she keeps images concrete. There are no gilded boughs that sing of love and peace and and any other intangible reference mixed in pointlessly with nature and personified beyond recognition. This piece convinced me that ghazals, in fact, can be cool.