Hope

Written: October 27th, 2014.
Poem: Robert Shaw's "In the Rear-View Mirror" - Accessible here, page 4.

Life has given humanity only one guarantee: at some point in time, every individual will have to say goodbye to someone they love. Or so it would seem. In the poem, “In the Rear-View Mirror”, by Robert Shaw, the speaker presents the idea that, even though one is powerless to prevent people from leaving one’s life, they are never truly gone. The circularity and retrospective angle from which the poem is recited, the long, flowing sentence structure and diction of the poem, and the metaphor of a rear-view mirror come together to construct this idea. 


But abstract ideas must be represented by concrete objects if one is to understand them. Circles are the perfect representation of eternity. They never begin and never end; they simply keep going. This circularity reveals itself in the present work in a number of ways. For example, the opening line, “[t]hinking about them as you say them last” (1) and the closing line are nearly identical. This cannot be coincidental and suggests the speaker is trying to convey the idea that something about the people last seen does not go away, but continues on, just as circles continue on. Additionally, the fact that when the speaker “see[s] them standing there behind [his] back” (2) as he looks at the rear-view mirror is itself mirrored by the fact that he may once again “bring them back in view” (22) later on. Given that these lines occur at the beginning and ending of the poem, respectively, this is again not likely coincidental but rather a deliberate attempt to reflect the idea that the something alluded to earlier is the experience of seeing a person who is now gone. Though the physical person is no longer present, the experience of that person remains. As such, they are never really gone.  

Related to circularity is the retrospective structure of the poem. Though it is not told in the past tense, the entire poem is but a thought about the past. All of it is the speaker “thinking about [those he’s left] as [he] saw them last” (1). This is proof positive that the people in one’s life have never really left, because the speaker can relive the entire event of saying “goodbye” (3), from the waves to the car as it speeds away, to the empty road replacing them. Combined with the circular structure of the poem, the implication is that the this event of “thinking about them as [one] s[ee’s] them last” (1) goes on and on, so that those who have left, have not truly left, for they remain in the mind’s eye. 


Not only the structure of the poem as a whole, but even the form of individual sentences inform the message of the work. Each clause builds on the other, taking the reader in and demanding that he read on. This is a deliberate choice on the part of the speaker, for this long and flowing sentence structure represents the irresistible and inevitable flow of life. And just as each sentence contains deeper meaning, so too do the individual words. Each word comes together to explain what the flow of life consists of. First, as one goes “down the road” (20) of life, people “wave goodbye” (3). Second, they begin to “diminish” (5) as the distance between them grows until they are but “tiny” (7) figures, indistinguishable from “nameless people” (9); they are “too far away” (9) for their individual characteristics to be made out. Third, their places are taken by something else. Whether it be by “windbreak pines [or] a split rail fence” (11-12), something moves in to take their place. But these substitutes are only temporary. And finally, fourth, as one travels further along, even they fade away, leaving behind “nothing but empty road” (13). The flow of life, then, is the leaving behind of others. But a change of diction near the end of the poem suggests otherwise. For “fortunately…no matter how far down the road [one has] gone” (20), one may still “bring them back” (21) again, as “large” (21) and lively as they once were “standing…behind [one’s] back” (2). The listener is left with the implication that though people pass away, they leave something in those they come into contact with, something that allows them to be brought back into view long after they’re gone.  


How it is that one brings them back is another question. The answer is memory, which can be seen explicitly and implicitly. Explicitly, in the poem itself, a “higher-powered reflective instrument” (19) is said to be able to “bring…back in[to] view” (21) those one has left behind. The only “instrument” that could fit that description is one’s memory, for with memory, one may bring things of the past back into the gaze of the mind’s eye. Implicitly, the rear-view mirror is a metaphor for memory. For just as things distant in space impinge reflections of themselves into a rear-view mirror to be seen for a short while, such as people far behind a car as it drives away (6), so too do people and events distant in time impinge reflections of themselves on one’s memory, allowing one to see again those people and events, even if it is but a “picture” (22). In short, through memory, an image of those who have left one’s life continues on forever, so that one must never really say goodbye. 


Metaphorical rear-view mirrors, sentence structure and word choice, and circularity and retrospection interweave themselves throughout “In the Rear-View Mirror” to teach the listener that the people he or she interacts with in this life, though they must inevitably physically leave, are never really gone, for memory allows one access to them long after they’ve past. The question that remains, though, is whether this is enough. For as has been alluded to throughout, memories can only give us pictures and experiences of the people we’ve lost. But we did not fall in love with, we did not come to rely on, we did not come to know in any way pictures and experiences. We fell in love with, relied on, and came to know people. And it is the people that we so desperately miss. Memories can never really fill that void, that “empty road” (13). But if memories cannot fill it, perhaps hope can. For who’s to say that, once we reach the end of the road, we will not be with them again? And it is the hope of that, not memories, that drives us onward.

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