George Meredith breaks open the niceties of “classical love.” It’s near unbelievable, what the poet conveys in this passage, coming from a student who winces at the thought of two loved ones killing each other. There. Meredith evokes a horrific and somewhat sadistic image of a husband/male lover strangling the sobbing woman. (Note the juxtaposition of husband and male lover to lend substance to the student’s mind-set. It cost him hundreds of thoughts to recall that in “modern love,” sharing a “common bed” isn’t restricted to husband and wife. Hence the hesitant and reluctant addition.) Murder is no lenient matter, particularly so in dealings with religion (again, “modern love” pays little heed to religion: matrimony, fidelity, both out the window).
This all sounds tangential, and reading this through gives evidence to that quality to the student, but he is somewhat distracted with that disturbing image of Meredith’s. A description of the image is unnecessary and wasteful. An analysis of the image is a tenuous format with out anything substantial, like a printed image. An analysis of the text is what is asked, and half the time in writing has been spent trying to pin down exactly what would sound a better essay. The first half (above) is a disparate collaboration of dozens of thoughts crammed in to a few sentences. Too many loose thoughts like that, in such close quarters, are bound to breed disorder and poor quality.
That said and with only a few minutes remaining, piece together the thoughts above like some distraught child might try to piece together a broken lollipop on the floor (before his/her parents comes around and throws the remains away). And the lollipop, unfortunately, is a rather disgusting exotic flavor that few will enjoy.