“Visiting Hour” is a poem by Norman McCaig. The piece describes a person’s numb feelings while visiting a loved one in hospital. McCaig writes from a withdrawn perspective, using basic word structure and short sentences to show this person’s feelings. He also uses intense imagery to give the poem the desired effect. From the way that it is written we presume that McCaig is writing about the situation from personal experience. The journey through the brightly lit corridors of a hospital towards the resting place of a familiar person is one thing that we must all face at some point in our lives.

In the first three verses of the poem McCaig shows how his mind was somewhat detached from the situation, while the body continues on towards the place that the conscience dreads. He notices things that are happening on around him, like how “what seems a corpse” is “trundled” into an elevator and seemingly rises towards the heavens. McCaig also uses repetition and the pauses dictated by lineage

“I will not feel, I will not

feel, until

I have to.”

and we realise how he is showing his reluctance to feel any emotions until he can hold onto them no longer. In verse four McCaig’s attention shifts to the nurses. He wonders at how they can still “walk lightly, swiftly, here and up and down and there” even with the heavy weight of some many deaths hanging over them. The confused word order shows how the nurses are doing anything they can to stop themselves from thinking about death. Using words like ‘burden’ and ‘miraculously’ McCaig makes it seem as if they are carrying such a great weight that it seems impossible for them to continue with their tasks.  He thinks about how they can remain beautiful and feminine in this environment, “their eyes still clear after so many farewells.”

          As the poet enters Ward 7 he gains his first sight of the patient. Lying in a “white cave of forgetfulness” gives the image of a bed surrounded by the white curtains to obscure the view of anyone nearby waiting to catch a glimpse of the dying person. This image also conveys the numbing effect of the anaesthetic drugs and how they affect the patient’s sense. “A withered hand trembles on its stalk” as the patient attempts to show a strong greeting, feigning hope and strength. “Eyes move behind eyelids too heavy to raise” would seem as if death is calling to the patient, welcoming her into a long, warm, unending sleep. The poet uses alliteration to describe “a glass fang is fixed, not guzzling but giving” and how this is just a needle inserted into the patients arm to allow pain relievers to be injected. However to the narrator it seems that on first sight this fang is sucking the life of the patient. All this is taken in by the poet as he stands there, rooted to the floor by the sight of his much loved companion in this frail state. In the last sentence of the verse McCaig tells of how the patient can barely recognise this visitor to her bedside because of the expanse of pain which pulses through her body, distracting her, drawing her away from the world into herself.

          The final verse is one complete sentence that visualises the passing of the patient and her departure from the world. The poet rises into her field of vision and she smiles as she recognises the familiar face, but the black figure slowly fades away into the distance as she drifts away into the unknown. McCaig writes about how the patient is “leaving behind only books that will not be read and fruitless fruits.” This is just a reminder of the gifts many receive while in care – books to read to pass the time. The “fruitless fruits” could mean how the fruits have lost their young, sweet beauty in this place of death and the oxymoron is despairing and final.

          The first half of the poem is mainly about feelings, even though there are not that many expressed; the second half is much more descriptive of the patient’s environment. The poet uses imagery and alliteration to highlight key points in the verses.

This poem does no doubt describe an event that will happen at some point in all our lives. Meeting a loved person in hospital is a difficult experience for all. McCaig describes it wonderfully and even though I have not been in such a situation myself, I feel the negativity of the poem and can understand what the poet must feel like, if not fully.