A Dilemma
Filled with a zeal to serve my fellow men,For years I criticised their prose and verges:Pointed out all their blunders of the pen,Their shallowness of thought and feeling; thenDamned them up hill and down with hearty curses!
They said: "That's all that he can do--just sneer,And pull to pieces and be analytic.Why doesn't he himself, eschewing fear,Publish a book or two, and so appearAs one who has the right to be a critic?
"Let him who knows it all forbear to tellHow little others know, but show his learning."The public added: "Who has written wellMay censure freely"--quoting Pope. I fellInto the trap and books began out-turning,--
Books by the score--fine prose and poems fair,And not a book of them but was a terror,They were so great and perfect; though I swearI tried right hard to work in, here and there,(My nature still forbade) a fault or error.
'Tis true, some wretches, whom I'd scratched, no doubt,Professed to find--but that's a trifling matter.Now, when the flood of noble books was outI raised o'er all that land a joyous shout,Till I was thought as mad as any hatter!
(Why hatters all are mad, I cannot say.'T were wrong in their affliction to revile 'em,But truly, you'll confess 'tis very sadWe wear the ugly things they make. Begad,They'd be less mischievous in an asylum!)
"Consistency, thou art a"--well, you're paste!When next I felt my demon in possession,And made the field of authorship a waste,All said of me: "What execrable taste,To rail at others of his own profession!"
Good Lord! where do the critic's rights beginWho has of literature some clear-cut notion,And hears a voice from Heaven say: "Pitch in"?He finds himself--alas, poor son of sin--Between the devil and the deep blue ocean!
Words in this poem
- shallowness n.
- Quality or state of being shallow.
- damned a.
- Sentenced to punishment in a future state; condemned; consigned to perdition.
- hatter v. t.
- To tire or worry; -- out. [Prov. E., to entangle; cf. LG. verhaddern, verheddern, verhiddern.]
- asylum n.
- A sanctuary or place of refuge and protection, where criminals and debtors found shelter, and from which they could not be forcibly taken without sacrilege.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Dilemma is in the public domain. This text is taken from Shapes of Clay (1903), Project Gutenberg ebook #12658; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Ambrose Bierce, A Dilemma, in Shapes of Clay (1903), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #12658, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/bierce-shapes-of-clay/a-dilemma.html, id L28138.
Form and metre
A Dilemma is 40 lines in 8 stanzas of 5 lines each. The rhyme scheme is ABAAB, complete in 7 of its 8 stanzas. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%).
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABAAB menA · vergesB · penA · thenA · cursesB
- 2 ABAAB sneerA · analyticB · fearA · appearA · criticB
- 3 ABAAB tellA · learningB · wellA · fellA · turningB
- 4 ABAAB fairA · terrorB · swearA · thereA · errorB
- 5 ABAAB doubtA · matterB · outA · shoutA · hatterB
- 6 -A--A say · emA · sad · begad · asylumA
- 7 ABAAB pasteA · possessionB · wasteA · tasteA · professionB
- 8 ABAAB beginA · notionB · inA · sinA · oceanB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Filled with a zeal to serve my fellow men, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| For years I criticised their prose and verges: | 11 | ···/˘····/˘ |
| Pointed out all their blunders of the pen, | 10 | /˘···/˘··· |
| Their shallowness of thought and feeling; then | 10 | ·/˘˘···/˘· |
| Damned them up hill and down with hearty curses! | 11 | ·······/˘/˘ |
| They said: "That's all that he can do--just sneer, | 10 | ·········· |
| And pull to pieces and be analytic. | 11 | ···/˘···˘/˘ |
| Why doesn't he himself, eschewing fear, | 10 | ·/˘·˘/·/˘· |
| Publish a book or two, and so appear | 10 | /˘······˘/ |
| As one who has the right to be a critic? | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| "Let him who knows it all forbear to tell | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| How little others know, but show his learning." | 11 | ·/˘/˘····/˘ |
| The public added: "Who has written well | 10 | ·/˘/˘··/˘· |
| May censure freely"--quoting Pope. I fell | 10 | ·/˘/˘/˘··· |
| Into the trap and books began out-turning,-- | 11 | ······˘/·/˘ |
| Books by the score--fine prose and poems fair, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| And not a book of them but was a terror, | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| They were so great and perfect; though I swear | 10 | ·····˘/··· |
| I tried right hard to work in, here and there, | 10 | ·········· |
| (My nature still forbade) a fault or error. | 11 | ·/˘·˘/···/˘ |
| 'Tis true, some wretches, whom I'd scratched, no doubt, | 10 | ·········· |
| Professed to find--but that's a trifling matter. | 11 | ˘/·····/˘/˘ |
| Now, when the flood of noble books was out | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| I raised o'er all that land a joyous shout, | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Till I was thought as mad as any hatter! | 11 | ·······/˘/˘ |
| (Why hatters all are mad, I cannot say. | 10 | ·/˘····/˘· |
| 'T were wrong in their affliction to revile 'em, | 12 | ·····˘/˘·˘/· |
| But truly, you'll confess 'tis very sad | 10 | ·/˘·˘/·/˘· |
| We wear the ugly things they make. Begad, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| They'd be less mischievous in an asylum!) | 11 | ···/˘˘··˘/˘ |
| "Consistency, thou art a"--well, you're paste! | 10 | ˘/˘˘······ |
| When next I felt my demon in possession, | 11 | ·····/˘·˘/˘ |
| And made the field of authorship a waste, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| All said of me: "What execrable taste, | 10 | ······/˘˘· |
| To rail at others of his own profession!" | 11 | ···/˘···˘/˘ |
| Good Lord! where do the critic's rights begin | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| Who has of literature some clear-cut notion, | 11 | ···/˘˘···/˘ |
| And hears a voice from Heaven say: "Pitch in"? | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| He finds himself--alas, poor son of sin-- | 10 | ··˘/˘/···· |
| Between the devil and the deep blue ocean! | 11 | ···/˘····/˘ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.