JOHN BLOOMBERG-RISSMAN Reviews
“’is it true your father was a swan’” in Palm to Pine by Sunnylyn Thibodeaux
(Bootstrap Press, Lowell, MA, 2011)
“is it true your father was a swan”
before the sun
has completely shown
I hang my head low
to be dipt in water
two times
add blueberries to my oatmeal
listen to a triangle chime
an intermezzo
could sing you a melody
that wouldn’t be my own
but the off pitch
off chance you’d recall
long have I waited
a pot of jasmine tea (at 3 o’clock)
an orange sliced ½ inch
and an open hand
in anticipation of
*
In the famous Greek myth, Zeus, disguised as a swan, impregnates Leda with the same night her husband the Spartan King Tyndareus does. Four children result: Helen, Clytemnestra, Castor, and Pollux. According to the myth, there is some confusion as to who fathered whom, tho in most (tho not all) accounts Helen at least is Zeus’s child.
So it would be “natural” to assume that the speaker here is Helen (or, rather, “a” Helen, since I don’t think we’re supposed to be literally “in” the myth. But, for the sake of saving on scare quotes, I’m going to ignore that. Take me as literally or as figuratively as you wish).
But is this that version of the myth? I’m not quite sure.
First of all, the title comes in the form of a question, tho it doesn’t have a question mark. If it is a question, the answer may of course be “no.” Which could make the speaker any of the four children. Because Thibodeaux is a woman, I am allowing myself the luxury of essentializing, and eliminating the Dioscuri.
Therefore the speaker is either a Helen or a Clytemnestra, each of whom suffers different fates (and then some). Since I don’t believe in the law of the excluded middle, I also consider that the speaker is someone whose fate is somewhere between …
Of course, there are two Helens (the one who went to Troy and the one whose simulacrum did while the real Helen was in Egypt), so things are a little more complex. And of course Clytemnestra waited (tho differently) for two men, Aegisthus and Agamemnon. I don’t have the math for this …
It’s one of the glories of this poem that it doesn’t help us, which makes it four poems in one, or five, actually, or maybe three, or … as I shall explain. But this is only one of its glories. Titled differently, the poem would still have many.
before the sun
has completely shown
It’s approaching dawn. But it’s not just approaching dawn. It’s a precise moment before dawn. We can’t quite determine which, because dawn could still be “brododactylos” (rosy-fingered, an epithet of the dawn-goddes Eos, which Homer uses repeatedly), or the sun could have begun to appear, and not quite cleared the horizon. Nevertheless, the precision that’s beginning to appear in this poem is indeed one of its glories, as will soon be clear.
I hang my head low
to be dipt in water
two times
This is more precision (“two times”), tho that doesn’t foreclose a number of associations. First, it suggests a swan-like movement, which means that the answer to the title’s question could be “yes”. It also suggests someone who’s about to perform her ablutions. Though there’s something slightly odd about the “to be dipt”, which seems to almost suggest that a servant perhaps will be participating. That was tentative, wasn’t it? All I know is that it’s a slightly odd locution.
There’s something interesting in the “two times” as well. This suggests that it’s not a baptism, not a repudiation of the possible pagan parentage. If it means more than that, I don’t know. (Tho my dad did teach me to wash my face twice, the second time “because now the pores are open” …)
add blueberries to my oatmeal
listen to a triangle chime
an intermezzo
Breakfast. Again, not just breakfast, a particular breakfast. I like these details. I believe the chime of the triangle is caused by a breeze or something, because it’s a pause in the action, an intermezzo being defined as
1
: a short light entr'acte
2
a : a movement coming between the major sections of an extended musical work (as an opera) b : a short independent instrumental composition
3
: a usually brief interlude or diversion
(http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/intermezzo Merriam-Webster online)
This is the first indication we have that the speaker is waiting. There has been action, and there will be action, but there is no action at this time. Well, there is: dawn, ablution, breakfast, but they are held in a stillness, as if they were part of the imtermezzo.
could sing you a melody
that wouldn’t be my own
but the off pitch
off chance you’d recall
This introduces a second character, off stage. I believe there is a suggestion that there’s been some time between interaction between the speaker and this character (“off chance you’d recall”).
