SPEC 3.2.2 • POWER & CONFLICT
The Emigrée — Carol Rumens
A poem in which the sunlit country of memory survives every political darkness — and the speaker insists that the city she was made in cannot be revised by the news that comes after.
Context — Carol Rumens
Carol Rumens (born 1944 in London) is a British poet, lecturer and translator — known for translating Russian poetry and for what critics call a "fascination with elsewhere." The Emigrée was published in 1993 in her collection Thinking of Skins.
The Deliberate Vagueness
Rumens never names the country, the city, the regime or the year. The lack of specifics is the politics: the poem applies to any exiled experience — Eastern European, Middle Eastern, Latin American — and refuses to make some exiles more legible, or more deserving, than others.
Examiner Watch
Don't try to pin down "which country." Students who guess (usually wrongly) miss the point. The unspecificity is a deliberate political refusal — name that, not a country.
Key Terms
Definition · Emigrée
The French word for a female emigrant — a woman who has left her home country, often for political reasons. The poem is voiced by such a figure.
Definition · Personification
Giving human form to a non-human thing. Rumens personifies the city as a "she" the speaker can comb, love and tend.
Definition · Sunlight Imagery
Recurring imagery of light. Sunlight is the constant of memory, surviving every political darkness — and it closes every stanza.
Definition · Free Verse
No regular metre or rhyme. The unrhymed, speech-rhythm lines keep the voice intimate and the memory fluid.
The Title Does Political Work
The title sets two languages against each other before the poem begins: the English "The" beside the French "Emigrée."
The Feminine Ending
The double-E spelling is the French feminine form. It explicitly genders the speaker — this is a woman's exile narrative, a uniquely feminine response to the lost place.
Why French
"Émigré" carries the weight of historical political exile — especially after the French Revolution. Using French rather than English signals that this is a political displacement, and that the speaker already lives between two tongues.
The Poem's Argument
Rumens argues that the country of memory can be more real and more sustaining than the country of present residence — and that holding onto it is survival, not nostalgia.
Light Against Darkness
The sunlight of childhood is constant; the political darkness — war, tyranny — is what changes, and what others report. The speaker treats the remembered city as a living relationship conducted in the present tense, even though she can never return.
The Move
This is not "she misses home." It is that the self formed in that childhood city cannot be revised by later news. The war is real; it simply cannot reach back and unmake who she became there.
Sunlight vs the News
The poem opens with a fairy-tale cadence — the storybook formula "once upon a time" — before breaking into autobiography. The register marks the city as both real and not-quite-real: a country of memory more than of fact.
Against that bright memory, Rumens sets the political reality the speaker only hears about: the city could now be caught up in war, or ruled by tyrants. The conditional grammar registers her distance — she is not there, she cannot know — but she holds the sunlight regardless. The worst news, she says, cannot break her original view: memory is like a glass paperweight the news cannot crack.
Why It Belongs in Power & Conflict
The poem is mostly about memory and identity — but it earns its place in the cluster through a thread of conflict imagery running underneath. Name it explicitly in the exam so the examiner sees you reading this as a power-and-conflict poem, not just a memory poem.
Militarised Time
Time is imagined as a military advance — a column of tanks pushing forward — while borders close between the speaker and her city like waves rolling in. Political conflict is what builds the barriers that cut her off.
The State Against Memory
The city may be caught up in war, or ruled by tyrants; her childhood language may by now be outlawed by the regime. Power works here as censorship and erasure — trying to ban the very words she carries.
The Key Paradox
The bright streets and slopes of memory grow brighter still as the political machinery advances. Power tries to erase the city; in defiance, the memory only intensifies. Conflict sharpens the light rather than dimming it.
The Branding Image — WHW+C
The poem's central image is of being branded by the sunlight of memory. Run it through WHW+C.
WHAT
Rumens has the speaker describe herself, in the present tense, as branded — marked as if by burning — by the remembered sunlight, in defiance of the political news.
HOW
The verb is visceral and permanent: a brand is made by burning, is indelible, and marks possession. The sunlight is not a memory she recalls — it is a permanent sign she carries, the way livestock is marked by an owner.
WHY
Childhood place becomes part of identity in a way that later political events cannot revise. The speaker is not denying the war; she is insisting her self was formed before it, and the news cannot reach back to alter that formation.
+C
Writing in 1993, Rumens responds to a Europe full of recent displacements — the collapse of the Eastern Bloc, the wars in the former Yugoslavia. The poem is a case study of what ordinary people carry with them when politics drives them out.
The City as a Living "She"
Rumens personifies the lost city as a female being the speaker tends — combing its hair and cherishing it as something alive and present rather than a place left in the past.
