TABLE OF

CONTENTS:
Introduction....................................1
Brief Bio/Pictures..........................2
A Blessing........................................3
Explication of A Blessing..............4
To The Muse...................................5
Explication of To The
Muse.................................................6
Milkweed..........................................7
Analysis of Milkweed.....................8
Small Frogs Killed on the
Highway............................................9
Analysis of Small Frogs...............10
Autumn Begins In Martins Ferry
Ohio................................................11
Autumn Begins Explication........12
St. Judas.........................................13
Analysis St. Judas.........................14
Works Cited............................15-16
THE GREEN
WALL
The rst book of poetry
usually lays a mere
foundation; with The Green
Wall, James Wright built an
entire structure for a poetic
career.
THE BRANCH
WI LL NOT BREAK
The Branch Will Not Break is
considered the watershed of
Wright's career. Stitt called it
"Wright's happiest book" and
noted that "the book's title
indicates its major afrmationthe
faith that nature will endure and
continue to sustain man."
SHALL WE
GATHER AT THE
RI VER
"I was trying to move
from death to
resurrection and death
again, and challenge
death nally.
For this extensive poetry project I chose the well known poet James Wright. I have read near to
thirty of his poems, and been enticed with almost all of them. Wright does not focus on one
particular or repetitive theme in his poems; he is not known for being a naturalistic poet, nor
a social poet, nor a sexually interested poet--in a sense, he is all of those and much more. Each
one of his poems is unique, dealing with personal issues as well as public ones. Wright is known
more so as one of the rst contemporary writers of his time, and is put in the same league
with the likes of Slyvia Plath, Elizabeth Bishop and Galway Kinnell. Wrights poems are deep,
inspirational and moving and his words ow like lyrics; you can literally hear the music in his
voice. Poems like, Milkweed, take the reader away to another land. It makes his audience feel
as if they are in a faraway place: the wind blowing in their hair, dreaming and contemplating
their past and future. His writing is exciting and full of specic imagery, gurative and literal
language, Biblical references, and his usual free-verse writing. Wright also uses humor and
although he had a sensitive childhood--(a father who never approved of him, and a mother who
is almost never mentioned by him) his love/hate relationship dedicated to his homeland, state
and country can sometimes be humorous. Wright is a moving person, and someone who I would
thoroughly enjoy interviewing and speaking with. The imagery he uses really whisks the reader
away and pushes them to use their imagination. The adjectives and descriptive words he uses is
what really kept me reading. His characters seem real (and some are), his memories feel like
they are my own, and his free verses makes me feel like I dont have to conform to any sort of
unnecessary or unwanted order. Even though Wright has a free-spirited side, he also has an
angry one. According to Karen Whitehill, One of the aspects of Wright's work that so deserves
our attention is the way his development as a poet reects the course of American
contemporary history. In New Poems (1971) he speaks in the voice of a grown man, often in
angry outbursts at the corruption and exploitation during the Vietnam war. His themes echo the
self-hatred and paranoia that accompanied the determination to impose and control in the
name of doing good, even when it led to the most appalling waste. "Man's heart is the rotten
yolk of a blacksnake egg / Corroding, as it is just born, in a pile of dead /Horse dung," he
deplores... Wright is a man of many different ways of literature. His writing developed from his
early career of continuous form and rhyme scheme, to his middle and end career of free verse,
no rhyme and every characteristic of an inuential poet you can think of. Is there nothing he
cant do?!
Introduction
1927 A S E R I E S O F P O E M S 1980
James Arlington Wright was
born in Martins Ferry, Ohio, on
December 13, 1927. At the age
of sixteen, while still in high
school, Wright suffered a
nervous breakdown and was
unable to return to school for
an entire year. Fortunately,
however, he was eventually
able to return and graduated in
1946. Although a year late, he
progressed farther than both
of his parents. At nineteen, he
graduated high school and was
enlisted in the Army. He was
stationed in Japan during the
American occupation. Wright is
an incredibly educated man. He
has received both his masters
and his doctorates. He taught
at The University of Minnesota,
Mcalester College, and New
York City's Hunter College. His
writing was profoundly
affected by the evident poverty
and human suffering around
him, and it is beyond a doubt
what has made him such an
influential poet.
