First Fight. Then Fiddle by Gwendolyn Brooks
"First Fight. Then Fiddle" is a thought-provoking sonnet by Gwendolyn Brooks that explores the duality of artistic aspiration and the harsh realities of life for African Americans during a period of significant social injustice. The poem features a speaker, embodying a concerned mother, who urges her children to prioritize fighting against oppression before they can fully engage in the pursuit of art, represented by the metaphor of the fiddle. This work is part of Brooks' larger sequence "children of the poor" and reflects on the struggles faced by marginalized communities, emphasizing a need for resilience and confrontation in the face of adversity.
The poem illustrates the challenges that aspiring artists must navigate, suggesting that achieving a peaceful life dedicated to art requires first confronting and overcoming societal violence and discrimination. Brooks utilizes a blend of traditional sonnet forms and innovative techniques, employing rich imagery and sound devices to enhance the emotional depth and musicality of her words. Ultimately, "First Fight. Then Fiddle" serves as a compelling commentary on the interconnectedness of art and activism, highlighting the necessity of fighting for justice to create a safe space for creativity to thrive. This intricate interplay between struggle and art reflects broader themes of survival and perseverance within the context of systemic oppression.
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First Fight. Then Fiddle by Gwendolyn Brooks
First published: 1949 in Annie Allen, 1949
Type of poem: Sonnet
The Poem
Gwendolyn Brooks’s “First Fight. Then Fiddle” is a sonnet that advocates the use of militancy to make the environment safe for art to flourish. The poem is the fourth sonnet in the sequence “children of the poor” in the “The Womanhood” section of Annie Allen (1949) and uses the persona of a black mother whose meditations on her fears, concerns, and hopes about her children lead to, in the poet’s own words, “preachments” to negotiate the pitfalls and dead ends they would face. “First Fight. Then Fiddle” can be better understood when discussed in the context of sonnets that precede it. The second sonnet of the sequence raises a question, “What shall I give my children? who are poor” and is followed by “And shall I prime my children, pray, to pray?” Finding solace in religion or faith, thus, is one possible alternative for the children. “First Fight. Then Fiddle,” the fourth sonnet, then presents another option, a resorting to violence for self-preservation.
![Gwendolyn Brooks By MDCarchives (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons poe-sp-ency-lit-266781-148022.jpg](https://imageserver.ebscohost.com/img/embimages/ers/sp/embedded/poe-sp-ency-lit-266781-148022.jpg?ephost1=dGJyMNHX8kSepq84xNvgOLCmsE2epq5Srqa4SK6WxWXS)
“First Fight. Then Fiddle” begins with the speaker commanding aspiring musicians, ostensibly her children, to prepare to fight before turning to their fiddle. The fiddle is, in fact, the metaphor for all art, and the poem is an expression of the speaker’s proffered solution to the dangers faced by African Americans during the period of rigid segregation. The lines that follow the two short imperative statements “First fight. Then fiddle” depict what the aspiring artists can expect —a life of working incessantly, muzzling their hurt, and playing the masterpieces. Softened with silky effects and sweetened with honey, music would have to be an integral part of their disciplined lives. In a life devoted to music, according to the speaker, there is no room for unpleasantness—“no salt, no hempen thing.” They would need to rise above the malice of their surroundings and quell the repeated temptation to avenge themselves.
However, the next stanza shifts its focus away from the portrayal of a life of industry and tranquility required of an artist. Art cannot serve as an escape from reality. The speaker announces that before such a life of dedication and devotion to art can be pursued, the aspirants would have to arm themselves, thus reverting to the idea of fighting presented in the first line. The reality of the world would demand that in order to win the war, they use “hate” as their armor and make themselves oblivious to the infinite beauty of the world of art. Understandably, they would be bloodied by the confrontation but, according to the speaker, it is imperative that they tame the world into accepting them. Only a civilized world would provide them an opportunity to play their violin “with grace.”
