Since I missed the class discussion on Wilfred Owen’s “Dulce et Decorum Est” I wanted to share a couple of my thoughts on this incredible piece. This poem is one of the main works people think of when World War One literature is brought up because it draws the audience into the experience of war. The fast pace has always struck me because it is remarkably disorienting and anxiety-inducing. Alliteration like “Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,” and consonance with the repetition of “ing” throughout the poem, but particularly with “guttering, choking, drowning” almost takes the audience’s breath away as the soldiers are struggling to breathe. The idea of a lack of breath continues as even his dreams about the horror is “smothering.” Owen engages all of the senses to depict the horrific experience of being on the front, but to fully appreciate them I think the poem needs to be read more than once. The first time everyone reads the poem, they of course focus on the striking words “Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!” but on this reading of the poem I found myself noticing more of the ways he focuses on loss of senses, such as “deaf even to the hoots/Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.” As the poem nears the end, the pace slows a little and the most notable aspect becomes the bitter tone in the final stanza. The speaker addresses the audience directly; he does not blame some higher power or government for what happened, but rather each and every person who allows the war to happen. “If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace/…My friend, you would not tell with such high zest” is slower than the early stanzas and vividly creates a harsh tone meant to cause guilt and point out the injustice which occurred. Beyond the stylistic excellence Owen displays, his powerful word choice is to me what really makes this poem a masterpiece. Any poet could have used alliteration or written with a fast pace, but the word choice sets individual poets apart. Language like “An ecstasy of fumbling,” “like a devil’s sick of sin,” “under a green sea,” and the entirety of the last three lines are what makes this poem relentlessly stick with me every time I read it. Poetry, especially when written by brilliant minds like Wilfred Owen, seems to me to be an even more effective way to describe the war experience than novels because people did not get the chance to read a plot synopsis on the back, read an introduction, or have an exposition to war. From nurses to ambulance drivers to soldiers to those on the homefront, everyone was thrown into something they were not prepared for. Have you guys been more moved by the poetry or the novels we read? (I know it’s hard to pick they are both impactful in their own ways, just curious if anyone does have a preference!)