X
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.
XI
He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
For blackbirds.
Summary
The tenth section presents another simple visual image—blackbirds flying in a green light—and then comments on it, saying that at this striking sight, even people whose only interest is cheap, superficial poetic beauty would be shocked into real awe.
In the eleventh section, we again see a Connecticut man, this time riding across the state in a glass carriage or train car. When he looks outside the window and sees the shadow of the carriage's equipment racing alongside him, he is seized by fright for a moment in thinking the shadow is a flock of blackbirds.
Analysis: X
Section X works on two simultaneous levels, similar to, but subtler than section VII: it shows an image of the blackbird, and uses it to make an indirect taunt against people whom the speaker perceives as lesser poets. The phrase "bawds of euphony" is mocking even in its extravagant word choice: "bawd," meaning a woman who runs a brothel, here is a metaphor for those who write, consume, or trade in cheap, tacky beauty. The "euphony"—pleasing sound—that they adore is shallow, and we can infer that these are poets or readers who care only for verse that is superficially pleasing to the ear while lacking real substantial meaning. These "bawds" are the counterparts of the the "thin men of Haddam" with their imaginary "golden birds": the latter are those who fabricate imaginary images while ignoring real beauty, and the "bawds" are those who write pleasant verses that again ignore real beauty or any deeper, more complex meaning in life.
The image of the blackbirds' flight has the power to startle these mediocre aestheticians because it is commonplace yet unexpected in its complex, emotion-stirring beauty. The slight internal rhyme of "sight" and "light" binds the act of looking directly to the sky, and the strangeness of the "green light" helps give the image its jarring power. We can imagine a turbulent evening sky also riddled with storm clouds that diffuse the light so as to give it a green tint: an image of nature that is chaotic and complex, unable to be distilled into a sweet, simple, and euphonious stanza.
The exact nature of the onlookers' "cry" is left ambiguous: does "sharply" indicate joy, wonder, terror, disgust? The more we wonder, the less it matters, as any of these strong emotions can prove a powerful spark for a poem: after all, this breadth of emotions and more have already appeared related to the blackbirds in this sequence. What matters is that these onlookers are startled into some, any, form of pure, strong emotion—not filtered like their own creations made to be pleasing to the ear above all else. This is perhaps the reaction that the men of Haddam would have if they turned away from their daydreams for a moment and saw, in the right circumstances, the blackbirds walking among their feet. They might realize, as Stevens has tried to communicate, that there is a near-infinite wealth of insight and beauty that poets can find just by looking at nature's pure, basic components without a pre-determined or prejudiced perspective. The "bawds" and the "thin men" might even be able to write far better poems about ordinary blackbirds than about their idealized "golden birds," if they strip away all excess artifice and let nature speak plainly through the poem, as Stevens does in this one.
Analysis: XI
Section XI acts as one last example of an onlooker who does not see or understand the blackbird with the same open mind as the speaker of the poem. In this case, the blackbirds are imagined in a shadow, a threat to the man who rides across Connecticut. The blackbirds here are not unlike the earlier shadow in section VI: they are the unseen creature, the inscrutability of which becomes a specter of fear. The man in the coach is a degree further removed from the blackbird than any other viewer we have seen: he not only does not look at blackbirds; he is frightened by the very possibility of their presence.
The synecdoche of using the "glass" to describe the entire coach creates an ornate, fairy-tale image. Thus, insulated from the outside world by his coach and its fancy "equipage," the man assumes a perspective of superiority as he rides "over," not across, the land. In another parallel to section VI, the glass of the window returns as the viewer's lens, which we can again interpret as a symbol of the act of looking itself. Thus, this man has attempted to secure a privileged point of viewership in which he has a constant window out onto the world while remaining insulated by a physical layer of protection. He is perhaps meant to symbolize a wealthy man who has lost touch with the common, striking details of nature, and/or another pretentious poet whose "glass coach" symbolizes his lofty but entirely artificial art, into which any intrusion of a crude, mundane image would be appalling. He may be one who would hold up the bawds' "euphony" or the "golden birds" as examples of high art.
This is a "way of looking" at the blackbird by someone who is doing his best to avoid ordinary blackbirds entirely. The birds again represent the threat of the unknown, and the man is "pierced" by fear as we imagined we could be pierced by the icicles or shards of "barbaric glass" in section VI—the sharp terror that comes out of a disconcerting mood. However, whereas the speaker has made some peace with the discomfort of stanza VI as the poem has progressed, the rich man is not implied to have changed from this encounter: we are told it happened only "Once." This was, perhaps, the only time he came close to truly seeing something basic in nature with the artifice of human society stripped away, but he will brush it off and remain insulated by his glass walls. The syntax of this stanza is exceptionally restrained, from the calmly presented first sentence to the slow progression of clauses separated by commas—"once," "in that he mistook," etc.—suggesting that the man has already regained his composure. However, the syntax order also delays "For blackbirds" until the final line, giving the birds the last word of the stanza and making them the image that lingers, at least in our minds, even if the man in the coach cannot appreciate it.