James Wright: Contemporary Poet
J AMES WRI GHT
Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girls wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.
A Blessing, James Wright
In James Wrights poem, A Blessing, two men encounter nature, beautiful creatures, and a
refreshing and calming sense of oneself. Off of the highway towards Rochester, Minnesota,
the men catch a glimpse of two statuesque Indian ponies. Drawn in by their dark, kind
eyes and surprised that they came out of the willows the men approach the ponies with
awe and reverence.Wright discusses thoroughly his take on the female pony:
Her mane falls wild on her forehead/And the light breeze moves me to caress her
long ear/That is delicate as the skin over a girls wrist (19-21).
He relates to the pony in her beauty, her bravery and most of all, it seems, her loneliness.
Wright mentions the ponies loneliness in regards to each other; however, his happiness and
awe of them could apparently relate to his own. Wright takes great consideration
describing the ponies, and seems at home with them. His respect and tenderness in
touching and viewing the ponies gives a specic image throughout the poem. Wrights
comment about their eyes paints a welcoming picture as well. He describes their eyes as
being dark, and full of kindness. According to the Norton of Anthology of American
Literature, He often writes with particular feeling about the creatures of the world--
nches, lizards, hermit crabs-whose liveliness and fragility touch him (2922). Wright is not
exactly known for his heart of gold and love for nature; a poem like this shattered his
usual reform of political and social concerns. Robert Bly, a friend of James and the
second man in the poem, A Blessing, recalls the night of the two ponies thoughtfully, and
discusses the realization and symbolism of the poems.
Surrounded with that feminine presence, his anxiety over death is once more
relieved. The abrupt conclusion suggests two separate realizations: when he dies, he will
not simply vanish or disappear, because the human body contains something invisible and
strong that the reductive scientists do not speak of. Secondly, the Pauline and Augustinian
view that the body is corrupt, sinful and utterly impure does not t the experience. The
image of stepping out of the body is complicated, steroscopic and ascensionist. At one
moment the image seems brilliant and sound, at another moment too hopeful and
somehow ungrounded.
Bly explains the last three lines of the poem, Suddenly I realize/That if I stepped
out of my body I would break/Into blossom. (22-24) It is as if Wright is becoming one
with himself, and he is content and seemingly overjoyed to have shared this experience
with his friend, and with these animals. It must have been a glorious sight: the ponies in
the twilight of the night, their manes owing in the wind, their bodies tensing up with
pure happiness and welcoming the kind visitors. Wrights poem describes something almost
everyone can relate to. Joy and a euphoric feeling of being content with ones
surroundings and simultaneously oneself.
A Blessing Explication
It is all right. All they do
Is go in by dividing
One rib from another. I wouldnt
Lie to you. It hurts
Like nothing I know. All they do
Is burn their way in with a wire.
It forks in and out a little like the tongue
Of that frightened garter snake we caught
At Clovereld, you and me, Jenny
So long ago.
I would lie to you
If I could.
But the only way I can get you to come up
Out of the suckhole, the south face
Of the Powhatan pit, is to tell you
What you know:
You come up after dark, you poise alone
With me on the shore.
I lead you back to this world.
Three lady doctors in Wheeling open
Their ofces at night.
I dont have to call them, they are always
there.
But they only have to put the knife once
Under your breast.
Then they hang their contraption.
And you bear it.
Its awkward a while. Still, it lets you
Walk about on tiptoe if you dont
Jiggle the needle.
It might stab your heart, you see.
The blade hangs in your lung and the tube
Keeps it draining.
That way they only have to stab you
Once. Oh Jenny.
I wish to God I had made this world, this
scurvy
And disastrous place. I
Didnt, I cant bear it
Either, I dont blame you, sleeping down
there
Face down in the unbelievable silk of spring,
Muse of black sand,
Alone.
I dont blame you, I know
The place where you lie.
I admit everything. But look at me.
How can I live without you?
Come up to me, love,
Out of the river, or I will
Come down to you.