The melody, I think, is suggested by the triangle and the “operatic” thought that results from its chime. Why wouldn’t the melody be her own? Because, if you are the daughter of a god, or if you might be the daughter of a god, or if you’re not the daughter of a god, there are limits to your options. I will cheat a little and quote the epigraph to the book:
We invent ourselves out of ingredients we didn’t choose, by a process we can’t control.
(Lew Welch)
I believe that the speaker is definitely not feeling in control of her destiny. The next (and final) lines confirm that:
long have I waited
a pot of jasmine tea (at 3 o’clock)
an orange sliced ½ inch
and an open hand
in anticipation of
Again, more precision. The speaker is rather hyper-alert. Which is what happens when one waits …
OK. Now, what if the speaker is “a” Helen? If in Troy, so to speak, is she waiting for her Paris? Probably not, since they were constantly together (I could accept that her wait could **feel** long, but the bit about him remembering or not remembering the melody doesn’t quite fit here). Is the waiting for Menelaus, her husband, from whom she was either kidnapped or from whom she absconded. If yes, she is probably waiting with in dread, because she knows what’s coming. If we accept that she is waiting for Menelaus, that’s one poem.
What if she’s Helen’s in Egypt? Well, she’s waiting for the whole tragic farce of the Trojan War to come to an end (farce because it’s being fought over a phantom) so she can go home. In which case, she’s also waiting for Menelaus, but with different emotion, one I can’t describe, because I have no idea what it’s like to be in Egypt while your husband chases down your simulacrum in Troy. (I’m ignoring H.D.’s Helen in Egypt because it’s so complex, and concentrating on Stesichorus’ Palinode). In any case, a second poem.
What if it’s Clytemnestra? She could be waiting for Aegisthus, which I disqualify on the same grounds I disqualified Paris. So she would be waiting for Agamemnon, then. That’s a whole other set of emotions. But what of the open hand? She does pretend to welcome him … so this is possible. In which case we have a third poem.
There’s yet a fourth possibility. And yes, I’m essentializing again, A woman, a normal human woman, waiting up all night (or awakening very early) is waiting for the return of a beloved. She isn’t quite normal, because she’s extremely literate, and reminds herself of, say Helen. In any case, she’s been waiting a while. She’s very aware of every last detail, hyper-alert, as I mentioned. She’s waiting for the next act to begin. That would be the fourth poem.
Or better, we simply have someone waiting, and we don’t know exactly how they feel, except that they want the one they’re waiting for to come home. This is the poem Thibodeaux’s actually written. I love the nervousness …
*****
[Editor’s Note: This is one of 50 reviews written, mas o menos, in 50 days. While each engagement can be read on a stand-alone basis, there’s a layer of watching the critic’s subjectivity arise in a fulsome manner if the reviews are read one after another. So if you have insomnia and/or are curious about this layer, I suggest you read the 50 reviews right after each other and, to facilitate this type of reading, I will put at the bottom of each review a “NEXT” button that will take you to the next review. To wit: NEXT. And an Afterword on John's reading process is also available HERE!]
John Bloomberg-Rissman is somewhere towards middle of In the House of the Hangman, the third section of his maybe life project called Zeitgeist Spam (picture Hannah Hoch painting over the Sistine Chapel) The first two volumes have been published: No Sounds of My Own Making, and Flux, Clot & Froth. In addition to his Zeitgeist Spam project, he has edited or co-edited two anthologies, 1000 Views of 'Girl Singing' and The Chained Hay(na)ku Project, and is at work on a third, which he is editing with Jerome Rothenberg. He is also deep into two important collaborations, one with Richard Lopez, one with Anne Gorrick. By important he means "important to him". Anyone else want to collaborate? He blogs at Zeitgeist Spam.
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