There are fifteen poems in the GCSE Power & Conflict anthology.

For your exam, you will be given one poem in full, printed on the page, and you will be asked to compare this poem to another from the anthology.

All of the GCSE English Literature course is closed-book, meaning that you will need to learn at least three lines from each poem.

It is possible to get top marks for this question by making sure that you know the following:

• What the poem is about

• What the poem means

• The methods the poet uses to convey their message

• The links between the ideas of other poems in the anthology

Synposis

Whatever the question is, it is important that you understand what the poem is about. This will support you in adapting your argument to fit the focus of the question. This section includes:

• A general overview of the poem

• A detailed look at the poem line-by-line

• Analysis of the poem, giving Seamus Heaney’s intention and message

A General Overview of the Poem

Storm on the Island explores the impact of recurring natural disasters on an insular island community, with possible allegorical links to The Troubles in Northern Ireland. The speaker, an inhabitant of the island, details the sensory experience of storms for those under their attack. The poem reflects on the violence and impassivity of nature, in direct contradiction of nature-as-ally traditions in literature, especially poetry.

Line-by-Line

We are prepared: we build our houses squat,

Sink walls in rock and roof them with good slate.

The poem opens with direct engagement with the “Storm” from the title, referencing the “prepar[ation]” that comes from a habitual event such as this. Instead of preparing as a progressive aspect verb, the speaker is “prepared” as an adjective, indicating that this is a state of being for those on the island. Indeed, the preparations are neither reactive nor short-term; they built their “squat”, “[s]ink[ing] walls in rock and roof[ing] them with good slate”, long before this storm. It is their default position: expecting attack.

The use of the collective pronoun “we”, used twice in the first line alone (and several times near the end of the poem, along with “us” on a number of occasions) creates a sense of unity between the inhabitants of this unnamed island, a unity not shared between these humans and the natural world – as we will see.

This wizened earth has never troubled us

With hay, so, as you see, there are no stacks

Or stooks that can be lost. Nor are there trees

Which might prove company when it blows full

In this section of the poem, there are two indications that nature is not on the side of the islanders. First, the “earth has never [provided] hay”, meaning that it is not the provider; then, the “trees” are absent, not “prov[ing] company”. But, it goes deeper than that, thanks to the enjambing lines. We are presented with the apparently harmonious observation that “[t]his wizened earth has never troubled us”, before the next line subverts the meaning with “[w]ith hay” – not only offering a cynical criticism of the earth’s prosperity but also undermining the suggestion that earth hasn’t troubled them before.

The anthropomorphic use of the verb “troubled” on the part of the “wizened earth” and the prospective idea that trees could be “company” personify nature, but not as a friend. Not as a foe, yet, either, but still! 

when it blows full

Blast: you know what I mean — leaves and branches

Can raise a tragic chorus in a gale

So that you listen to the thing you fear

Forgetting that it pummels your house too.

This next section continues to position nature at odds with its familiar conception as a force for good. Whilst trees in the wind can sing a “chorus” that “you listen to” to “[f]orge[t]” reality, that chorus is “tragic”, a “thing you fear”, that “pummels your house”. The language is decidedly emotive; nature is merciless – as established by the abrupt “Blast” onomatopoeia, enjambed from the previous line.

The repeated direct address in this section, “you” (three times) and “your”, creates a sense of shared experience; the fellow residents of the island are being called upon to relate, transfigured into the readers of the poem who get to share in this intense experience.

But there are no trees, no natural shelter.

You might think that the sea is company,

Exploding comfortably down on the cliffs 

We are reminded that the previous section was a hypothetical tangent, for there “are no trees” to bear the brunt of the wind; it is the experience of the residents alone. This sentence stands alone, undoing the work of the previous sentence, reframing once again the unpredictable and unknowable storm from the perspective of its victims.