To The Muse, James Wright
In James Wrights poem, To The Muse, the speaker seems to be trying to convince the love of his life that
she has to get through her depression. It is evident that she has either a mental disability or is for some
account severely grief stricken. This is apparent in that the narrator repeatedly says, I dont blame you, as
if she has tried to endanger herself or someone elses life, and he can relate with her proposition for
wanting to isolate, hurt or even permanently solve her situation. The poem ows lyrically, almost like a
song, save for the non existent rhyme scheme. The meter, though a little uneven, still resembles a song
sheet, and you can hear the music in the speakers voice if you listen close enough. Wright writes in a
tender, caring voice and throughout the poem brings up distinct memories shared between he and the later
named Jenny. He provokes passion and a feeling of sorrow for Jenny concerning her pain, and afiction.
It is not obvious until the last lines of the poem, however that Jenny has indeed killed herself.
I dont blame you, I know/ The place where you lie./ I admit everything. But look at me./ How can
I live without you?/ Come up to me, love,/ Out of the river, or I will/ Come down to you. (42-48)
The reasoning behind Jennys depression can be read many different ways. I believe it has to do with
abortion, due to the fact that the speaker mentions lady doctors as well as hints at other clues.
Three lady doctors in Wheeling open/ Their ofces at night./ I dont have to call them, they are
always there./ But they only have to put the knife once/ Under your breast./ Then they hang their
contraption./ And you bear it. (20-26)
The most disturbing lines of that stanza, are the last two. What contraption exactly, are they hanging? Some
kind of tool machinery? Her unborn, yet slaughtered child? And what pain is this that shes bearing? The pain
of a so called, doctor, cutting her open and ripping life out of her? The tone throughout the poem, but
especially here is dreadfully macabre. According to Brian Fitzgerald, who also believes Jenny is the victim
of an unbearable abortion (most likely due to societal pressure, as well a demand from the narrator of the
poem, who is conceivably the father of that unborn child),
Such a dark, rich loam in which the meaning of this poem puts down roots. There is Eden and Eve
here (dividing one rib from another, the snake in Clovereld, and the Milton reference: \"How Can I live
without you, how forego thy sweet converse and love so dearly joined.\") there is Orpheus (I lead you back
to this world), there is birth and disease and of course the muses, those three \"lady doctors\" who are
probably abortionists (not Doctors who are ladies, but \"lady doctors\", one a muse who cuts a cord -- and
consider another Wright poem in which Jenny \"left her new baby in a bus station can and sprightly danced
away...\") These are dark musings, the hint of the suicidal despair, that resolve in Wright\'s later poetry. I
draw a direct line between the desperation in the ending of this, the homage to the unresolved love of
Jenny, about whom he still had \"the east wind to say\" -- and \"The Quest,\" the dedication in his
collected works to Annie, and the balance with which it ends: \"And know the world immeasurably alive
and good/Though bare as rifted paradise.\"Two different muses, one buried in the dark, one resolved with
darkness. However one views the cause of Jennys utter distress, it is clear that she made a decision that
she undoubtedly viewed detrimental enough to take her life, and the speaker must have pushed her into
doing it as well., or he would not continuously apologize, and tell her he does not blame her. Wrights
motivation to write this poem seems sincere and touching, and once again he has brought the readers
deeper into his world.
To The Muse, Explication
While I stood here, in the open, lost in myself,
I must have looked a long time
Down the corn rows, beyond grass,
The small house,
White walls, animals lumbering toward the barn.
I look down now. It is all changed.
Whatever it was I lost, whatever I wept for
Was a wild, gentle thing, the small dark eyes
Loving me in secret.
It is here. At a touch of my hand,
The air lls with delicate creatures
From the other world.
Milkweed, James Wright
The poem Milkweed, by James Wright has beautiful imagery, and involves memory and
hope. He writes in free verse--no rhyme or distinct rhythm to catch onto, however there is
a continuing theme throughout. Unusually, this poem is not about his distaste for the
actions of humans, nor his feeling of separation from where he is from, or his decision
for independence from his family as a young adult. Strangely enough, this poem is about
freedom and relaxation. It whisks the reader away into a dreamworld, and really makes
them feel something. Wright seduces the reader into acknowledging their own memories of
wishful thinking, and how much the past has changed. I can imagine him standing on a
hill top, the wind blowing his hair and clothes-not violently, but not exactly gentle, either.
