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Word Gems
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Rudyard Kipling
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If— by Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
from https://www.litcharts.com/poetry/rudyard-kipling/if
“If—” Summary
If you can stay calm when everyone around you is panicking and holding you responsible for their panic; if you can be confident even when no one trusts you, while still taking other people's concerns into consideration; if you can be patient; if you can avoid lying even when people lie about you; if you can not hate anyone even when they hate you; if you can be virtuous in these ways, but still not think too highly of yourself;
If you can have big ambitions, without becoming a servant to them; if you can be analytical, but not get lost in analysis for its own sake; if you can take a measured approach to successes and failures, seeing them both as temporary and not especially meaningful; if you can handle it when unscrupulous people distort your sincere words to deceive the ignorant; if you can lose everything you've worked for and get right back to rebuilding it from the ground up;
If you can risk everything you've earned on a single gamble, lose it all, and begin again from nothing without complaining; if you can push yourself to total mental and physical exhaustion and still keep going with only your willpower to support and sustain you;
If you can mingle with the masses without losing your own moral compass, or travel in the highest society without becoming haughty; if neither your enemies nor your friends can hurt your feelings; if you can treat everyone with respect, but avoid idolizing anyone in particular; if you can fill up every second of unrelenting time with worthwhile action, then the world will be your oyster—And, more importantly, you will be a true man, my son.
“If—” Themes
Composure and Self-Restraint
The speaker of "If—" champions a morality built on moderation. In this poem, he advises his son to move through life with composure, and to always exercise self-control, integrity, and humility. This means never letting "Triumph" nor "Disaster"—events either good or bad—go to one’s head. Composure and self-restraint, the speaker implies, makes it possible to act with dignity in all circumstances and to lead a respectable and virtuous life.
No matter what happens, the speaker believes, it’s important that people keep their cool. He tells his son to “keep [his] head” about him even when everyone around him is losing their composure—not to respond with vitriol just because other people might “hate[]” him, for example. Similarly, the speaker says that his son should calmly devote himself to rebuilding his life if it ever goes to shambles, encouraging him to remain reasonable and diligent even when times are tough.
The speaker also insists that his son shouldn’t become smug about his own measured and virtuous way of navigating life: “[D]on’t look too good, nor talk too wise,” the speaker says, steering his son away from vanity (in the sense of merely wanting to look like a good guy) in favor of simple levelheadedness. Essentially, the speaker’s saying that people need to find a happy medium between confidence and modesty (lest their self-assuredness blind them to their own shortcomings). Those who succumb to neither vice nor vanity are those who are capable of persevering through hardship, their “Will” always telling them to “Hold on!”
The idea, then, is that composure leads to strength and integrity: the speaker insists that the world will be his son’s oyster if only he practices restraint and discipline. These qualities will also turn the boy into a true "Man," the speaker says, indicating that he thinks respectable men are defined by their ability to lead measured, dignified lives. (Remember, this is an Edwardian poem with an essentialist view of gender—see the theme on Manhood and Masculinity for more about that.)
All of these ideas about composure and restraint align with the stereotypically British “stiff upper lip”—in other words, the idea that one should be resilient in the face of adversity. This was a particularly popular worldview in the late 1800s and early 1900s, when a number of British poets embraced the Ancient Greek philosophy of Stoicism, which urged indifference to both pain and pleasure. Because this indifference is so similar to the moderation the speaker tells his son to adopt, it’s reasonable to read “If—” as the speaker’s argument for why British society (and in particular, British men) should embrace Stoic ideals.
Theme Manhood and Masculinity
Manhood and Masculinity
To the Edwardian-era speaker of "If—," manhood isn't something one is born with, but a quality one earns. The poem reflects some rather old-fashioned ideas about masculinity; after all, the self-sufficiency and levelheadedness the speaker describes would be virtues in any person, and marking them out as specifically male feels antiquated and sexist. Yet poem also doesn’t just grant every man these qualities, and instead suggests that men must earn manhood. Masculinity, the poem insists, is a demanding goal that one must strive for, and the few who achieve virtuous manhood enjoy a rock-solid sense of self. To be a capital-M "Man," in this speaker's view, is a virtue, an achievement, and its own reward.
The whole poem is built around a set of goalposts, standards of good behavior that a boy has to achieve in order to become a "Man." Manhood isn't inborn or natural, the poem suggests, but a state one achieves through self-sufficiency, self-mastery, and stability. To be a man, the "son" the speaker addresses must learn to "keep [his] head," "lose, and start again at [his] beginnings," and "talk with crowds and keep [his] virtue": in other words, he has to develop an inner security that makes him brave, centered, and unflappable. The sheer length of the poem's list of instructions suggests that this is hard work!
The rewards of this kind of difficult self-mastery, the speaker suggests, are great: being a "Man" means even more than having "the Earth and everything that's in it" at one's disposal. Manhood, in this poem's view, is its own reward, providing its possessors with an unshakeable sense of self. The speaker's capitalization of the word "Man" suggests that he sees manhood as an honorable title: becoming a "Man" is like earning a degree or being knighted.