Another hypothetical is set up, this time deliberately tapping into expectations: “You might think”. The word “company” is used once more for a feature of nature, this time “the sea”. Before the inevitable contradiction now expected, there is a hint dropped in the tonal dissonance of the oxymoronic “Exploding comfortably”. Perhaps we should expect that the ‘comfort’ of the personified sea is indicative of malevolence. It is foe, not friend.

But no: when it begins, the flung spray hits

The very windows, spits like a tame cat

Turned savage. We just sit tight while wind dives 

As predicted, there is a contradiction to start this section: “But no”. The colon that follows indicates that a reason will follow immediately, which it does. The sea, now in its constituent forms (“flung spray”), is now characterised by violent verbs (“hits” and “spits”) underpinned by zoomorphic simile “like a [...] cat”. Paradoxically the cat is premodified by the adjective “tame”, but this is immediately undermined by the enjambed “Turned savage” – another piece of imagery that reinforces the unpredictability of the situation and the surprising unfriendliness of nature.

Returning once more to the islanders themselves, we learn that they “just” accept it: “sit[ting] tight while wind dives”. Throughout, they are passive (their architectural design from the opening sentence is a bygone; they can “listen” and “forget” but not act), and now they “sit” – the adverbial “just” reinforcing its futility. This is learned helplessness, because in the context of unpredictable savagery all around, it is the only thing to do – whether a storm or an ongoing civil war of sorts.

And strafes invisibly. Space is a salvo,

We are bombarded by the empty air.

Strange, it is a huge nothing that we fear.

In the final section, the adverb “invisibly”, adjective “empty” and abstract noun “nothing” combine to remind us that it is an intangible force that concerns them: the threat of violence, or an unknown enemy enacting it. Despite the military language of “strafes” and “salvo”, and the violent verb choice of “bombarded”, what is “Strange” to the speaker is how unreal and detached the entire experience is. Once again, the word “fear” rather than actual conflict is what is experienced.

The entire poem is told in the simple present tense; it is not occurring right now but habitually, i.e. over and over again, whenever it chooses. The islanders live in wary anticipation of the storm at all times.

Writer’s Methods

This section aims to support your revision by providing you with concrete and clear examples of methods that Seamus Heaney uses. 

Remember: methods support meaning, not the other way round. You will gain more marks focusing your essays on the big ideas of the poems and then supporting these ideas with the methods that the writer uses.

Form

The poem is one, 19-line, unbroken stanza. Its lines are unbroken sentences (that is, they run over multiple lines: enjambement) but they are nevertheless a uniform length and initially capitalised. As such, the writing is largely prosaic (meaning prose-like), suiting the chaotic and confusing nature of the storm for the islanders; it reads like someone rambling. It is almost entirely rhymeless and without meter, with the free verse form serving to heighten the verisimilitude of the expression. It feels authentic, barely elevated above prose except in its richness of imagery.

Structure

The poem is removed from time, inasmuch as the storm that is described is any storm that would trouble the islanders. Consequently, its present tense is at odds with the free manipulation of timeframes: the poem starts with the past, when the islanders prepared for storms in their architectural design; then, it moves through various reflections on the role of nature (haystacks, trees, the sea, the wind) as antagonist rather than ally during an indeterminable number of storms; finally, it concludes with the islanders’ habitual tolerance of the storm’s ways.

Language

Throughout, we find references to nature as a hoped ally (abstract nouns like “company” and “shelter”) turned enemy (violent verbs like “pummels” and “spits”). The expectation versus reality taps into the poetic tradition established by the Romantics of worshipping and praising nature, challenging it and imbuing it with something more threatening and powerful. Indeed, the semantic field of pugnacity and militance (“Blast”, “hits”, “strafes”, “salvo”, “bombarded” and “fear”) makes this more than an awed reverence of nature. Finally, the abundance of the collective “we” and “us” pronouns shows the human unity required against nature’s violent whims; indeed, the use of “you” and “I” is only ever used to reaffirm rapport between the speaker and fellow islanders: “you know what I mean”.

