Thy Name is Duplicity” – is this an attempt to describe and even define “duplicity” (I’m not a poet and I really have no idea) or do these people really believe that they are “duping” or misleading the public, or even themselves? Or are they simply trying to be clever by turning something so ugly into a term of endearment? I don’t have any definitive evidence that this is what the two are saying, but it does look like an attempt to be clever in the hope of sounding cute. Anon @6:14, the poem does refer to being duped. It’s the “in this poem we say ‘duplicity’” portion that points out the deceptive nature of the word itself, not the final line. Otherwise, the poem says that we ought to stop duping others with all the deceit we try to pass off as love. As for the term’s origin, “duping” comes from Dutch dupe, which means “trick,” or “to be deceived.” The same root can be seen in “dupe,” “dope,” “duping,” and “dopey.” The word’s meaning has changed over time, as you can see by its use in other poems by Larkin. (To “go D.U.P. for a.T.M.,” for instance, means to go from one thing to another, and “put on D.U.P. a.T.M.” means to put on blinders or become so blinded as to be fooled.) Anon @6:14: “This looks like an attempt to make a clever word out of a potentially dirty one, or a cute joke.” I was going to say the same thing, but I really like the clever use of irony (and that they think so little of their words that they are willing to share them with readers). This post reminded me of George Eliot’s article, “The Poet in the Nursery.” She points out that her son, now a father and school teacher, has a number of children who are not particularly interested in poetry. She describes how she works with children to take words which are familiar to them, like sky, sun and moon, and gives them new and poetic words. As a mother and as a reader, I found this thought really interesting and I hope I don’t sound to dismissive in describing it as an attempt to “sugar coat” for other to like. […] A couple days ago, I was reading a post by Anne O’Donnell that was about the word “duplicity” being a term of endearment in a poem by Bob Larkin. The idea that someone could think that it was cute or in-funny was a little odd, because to my ear it didn’t come across as cute. (The fact that “duplicity” doesn’t normally sound cute to me doesn’t mean it never does, though, and I’m not accusing anyone here of misreading the line. I don’t feel that strongly about it, but then I’m an inveterate grouch who can’t stomach overly sweet things.) The poem is about betrayal. So perhaps we should be thinking about where the word “duplicity” is used in everyday life — “You are duplicitous,” “He is a duplicitous salesman” — and why we are surprised when we see it being used that way in a poetic context. Is there something about the nature of poetry that makes “duplicity” a fitting word to end a poem on? […] I have already gotten comments on my last post, in which I talked about the poem “They say love is the thing and love is a great big/ thing, but for me/ no; love is a small/ thing with enormous consequences.” My friend, who has a lot of experience teaching elementary school kids, said she thought the lines were too awkward. (It has since occurred to me that it might be that they are too difficult for her younger students.) “I have thought that poetry should be useful as well as beautiful.” It should, I would argue. And as a lover of poetry who is also a devoted teacher, I agree with Anne O’Donnell’s comments about how the use of poetic vocabulary and phrases can help children to think about the world in a more meaningful way. But then I think about other poems I have taught over the years, like “The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner” and “Dulce et Decorum est” and “Invictus.” And in those poems, the metaphorical language used is almost impossible to understand in its original form, which makes sense from a thematic point of view. It’s not always the case that the meaning of metaphorical language in poetry is so transparent that a child can be instructed to read one poem and apply it elsewhere. There’s something about the way the metaphor functions in the poem — it’s intended to function as a bridge between the world the speaker knows and the world he or she is unfamiliar with — that gives the metaphor depth of meaning. There may be something that is confusing or even disturbing about a metaphor to a child, as there may be something confusing or even disturbing about the very idea of war for a child. I’m not saying that all metaphor is lost on a child, just that these lines about love aren’t going to mean much more to a 9-year-old student of mine than “You say the word love and it means/ good stuff, but for me, the word love means/ death or bad stuff.” I don’t have a good answer for how to handle it. That’s why I’m interested in hearing other people’s ideas about what exactly to do when you meet something like “a small thing with enormous consequences.” I see some questions as similar, but not identical. Both can be good questions (like the ones in my comment). I agree that we should be careful when comparing poems to children, because it would be ridiculous to say that a poem is “too awkward” when it’s something that adults have a hard time understanding. That said, I can see how the lines in question could have been a little confusing or unsettling for a child. I wonder if a lot of what I mean by that could be explained by the fact that they were dealing with the theme of love and betrayal, and love always feels personal and important (or, as Robert Frost might have said, “true love is that particular case of love”). The only issue of the first stanza is the use of “consequence.” The rest of the stanza is about different ways that love can be important in a person’s life — love as a way of thinking about the world, love as an experience that can leave a feeling of wonder and mystery, etc. The idea that the use of words like “duplicity” in a poem might be more complicated than it is in everyday speech (as you can see in the comments for your post about “they say love is the thing”) might apply to love because it is such a personal and seemingly universal thing, even though it is a complicated and confusing thing. As for the second stanza, as others have said, the lines aren’t particularly beautiful. The meaning of the last three words in the second line is especially weird. And then the line about “things with enormous consequences” is so confusing (in part because it is difficult to determine which of the words is acting as subject and which as object) that it’s hard for me to grasp what the author means. All I can imagine is some sort of awkward image involving a child being caught by a machine. This sort of image seems out of place when one is talking about love, which is often a personal, emotional experience rather than something that causes damage and destruction. I think my issue with the poem (especially as a poet) is the use of the word “duplicity,” because I find that to be fairly pretentious. It’s funny that people are so afraid to use it that they’ve turned it into a clever phrase, and made it a cute word to apply to the act of having a good time. “She is duplicitous,” and “she is duplicity incarnate” were used on SNL a while ago, but that’s a TV show. […] I was wondering whether or not there is a “right” way to write. If there is a right way, where does it come from? How did it originate? Or does the fact that we agree on a “right” way also imply that we’ve missed the “right” way? […]. In response to the comment by #4 who said that “It’s nice to see people’s take on it, and some great examples of it, and hopefully it will be inspiring to other writers, but I really hope no one gets the impression that there is a right way to write or a “correct” way to express yourself. It can, indeed, be dangerous to write in a certain way, since an audience’s idea of “correct” can change.” I would like to argue that, for some people, writing poetry in a “certain way” is the first step toward creative writing, and the most important. It is this kind of writing that develops writers’ skills. I’m not saying that it’s the only way. What I am saying is that there is a difference between having a style and thinking that style is