Wilfred Owen's Life and Accomplishments

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The First World War not only reshaped boundaries, watched empires rise and fall, but it also saw a drastic change in the literary art, and the view of war and all its “glory”. With authors such as Wilfred Owen, the world was beginning to get exposed to the brutality of war from the front line. Like most poets of his time, Owen wrote in the modern period. “And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs” (Dulce et Decorum Est). This gruesome line paints a picture of a gas attack. Although his life on earth was cut short, Owen has truly made a spot for himself among the greatest war poets in history.
Wilfred Owen, a British poet who served in WW1. Born in Oswestry, Shropshire in 1893. He was the eldest of four children. His younger years were spent in his grandfather's house where his family lived until Owen was four. In 1907 Owen and family moved to Shrewsbury, where Owen attended Shrewsbury Technical School. In he applied for a scholarship to University of London, upon being denied he went and studied under Herbert Wigen. In 1913 Owen returned home and taught at Berlitz School of Languages in Bordeaux. By then the war had started. In 1915 he enlisted in the Artists Rifle Company. “In 1916 he was commissioned lieutenant and left for the front later that year, with the Lancashire Fusiliers.” (“World”). In 1917 Owen was admitted to Craig Lockhart War Hospital for nervous disorders, severe migraines and shell-shock. About a month after Owen arrived Siegfried Sassoon, a “poetic hero” of Owens came to the same hospital. Upon becoming friends, Sassoon read Owen’s poems. In 1918, against S...

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...tle fatigue condition, symptoms include tiredness, irritability, jumpiness, lack of concentration and headaches.

Stanza four gives the strongest imagery in the whole poem. “Behind the wagon that we flung him in, and watch the white eyes writhing in his face”, gives a picture of loading his dead body on the wagon. “His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin, if you could hear, at every jolt, the blood Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs”, describes the mans face hanging from the wagon, and at every bump blood pours out of his “corrupted” lungs. “My friend, you would not tell with such high zest to children ardent for some desperate glory the old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori”, In this Owen says the dead man wouldn’t tell children the old lie: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori (It is sweet and right to die for ones country).

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