Context

At MyEdSpace, we use this analogy to discuss context – ketchup, salt and chips.

If you ordered a portion of chips, and asked for salt, you wouldn’t then dump the salt into the corner of your chips and start dipping each individual chip into the salt. 

When you put salt on your chips, you sprinkle it over, sparingly, so as to give a good coverage of salt across the chips as a whole. Context is just like salt on chips. 

Context is not ketchup – because it would be appropriate to squeeze ketchup into the corner of your plate and dip each chip in (and in fact, that is advised).

So when you’re including contextual information in your essays, sprinkle it across the essay, just like you sprinkle salt on your chips.

Let’s link the context to the key ideas and themes of the poem.

Biographical Insight

Seamus Heaney grew up in rural Northern Ireland and considered himself a “naturalist” as a child, and an explorer of the human condition more than a political poet as he grew up, despite the majority of his adult life being cast against the backdrop of The Troubles, and his own strong national identity (he rejected the poet Laureate position, stating that his “passport’s green”).

The Troubles

Whilst many have tried to make this poem an allegory for The Troubles (the constant unseen threat of violence, the title’s subtle orthographical and phonological inclusion of ‘Stormont, Ireland’), it is much more preoccupied with rural life, community, and isolation – and especially the complex relationship between humans and nature already abundant in his other works (e.g. Death of a Naturalist).

Comparison

You are required to write an essay in your exam that is a comparison of the ideas and themes explored in two poems from the Power & Conflict anthology. Therefore, it is very important to revise the poems in pairs and to enter the exam with an idea of what poem you will choose to compare once you know what the named poem is.

Storm on the Island and Exposure

Both poems explore the impact of a merciless natural force on humans forced to reckon with it: islanders in a storm and soldiers in warfare. Both poems tap into audience expectation and its incompatibility with reality. However, Storm on the Island focuses on the everyday quiet readiness for conflict experienced by those in a danger zone, whilst Exposure focuses on the immediacy of that danger.

Similarity:

Both poems depict nature as an antagonistic force.

Evidence and Analysis 

Heaney’s poem presents an island habitually ransacked by stormy weather that seems wilful in its destructive endeavours. The speaker chooses emotive adjectives to characterise the storm’s myriad attacks: “full / Blast”, “tragic chorus”, “flung spray”, “savage [cat]”. The use of language clearly intended to characterise the storm in a negative fashion gives a clear impression of a force of nature that is positioned as an adversary to the islanders who lie in wait for it.

Owen’s poem conveys a relentless malevolent presence in nature that oppresses the soldiers in its personified form. He depicts the “iced east winds” as “merciless”, the “gusts” as “mad”, and the “air” as “deadly”. The use of adjectives that anthropomorphise the weather conditions as a volatile and pugnacious enemy creates an omnipresent source of threat and apprehension.

Difference:

The poets present different degrees of risk from the natural threat surrounding them.

Evidence and Analysis

Seamus Heaney’s speaker is prepared and relatively comfortable with the threat of storms.

In his poem, the speaker foregrounds the threat of the storm whilst simultaneously tempering it with language of calm. He diminishes the storm’s power with references to its “empt[iness]” and “nothing[ness]”, in contrast with the concreteness of the islanders’ preparations: “squat” houses, “[su]nk in rock”, roofed with “good slate”. As such, images like “a tame cat” and “comfortabl[e]” explosions make more sense; the threat is omnipresent and destructive but nevertheless inconsequential to the well-prepared inhabitants of the island.

Contrastingly, in Owen’s poem, the speaker makes it clear that the threat of nature is very real and grave.

In his poem, the soldiers are in real danger of death from the exposure they face in the open air. The winds “knive” them, the weather “[a]ttacks once more”, and the frost overnight will “fasten [on them], / Shrivelling many hands, and puckering foreheads crisp”. The violence and genuine danger posed by the verb choices inculpate the weather in genuinely deadly and violent crimes against the soldiers.