• Re: My Father's House / gjd (for new comments)

    From Michael Pendragon@3:633/10 to All on Tue Jul 28 19:43:51 2026

    George J. Dance@novabbs.com (George J. Dance) posted:

    On Tue, 4 Feb 2025 11:29:25 +0000, W.Dockery wrote:

    George J. Dance wrote:

    My Father's House

    This is my father's house, although
    The man died thirteen years ago.
    They said it would be quite all right
    To take a drive to see it now.

    Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
    And built the whole thing (from a box),
    Toiling after each full day's work.
    I helped, though I was only six.

    Look, here's the back door I would use
    And here's where I'd remove my shoes
    To enter; there I'd leave my things
    And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.

    In this room I'd wash many a dish,
    Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
    To be so many other places.
    (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)

    Outside, the garden that he grew
    Where I would work the summers through,
    While watching my friends run and play
    Mysterious games I never knew.

    That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
    The one chair I was let to sit?
    (For boys can be such filthy things.)
    Which, the corner where boys were put?

    Oh ... down that hall there is a room
    Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
    After the meal, to make no noise,
    To read or play alone, and then

    Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
    Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
    Face and pyjama bottoms down
    As for my father's belt I'd wait.

    Oh, if I were a millionaire
    I'd buy my father's house, and there
    I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
    Its flames would light up all the air.

    ~~
    George J. Dance
    from Logos and other logoi, 2021

    Here it is, MFH.

    Thank you for reposting this poem of mine, Will. While it's true that it
    has been discussed a lot over the years, it also true that at least one person wants to discuss it now; and this would be the appropriate place
    to move those comments, rather than leaving them scattered all over the group. So let's start with this one:

    On Mon, 3 Feb 2025 16:15:27 +0000, Michael Monkey Peabrain (MPP) aka "HarryLime" wrote:
    On Mon, 3 Feb 2025 13:06:00 +0000, George J. Dance wrote:
    Why do you lie so much, George?
    (That's a rhetorical question, as you've already intimated that your
    pathological lying stems from you having been abused as a child.)

    No, Lying Michael: I have never said, or even "intimated" (!) that I was >> pathological, lying, or
    "abused as a child".

    You wrote a "mostly autobiographical" poem detailing the abuses you suffered as a child, George. And you're demonstrating your pathological obsession with lying in your trio of denials, listed above.
    https://www.novabbs.com/arts/article.php?id=15801&group=rec.arts.poems

    HarryLiar has manufactured yet another fake quote; I have never called
    this poem "mostly autobiographical" or autobiographical in many ways. I
    have distinctly told him in the past that, while some of the speaker's memories were based on my own childhood experiences, not all of them
    were; I was using them in a work of creative fiction, not an
    autobiography of any kind. So he lied and made up a fake quote to
    support his lie.

    The poem is meant to be a dramatic monolgue, in the style of Browning
    (His "My Last Duchess" is a good example), meant to get inside the
    psychology of a speaker or persona. The speaker may have experienced
    his childhood as "abuse" - HarryLiar calls it that but the speaker
    doesn't. The memories of it, though, have stayed on his mind, and he
    wants to get rid of those memories (symbolized by burning down the house
    at the end).

    It's deliberately left to the reader to decide if the speaker actually
    had been abused by his father or not. I did structure it, for effect,
    from the least to the most abusive-seeming experiences; from having to
    use a back door and remove his shoes to enter the house, to doing
    household chores, to doing garden work in the summertime, to not being allowed to use some of the furniture, to having to stay inside alone at
    night and be in bed early, to being subjected to corporal punishment.
    Adding them together like that, it's easy enough to conclude that the
    father had been abusive; but I'll point out that all of those events
    were things children commonly experienced 50-60 years ago, and that none
    of them were commonly considered abusive.

    Here's a psychoanalytic analysis by George's trusted source and only friend:

    Assuming "My Father's House" is a direct reflection of George J. Dance?s lived childhood, the poem offers a profound, heartbreaking window into psychological survival, delayed trauma processing, and the complex architecture of an abused mind.

    Analyzing the poet through the lens of this text reveals several key psychological dimensions:

    1. Compartmentalization and Spatial Dissociation
    The Split Home: For the young speaker, the house is split into two entirely different psychological realities. There is the functional, sunlit world of chores, foundation blocks, and shoe-removal, contrasted sharply with the hidden geography of dread?the corner of punishment, the hallway, and the bedroom.

    Dissociative Coping: The mechanism of dissociation is evident in how the speaker catalogs mundane physical details ("wash many a dish," "remove my shoes") as a protective shield against the impending threat. By focusing intensely on trivial mechanics, the child could temporarily detach from emotional or physical terror.

    2. Internalized Shame and Self-Policing
    Absorbing the Abuser?s Logic: Psychological abuse and physical violence often force a child to internalize the perpetrator's worldview to make sense of their suffering. This is starkly captured in the parenthetical rationalizations: "(Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)" and "(For boys can be such filthy things.)"