Milkweed, is more naturalistic than societal, unlike many of his other poems. And in this
moment that the speaker is standing on top of this hill, it feels to me as if hes on top of
the world. Contemplating how different things are now, compared to the times hes been
apparently absent. It seems as if the speaker is staring at his childhood home, remembering
the farm animals that used to be in his backyard and even a love that he may have had to
let go of in his youth, but returned to later in life. The lines 7-10 seem to evoke evidence
relating to a lost and found reference. Whatever it was I lost, whatever I wept for/ Was a
wild, gentle thing. The small dark eyes/ Loving me in secret./ It is here. Perhaps Wright
forfeited-by misfortune-a woman whom he loved, or maybe even an animal he considered
a lifelong friend that somehow, in the poem, found him. It is not clear what exactly the
speaker has wept for, or what is here with him now, but it is something that can easily be
left up to imagination. According to Campbell McGrath, a fellow American poet, James
Wright (as well as Slyvia Plath, Elizabeth Bishop, and Frank OHara) ...belong to a kind of
centrist free verse tradition, not part of any school or Movement, a diverse array of
poetics occupying the roomy esthetic middle ground. The extreme camps of American
poetry, Neo-Formalists on the right, and language poets on the left, feel to me less
American than the center. His comment ts the poem in that Wright really is not apart of
any School of Movement or even anything close to similar to any other poets. I enjoy
this poem because it makes me feel the words as sensations written on the page and takes
my mind to a faraway, peaceful place. I can relate to the Milkweed pod, which, when
ready for pollination, bursts open to release and expand its seeds which have grown full
enough to be spread mile and miles across owers and plants, birds and animals and the
sea and sky. Wright entices the senses to feel free, as he always wished he could be, but his
past always seemed to interrupt it. Through this poem, the audience, as well as Wright, can
feel free.
Milkweed, Analysis
Still,
I would leap too
Into the light,
If I had the
chance.
It is everything, the
wet green stalk of
the eld
On the other side
of the road.
They crouch there,
too, faltering in
terror
And take strange
wing. Many
Of the dead never
moved, but many
Of the dead are
alive forever in the
split second
Auto headlights
more sudden
Than their drivers
know.
The drivers burrow
backward into dank
pools
Where nothing
begets
Nothing.
Across the road,
tadpoles are
dancing
On the quarter
thumbnail
Of the moon. They
can't see,
Not yet.
Small Frogs Killed on the Highway, James Wright
Small Frogs On the Highway, is a metaphoric and symbolic poem not only dealing
with a physical metamrphosis, but also touching on growth and development in the
world. According to Professor Pat, an educator at California State University at
Northridge, [Wright] uses descriptive and symbolic imagery to convey a sense of
transformation and inspiration. Wright relates to the frogs initial response to cross
over the dangerous asphalt where the grass is always greener right? He writes, Still, I
would leap too/ Into the light/ If I had the chance. (1-4) Wright uses substantial
imagery and forces the reader to imagine themselves either being a frog, or putting
themselves in a frog-like position. When I read this poem I imagine myself lying on
the ground, watching the brave frogs try to cross the elongated highway one at a
time. I see the cars coming, and I wish to warn them, but I cant--Im helpless and
mute, and can only watch them hop to their doom. I feel this way, because Wright has
related this scenario to life itself. The frogs are the people of the world--people
aspiring to reach their dreams and make it. The ones who want to be doctors,
lawyers, movie stars and musicians; those who would do anything to make a better
life for themselves. The frogs resemble these people. And I, as well as Wright, are the
parents; the wise friend, those who care and try to warn the frogs not to cross. At
least not yet. It is dangerous, and not worth it. And when the frogs ignore our
warnings, the Drivers come in. The drivers are symbolic of all the evil people in the
world. Who will run over any and every one in their way. They do not look for small
frogs crossing the road at night. They look out only for themselves. I think the last
four lines of the second stanza are the most rich in symbolism. Across the road,
tadpoles are dancing/ On the quarter thumbnail/ Of the moon. They cant see,/ Not
yet. It basically states that the tadpoles resemble babies and inside their mothers
womb, they have no idea what dangers, failures and disappointments lie ahead of
them as they grow older. I think Wright subconsciously related a lot of his writing to
his father, especially this one, because his father never wanted him to become a poet
and he never supported him in that. Either way, this poem is very symbolic of growing
up in the real world oppressed and with all odds against you.
