The narrator of “Siren” hears the siren as something “saying my name, / a human voice full of pain and anger.” That he hears it this way suggests that Breslin wants us to consider not only the sound of a fire engine or ambulance, but also the tempting voices of the Sirens who tried to keep Ulysses from returning home to his family.

Because this narrator hears the siren this way, it reminds him of people in his life, both dead and live, who said things “full of pain and anger,” who probably caused him pain and/or anger as well.

As the narrator notes of these tense situations, they were “almost the end” of a relationship. The word “almost” tells us that these relationships survived the pain and/or anger. The narrator did not give in to the temptation to leave his wife, say something hurtful to his mother, reject completely his father.

And so, when the narrator says in the last stanza that there is “so little to separate us / from the one the siren is for,” I think he is referring to more than calamities like a fire and a heart attack. I think he is also referring to “so many things were that almost the end,” a marriage, a father-son relationship, a father-daughter relationship. What kept these relationships going? – Just the right word in time? The grace of God? A phone call to deflect attention to the pain?

Whatever it is, it is “so little,” and that is what Breslin wants us to dwell on.

A few quibbles – “Saying my name” is a step away from a cliché like “the siren had my name on it.” Most heart attack victims (at least where I live) are served by ambulances, not fire engines. And if the narrator lives around the corner from a fire station, the hook is just too convenient to use this particular time for a meditative poem, since I’m sure the narrator has heard the sirens many, many times.

Overall, however, I like the economy and evocative details of this thought-provoking poem.

Thank you for your analysis, MaryAnn; you've saved me a lot of time in putting together my own thoughts, as I concur with yours. I also appreciate Richard's statement, Who hasn't at one time woke up in the middle of the night haunted by his past?

The only discordant note in the poem, for me, is the "human voice full of pain and anger," which doesn't seem to be reconciled with the fire siren at the end of the poem. I realize that the Sirens weren't human either, but, if I remember correctly, they appeared to be women. Help?

suei, Wikipedia says that Homer's Sirens were bird-women. It also said that according to mythology, following a siren's song often led to to a bad result -- which, I think, Breslin alludes to with his near misses of broken relationships.

MaryAnn, well done, as usual. I might 'quibble' myself with a few of your observations.

First, I am not certain that in modern verse it is necessary tha the author/narrator/reader tie himself/herself to a mast whenever a siren is heard. I think 'saying my name' is closer to your suggestion of cliche, closer to his seeing a bullet with his name on it, for example. But I find no fault with this. Eventually, he is saying, the bullet WILL have his name on it, the siren WILL be saying his name.

As a result, I find it completely understandable that he would therefore see his life flash before his eyes, another cliche I am willing to live with here.

As for the firetrucks, in my neighborhood, any call for an EMT brings the ambulance, the firetruck, AND a police car, so you'd better be sure before you dial 911 :).

Take care.

I thought the poem was simple and straightforward. I did not even think to make the connection to Ulysses’ Sirens.

Good point about how one would become accustomed to living next to a Fire House. I have lived next to the sounds of passing Freight Trains and Fog Horns. Fog Horns become particularly soothing.

My personal trigger for the types of thoughts expressed in Siren: 3:00 AM phone calls...never good news.

I guess I can't get past the fact that a fire siren in no way sounds human to me, and for me, at least, the poem would work better without that particular adjective. I believe the (Homerian) Siren's song was irresistible to the listener. But that's my quibble.

Interesting. I find nothing wrong in likening the siren to a human voice. I suppose my thought is that even if it does not sound exactly (or even remotely) like a human voice, as you argue, it's 'call', it's 'cry' carries all of the tragedy that afflicts humanity within it.

So, even if we cannot hear the human voice in the siren itself, we can hear that wailing within its meaning, if that makes any sense.

I think your second point, re the Sirens' song being irrestible to the listener, Odysseus and his crew in particular, helps make the point that not all sirens are Sirens as I try to state earlier in this thread. Nothing in the poem seems remotely about tempation, and the siren certainly does not seem to tempt the narrator.

Sometimes, a siren is a siren :), as MaryAnn's own Paul Collins (is that his name?) would probably argue.

Take care.

Billy Collins.

In re-reading, I agree, there really is nothing that would reference the Sirens. Just a trained tendency to draw a literary parallel, I guess. As for your point, it's 'cry' carries all of the tragedy that afflicts humanity within it - lovely.

Thank you for the correction, and for the compliment, both greatly appreciated (one moreso than the other :) ).

Take care.

MA,

The fire engines are responding because there is a fire.

whose house flies into the air as cinders,
who lies on his bed turning purple and clutching his heart.

Maybe somebody is having heart trouble induced by the fire, but there is, no doubt, a fire.

On the subject of the cliche, siren "saying my name," I thought that was one of the more clever turns in this well-crafted poem. The sound of a siren is something like, AUUUUUUUL, AUUUUUUUL. Which sounds a lot like Paul, to me, especially if its waking up the speaker in the middle of the night. Add that [siren] call rhymes with Paul, and there's the connection.

The literary reference is rather obvious. In the Odyssey, before Ulysses, nobody who hears a siren call lives to tell about it. "For whom the siren tolls." That's why when he remembers his family calling his name, PAUUUUUUL, under the near-broken circumstances, he (like Ulysses) has been lucky enough to hear it and (those relationships) survive.

So many things were almost the end.

This poem would be very different, maybe more interesting maybe not, if it ended after:

At the fire station around the corner,
the engines are pulling away.

Which would leave the question: who are the sirens coming for? Are they pulling away from the speaker or away from the station towards the speaker?

As it is that hinge of doubt is made explicit by the final stanza:

So little to separate us
from the one the siren is for,

Maybe the siren is for him? Is he the man clutching his heart at the end? How does he know the man is turning purple?

Intriguing ambiguity. After all the near misses, at last the siren comes for him?

CM

Cutter, I think the ending is a bit heavy handed -- spelling out the theme for us. Besides, how would the narrator know who or what the siren is for? I think he's just speculating at the end.

Hope Paul Breslin himself shows up, as he's done in the past.

Mary Ann

Yes, Mr. Bresner, please show up; I have

a question for you. Yet I will save that for

last. Anger and pain? I have had my share.

Let us review yours in ascending order.

Children cry: (at the drop of a hat children

cry). Veritable fountains of youth those imps.

My daughter would cry if I told her: Yes; the monopoly

game is over. Go to your room, your anger is

unacceptable! She would cry! Oh me…Oh my!

She would cry when her Oscar fish died.

And be awash in remorse. For she sometimes only pretended to feed them.

She would most certainly cry if the police showed up to arrest me

“for a crime so long concealed I forget its name”.

Which brings me to my question. Did you have a hand, either wittingly or unwittingly, in causing a conflagration which burned up a home and was the causation of the death of an innocent man?

If so…this poem has taken on a new gravitas!

If not...heh dude, chill! We all miss our

Dads. Your mother sounds really quite

mellow! And the kids? They are so forgiving it's incredible!

HAP, if you re-read the particular things Paul Breslin has his father, mother, wife and daughter say, I think you'll see that their relationships were in much more peril than you indicate in your post.

MA

Your point is well taken. I understand relationships in peril. Good relationships are built on the ability (and the willingness) to communicate and to "fight fair". Had I read Mr. Breslin's comments, I may have refrained from this post; we posted almost simultaneously.

Yet the point of my post: perspective and self-forgiveness?

I'll hang my hat on the purpose, if not the result, of my post.

And, if I have to eat my hat? It won't be the first time.