To the modern reader, all this might sound narrow and sexist, since it seems to single certain good human qualities out as specifically male. But this vision of a distinct and virtuous masculinity fits right into the speaker's Edwardian worldview, in which gender roles were clear, separate, and rigid—and male authority was taken for granted. Reading masculinity as an achievement, the speaker makes it clear that, in his view, the powers and responsibilities of Edwardian maleness are earned, not automatic.
Lines 1-4
"If—" jumps directly into giving advice: using apostrophe, the speaker addresses an unidentified "you" with some choice guidance about how best to live life. At the very end of the poem, it'll become clear that the "you" here is the speaker's son, but in these opening lines, it might just as easily be the reader. The advice the speaker has to offer, this structure suggests, applies not just to the son he's speaking to, but to people in general (or rather, as the poem will later make clear, to men in general).
The speaker starts a lot of ideas in these first lines, but he doesn't finish them. Instead, using anaphora to extend his thought, he starts to build a collection of advice without coming to a conclusion about what, exactly, will happen if the reader does what he advises:
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
This parallel construction repeats through the whole poem: in fact, the poem is one long sentence built from similar clauses. The suspense this shape creates draws readers through the poem, making them wonder what all this advice will lead to.
First and foremost, the speaker emphasizes the importance of keeping one's cool even when everyone else is going out of their minds. The speaker also advises that his reader should remain calm if others "blam[e]" him for something that has gone wrong. Similarly, the son should "trust [him]self" when everyone else "doubt[s]" him, but he should also acknowledge that he's not perfect and that others might have good reason for "doubting" him.
Both of these suggestions show the speaker's belief in the importance of maintaining one's composure, poise, and humility. The general message here is that one should never let emotions get the best of one, and should avoid stooping to the level of one's enemies. This general outlook borrows from Stoicism, an Ancient Greek philosophy that urges people to resist the influence of extreme emotion, regardless of whether that emotion is pleasant or painful.
These lines establish the speaker's use of iambic pentameter, a meter in which each line contains five iambs, or a foot consisting of an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable (da-DUM). Take, for example, line 2:
Are los- | ing theirs | and blam- | ing it | on you;
This bouncy rhythm couches the speaker's stern advice in musical language: there's upbeat energy here, not just admonitions.
“If—” Poetic Devices & Figurative Language
Apostrophe
The speaker uses apostrophe throughout the poem to address his son. However, the fact that the speaker is talking to his son doesn't become clear until the very end of the poem. Until that moment, the speaker simply uses the second person, saying things like:
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
Because the speaker uses "you" so much, the majority of the poem reads as if it's addressed to anyone at all. Everyone who reads "If—," it seems, could very well imagine that the words are intended for them. Or, at the very least, readers can reasonably assume that the poem is about humanity in general, as the speaker dispenses advice that more or less applies to everybody.
Of course, it becomes clear in the last line that the speaker has his son in mind, as he says: "[...] you'll be a Man, my son!" But this doesn't necessarily mean that the poem doesn't also apply to other people. To the contrary, the speaker's use of apostrophe makes the poem feel universal, since the speaker lays out a bunch of advice that isn't specific to just one person, but to all of humanity (or at least, in his view, to all men).
To make "allowance" for something is to give it room. The speaker's point is that the son should leave room for other people to doubt him.
Form, Meter, & Rhyme Scheme of “If—”
Form
"If—" is made up of 32 lines evenly divided into four octaves, or eight-line stanzas. This measured, balanced structure reflects the speaker's strict belief in the value of a measured, balanced life.
In spite of being 32 lines long, this poem is a single continuous sentence! The speaker uses distinctive anaphora to join up this sentence's many clauses, starting thought after thought with the words "If you can." Take, for example, lines 1 through 6:
If you can keep your head when all about you
And losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
These repetitions support the poem's steady, gradual build. Instead of immediately saying what will happen "if" the son follows his advice, the speaker just adds more "if"s, building a suspenseful pile of parallel sentences. He waits until the poem's last lines for the payoff: following all these suggestions, he concludes with a flourish, will give his son "the Earth and everything that's in it"—and make his son a "Man."
Meter
"If—" is written in iambic pentameter. This means that each line contains five iambs, or metrical feet consisting of an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable (da-DUM). For example, line 2 looks like this:
Are los- | ing theirs | and blam- | ing it | on you;
Iambic pentameter gives the poem a bouncy da-DUM da-DUM rhythm that makes its speaker sound lively and vigorous. But it also gives the poem a little gravitas through its strong association with great writers like Shakespeare and Milton—associations which suggest the speaker takes the advice he's giving here very seriously.
A few lines in "If—" play with meter for effect. Take, for instance, line 31:
Yours is | the Earth | and ev- | erything | that's in it,
Instead of an iamb, the speaker begins the line with a trochee, or a foot with a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed syllable: "Yours is." This emphasizes the word "yours," spotlighting the speaker's use of apostrophe as he addresses his son. The line also uses a feminine ending, meaning that its last iamb has an extra unstressed syllable tacked on. That extra syllable gives this line a little boost of momentum, carrying readers briskly on to the poem's stirring conclusion.
