Sonnet #8: Baby & Bathwater
 

The Baby and the Bathwater


"Our fabulous account of the medieval world supposes
that the lord of his household would bathe first,
followed by other men, then women, then children—
with the unfortunate baby being plunged last into sinfully
black waters. Hence the catchphrase, “Don’t throw the baby
out with the bathwater.”--Elizabeth Pollard Thistlethwaite

Let it go, let it all go down the drain—
The forest ashes where a witch was burned,
Dirt from the cellar where a queen was slain,
No heir escaping death, and nothing learned,

The crescent moons of darkness under nails,
Ditch-digger’s drops of sweat, the blood from soil
That sprouted fingertips, the slick from snails
Where the butchered peasants were left to spoil:

Let it swirl, let it all swirl down the drain—
Let murderous grime be curlicues to gyre
Around the blackened mouth, let mortal bane
Be gulped, and waste be drink for bole and briar.

Here's a new-washed babe; marvel what man mars,
The flesh so innocent it gleams like stars.

COMMENT BY CATHERINE: Although the origin and meaning of the catchphrase set out in the epigraph have been debated [the concept of warning against avoidable errors, the rejection of the vital along with the expendable, the discarding of essence while retaining dross, a metaphorical warning against overreaction] the vivid images in this finely crafted sonnet — filled with wonderful metrical substitutions, inventive rhymes, a perfect mixture of alliteration and repetition, leading up to the chilling couplet — sings of evil and goodness, leaving the reader the option of deciding where that babe will go.

How good to see a poem NOT being rejected because it needs an epigraph of some length for its fuller appreciation. Poetry magazine editing pundits, please take note!

This is a stunningly articulated piece with wonderful sounds to match its dark reflections. Way out in front for me.

COMMENT BY GAIL: This poem has a quality of fairy-tale evil that reminds me of the witches' cauldron song in Macbeth, so that I practically expect the refuse to include "finger of birth-strangled babe." Instead, however, a newborn of star-like cleanliness and innocence turns up, like Hope at the bottom of Pandora's box. The whole sonnet brilliantly illustrates my thesis that poetry is the art of choosing one right word after another.

I like this sonnet very much as well, though I don't agree that it "needs" the epigraph at all. I think the title would be enough. Surely, if there is to be an epigraph, the final sentence of it could be omitted.

Expertly done. While this is purely a matter of taste, however, the last two lines fall just a trifle flat for me, exclaiming tendentiously about "man" and reminding us that babies are innocent.

I like this for its unusual conceit; good things can be done with riffing on a stock expression.

If we're comparing poems, though, it seems to me that while this one offers different aspects of human evil, they all point in the same direction and they contain no surprises. If I have to choose (and that's the point of this event, is it not?) then I prefer the nuances of sonnets 6 and of 1.

**I've come back to this because a bit more thought reveals another part of my resistance to it. The poem seems to say that we could throw out the evils of history and culture and be left with essentially good humanity. I'm afraid I can't agree with that aspect of it.

**Back again. Readers have questioned the epigraph, but it seems to me that the purpose of the epigraph is to establish a connection between the proverb about not throwing out the baby, etc. and Things Medieval. While the epigraph itself says the lore is bogus, I'm still just a wee bit resistant to the connection that starts off the poet's riffing. Clearly, the connection worked for the poet, though it doesn't work for me, and that's the sort of thing no one can help.

my new favorite
 

This is now my favorite, if only because it's not another poem about old people or people getting old. Six of eight so far, and I'm including the internet poem because the narrator's attitude is so obviously old ("these darn kids and their devices! get off my digital lawn!").

The language is great, and I really like the repeated "Let it." The author might have made L5 another "Let it" line as well as the last to create an entire new form: a refrain sonnet. I'm going to try one of those myself. I especially like the "crescent moons" image.

I have a problem with the historical details in the first stanza. Executions, historically, were public affairs, meant to reinforce the power of the state, restore justice, offer a moral lesson and entertain. So witches weren't burned in the forest, and queens, with the rare of exception of Czarina Alexandra, didn't die in cellars. They were held in the public square or some other prominent place. Only today, where execution has become a largely secret, medical event to mask the absolute shame of it, would these details be accurate.

I have no problem with epigraphs, but I see no need for this one, which was cribbed from David Wilton's WORD MYTHS along with several other entries and sent around as an email a decade ago, which cheapens it for me. See: http://bit.ly/17nsmXr for the Wilton. And Snopes on that email: http://www.snopes.com/language/phrases/1500.asp

I struggled a bit with the metre in the slick from snails/ Where the butchered peasants were left to spoil: -- the missing half-iamb makes snails / Where an awkward spondee shaped enjambment which doesn't seem deliberate -- i.e. isn't intentionally contributing to the sense of the line. Needs fixing.