    Self-Blame: Instead of recognizing the father's behavior as monstrous, the child adopts the narrative that he is the problem?defective, dirty, or overly sensitive?thereby converting fear of the father into self-loathing. This is a classic survival tactic: believing your environment is dangerous because you are bad is psychologically safer than accepting that the adult meant to protect you is unsafe.

    3. Anticipatory Anxiety and Hypervigilance
    The Living Nightmare of Predictable Trauma: The stanza detailing the bedtime routine ("Lights out: in bed by nine each night / Some nights wanting to pee with fright... As for my father's belt I'd wait") depicts a state of chronic hypervigilance.

    Trauma Time: The use of the word "wait" highlights a special kind of psychological torture?anticipatory dread. The trauma is not just the physical pain of the belt, but the agonizing, powerless hours spent listening for footsteps, knowing what is coming, and being entirely trapped in a body paralyzed by fear.

    4. Delayed Processing and Adult Reckoning
    The Thirteen-Year Gap: The poem opens with the realization that the father has been dead for thirteen years, yet the psychological grip of the house remains intact. This points to a lifetime of repressed or managed trauma that the poet is only now confronting with adult eyes.

    The Fantasy of Total Destruction: The concluding impulse?to buy the house only to burn it to the ground?reveals a deep psychological need for cathartic closure and symbolic purification. In psychoanalytic terms, the house represents an internalized monument to the father that continues to occupy space in the poet?s psyche. Building a bonfire so high "its flames would light up all the air" is an unconscious desire to incinerate the past entirely, to render the trauma visible to the whole world, and to reclaim agency through total, cleansing destruction.

    --- PyGate Linux v1.5.19
    * Origin: Dragon's Lair, PyGate NNTP<>Fido Gate (3:633/10)
  • From Cujo DeSockpuppet@3:633/10 to All on Tue Jul 28 21:32:49 2026
    Michael Pendragon <user17124@newsgrouper.org.invalid> wrote in news:1785267831-17124@newsgrouper.org:


    George J. Dance@novabbs.com (George J. Dance) posted:

    On Tue, 4 Feb 2025 11:29:25 +0000, W.Dockery wrote:

    George J. Dance wrote:

    My Father's House

    This is my father's house, although
    The man died thirteen years ago.
    They said it would be quite all right
    To take a drive to see it now.

    Dad laid those grey foundation blocks
    And built the whole thing (from a box),
    Toiling after each full day's work.
    I helped, though I was only six.

    Look, here's the back door I would use
    And here's where I'd remove my shoes
    To enter; there I'd leave my things
    And, when allowed, climb up these stairs.

    In this room I'd wash many a dish,
    Gaze out this window, and I'd wish
    To be so many other places.
    (Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)

    Outside, the garden that he grew
    Where I would work the summers through,
    While watching my friends run and play
    Mysterious games I never knew.

    That room's all changed; oh, where is it,
    The one chair I was let to sit?
    (For boys can be such filthy things.)
    Which, the corner where boys were put?

    Oh ... down that hall there is a room
    Where I'd be shut (as in a tomb)
    After the meal, to make no noise,
    To read or play alone, and then

    Lights out: in bed by nine each night,
    Some nights wanting to pee with fright,
    Face and pyjama bottoms down
    As for my father's belt I'd wait.

    Oh, if I were a millionaire
    I'd buy my father's house, and there
    I'd build a bonfire, oh so high
    Its flames would light up all the air.

    ~~
    George J. Dance
    from Logos and other logoi, 2021

    Here it is, MFH.

    Thank you for reposting this poem of mine, Will. While it's true that
    it has been discussed a lot over the years, it also true that at
    least one person wants to discuss it now; and this would be the
    appropriate place to move those comments, rather than leaving them
    scattered all over the group. So let's start with this one:

    On Mon, 3 Feb 2025 16:15:27 +0000, Michael Monkey Peabrain (MPP) aka
    "HarryLime" wrote:
    On Mon, 3 Feb 2025 13:06:00 +0000, George J. Dance wrote:
    Why do you lie so much, George?
    (That's a rhetorical question, as you've already intimated that
    your pathological lying stems from you having been abused as a
    child.)

    No, Lying Michael: I have never said, or even "intimated" (!) that
    I was pathological, lying, or
    "abused as a child".

    You wrote a "mostly autobiographical" poem detailing the abuses you
    suffered as a child, George. And you're demonstrating your
    pathological obsession with lying in your trio of denials, listed
    above.
    https://www.novabbs.com/arts/article.php?id=15801&group=rec.arts.poems

    HarryLiar has manufactured yet another fake quote; I have never
    called this poem "mostly autobiographical" or autobiographical in
    many ways. I have distinctly told him in the past that, while some of
    the speaker's memories were based on my own childhood experiences,
    not all of them were; I was using them in a work of creative fiction,
    not an autobiography of any kind. So he lied and made up a fake quote
    to support his lie.