Rhyme Scheme
"If—" follows a simple alternating rhyme scheme:
ABABCDCD
Although the speaker's advice is stern, this easy, singsongy rhyme scheme feels appealing, friendly, and musical—an effect that communicates the affection the speaker has for his son. After all, he's giving his son all this advice because he wants him to lead a meaningful, worthwhile life.
Throughout the poem, the speaker alternates feminine endings and masculine endings—that is, lines that end with an extra unstressed syllable and lines that don't. (See the Meter section for a little more on that.) In the first three lines, the speaker uses the feminine endings of the rhymes "about you" and "doubt you" to line up three instances of the word "you" in a row. This repetition calls attention to his use of apostrophe. By starting with those three "you"s, the speaker seems to be trying hard to get the attention of the person he's addressing here—and since readers don't yet know that the poem's real addressee is the speaker's son, these insistent rhymes might well make them sit up a little straighter in their seats, asking, "Me?"
“If—” Speaker
"If—" never directly reveals its speaker's identity, but many people read the poem as if it's addressed to Rudyard Kipling's son, John. This, of course, would mean that the speaker is Kipling himself—an interpretation that makes quite a bit of sense, since most of the advice in "If—" sounds exactly like the sort of thing the (very British) Kipling himself would believe.
Regardless of whether the speaker is Kipling himself, it's reasonable to assume that the speaker is a father, since the poem is addressed to a son and gives paternal-sounding advice on manhood. More specifically, the speaker is a father who wants his son to move through life with restraint, confidence, and a strong work ethic, believing that these traits lead to a worthwhile and successful life.
“If—” Setting
The poem doesn't have a particular setting, since it's made up of advice that the speaker wants to give his son. This gives the poem a universal feeling: rather than grounding his poem in a specific place and time, the speaker talks broadly about the qualities that lead to a successful life. In his eyes, this poem might be directed to any young man in any time and place.
However, it's clear that the poem comes out of a male-dominated society that values a strong work ethic, self-restraint, and other stereotypically British values. Because the poem is often seen as a celebration of Stoic ideals, it makes sense to read it as a product of the "stiff upper lip" mentality that was popular in Britain around the turn of the 20th century (and is still very much part of the country's national identity).
Perhaps there's even the suggestion that the young man the speaker advises here will grow up to be a pillar of the British Empire. Kipling was a full-throated imperialist, and paternalistically believed the British had a responsibility to guide and shape the "less civilized" countries they colonized, guiding their citizens toward just the kinds of ideals he expresses here.
Literary and Historical Context of “If—”
Literary Context
Rudyard Kipling was one of the most popular British writers of the late Victorian and early Edwardian periods—that is, the turn of the 20th century. He published "If—" in his 1910 book Rewards and Fairies, a work that demonstrated his mastery of both prose and verse. Kipling had already published both poetry collections and popular children's books (like The Jungle Book and Just So Stories); Rewards and Fairies, which alternated between historical fiction and poetry, melded his interests, combining his poetic talents with his knack for storytelling.
With its endorsement of self-restraint and poise in even the most trying circumstances, "If—" is a perfect example of how British literature has championed the principles of Stoicism, an Ancient Greek philosophy that taught indifference in the face of hardship. The general idea of Stoicism is that people shouldn't let extreme emotions affect the way they move through life, regardless of whether those emotions are negative or positive. Even Shakespeare toyed with this idea in his play Hamlet, in which Hamlet says, "[T]here is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so"—implying that it's possible to use intentional, diligent thought to alter one's perspective on life.
These Stoic ideals worked their way into a mindset that is now associated with the British national character. Writers like Kipling helped cement this stereotypically British outlook, which is sometimes called the "stiff upper lip"—a term used to describe British integrity, endurance, and composure.
This sentiment became particularly popular in the Victorian era, as evidenced by poems like William Ernest Henley's "Invictus," which was published in 1888 and ends with the lines: "I am the master of my fate, / I am the captain of my soul." Kipling's "If—" is very much in keeping with this worldview, playing on the idea that respectable people (or, in male-centric turn-of-the-century Britain, respectable men) should have the kind of integrity and diligence that puts them in charge of their own destinies.
Historical Context
In an interview he gave after the publication of "If—," Kipling said the poem was inspired by a man named Leander Starr Jameson, who led what's known as the Jameson Raid. This 1895 military campaign was a failed attempt to incite a British rebellion in South Africa. The fact that this raid was unsuccessful might make one wonder why, exactly, Kipling had Jameson in mind while writing a poem about what it means to be an upstanding, respectable man. But Jameson's failure is actually a perfect illustration of the speaker's belief in the importance of composure, confidence, and perseverance: after his failed raid, Jameson went on to a successful political career.
The poem was published in 1910, a period of relative peace in Britain. However, the British crown was still waging colonial wars abroad (much to the imperialist Kipling's approval). World War I was also only four years away, and the horrors of World War II and the Blitz (in which ruthless German bombing campaigns devastated cities across the UK) followed close on its heels. Given this national history, it's no surprise that "If—" remains one of the most popular poems in Britain to this day: it captures the country's commitment to ideals of self-possession, courage, and unswerving perseverance in the face of adversity.
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