The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost

Last time I wrote a blog entry I was sat at my kitchen table overseeing a pot of simmering lentils. Chickpeas this time.

I think this poem speaks very well for itself and  - surprise! - poets in the late nineteenth century experienced exactly the same decision-orientated conundrums we can all empathise with today.

Which part speaks most to you? For me right now it's the feeling of peering down each road, weighing my options, feeling immensely the difficulty of the fact that I cannot 'travel both and be one traveler.'

The tense of this poem did puzzle me a little at first. Frost mixes past, present and future in a way that made me wonder where exactly along their journey his speaker is speaking from. Perhaps that's the point. What I have now surmised however, is that they're in the middle looking back for the first three stanzas, then in the fourth they contemplate the future by imagining how they'll speak of their choice 'ages and ages hence.'

Frost's speaker is certainly very positive and self-assured. They claim to have taken 'the road less traveled,' but the second stanza contradicts this - the chosen path looks less travelled but in reality they've been 'worn...really about the same.' So...does that mean he's taking the piss out of those who claim that the benefits of taking 'the road less travelled' outweigh those of taking the conventional road? This appeals to my snarky cynical side but the non-conformist in me doesn't want to believe it. But you can't ignore the first two lines of stanza three - the leaves of neither path are blackened by footsteps. They're virtually the same when it comes to wear and tear.

So, my philosophical thought for you all today? It's utterly unoriginal, banal and uninspiring, but sometimes we need reminding: whatever path you take, it makes no difference. You'll be fine.