HistorySurrealism was a cultural movement during the 1920s that evolved around visual art and other literature in Paris. It is defined as speaking to the methology with the usage of techniques, such as hallucinations and word games, to challenge the mind. Surrealist art focuses on the element of surprise and unexpected juxtapositions. Many of the artist involved with surrealism writing viewed their art as an expression of the philosophical movement and saw their work as artefacts. The leader of the movement, Andre’ Breton, believed that surrealism was a revolutionary movement above all. Other surrealist artist included Louis Aragon, Antonin and Rene’ Crevel.
Analysis“Always For The First Time” by Andre Breton is a love story. It is the story about a man’s longing for love and affection. The poem is written as a love note to a woman he has never met or someone he is hoping to meet one day in the future. “Of your presence and your absence in hopeless fusion
My finding the secret Of loving you Always for the first time”. He admires everything about this woman and sees her in every woman he sees on a daily basis. He is willing to wait everyday for the love of this woman and hopes to find her soon so he look and her and love her for the first time. Literary DevicesAlliteration- "It's a honeydew hunt" The author used this alliteration to help to make the piece more poetic.
Assonance- “Where you appear alone before me” This assonance is used to help with the flow of the work. |
Always For The First Time- Andre BretonAlways for the first time
Hardly do I know you by sight You return at some hour of the night to a house at an angle to my window A wholly imaginary house It is there that from one second to the next In the inviolate darkness I anticipate once more the fascinating rift occurring The one and only rift In the facade and in my heart The closer I come to you In reality The more the key sings at the door of the unknown room Where you appear alone before me At first you coalesce entirely with the brightness The elusive angle of a curtain It's a field of jasmine I gazed upon at dawn on a road in the vicinity of Grasse With the diagonal slant of its girls picking Behind them the dark falling wing of the plants stripped bare Before them a T-square of dazzling light The curtain invisibly raised In a frenzy all the flowers swarm back in It is you at grips with that too long hour never dim enough until sleep You as though you could be The same except that I shall perhaps never meet you You pretend not to know I am watching you Marvelously I am no longer sure you know You idleness brings tears to my eyes A swarm of interpretations surrounds each of your gestures It's a honeydew hunt There are rocking chairs on a deck there are branches that may well scratch you in the forest There are in a shop window in the rue Notre-Dame-de-Lorette Two lovely crossed legs caught in long stockings Flaring out in the center of a great white clover There is a silken ladder rolled out over the ivy There is By my leaning over the precipice Of your presence and your absence in hopeless fusion My finding the secret Of loving you Always for the first time |