Closer to Mothering Than Citizenship
The imagery is intimate and maternal — the relationship is one of care, not of legal belonging. The gendered "she" quietly identifies the bond as the kind of thing women preserve when politics has destroyed everything else: identity kept alive through tending.
Weak
"She misses her home and remembers it fondly."
Strong
"Rumens presents memory of place as an active, present-tense relationship — the speaker tends the city like a daughter — refusing to treat the lost city as past and so keeping her identity alive against erasure."
The Language She Carries
What survives the lost place is its language. Rumens compares the speaker's childhood vocabulary to a hollowed-out doll, carried into exile and opened to spill out a grammar.
The Emptied Doll
The image evokes a nesting doll that contains smaller versions of itself — but "hollow," as if the political events have emptied it while leaving the structure intact. The language remains; the place that gave it has changed. What we carry out of a lost country is what was inscribed in us — words, names, grammar.
Comparison Hook
This image of carried language pairs cleanly with Dharker's Tissue, where records (names, histories) are the part of identity that outlasts the place.
The Turn to the Present — The Walled City
The final stanza shifts to the speaker's present, in a place she calls a walled-in city. Here she meets a hostile "they" who circle and accuse her — treating her remembered country as a contamination she carries.
The Sharp Irony
The city that calls itself free is the one criminalising the speaker's memory — accusing her of carrying darkness and murmuring of death. Rumens locates the irony precisely: the supposedly free society's freedom depends on refusing the identity its newcomer brings. She has no documents and no route home: the exile is permanent.
The Closing Image — The Shadow Proves the Light
The remembered city takes the speaker dancing through the walled present; then, as the accusers circle and murmur of death, it shelters behind her — and the poem turns on its final, defiant image.
First: The City Shelters Behind Her
The repeated possessive establishes ownership: the city of memory belongs to the speaker. Her body becomes its protector — she is the shield the remembered city stands behind, like a child hiding behind a parent. Memory survives because she carries and guards it.
Then: The Final Line
The very last line turns the accusation inside out: as they murmur of death, her shadow becomes proof that the light is there. A shadow can only exist where there is light — so the darkness they accuse her of is itself proof of the sunlight she carries. The poem ends, like every stanza, on light: defiant, not defeated.
Why It Lands
The arc moves from being marked by the city (branded) to being the marker of it (shield) to the closing paradox: even her shadow testifies to the light. The accusation of being "dark" is answered by the logic of shadow itself.
Form — Three Stanzas, Each Ending in Light
The Emigrée has three stanzas. The first two are eight lines each; the third runs to nine. At a glance they look equal, but the extra line refuses a neat close — as if the speaker cannot quite let the memory end. It is free verse, with no rhyme scheme.
Enjambment Then Walls
The first two stanzas flow with heavy enjambment — the fluid, unstoppable movement of memory. The final stanza turns to more end-stops and caesura, enacting the confinement of the walled-in city. The form follows the feeling: free in memory, hemmed in by the present.
The Sunlight Refrain
Every stanza ends on a reference to sunlight. Structurally, no matter what each stanza describes — childhood, displacement, persecution — it closes in light. The form itself insists the memory cannot be darkened.
Key Moments to Revise
Copyright Note
Rumens is a living poet, so this lesson does not reproduce the poem. Use your AQA anthology alongside this map — find each moment, mark it, and rehearse the analysis.
Moment in the poemWhere to find itWhat to analyse
The fairy-tale opening about a lost countryStanza 1, openingStorybook cadence; memory as real and not-quite-real
Memory described as sunlit and clear; the glass-paperweight imageStanza 1Sunlight as constant; the sealed memory the news can't break
The branding by remembered sunlightEnd of stanza 1Identity as indelible mark, not retrievable memory
Time imagined as advancing tanks; borders closing like wavesStanza 2Conflict imagery anchoring the poem in the cluster; memory grows brighter as conflict advances
Her childhood words carried like a hollowed-out dollStanza 2Carried language; what survives the lost place
The city tended like a "she" — combed, lovedStanza 3Personification; present-tense, maternal care
The walled-in present city and the accusing "they"Stanza 3The city that calls itself free criminalising memory; the irony
The remembered city sheltering behind the speakerStanza 3, penultimate lineThe speaker's body as shield for the memory
The shadow that proves the light is thereFinal lineEven the darkness becomes proof of the light; ends on sunlight, like every stanza
Best Pairings for The Emigrée
Section B (30 marks, no AO4, ~42 minutes) asks you to compare the named poem with one other from the cluster. Rehearse these so your only in-exam decision is which theme axis the question is on.
