Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained

"The Hungry Man's Wheel" by César Vallejo is a staggering representation of destitution, both physical and existential. The speaker, propelled by the gnawing absence in his stomach and soul, embarks on an anguished search for the most fundamental necessities-a stone to sit on and a morsel of bread. The poem unveils poverty's capacity to not just physically deplete, but also to spiritually exhaust and degrade. "I emerge from between my teeth, sniffing," he begins, emphasizing that poverty has made him a caricature of himself; it is as though he is regurgitated by his own being, "caught on a sliver by the cuff of my shirt."

The desire for something as simple as a stone to sit on gains monumental importance. This stone serves as a symbol of basic dignity, a minimal requirement for a life that isn't constantly marred by instability and upheaval. Yet, even this stone is denied to him, both by fate-"the woman who gives birth stumbles on"-and by a world that has cornered him into destitution. The stone is rendered sacred and profane at the same time; it is "Mother of the lamb, the cause, the root," as well as the stone that "passed through my soul stooping."

Vallejo's speaker doesn't just ask for any stone; he asks for "the limestone, the bad one" or even "the one not even useful to throw at a man." This specificity in his desperation underlines how the denial of even the most insignificant comforts can aggravate the soul's suffering. Each stone embodies a different form of disappointment and degradation: the limestone that is "humble ocean" suggests a humility forced upon him by circumstance, while the stone "you find by chance and only in an insult" reveals how the marginalized are often further dehumanized by society's scorn.

As the speaker's plea for a stone metamorphoses into a plea for a "crust of bread," we see how poverty has robbed him of the very essence of humanity-nourishment, both physical and spiritual. "No more do I have to be what I always have to be," he admits, indicating how the ceaseless cycle of poverty has corroded his identity. The plea is not merely for food but for the right to exist with a semblance of dignity and stability.

The closing lines-"I discover a strange shape, my shirt is very ragged / And dirty / And still I have nothing, / This is horrible"-are an unvarnished look at the depths of his desolation. The "strange shape" perhaps refers to his own reflection, a ghastly version of himself that he barely recognizes.

In summary, "The Hungry Man's Wheel" serves as an indictment of a society that can deprive its most vulnerable members of even the smallest dignities. Through intensely personal and vivid imagery, Vallejo portrays the multifaceted nature of poverty-it doesn't just starve the body but also diminishes the soul, reducing a man to less than what he "always has to be." The poem is a scathing commentary on the social and existential conditions that breed such soul-crushing poverty, and it forces the reader to confront these harsh realities head-on.

POEM TEXT;

I emerge from between my teeth, sniffing,
Crying out, pushing,
Dropping my trousers...
My stomach empty, my guts empty,
Poverty pulls me out from between my own teeth,
Caught on a sliver by the cuff of my shirt.

A stone to sit on,
Can't I even have that now?
Even that stone, the woman who gives birth stumbles on,
Mother of the lamb, the cause, the root,
Can't I even have that now?
At least the other one
That passed through my soul stooping.
At least
The limestone, the bad one (humble ocean)
Or the one not even useful to throw at a man,
Let me have that one now!

At least the one you find by chance and only in an insult,
Let me have that one now!
At least the twisted and crowned one in which
But once, the tread of clear conscience resounds.
Or at least that other which is hurled in a suitable curve
Will fall by itself
In declaration of inmost truth.
Let me have that one now!

A crumb of bread, can't I even have that now?
No more do I have to be what I always have to be.
But give me
A stone on which to sit,
But give me
Please, a crust of bread on which to sit,
But give me,
In Spanish,
Something, at least to drink, to eat, to live, to rest me,
And afterwards I will go on...
I discover a strange shape, my shirt is very ragged
And dirty
And still I have nothing,
This is horrible.

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