HOW TO WRITE POETRY

#2 - HOW TO WRITE A VILLANELLE

A lot of poets say that the villanelle is really difficult to write, but it isn’t.

It is also a very useful kind of poem when you have a couple of things you want to say more than once or, to be exact, four times, although you can say some things to some people an infinite number of times and they won’t take it in. (I am thinking of you as I write this, Celia.)

The villanelle has five stanzas (or verses) of three lines (what poets call tercets when they want to sound clever) followed by a single stanza of four lines (which is a quatrain). It comes to a grand total of 19 lines.

I realise some of you may think 19 lines is a bit long, but it's actually not because, if you think about it, 2 of the lines are each used 4 times, so in effect you get 8 lines for the price of 2 (it’s like being in a poetry supermarket!) and actually there are only 13 “new” lines, one fewer than in the sonnet.

The lines you repeat are used in a set pattern: the first line of the first stanza is used as the last line of the second and fourth stanzas, and the third line of the first stanza is used as the last line of the third and fifth stanzas. The last stanza ends with the two repeated lines. This sounds a bit complicated but you will get the picture as we go along. Come, take my imaginary hand.

The first thing you need to do (it might be the second thing if you have a stiff drink at your elbow) is figure out the couple of things you want to say more than once, and then say them. Another one of the good things about the villanelle is that you don’t have to count syllables or worry about iambic or any other kind of feet or that sort of stuff, unlike in the sonnet. You can if you want to, but you don’t have to. Some people count syllables in their sleep, but that’s quite sad, and it’s also a recognised medical condition. I think you can get treatment for it on the NHS if you’re a UK resident.

Anyway, the two things I’m itching to say, and which will be the lines I repeat, are

Since you left I’ve been absolutely fine

and

That “Best of Phil Collins” CD you have is mine

So these will be the first and third lines of my first “tercet”, and the observant among you will have already noted that they rhyme.

To make the tercet (or stanza, or verse) I need a third line to stick in between those two, and I have one, and so this is my first tercet:

Since you left I’ve been absolutely fine,

And I have something else I want to say:

That “Best of Phil Collins” CD you have is mine.

In the second stanza (I’m not going to call it a tercet any more; it’s too poncy) the last (or third) line is the same as the first line of the first one, and the first line of this stanza has to rhyme with the first line of the first one and the third line of this one i.e. with both, because they are the same. The second line of this one, between the first and the third, has to rhyme with the second line of the first stanza. Clear as mud, huh? Think of the pattern like this:

(line ending in the “ine” sound)

(line ending in the “ay” sound)

Since you left I’ve been absolutely fine.

Finding rhymes is sometimes tricky but it’s not that tricky, and here is what I did:

I have not slumped into a terminal decline

And Celia, I welcome each new sunshiny day.

Since you left I’ve been absolutely fine.

In the third stanza, the last line has to be the same as the last line of the first one, and of course the first line of this one has to rhyme with that one, and the second line has to rhyme with the second line of the previous ones. Whew! By the way, I know I’ve been saying “one” a lot, and I should maybe rewrite it a bit, but I won’t. Anyway, it’s like this:

(line ending in the “ine” sound)

(line ending in the “ay” sound)

That “Best of Phil Collins” CD is mine.

Here it is with all the words put in:

It may be that you think I have no spine

But you’re wrong, and the truth is here to stay:

That “Best of Phil Collins” CD you have is mine.

The sharp-eyed reader will have seen there’s no rule against slightly ‘tweaking’ your repeated lines if you want to. The poetry police will not come and punish you, and a little bit of tweaking shows you are not one of those people who stick so rigidly to the rules as to be dull and boring.

You might think this is getting tedious now, because we still have about half the poem to go, but stick with it. Success in the world of poetry is not just about sucking up to people with influence. Sometimes you have to do a bit of hard work, albeit it’s not what most people with real jobs would call hard work.

So, here comes the fourth stanza, which will be in this pattern, with the last line being the one we kicked off with ten minutes ago:

(line ending in the “ine” sound)

(line ending in the “ay” sound)

Since you left I’ve been absolutely fine.

And here it is, with the words:

Celia, I have never been the sort to whine,

And this is what I simply have to convey:

Since you left I’ve been absolutely fine.

I think by now you will have got the drift. Like I said, the villanelle is a good form because you can say things more than once and in that way Celia will have no excuse for not getting the message (if she reads the poem).

We have one more 3-line stanza to go. Here is the pattern, with the last line being the same (give or take) as the last line of the one we started with:

(line ending in the “ine” sound)

(line ending in the “ay” sound)

That “Best of Phil Collins” CD is mine.

And so, filled in, we get:

As I crack open another bottle of wine

The absence of that record causes me dismay

Celia, that “Best of Phil Collins” CD is mine.

As you can see, this is the third time we have reminded Celia about the CD. It’s a really good record and captures Phil at his best, as it says in the title, and I want it back.

You will be pleased to know we have now finished with the 3-line stanzas and it’s time to round off the whole thing with the 4 line “quatrain”, the last two lines of which will be the lines we have been repeating. Here is mine:

It is not in my nature to weakly repine

And every day I go out with my friends to play.

Since you left I’ve been absolutely bloody fine,

And Celia, that “Best of Phil Collins” CD is mine.

10.

And here is the finished villanelle:

Since you left I’ve been absolutely fine,

And I have something else I want to say:

That “Best of Phil Collins” CD you have is mine.

I have not slumped into a terminal decline

And Celia, I welcome each new sunshiny day.

Since you left I’ve been absolutely fine.

It may be that you think I have no spine

But you’re wrong, and the truth is here to stay:

That “Best of Phil Collins” CD you have is mine.

Celia, I have never been the sort to whine,

And this is what I simply have to convey:

Since you left I’ve been absolutely fine.

As I crack open another bottle of wine

The absence of that record causes me dismay

Celia, that “Best of Phil Collins” CD is mine.

It is not in my nature to weakly repine

And every day I go out with my friends to play.

Since you left I’ve been absolutely bloody fine,

And Celia, that “Best of Phil Collins” CD is mine.

As you can see, it’s pretty good, and only took about a quarter of an hour to put together, which proves that the villanelle is not as difficult as some people make out, as mentioned earlier.

11.

Of course, you have finally to choose a title. To be honest, sometimes it takes me longer to think up a good title than it does to write the poem. My tentative title for this one is “TO CELIA, PRINCESS OF THIEVES”. I might change it. I’m not keen on that “Princess” bit.

(This extremely useful guide to the villanelle can be downloaded as a PDF here.)