I also scratched my head at and nothing learned -- does that mean no one heard of the murder of the queen / the heir?

But overall the tone is an incantation and very effective for the subject matter. Well crafted.

There's something primal about these images that appeals to me. The meter pushes the content along nicely, and I think the substitutions are well handled and pleasing — to my ear at least. I agree that the epigraph is not needed, and in fact, it rather saps the energy of the poem — there's enough so that it does not sink it— but I would drop it (witty though it is). I love "ditch digger's sweat," and "bole and briar." My only nit is line 14. It seems a little flat after the great images that preceded it. But, that said, I'd follow this poet anywhere.

Rob

I'm not sure anything more than the title is needed to set up the concept--but if so, I'd make it very short and matter-of-fact. I felt like the epigraph jarred with the tone of the poem, and without it the start of the poem would be much more striking. Going directly from the title to the first line would have a great hortatory quality, with the gruesomeness a welcome irony.

I agree with Stephen about the forest witch and cellar queen--those seem like 20th century atrocity details, not medieval. The forest ashes would be easy to fix. And for L3, how about: "Dirt from the cellar where a queen has lain"?

The poem would be more interesting if there were less absolute gore, and more general naughtiness. And isn't the idea that these are the lords and ladies, who eventually will bathe away their lurid activities? Not just every sort of killer or earth grubber. ("Ditch-digger" doesn't seem like the type to bathe.)

But maybe I'm seeing this in a different way than it's intended.

I enjoyed this one, and I'm glad to see it was selected. The subject matter certainly skirts the line of going over the top (some very gothic-style images that do not appeal to everyone), but I think the poet pulls it off. I agree with someone (Roger, I think) who thought the last line was a bit of a let down. But I think the rest of it is strong enough to carry it.

Oh, points where I think it might even bubble slightly over the top: "mortal bane," "queen was slain," and "waste be drink." The archaic feel is supported by the subject, though.

It's interesting to compare this one with "Requited Love." Both seem to use some of the same rhetorical techniques (repetition of keys words and phrases, along with a sort of list-poem feel) - bit of the same formula. However, if I had to choose between the two, I would probably go with "Requited Love" as #1 right now. In this poem, I am a bit disappointed in the almost exact repetition and use of the same rhyme word in the sestet, but I think it works with the overall mood of the poem. Also, I'm not really sure there is a volta here, for those who scream for the volta. Maybe I'm missing something, though.

As for the epigraph, it almost made me stop reading. Too much wall-of-text feel, and not really necessary.

Wow, the comments and views have really tapered off. . .are people just getting tired?

I admire the unusual themes here but it doesn't quite work for me and I'm having trouble putting my finger on why. Too forced? Too self-consciously baroque?

.......let mortal bane
be gulped, and waste be drink for bole and briar...

This part of the poem illustrates what bothers me...but I can't express exactly why. The sword-and-sorcery vocabulary?? The archaisms, like "babe" instead of "baby."

Yes, there's intentionally a fairy-tale feel, and I think there's always a place for exotic vocabulary, well-deployed; and I admire that this poem is trying something vivid and colourful--the opposite of the restraint of "Requited Love," as someone has pointed out. But. Not quite working.

Christine.

Fascinating. Carried through all the way. I like Childe ballads, and I like formal diction when appropriate, as in this poem. I will come back to this poem more than once.

L3 - the queen could have been murdered, not executed. Same for the heirs.

L4 - does not parallel the rest of L2-L8. "and nothing learned" is both weak and confusing.

So (L2-L4):
The ashes from the fire/flames/pyre/x that burned the witch,
Mold from the cellar where the queen was slain,
Dirt from the place the prince lay in a ditch,

& therefore:
L6 - Gravedigger's/Grave robber's drops...

L11 - "mortal bane" - the parallel with "mortal wound" is inexact and some readers may be confused that somehow the "bane" is mortal. So "deadly bane", despite being somewhat hackneyed, at least until something better can be found.

L12 - "gulped" seems to me not in accord with the diction of the rest of the poem and obtrusive. Try "sucked".

L14 - The couplet needs work. "marvel what man mars" seems rhyme forced & "gleams like stars" inaccurate anyway. So:

At last, the new-washed babe, her eyes agleam,
Her flesh so innocent and sweet, like cream.

