EGL 204-4 March 5, 2004
Contemplating “digging”
Seamus Heaney’s 1966 poem, “Digging” (713) gives offers a view not only of the narrator’s life, but of the lives of the generations that preceded him. This poem is an homage to the lives of his parents, their parents, and their parents, as long as this family has been farming. He respects and admires the work they have done to earn their sustenance, yet he is keenly aware that this is not the way he needs to earn his own. Their work is physical, wresting a living directly from the earth, his is of the mind. He is grateful to those who have worked with their bodies so that he might work with his mind. Yet all the knowing in the world does not make the decision to leave any easier.
Heaney’s choosing a gun as a metaphor for his pen in the second line of the first stanza speaks metaphorically about the pain his leaving will inflict on his family and himself. It brings to mind the ancient saying about the pen being mightier than the sword, and then goes beyond that to the pen as an actual weapon. The pen is described in that same line as “squat,” not the description most often associated with pens, which are more likely to be characterized as long, lithe, slender, and creating the lines that give form to our language on paper. Heaney is likening the pen to the compact shape of a gun, and it’s inherent power, and to the compact and forceful people from whom he is descended, and whom he is leaving.
As the narrator looks out his window in the second stanza, he sees his father “digging” and falls into a reverie that leads into stanza three about how his family has been faming potatoes as long as he can remember. From his comfortable seat at his writing desk, with its view of the potato fields, the narrator drifts into memory, admiring his father’s handiwork, and recalling his father before him. “By God, the old man could handle a spade. Just like his old man” (15-16).
Now the narrator is recalling his childhood admiration for his grandfather’s prowess with the shovel. “My grandfather cut more turf in a day/Than any other man in Toner’s bog” (17-18). This is the boast of a child. The reader can hear the sound of the spade cutting into the turf and smell the peaty scent of newly turned earth wafting into the window. And one can sense the pride; both remembered and experienced in the moment.
Going back into his past, Heaney sees himself helping. He is part of the long chain of men who have worked this land, and he is proud of his ability to help even in a small way. The sense a child has of being part of something on-going and essential is clear in the sixth stanza. “Once I carried him milk in a bottle/Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up/To drink it, then fell to right away” (19-21). Here Heaney is part of the landscape from which his grandfather is carving their life. He is an essential link in the family chain.
The image of the young child, toddling across the fields to deliver his package, is clear and comfortable. The glass bottle is a fragile treasure, entrusted to him by his mother. The paper stopper to keep the milk from spilling en route is a temporary measure that would not have lasted longer than this brief errand. Readers can easily identify similar moments of helpfulness in their own childhoods and recall that feeling of pride and importance. The youngster who was our narrator watches his grandfather stop what he’s doing, receive this childish gift, and then get back to work. This is the lesson Heaney’s growing up taught; work hard, and don’t stop until the job is done.
The mature narrator recalls these childhood feelings with warmth and affection. He continues to admire his grandfather, although the man himself may be dead or too old and frail to work that way anymore. And he continues to admire his father, who is carrying on the back-breaking business of their family, even as the narrator indulges in woolgathering up in his study. One gets the feeling that he is aware of his privileged position, and has the good grace to be grateful.
Heaney’s determination to carry the solid work ethic of his farming family into his chosen profession comes through toward the end of the poem. He brings the reader back into the present when, after describing the way his grandfather cut the “soggy peat” (26), he compares that physical slicing of earth to his memories, “living roots awaken in my head” (27). Then he reminds himself, and the reader, that he has chosen another route. “But I’ve no spade to follow men like them” (28). He is not made for digging with a shovel in the earth to earn his living. His dreams require him to leave the comfort of the familiar and do something different with his life.
Yet he remains committed to living up to their example. In the last three lines, the narrator explains how he will honor the difficult and tiring physical labor of his forebears in his own work. “Between my finger and my thumb/The squat pen rests./I’ll dig with it.” He will use his pen as a spade, scraping away unnecessary verbiage, digging down to uncover truth and beauty. His father and grandfather used last year’s potatoes to plant this year’s crop; he will use his memories to create poems and stories that honor his heritage. And he will store them on paper for everyone to share today, and in the future.
Works Cited
Heaney, Seamus. “Digging.” An
Introduction to Literature. Ed. Sylvan, Barnet et al. 13th ed.