The Millennial Pedestrian

“Naming of Parts” by Henry Reed

A couple of days ago a friend happened to mention this poem and I immediately decided to post it. Many of you may be familiar with it already but if you’re not, now would be a good time. Reed’s poem is set in a British Army basic training classroom and describes the poet’s distraction as an instructor takes the recruits through the mechanical pieces of a rifle. Every time I read “Naming of Parts,” I wind up with this bemused, bittersweet feeling – that Reed is talking about something important that I’m missing or that we’re all missing as our instructor drones on with the lesson. (You can decide for yourself who, or what, the "instructor" is in your own life.)  Its colloquial diction, its wonderful, playful use of double-entendre and what feels to me like a deep sustained chord of loss and sadness bring it very close to my notion of the perfect poem.

Naming of Parts

Today we have naming of parts. Yesterday,
We had daily cleaning. And tomorrow morning,
We shall have what to do after firing. But today,
Today we have naming of parts. Japonica
Glistens like coral in all of the neighboring gardens,
    And today we have naming of parts.

This is the lower sling swivel. And this
Is the upper swing swivel, whose use you will see,
When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel,
Which in your case you have not got. The branches
Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,
    Which in our case we have not got.

This is the safety-catch, which is always released
With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me
See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy
If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms
Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see
    Any of them using their finger.

And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this
Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it
Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this
Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards
The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:
    They call it easing the Spring.

They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy
If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt,
And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance,
Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom
Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards,
    For today we have naming of parts.

This entry was posted on Monday, November 13th, 2006.
It's part of the Prose category.
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