This is lame, I guess. I offer it only to show that the sonnet is not locked-in to the existing couplet. There should be many possibilities. The "new-washed babe" and the innocent flesh are surely worth saving.

I had the same reaction as Catherine. I love the concept, but the details are not quite gripping me. I had a look last night when I was stupid-tired, and am having another now that my brain has kicked somewhat back into gear, but it's still not clicking.

It doesn't bother me that the Thistlewaite epigraph is false, since it's colorfully false.

The verb in "Let it go, let it all go" feels too weak and generic to start an incantation with (twice!). "Drip", maybe? That starts a slow trickle that speeds up with "swirl" in S3.

In addition to the historical issues already pointed out, the passive voice in S1-S2 isn't serving the poem. The point is that people did these horrible things. Yet the sentence structure tiptoes politely around the perpetrators to focus on the victims.

I love the sonics in S3. With "Let mortal bane/ be gulped", I find again that the passive voice is distancing or muting something that ought to be louder.

Officially stating the poem's morals weakens it: "nothing learned"; "marvel what man mars". Just give me the juxtaposed images, and I can work it out.

I do love the innocent flesh in the couplet.

This one's got great potential, but isn't quite there yet in terms of execution.

I'm an epigraph fan but this sounds too much like wikipedia and way too wordy -- but -- could be effectively shortened to make it more 'in tune" with the poem itself, e.g.

...the lord of his household would bathe first,
followed by other men, then women, then children —
...the unfortunate baby being plunged last into sinfully
black waters...author

I have to disagree with some of the points made a few posts back about "Marvel what man mars." "Forced" is not what it is; to be "forced" it would have to be syntactically wrong in all types of English. It's marked by the poetic device of alliteration, and it's in elevated diction, and it could reasonably be called archaic because of all those things taken together. But it's not "forced."

And it's right that it should be marked and elevated, because it's a crux in the poem. It summarizes the poem's claim, which is the wish that all the evils of human culture might be thrown away, leaving the purity of a child's nature. The poet wants us to pay attention at just that spot.

This is a masterful, raging sonnet, every word another indictment. It rivals Geoffrey Hill, Blake, Milton - what can I say but wow. Also, Thank You, Poet.

I agree with Maryann about "marvel what man mars." I think that line works well, but the slightly overblown diction elsewhere distances me from feeling much about the poem. It's a good concept but somehow doesn't entirely deliver for me.

I like Sharon's suggestion to shorten the epigraph. The historical context helps, but there is currently too much of it.

I like the closing couplet
 

quite a lot; the rest's a logical muddle to me, only somewhat clarified by the epigraph.

I appreciate this effort and, as has been stated, it has a lot of potential.

Yet, while we're "throwing out the baby with the bath water," then why do we have:

Let it go, let it all go down the drain?

This could be taken metaphorically but with the image of a literal bath being the anchor of the poem I can't help but think of modern plumbing. Yet we don't say "don't let the baby go down the drain."

Similarly,

Let it swirl, let it all swirl down the drain—
Let murderous grime be curlicues to gyre

"Gyre" is soooooo "20th century," with the Yeat's association raising a red flag. Seeing how this word choice reinforces the idea of a bathtub drain, rather than the tossing of water, it doesn't add anything realistic while it distracts with the unintended or clumsy literary allusion.

This observation ties in with the other historical aspects mentioned earlier (e.g., witches were not burned in forests).

All this is moot and mute, if the medieval Europeans had drains for their bathtubs. But even if they did, which I seriously doubt, then why toss babies?

The archaic diction (sorry, Nigel, no disrespect!) bothers me. Yet, this poem has a single thought and carries it all the way through even if, as others have observed, correct details are lacking.

Don

This one left mixed impressions for me. I like the theme, and the list approach, and some of the dark details work really well (“ditch-digger’s drops of sweat”). But some details seem over the top to me (snails AND butchered peasants in one image?), and L4 doesn’t seem to fit (too broad, and more editorial than the rest). I thought the final couplet could be punchier, and in L13, don’t we usually “marvel AT” something, rather than “marvel” something?

A skillful sonnet that still needs some tweaking?

"Baby & Bathwate"
 

Totally reads like a true old fashioned sonnet . . . because it lost me through and through (LOL), but that's a good thing because it made me go back and read it several times and again and again to internalize what it really all means.

I give this one an A for simply mirroring what used to be in what sounds like an older English. Bravo!

What I loved about this poem was the crackle of the language. Someone mentioned sotto voce in an earlier post, and that has its place, but lyric intensity done right is amazing.