Pair withOn the theme ofWhy it works
Checking Out Me History (primary)Identity, cultural memory, belongingBoth stage a speaker holding an identity the host culture refuses to recognise
KamikazeMemory and shunningBoth centre a figure separated from a community by political circumstance
LondonCities, oppression, belongingBoth present the city as the site where political power and individual identity collide
Rehearsed Primary
On the identity / memory axis, the strongest pairing is Checking Out Me History. Learn it cold.
Worked Example — Emigrée × Checking Out Me History
Constructed example in AQA's question format — not from a real past paper. Both poets are living, so this answer paraphrases throughout rather than quoting.
Compare how poets present ideas about identity in The Emigrée and in one other poem from Power and Conflict. 30 MARKS
Both Rumens and Agard present identity as something political power tries to strip away and the speaker insists on keeping. Rumens's emigrée holds onto a sunlit city of memory even as the city that calls itself free now calls her dark; Agard's speaker rejects a curriculum that, he argues, taught him an imperial story while hiding his own, and ends by shaping his identity for himself.
Rumens uses personification — the lost city tended as a living "she" — to make the relationship active and present-tense: the city is carried, not gone. Agard uses code-switching between Standard English (for the imperial heroes the curriculum taught) and Caribbean Creole (for his own voice and the Caribbean figures it omitted), making the linguistic split colonial power produces audible and claiming Creole as the language of self-construction.
Both argue that identity is asserted against the present society, not granted by it. Rumens's speaker is marked by a remembered light society cannot revise; Agard's is actively rebuilding what the curriculum erased. Both poems end on the speaker's continued work of self-construction.
Rumens wrote in 1993 from a Britain reshaped by post-Cold-War migration; Agard wrote in 2007 attacking the British school curriculum. Despite the different specifics, both identify the same dynamic: the host society's claim to be "free" depends on its willingness to refuse the identities its newcomers bring.
The Level 5/6 Move
The mark scheme rewards a structural arc argument over isolated image-spotting. Track how the three stanzas move — and what stays constant.
The Arc to Track
Stanza 1 is nostalgic childhood memory; stanza 2 is displacement and carried language; stanza 3 is present-day persecution in the walled city. The movement is from safety into threat — yet every stanza still closes on sunlight. The throughline is the speaker's insistence: the darkness advances, but the light refuses to go out.
In Comparison
Set this arc against Agard's refrain-driven recovery — his repeated insistence on what he was and was not taught — while Rumens preserves a light against change; Agard reconstructs a history against silence. Comparing the two trajectories of resistance lifts a response into the top band.
Common Errors
Students often writeCorrect versionWhy it matters
"The poem is about being from a war-torn country.""Rumens deliberately refuses to specify which country, war or year — the unspecificity lets the poem apply to any exiled experience and is itself a political refusal to rank some exiles above others."Captures the choice
"She misses her home.""Rumens presents memory of place as an active, present-tense relationship — the speaker tends the city like a daughter — refusing to treat the lost city as past."Captures the method
"It has three equal stanzas." (and stated, not used)"The first two enjambed stanzas flow like memory; the end-stopped final stanza enacts the walled-in city — and every stanza still closes on sunlight."Form only scores when it does work
Checkpoint
You should now be able to:
Explain why the title is Emigrée with the French feminine ending — gendered, politically loaded, distancing.
Apply WHW+C to the branding image — identity as an indelible mark, not retrievable memory.
Read the ending precisely: the city sheltering behind the speaker (her body as shield ), then the final line where her shadow becomes proof that the light is there — darkness proving the light.
Point to the conflict imagery — time advancing like tanks, borders closing in — that anchors the poem in Power and Conflict .
Use the form accurately: three stanzas ( 8 / 8 / 9 ), enjambment giving way to walls, every stanza closing on sunlight.
Deploy Checking Out Me History as the rehearsed pairing on the identity axis.
Summary — The Emigrée in One Screen
The Argument
The country of memory can be more real and sustaining than the country of residence. The sunlight of childhood is constant; the political darkness is what changes. Holding the memory is survival, not nostalgia — and the speaker's body becomes its shield.
Three Things to Remember
1. The deliberate unspecificity is the politics.
2. "Branded" = identity as indelible mark.
3. Every stanza ends on sunlight.
The One Trap
Don't write "she misses home" or guess the country. Write that memory is an active, present-tense relationship the speaker refuses to let politics revise.
Next
Lesson 4.15 — Checking Out Me History by John Agard. Cultural power, code-switching, and the reclamation of erased history.
Next: Context — Carol Rumens