Small Frogs on the Highway, Analysis
Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry Ohio, James Wright
In the Shreve High football
stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing
long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes
in the blast furnace at
Benwood,
And the ruptured night
watchman of Wheeling
Steel,
Dreaming of heroes.
All the proud fathers are
ashamed to go home.
Their women cluck like
starved pullets,
Dying for love.
Therefore,
Their sons grow suicidally
beautiful
At the beginning of
October,
And gallop terribly against
each other's bodies.
Throughout his writing career, James Wright has had a serious love/hate relationship with
his hometown in Martins Ferry, Ohio. In some poems he loathes Ohio; and in others, he
praises it. In the particular poem, Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry Ohio he simply admires
it, and explains how one can tell that Autumn has ofcially begun. The setting takes place
at a High School football game. Wright mostly focuses on the crowd, instead of the players
(the fathers of the football stars, specically). They are all drinking beer, rooting for their
kids, and remembering probably what it used to be like when they played football. The
setting seems harmless, but Wright looks at the game in a different light. He writes football
as being very forceful and Americans blinding themselves to the harmful effects on
society. According to Marie Napierkowski, Wright sees football as a violent game that has
become an American ritual-a much beloved one at that-in spite of the barbarism and
destructive nature it represents. While talking about the fathers (which he refers to as
Polacks-meaning most likely dumb or ignorant) nursing their beers on Tittonsville.
Wright also mentions the boys mothers. Their women cluck like starved pullets,/ Dying for
love (7-8). Perhaps Wright is referring to the fact that these rough men dont appreciate
their women emotionally or sexually. The mothers are practically starved for attention
because their men-the fathers and teachers of their children only give recognition to their
sons. The fathers are so focused on their offspring they neglect the women that helped
make them. The last four lines of the poem are particularly interesting to the poem as a
whole. Therefore/ Their sons grow suicidally beautiful/ At the beginning of October,/ And
gallop terribly against each others bodies (9-12). I think Wright is relating the fact that
because the women are uncared for, and the sons witness it on a day to day basis, the
sons fall deeply into a violent spell in which it is almost impossible for them to
overcome. Thus, the moral deterioration of Americans altogether, due to unloving
families. It is interesting though, how he writes such a simple poem that seems as if its
about a high school football game, yet its intertwined with an incredibly deep thought.
Saying football has aided in the destruction of America because of its unnecessary rough
contact, and worldwide accepted nature. Football, much like baseball, is one of Americas
favorite pastimes. Which essentially means every American involved in it is corrupt in
some way.
Autumn Begins... Explication
When I went out to
kill myself, I caught
A pack of hoodlums
beating up a man.
Running to spare his
suffering, I forgot
My name, my
number, how my day
began,
How soldiers milled
around the garden
stone
And sang amusing
songs; how all that
day
Their javelins
measured crowds;
how I alone
Bargained the proper
coins, and slipped
away.
Banished from
heaven, I found this
victim beaten,
Stripped, kneed, and
left to cry. Dropping
my rope
Aside, I ran, ignored
the uniforms:
Then I remembered
bread my esh had
eaten,
The kiss that ate my
esh. Flayed
without hope,
I held the man for
nothing in my arms.
St. Judas, James Wright
St. Judas, by poet James Wright has to be one of the most shocking and interesting poems by
him. The very rst line obviously grabs the audience the most, When I went out to kill
myself... That is al you really need to want to continue reading. The poem later, through each
line continues a story. It takes place during a war, and the speaker witnesses a gang of men
beating up a man, so he runs up to them and tries to save him. During his hurried rush to get to
the man-it must have happened so quickly- that he, forgot my name, my number, how my day
began, etc. The victim was the only thing on his mind. The poem is inspiring though, because it
is about someone thinking of another person rather than themselves.Human nature is to look
the other way, not get involved and let nature run its course, but this man-even though he
apparently was going through his own tragedy-still wanted to help. The victim getting literally
beaten by the gang could have easily been gurative for the soldier getting beat on a day to
day basis by everyone. Or, perhaps, this story could be based on true events. Wright was actually
involved in the war and stationed in Japan in 1946. Whether ctional or factional, this is a
truly inspiring poem. According to fellow poet and friend Robert Bly, The poem is moving; at
the same time it is clear it is not a good poem. The transformation of Judas from a criminal
who did something despicable into a saint is too quickly done it is as if a man were to claim
he dug a hole for one day and immediately comes out on the other side of the earth.