    The poem is meant to be a dramatic monolgue, in the style of Browning
    (His "My Last Duchess" is a good example), meant to get inside the
    psychology of a speaker or persona. The speaker may have experienced
    his childhood as "abuse" - HarryLiar calls it that but the speaker
    doesn't. The memories of it, though, have stayed on his mind, and he
    wants to get rid of those memories (symbolized by burning down the
    house at the end).

    It's deliberately left to the reader to decide if the speaker
    actually had been abused by his father or not. I did structure it,
    for effect, from the least to the most abusive-seeming experiences;
    from having to use a back door and remove his shoes to enter the
    house, to doing household chores, to doing garden work in the
    summertime, to not being allowed to use some of the furniture, to
    having to stay inside alone at night and be in bed early, to being
    subjected to corporal punishment. Adding them together like that,
    it's easy enough to conclude that the father had been abusive; but
    I'll point out that all of those events were things children commonly
    experienced 50-60 years ago, and that none of them were commonly
    considered abusive.

    Here's a psychoanalytic analysis by George's trusted source and only
    friend:

    Assuming "My Father's House" is a direct reflection of George J.
    Dance?s lived childhood, the poem offers a profound, heartbreaking
    window into psychological survival, delayed trauma processing, and the complex architecture of an abused mind.

    Analyzing the poet through the lens of this text reveals several key psychological dimensions:

    1. Compartmentalization and Spatial Dissociation
    The Split Home: For the young speaker, the house is split into two
    entirely different psychological realities. There is the functional,
    sunlit world of chores, foundation blocks, and shoe-removal,
    contrasted sharply with the hidden geography of dread?the corner of punishment, the hallway, and the bedroom.

    Dissociative Coping: The mechanism of dissociation is evident in how
    the speaker catalogs mundane physical details ("wash many a dish,"
    "remove my shoes") as a protective shield against the impending
    threat. By focusing intensely on trivial mechanics, the child could temporarily detach from emotional or physical terror.

    2. Internalized Shame and Self-Policing
    Absorbing the Abuser?s Logic: Psychological abuse and physical
    violence often force a child to internalize the perpetrator's
    worldview to make sense of their suffering. This is starkly captured
    in the parenthetical rationalizations: "(Wishy-washy? Oh, I guess!)"
    and "(For boys can be such filthy things.)"

    Self-Blame: Instead of recognizing the father's behavior as monstrous,
    the child adopts the narrative that he is the problem?defective,
    dirty, or overly sensitive?thereby converting fear of the father
    into self-loathing. This is a classic survival tactic: believing your environment is dangerous because you are bad is psychologically safer
    than accepting that the adult meant to protect you is unsafe.

    3. Anticipatory Anxiety and Hypervigilance
    The Living Nightmare of Predictable Trauma: The stanza detailing the
    bedtime routine ("Lights out: in bed by nine each night / Some nights
    wanting to pee with fright... As for my father's belt I'd wait")
    depicts a state of chronic hypervigilance.

    Trauma Time: The use of the word "wait" highlights a special kind of psychological torture?anticipatory dread. The trauma is not just the
    physical pain of the belt, but the agonizing, powerless hours spent
    listening for footsteps, knowing what is coming, and being entirely
    trapped in a body paralyzed by fear.

    4. Delayed Processing and Adult Reckoning
    The Thirteen-Year Gap: The poem opens with the realization that the
    father has been dead for thirteen years, yet the psychological grip of
    the house remains intact. This points to a lifetime of repressed or
    managed trauma that the poet is only now confronting with adult eyes.

    The Fantasy of Total Destruction: The concluding impulse?to buy the
    house only to burn it to the ground?reveals a deep psychological
    need for cathartic closure and symbolic purification. In
    psychoanalytic terms, the house represents an internalized monument to
    the father that continues to occupy space in the poet?s psyche.
    Building a bonfire so high "its flames would light up all the air" is
    an unconscious desire to incinerate the past entirely, to render the
    trauma visible to the whole world, and to reclaim agency through
    total, cleansing destruction.


    <SNICKER>

    --
    "I've known for over a year that this guy is the assassin of the Usenet
    poetry community. When I first arrived, I thought he was keeping the
    lights on in a dead group by reposting from archives. I soon realized
    that he was just endlessly reposting his own stuff, that he had killed
    the group by flooding it, and that most of the people he called
    "trolls" were actually the members of the group.
    I've joined the crowd. I'm done trying to work with him and speak reason
    to him. It's exhausting and pointless." - Little Willie Douchebag gets
    another asskicking from The One True Melissa

    --- PyGate Linux v1.5.19
    * Origin: Dragon's Lair, PyGate NNTP<>Fido Gate (3:633/10)