For me, the epigraph serves to pardon some of the archaic language in this sonnet. Without it, I'd be confused by "butchered peasants" and the general medieval atmosphere. In fact, it pushes up against that risk even with the epigraph, but at least that prepares us.

The couplet kind of kills it for me. It's such a tidy and moralizing end. I also have problems with the stress count in L13. But mostly it's just the let down after the toxic brew of the third quatrain that really irks me.

This is my favorite of the three I've read so far. I like the refrain, especially in the first line, a great beginning after the ponderous epitaph. i agree with Danoff re 'where a queen has lain' and other comments. Poem could be smoother, less gory, a cool tone would work better and i think the poem already aspires to that. the last line - I'd leave out 'the', to end this poem with reference to 'flesh so innocent' is kind of devilish and delectable. 'the flesh' is clunky language. i don't know about meter. maybe add syllable later in line. the line itself could be more stunning, & I agree with Slater, the reference to 'man' in penultimate line is a throwaway. instead of some general imagery - ditchdiggers, peasants, even queen, a few specifics might be fun & would be easy to find. Poem's a bit general, before letting it swirl into a mass, let the specifics gleam for a second, like stars in their own right. might work better (for me). Again, good discussion!

I like this one a lot. To take some slight issue with Maryann, I do find the final couplet a bit "forced." Alliteration is not itself a sign of "forcedness" (though one could question the identity rhyme hidden in "marvel / mars"), but the metrical roughness, combined with the omission of "at" ("marvel at") may indeed communicate a bit of an impression of forcedness. The line has seven strong stresses (HERE'S a NEW-WASHed BABE: MARvel what MAN MARS), laid out in a fairly irregular pattern. I'm no stickler for "correct" meter, and have probably written lines like this myself in the past, but I am not sure those variations are working for me here. I would prefer something more like,

Here, take this new-washed babe. Look what man mars--
The flesh so innocent it gleams like stars.

I was going to say that I think the simile not 100% apt, but having re-written it thus, I think maybe it's just the rhythm of L13 that overups the applecart for me.

C

What concerns me more about the couplet is whether and in what sense gleaming like a star is a sign of innocence, whether a single baby's skin would gleam like plural stars, whether a baby's beautiful skin gleams in a starlike way (does it twinkle?), whether the word "babe" fits the diction, and the aptness in today's dictions of using "man" the way it's been used.

This one really didn't appeal to me. There's something Goth about it - faux-Medieval - and it seems more constructed than flowing naturally from within. I don't get much of a turn - it's like a film that's all special effects but not enough plot.

I don't think the epigraph is needed - it just seems to get in the way, and the title by itself says enough. As a matter of fact, I think the poem is more effective without the epigraph.

The couplet brings to mind a foundling destined to do great things that will form the basis of a "fabulous account."

Yes, yes, please don't toss out the baby with the bathwater!
 

While L1 begins less than iambic, the fascinating array of scenes and fabulous imagery take the reader through the depths of those foul corners where only the damned venture, deliciously tendering one hair-raising vision after another, chilling the plebian blood while haunting with enough to rouse Macbeth's less than savoury aids. Frankly I do love Gail's allusion to Macbeth since this is too richly fitting, also rousing memories of Scot's Ivanhoe and other similar tales.

What thrills the most is the rich injunction of the final couplet, turning the macabre discussion onto reality's plate, hinting none to subtly, leaving me scrambling as the dastardly activities come home to remind us afresh what we do with those charming little new beginnings, hardly aware of our responsibilities.

As a metaphor I can barely begin scoping the possibilities, but it likewise plays out too beautifully as we are wont to pervert novices sans a second thought, or perhaps it is more that they are too readily the prey of ill's heinous claws.

A Shakespearean which begs placement in the ring for its fabulous dark visions sweetly sketched, while if I may dare to nit-pick, I think a bit larger difference in the end-rhyming between quatrains and even the couplet, or is this another half Spenserian prize?

Not the greatest sonnet, since L's 1, 8, 9, and 13 are all too trochaic, or correct me, and the end-rhyming leaves a tad to be desired, but having seen the judges said something different was afoot at this contest's inception and the call for permutations too loudly clear, I am sufficiently thankful this is a fair sonnet in its own right, those invocations its most charming feature.

Thanks for sharing, I enjoyed it!

ttfn,
Jenny

Though I enjoyed this poem for its unusual subject matter and treatment, and I rather like the dark quasi-medieval language in contrast to the baby, but I would throw out the epigraph. It's somewhat interesting, but detracts from the poem, and seems to overly instruct or direct our reading.

