[In the following essay, Jones provides an interpretation of a specific line of the poem “Good Ships.”]

Taking the old cliché, “like two ships that pass in the night” Ransom constructs a powerful metaphor for two people unable to grasp the possibilities in a chance encounter in “Good Ships.” As Robert Buffington points out in The Equilibrist, “Except for one line, each detail is fitted to the one metaphor, and gracefully” (52). The implications of the poem are numerous. Not only does the couple fail to connect, they slip by one another by choice—“A macaroon absorbed all her emotion.” They are so preoccupied with the business of their lives, and perhaps their own commercial endeavors, that they cannot or will not risk a personal exchange. Described as “Fleet ships” in the first two words of the poem, they are “miserly merchant hulks” in the last. Back they go into the commerce of their daily lives, disregarding the physical and emotional outfittings that excellently equip them for both “storm and sport”—terms that carry connotations of emotional risks and sexual and recreational activity. While Buffington is correct in his assessment of lines contributing to the extended metaphor, the poem seems to hinge on the line, “They exchanged the nautical technicalities.”

When we, as readers, get to this line, we slow down, not just because the words amaze us—and they do—but because there is no smoothness, no ease in the reading. Although the sounds are not completely cacophonous, they are difficult to read quickly. We must complete the end of one word before we move to the next. The dental stops d and t at the end and beginning of two words, “exchanged” and “technical,” force us to change our reading rhythm. It is almost as if Ransom compels us to examine their implication.

On a first reading, the words “exchanged the nautical technicalities” suggest distance, aloofness. The social situation in which this man and this woman find themselves mandates their dialogue. They speak because it is the acceptable thing to do at a Tuesday tea, much as we comment on the slowness of the elevator or the need for rain when we find ourselves passing from floor to floor with a stranger. Conforming to the established metaphor, these words connote a superficial conversation. The word “technicalities” seems impersonal, implying a degree of remoteness beyond the usual “How are you?” or “Mrs. Grundy has an excellent caterer.”

But as we know, words are not always so easily explained or lightly dismissed in Ransom's poetry. A closer examination of the sentence reveals the deeper pathos of the two people's choosing not to respond to one another when they have all the signs that such interaction would be fruitful. The fact that the couple are able to “exchange the nautical technicalities” implies a bond that comes from being able to speak the same language, both literally and figuratively. “Technicalities” cannot be understood by everyone; they have meaning only for a select few. Those who can converse using them are part of a privileged group. Consequently, they already possess a mutuality in being able to communicate in a way that others cannot. And the adjective “nautical” preceding “technicalities” further defines its exclusivity.

The word nautical, related to navigation, is concerned with conducting a ship from one place to another. If one speaks about nautical matters, there is a discussion of course, distance, speed, traveling conditions, destination—all related to passage. If these two ships met on the “surge / Of one of Mrs. Grundy's Tuesday teas,” and “exchanged the nautical technicalities,” they revealed much about their lives to one another. And it was a reciprocal revelation; exchange requires a mutual giving and taking. Each disclosed something, taking in turn information from the other: What is your life like? What are your goals? Expectations? Dreams? How are you going to achieve them? All of these are questions related to passage—the symbolic ocean voyage that constitutes their life. The “nothing or so until they parted” was not an inability to communicate; it was rather a reluctance to respond to the signals received. Maintaining their separateness transformed them from “fleet ships” into “miserly merchant hulks.”

The sharpest irony of the poem is that not only were these two physically fit for a life together, they had all the information necessary to change and go together. The opportunity was not just one of physical proximity but also of emotional and intellectual revelation. However, they parted, individually, each heading for a different destination. Once again Ransom cuts to the quick, takes his scalpel of words and wounds us in showing the pathos and waste that come from awareness with no action.