“First Fight. Then Fiddle,” in short, dwells on the need for total devotion to art and at the same time the necessity of fighting for a just world.
Forms and Devices
In “First Fight. Then Fiddle” Brooks takes liberties with the traditional sonnet form. The rhyme scheme of the poem reflects the influence of the Shakespearean sonnet—three quatrains, abba, abba, cddc, followed by a rhyming couplet, ee. However, in the development of thought, it follows the Petrarchan model of structuring the poem in an octave—an eight line stanza—followed by a sestet—a six-line stanza. The first eight lines, after the initial imperatives, picture the lives of artists, and the next six lines advocate fighting the war against discrimination or tyranny in order to create an environment safe enough for nurturing art.
Formal devices, such as meter, diction, and imagery create a distinctive mood in the poem. The superb control of rhythm and language makes the sonnet tremendously appealing. Here again, Brooks departs frequently from the customarily used iambic meter to create the desired effect. For instance, she uses two accented syllables “First Fight” and then again in line twelve, “Win war” for emphasis “First fight. Then fiddle” is followed by a soft “then” leading to a string of alliteration— “slipping string”— and repetition of vowel sounds “feathery sorcery.” “Bewitch, bewilder” follow next. The repeated use of alliteration and assonance underlines the musicality of the poem—almost like playing of the violin. In addition, Brooks also uses frequent enjambments—ending sentences in mid-line—to further emphasize words. The second line with its four stresses moves emphatically through a progression of verbs, such as “Bewitch, bewilder,” “Qualify,” “Devise,” “Devote,” “Be remote,” “Carry. . . .” The capitalization of these verbs lends added force to the exhortations of the speaker.
Brooks’s intricate word play further enhances the complexity of the poem. Phrases such as “feathery sorcery,” “hurting love,” and “Bewitch, bewilder,” have connotations that deepen the meaning of her words. For instance, feathery suggests the airiness, the lightness, but is juxtaposed with sorcery, thus bringing in a magical quality to the plying of strings. Seemingly opaque phrases as “Qualify to sing/ Threadwise. Devise no salt, no hempen thing/ For the dear instrument to bear” tease the reader into discovering the intent of the poet. The listeners are being asked to weave music in the fabric of their lives “threadwise,” and the admonition to “Devise no salt, no hempen thing” offers an effective contrast to the “silks and honey” imagery in line 7. The advice to suppress hurt and “be remote from malice” is later substituted by a reminder to use hate as a protective sheath. War allows no time to reflect on art or beauty: winning is the ultimate goal. Finally, the metamorphosis of the fiddle in the first line into a violin in the last line is accomplished artfully. The fiddle with its rustic suggestiveness is appropriate for the beginner; the violin with its aura of sophistication is naturally apt for a civilized world.
Bibliography
Brooks, Gwendolyn. Report from Part One. Detroit: Broadside Press, 1972.
Bryant, Jacqueline, ed. Gwendolyn Brooks’ “Maud Martha”: A Critical Collection. Chicago: Third World Press, 2002.
Kent, George E. A Life of Gwendolyn Brooks. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1990.
Lanker, Brian. I Dream a World: Portraits of Black Women Who Changed America. New York: Stewart, Tabori & Chang, 1989.
Madhubuti, Haki R., ed. Say That the River Turns: The Impact of Gwendolyn Brooks. Chicago: Third World Press, 1987.
Melhem, D. H. Gwendolyn Brooks: Poetry and the Heroic Voice. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1987.
Mootry, Maria K., and Gary Smith, eds. A Life Distilled: Gwendolyn Brooks, Her Poetry and Fiction. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1987.
Washington, Mary Helen. “Plain, Black, and Decently Wild: The Heroic Possibilities of Maud Martha.” In The Voyage In: Fictions of Female Development, edited by Elizabeth Abel, Marianne Hirsch, and Elizabeth Langland. Hanover, N.H.: University Press of New England, 1983.
Wright, Stephen Caldwell, ed. On Gwendolyn Brooks: Reliant Conversation. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1996.