Kierkegaard and others have defended awareness of guilt as one of the most valuable
sensitivities. To say, however, that taking acts which increase guilt is a way toward sainthood is
to give impossible directions. The poem is really an attempt to bend together, with his
imagination, two ends of an iron bar Wrights conviction that he is in some sense a criminal,
and his conviction that he is somehow a man of good will. Bly believes Wright may have had a
guilty conscience about previous decisions he made in his younger years. But it is clear that, if
Wright does indeed have a guilty conscience, about some former sin, he is eager to x it. The
last two lines of the poem remind me of Judas in the Bible. The kiss that ate my esh...
almost seems as if it is referencing when Judas betrayed Jesus Christ for money. It could have
Biblical as well as present and literal meanings. Wright himself comments on the poem stating,
When I wrote [The Green Wall, 1957] I was twenty-seven years old. I could tell you the kind
of thing I had in mind. I wrote a sonnet called "Saint Judas" and in that sonnet I was trying
to do two things technically: to write a sonnet that would be a genuine Petrarchan sonnet and
at the same time be a dramatic monologue. I got that idea from [Edwin Arlington] Robinson,
who has a sonnet called "How Annandale Went Out." This poem is one of my favorites by
Wright. He sincerely opens up and explores a deep, relatable and emotional connection with his
audience.
St. Judas, Analysis
Br u n e n r , Ed wa r d . " J a me s Wr i g h t : Bi o g r a p h i c a l Sk e t c h . " Mo d e r n Ame r i c a n
Po e t r y n . p a g . We b . 3 Ma r 2 0 11 . <h t t p : / / www. e n g l i s h . i l l i n o i s . e d u / ma p s /
p o e t s / s _ z / j _ wr i g h t / b i o . h t m>.
La r s o n , Th o ma s . " Th e Po e t r y o f J a me s Wr i g h t . " Es s a y s a n d Me mo i r s
( 1 9 9 1 ) : n . p a g . We b . 3 Ma r 2 0 11 . <h t t p : / / www. t h o ma s l a r s o n . c o m/
p u b l i c a t i o n s / e s s a y s - a n d - me mo i r s / 1 2 7 - p o e t r y - o f - j a me s - wr i g h t . h t ml >.
Ha i t z , Gr e g o r y. " J a me s Wr i g h t - Po e ms a n d Bi o g r a p h y. " Po e t r y Co n n e c t i o n
n . p a g . We b . 3 Ma r 2 0 11 . <h t t p : / / www. p o e t r y c o n n e c t i o n . n e t / p o e t s /
J a me s _ Wr i g h t >.
Fi t z t e r a l d , Br i a n . " To Th e Mu s e AN=n a l y s i s . " El i t e S k i l l s Cl a s s i c s ( 2 0 1 0 ) :
n . p a g . We b . 3 Ma r 2 0 11 . <h t t p : / / www. e l i t e s k i l l s . c o m/ a n a l y s i s _ p o e t r y /
To _ Th e _ Mu s e _ b y _ J a me s _ Wr i g h t _ a n a l y s i s . p h p >.
Bl y, Ro b e r t . " J a me s Wr i g h t a n d t h e Sl e n d e r Wo ma n . " Mo d e r n Ame r i c a n
Po e t r y ( 1 9 8 8 ) : n . p a g . We b . 3 Ma r 2 0 11 . <h t t p : / / www. e n g l i s h . i l l i n o i s . e d u /
ma p s / p o e t s / s _ z / j _ wr i g h t / b l e s s i n g . h t m>.
James Livingston. "The Green Wall." Magills Survey of American Literature, Revised Edition. Salem Press,
2007. eNotes.com. 2006. 3 Mar, 2011 <http://www.enotes.com/green-wall-salem/
green-wall>
La z e r , Ha n k . " VQR- Th e He a r t o f Li g h t . " Vi r g i n i a Qu a r t e r l y Re v i e w
( 1 9 8 3 ) : n . p a g . We b . 3 Ma r 2 0 11 . <h t t p : / / www. v q r o n l i n e . o r g / a r t i c l e s / 1 9 8 3 /
a u t u mn / l a z e r - h e a r t - l i g h t / >.
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