Interpretive Response #3
The Sweetness of Death
Viscous and overwhelming, the cycle of life takes a strong hold on every individual. Its
grasp is tight and its burden heavy. Life is not an easy walk in the park, but rather a vigorous trek
up a steep mountain. For most, the journey is inevitable. For others, however, there is a simpler
route. When life becomes too difficult, too overwhelming, too challenging, they find death to be
a more desirable course. In his poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” Robert Frost
elaborates on the sweet appeal of death through his incredible use of imagery.
A successful man is a man who takes action. He is not lazy, nor does he put aside his re-
sponsibilities. However, success comes with a heavy price. Rest often becomes a foreign concept
to this man. Workloads never cease and to-do lists only grow longer, but his mind longs for
respite. His soul and spirit grow tired and weary. It is a man like this who would take his horse
for a ride on “the darkest evening of the year” (8). Frost uses the word “darkest” to explain that
the speaker has reached the lowest point of exhaustion. Darkness, often associated with death,
appeals to him and beckons him into the woods.
These woods are the perfect place for a weary soul to wander off to, for they create isola-
tion. So far away are they, that even the man’s “little horse must think it queer / to stop without a
farmhouse near” (5-6). Woods, in comparison to a “farmhouse,” lack one thing – humans. Al-
though both might contain animals, woods lack the everyday presence of people. Besides his
horse, the speaker is encompassed by nature. There is no other living being to disturb him. Even
the owner of the woods is nowhere near since “his house is in the village though” (2). The word
“village” instantly creates an image of busy folk running around trying to get their work done be-
fore the sun falls. You can hear people yelling, children screaming, horses trotting, dogs barking.
A unique smell travels from every open door you pass. Even the nights are not perfectly silent.
These characteristics are not entirely negative, but they can become slightly chaotic and be too
much to bear. There are rules of the society, responsibilities of everyday life. The woods, how-
ever, offer perfect solitude. There are no unnecessary sounds or noises, no weird smells, and no
judgmental glances. The woods’ lack of structure becomes more appealing than the chaos of the
village. They are wild, yet they are inviting.
Allowing the woods to draw him out of the village, the speaker finds himself standing
“between the woods and the frozen lake” (7). This man is entirely surrounded by death. Winter is
the season in which nature puts everything on hold. Trees stand naked, honoring their fallen
leaves. Animals hide in their burrows, caught up in their dreams. There is a lack of growth, a
lack of newness. Woods become still and almost silent. They become covered in white snow,
like a white sheet laid over a dead body. Water becomes “frozen” and it no longer moves or runs,
as if it’s reached its death. Frost could have also used the word “frozen” to indicate that when a
person freezes to death, it feels as though they are merely falling asleep. That death is gentle.
A gentle death is alluring to the speaker. In the woods, “the only other sound’s the
sweep / of easy wind and downy flake” (11-12). Although wind cannot be seen, it can be felt and
heard. Its chill can go straight to the bones, and its sound can calm the weariest of souls. The
“easy wind” sends a call to this man. It is gentle, almost like a lullaby luring him to eternal sleep.
Sleep is “easy” while life is strenuous; this appeals to the speaker. The “downy flake” falls lightly
on and around him. It covers the woods, his saddle, and his coat. The flakes fall on his lashes,
making them heavier, tempting him to close his eyes and give into the invitation of the woods.
They are soft and welcoming like a warm, thick blanket made from the finest “down.”
The urge to sleep envelops his mind. Death seems sweet and gentle. It is an escape from
all worries and problems- an enticing remedy for his fatigued soul. But he must not give in to the
coaxing of the woods. He must keep going, keep persevering. His work is not yet over; his time
has not yet come.
Works Cited
Frost, Robert. “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.” The Seagull Reader: Poems. Ed.
Joseph Kelly. 2nd ed. New York: W.W. Norton, 2008. 129-130. Print.
