We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
I always thought that, too - that he was an abyss-gazer and a frightening metaphysician. From The Fear:
You understand that we have to be careful. This is a very, very lonely place. Joel!" She spoke as if she couldn't turn. The swinging lantern lengthened to the ground, It touched, it struck it, clattered and went out.
No fuzzy, avunclular, laconic Yankee he. In fact, a Californian transplant to NH via Dartmouth College. "Accessible"? I don't know: his imagery is familiar and country, but that's just imagery. From a New York Sun review of Frost's newly-published Diaries:
Frost's popular Yankee image, which he assiduously cultivated through readings, lectures, and even some of his poems, helped him to win the immense popularity that he enjoyed in his lifetime: four Pulitzer Prizes, a spot on the dais at the Kennedy Inaugural. Yet Trilling recognized that the aged poet would not be helped in his passage to posterity by this Norman Rockwell carapace, which could only seem more fake and dated with the years. That is why Trilling insisted on calling Frost, to his face, "a terrifying poet." Really, he had less in common with Longfellow than with Sophocles, "who made plain ... the terrible things of human life."
Trilling's remarks came in for what seems now like a surprising amount of criticism. When the New York Times reported on the speech, affronted readers wrote to suggest that Trilling should be taken "to the woodshed," while Frost consoled himself with "a nice plate of buckwheat pancakes and Vermont maple syrup." This anxious resort to the very clichés of Americana, which Trilling had decried, only proved how right he was. It was vital, for Frost's longterm artistic reputation, to separate the maple syrup from the poetry.
The living come with grassy tread
To read the gravestones on the hill;
The graveyard draws the living still,
But never anymore the dead.
The verses in it say and say:
"The ones who living come today
To read the stones and go away
Tomorrow dead will come to stay."
So sure of death the marbles rhyme,
Yet can't help marking all the time
How no one dead will seem to come.
What is it men are shrinking from?
It would be easy to be clever
And tell the stones: Men hate to die
And have stopped dying now forever.
I think they would believe the lie.
(In A Disused Graveyard)
roger de hauteville
"Abyss-gazer", whether it apples to Mr. Frost or not, is a truly excellent turn of nomenclature.
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
(closing quintain of Keat's "Ode to a Grecian Urn")