Siham

I rather like the bookishness of the epigraph, but think it could be shortened. Also, it would help if it were formatted differently to keep it visually from competing with the poem. Perhaps that visual element has contributed to what seems its lopsided quality. Hence, shortened and re-formatted...


The Baby and the Bathwater

"...the lord of his household would bathe first,
followed by other men, then women, then children—
with the unfortunate baby being plunged last into sinfully
black waters. ”
....................—Elizabeth Pollard Thistlethwaite

Let it go, let it all go down the drain—
The forest ashes where a witch was burned,
Dirt from the cellar where a queen was slain,
No heir escaping death, and nothing learned,

The crescent moons of darkness under nails,
Ditch-digger’s drops of sweat, the blood from soil
That sprouted fingertips, the slick from snails
Where the butchered peasants were left to spoil:

Let it swirl, let it all swirl down the drain—
Let murderous grime be curlicues to gyre
Around the blackened mouth, let mortal bane
Be gulped, and waste be drink for bole and briar.

Here's a new-washed babe; marvel what man mars,
The flesh so innocent it gleams like stars.


This is by far my favorite of the batch, the only one with consistent surprises to my sensibility as a reader. For me, too many of the sonnets chosen are too similar in tone and subject matter--it seems a domestically lopsided ten and I found it hard to wax enthusiastic for any of them given their appearance all in one group. To put it frankly, I felt bludgeoned by tender nostalgia. Even the Mower's Song, which I like, doesn't rock my world in the monotonous company of the others.

My only reservation with this one is the construction around the word gyre, though it seems worth it for the rhyme with briar.

Nemo

Once again, our taste matches, Nemo. Love what you did with the epigraph. Couldn't live without gyre. What a poem - can't wait to see who wrote it!!!

This isn't a perfect sonnet (the epigraph isn't necessary, for example) but it's the one that I read and thought "I wish I had written that" and the one that I read and thought "I want to read more of this person's work."

It has an exuberance of language and a vividness of sound that I admire, and it isn't bound up in a rigid, pared-down, passionless sensibility.

Julie

Mary, I thought it was yours. I like what Nemo has done with the epigraph.

Pedro.

Well - ahead of the final result, in which the tide is clearly running elsewhere, I cannot resist having one last 'say' on this wonderful sonnet. This was a piece of sound theatre which stood out for me, as for you Nemo, not only by its language but also for its subject matter and tone. Apart from the witty "Calypso" and the less effective (for me) No. 3, I don't know if I felt "bludgeoned by tender nostalgia": I think my experience was more like being damply smothered by it - and this was such a purging contrast.

I did have one tiny 'nit'. Line 8 felt awkwardly stressed by the "the" before "peasants" and this definite article also seemed out of line with the generalities so far expressed which have moved from a specific witch to "a" queen, to whole categories, "soil" etc. So I would have preferred something like...

Where butchered peasants were still left to spoil:

However, a mere quibble amongst a sweep of the sonorously splendid - "gyre" especially included. The whole event was justified by this memorably wonderful poem alone. My respect and thanks to its author.

Interesting to consider the visual element and other factors as they might impact selection. Yesterday, when the sonnets were presented as a group, two of the ten (which were not in my top three picks) caught my attention more, not so much maybe that I would have placed them higher, but my assessment certainly changed a bit.

With a different title and no epigram, this can hold its own anywhere.

IMO, the present title and epigram only distract. But the poem is strong and bold and though it took me a long time to digest it, when I finally got my mind around it, I was shaken.

I like to think I would have grasped the essence earlier if not for the confusing title/epigram. That may be because it is a common expression in Swedish and I couldn't make the poem fit what the proverb means. So others may not have the difficulty I did.

To "throw the baby out with the bathwater" means to throw out the good with the bad, and the origin of the proverb is dubious, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Throw_o...the_bath_water

Janice, this is also the proverbial case in English.

Without wishing to anticipate the results, I think it's clear that this poem won't quite make it to the position that some of us think it (almost) deserves.

The first twelve lines are perhaps the strongest of any of the 10 finalists, but I think the final couplet is a bit of a let-down, and the title is disastrously off-putting - it sounds as if it's going to be some kind of jokey poem, which is far from the vividly grim reality.

Actually, Nemo, the epigraph was supposed to be in italics, but I
couldn't get them to work, and hoped the small print would be sufficient to set it off from the poem.

Janice, as I revise my poems over the years, your crits often prove true, though it takes me a while to see it. I think you might have a very good IMO here.