Frost: The Road Not Taken

Nearly all of us read Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken" in high school--unless you have had the misfortune to be stuck in a school that dropped poetry from the curriculum in order to drill content appearing on those awful standardized tests. For most of us, the message imparted by teachers about its meaning is one that reinforces American individualism--daring to choose your own way in life even if it is uncommon. 

However, the poem has a deeper and more uncomfortable message, one less optimistic and more skeptical. I reproduce the poem here for reference. I have put lines I wish to discuss in bold letters. 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

The poem reflects a mood of ambivalence rather than determination. The speaker states that he took the road less traveled but then he contradicts himself by saying "Though as for that the passing there/Had worn them really about the same."  In other words, that road was not really less traveled. His first judgment was that the road was less traveled BUT when he reflects further on his dilemma, he could not be certain that the road he chose had in fact been less traveled. Frost emphasizes that ambiguity in the next two lines when he writes, "And both that morning equally lay/In leaves no step had trodden black."

In other words, the available evidence--the worn grass, the unblackened leaves--was ambiguous, offering no certain way of tellng which road was in fact less traveled. 

In my interpretation, the poem delivers a somber message: we must make life-altering decisions with incomplete and uncertain information. In fact, life provides us with these dilemmas all the time.  We marry without knowing how the other person will really behave once the ink is dry on the marriage certificate. We have children, an irrevocable decision, without knowing whether they will have a disabling condition like autism or cognitive limitations. Yes, we can try to tilt the odds in our favor, but there are no guarantees. 

I can never think of this question without remembering my dog, Mickey. Mickey was my heart dog, the one with whom I had a unique and special bond. After he collapsed on the floor, I rushed him to the vet, where I was told he had a chronic autoimmune disorder, one that would require lifetime care. The patient information sheet stated that because the disease was chronic, expensive to treat, and resulted in a diminished quality of life for the animal, some owners choose not to treat it. "No," I thought to myself, "Mickey loves me and trusts me to do the right thing for him." Mickey had regular vet appointments, daily steroid tablets, and a diet of chicken and rice that I cooked myself, all in an effort to prolong his life.  One weekend his abdomen swelled so much that his pale, pink skin was visible beneath his fur. 

On that Monday, a CT scan was performed. The dog had hemangiosarcome, a cancer that starts in the spleen and that had spread to his liver. Hemangiosarcoma was the cause of his autoimmune disorder.  He died the next morning. 

I had tried to save his life but had only prolonged his agony. 

The relevant point for this post is that I had to make a life-altering decision based on incomplete information, one that could not be undone, and that may have been the wrong one. I can never be sure.  I believe that this story illustrates the real point of "The Road Not Taken."