Marlene Montgomery
Professor Obermeier
English 200
16 November 1998
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Normal Covers a Wide Range:
The Poetry of Edna St. Vincent Millay
The poet Edna
St. Vincent Millay is a composite of her own unique history: she thinks
about it, reflects upon it, and recognizes how things happen in life and
why. As a result, her poetry has a cause and effect quality, as though
shaped by the people, events, and relationships influential to her thinking
and behavior. However, Sigmund Freud says that the drives and impulses
behind behavioral forces are internal. [comment1]He
defines normal behavior as equilibrium in the trilogy of interactions
among pleasure (the id), reality (the ego), and social constraints (the
superego). Both the analyst and the poet create controversy by discussing
the functionality of sex; the former analyzes its subtle motivations,
and the latter uses it to contradict the social norm of female asexuality.
Unlikely to be wholeheartedly approved of by either Freudians or feminists,
Millay's poems: [I, being born a woman and distressed], [What lips my
lips have kissed, and where and why], and [Women have loved before as
I love now], explore a female-centered artistic vision which turns the
table on the prevailing male-centered expectations of women.
Applying both psychoanalytic criticism and
feminist criticism to the work of Millay results in a Jekyll and Hyde
dichotomy. Psychoanalytic criticism applied to the behavior of Millay's
speakers may lead us to view their feminist leanings and the poet's creativity
as imbalance, possibly neurosis. The pleasure-seeking-id surfaces in
[Women have loved before as I love now]. From a psychoanalytic point
of view, the neurotic world of fantasy-escape is exemplified in lines
thirteen and fourteen: "When [1]treacherous queens, with
death upon the tread, / Heedless and wilful, took their knights to bed."
Freud might classify the speaker as unbalanced due to an overactive id.
Perhaps the speaker seeks refuge in fantasy because of an inability to
cope with reality. On the other hand, the use of strong female images
from mythology would, most likely, give the feminist critic an entirely
different spin on the same poem. [comment2]It
is a widely accepted feminist belief that characterizations of stronger
women in literature and mythology have been ignored while submissive and
demure representations of women have flourished. Images of two powerful
women are conjured up by the speaker. The speaker compares herself to
a woman of the past in line three; [comment3]"Of
Irish waters by a Cornish prow" refers to Cleodhna, a supernatural female
of Irish mythology, who lures young men away for sexual purposes. Akin
to the sirens in Classical culture, she emits a wail or call that none
can resist.Additionally, line four "Or Trojan waters by Spartan mast"
refers to Helen, who maddened with lust for a Trojan man, follows him
to Troy, leaving at home her child and husband. Although her true nature
is the subject of ongoing debate by scholars, generally Helen is blamed
for the war which devastated both Greece and Troy. While neither character
exemplifies the most illustrious traits of women, still their imagery
subverts the common idea of passivity associated with women's sexuality.
Millay's poems maintain that the sexual
freedom formerly commandeered by men is equally valid for women. This
feeling is particularly obvious in the sonnet beginning "What lips my
lips have kissed" (1); the speaker's love life is characterized by a series
of convenient relationships.Given lines seven and eight for analysis,
"For unremembered lads that not again / Will turn to me at midnight with
a cry," Dr. Freud might suggest that the impulsive sex serves the double
purpose of sabotaging a promising relationship while feeding the needs
of thespeaker's ego.Feminist and other [1] critically-oriented
literary scholars who have learned how to identify objectification in
their sleep certainly would not miss it in this poem. [comment4]But
because convention is twisted by the poet's gender, this tactic seems
fresher, less hurtful, and more amusing.There is novelty and irony in
a woman using what may be considered the male gaze to scrutinize her own
capriciousness.The use of analogy in the sestet ties together the transience
of nature's beauty with the loss of magnetism that the aging speaker feels:
"Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree, / Nor knows what birds have
vanished one by one" (9-10). Cyclicly, in nature, beauty which perishes
will renew itself, but this speaker does not believe her last lover will
be followed by another.As winter marks the ending of a year, so the speaker
feels her beauty has faded with age and, as a result, her active love
life has reached its end. Line twelve "I cannot say what loves have come
and gone" at once illustrates a certain selfishness in the speaker's attitude
towards her former lovers and also gives the impression that there were
quite a few of them. [comment5]With
tenderness, the closing lines whisper remembrance and regret: "I only
know that summer sang in me / A little while, that in me sings no more"
(13-4). But, as a whole, this poem and more obviously the next poem resists
sentimentality.
The double standard that restricts women
while compelling men to be overtly sexual is ridiculed in Millay's [I,
being born a woman and distressed]. The tone of the poem is detached
and unemotional, stereotypically masculine. In contrast, the choice of
diction keeps the sexual expressions subtle and indirect; the word choice
in lines three through five, "Am urged by your propinquity to find / Your
person fair, and feel a certain zest / To bear your body's weight upon
my breast," is purposely and stereotypically feminine. Concluding physical
attractiveness and the convenience of nearness to be practical catalysts
for sexual liaisons is part of a logic that has long been associated with
males [1] exclusively. The speaker exercises her femininity
in a tongue-in-cheek fashion to undo her opponent with the etiquette based
on this masculine logic. Using direct dialogue, albeit one-way, the speaker
makes it clear to a past conquest that she is not only uninterested in
resuscitating their former affair, but coldly adds that she would like
this conversation to be their last:
I
shall remember you with love, or season
My
scorn with pity, - let me make it plain:
I
find this frenzy insufficient reason
For
conversation when we meet again.
(Millay,
[I, being born a woman and distressed] 11-4)
[comment6]By
aligning her emotions so closely with that of the opposite sex, Millay
would most likely find criticism from Freudians and feminists to be at
opposite ends of an approval spectrum. Freudians may see the poet's literary
imitation of male behavior as a manifestation of the inferiority complex
known as penis envy. However, the feminist critic might applaud the poet
for exposing the love'em and leave'em system of behavior practiced by
too many males. Sharp contrasts in criticism would likely please Millay
because her poetry is replete with contrasts.
Comparing the poems [Women have loved before
as I love now] and [I, being born a woman and distressed] to one another
we see a consistent style that unifies both works, but we also see contrasting
emotions that explore relationships from different vantage points. The
speaker in "I, being born" has no memory of the past and no
prevision of the future; she is not bitter, but objective and in total
control of her emotions. [comment7]Her
blasé attitude is in sync with her dispassionate actions. In contrast,
"Women have loved" offers a protagonist of intense, even tragic
vitality; this vitality expresses itself in ferocious, violent activity:
"I find some woman bearing as I bear / Love like a burning city in
the breast" (7-8). In like manner, the choice of the women of antiquity
to which the speaker compares herself leads us to visualize her passion
as a mighty and destructive force. Because of the intensely dissimilar
overt attitudes, Freudians might have their work cut out for them in discovering
a single covert meaning underlying these two poems. Likewise, feminists
may scratch their heads in confusion because of the poet's refusal to
fit her ideas neatly into a feminist package. Another interesting contradiction
made obvious by comparing these two poems is: by the use of standard sonnet
form, Shakespearian in "Women have loved" and Petrarchan in
"I, being born," the poet's unorthodox views may receive the
legitimacy of tradition while the content simultaneously mocks tradition.
[comment8]Unable
to fully know the poet's intent, we may only speculate that perhaps Millay
is attempting to reconcile with, rather than distance herself from, convention.
It is doubtful that either Millay's mental
health or her politics can be evaluated on the basis of three poems. While
her poetry has a feminist essence, most modern feminists do not believe
that using the methods of patriarchal oppression against men will further
the cause of equity for women. Furthermore, many of Freud's opinions
and the [comment9]judgements
of psychoanalytic criticism based on his opinions seem laced with sexism;
this leaves the value of these judgments open to debate. Yet, examining
these poems from both psychoanalytic and feminist perspectives allows
greater insight into the complexities of Millay's mind and greater appreciation
for the independence of her spirit. Today, in the world of feminism and
psychoanalysis there is no single system of thought to describe the female
experience - normal covers a wide range. In this age, as women and men
continue to redefine the standards of moral and proper behavior for both
sexes, Edna St. Vincent Millay's ability to look beyond the status quo
is a rare and much sought after gift.
[comment10]Works
Cited
Millay, Edna St. Vincent. [I, being
born a woman and distressed]. The Norton Introduction to
Literature.
Eds. Jerome Beaty and J. Paul Hunter. 7th ed. New York: Norton, 1998.
1190.
_ _ _. [What lips my lips have kissed, and where,
and why]. The Norton Introduction to Literature.
Eds. Jerome Beaty and
J. Paul Hunter. 7th ed. New York: Norton, 1998. 817.
_ _ _. [Women have loved before as I love now]. The
Norton Introduction to Literature. Eds.
Jerome Beaty and J.
Paul Hunter. 7th ed. New York: Norton, 1998. 1181.
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