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<tr><td> <table background="http://www.fischerpassmoredesign.com/images/fab.gif" width=450 cellpadding=10 border=6 bordercolor=gold> <tr><td> http://www.fischerpassmoredesign.com/images/redbar.gif Vanity On a painting by Frank Cadogan Cowper Vanity is such a silly vice. She drapes herself in velvet and brocade. Her long blonde hair and rope of pearls cascade below her waist. She doesn't ask the price of cutwork oversleeves stiffened with braid or diamonds glinting on her hands and brow, not stopping to consider when or how or in what coin the piper must be paid. At first her upturned chin and downcast eyes suggest that she's embarrassed to be scanned, an icon of reserve and modesty-- until, on close inspection, you surmise she's glancing at the mirror in her hand. The man I live with thinks she looks like me. Susan McLean http://www.fischerpassmoredesign.com/images/redbar.gif </td></tr></table> </td></tr></table> |
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<tr><td> <table background="http://www.fischerpassmoredesign.com/images/fab.gif" width=500 cellpadding=10 border=4 bordercolor=gold> <tr><td> This ekphrastic poem is so good at what it does that I have the illusion of having seen the painting on which it's based, although I haven't yet. The details focused on are described in crisp, clear terms, in verse so deft and graceful it's a pleasure to follow, as when "the pearls cascade/below her waist," and that appearance of modesty is revealed to be a glance into the hand-held mirror. The form is beautifully used, and the final line tellingly separated, like the thought of the viewer who remembers, outside the painting, her private life and the comments of her lover. That final line opens up the poem to the reader: we're back in the world of the real now, beyond the frame, and the "silly vice" turns out to be one of those little fishhooks that enliven, tighten and embitter relationships. The first line acquires a new context--new meaning--when it's reread. And it remains ambiguous: is this "she" the model who posed for the painting, or the image of "Vanity" itself? One question: does the metrical risk taken with "stiffened" in line 5 pay off? I know the word really "stiffens" the line with that concentrated clump of consonants that wants to be a spondee, but would it be better softened to "made stiff"? That's less interesting, but draws less attention to that spot. Good thing or not? </td></tr></table> </td></tr></table> |
As we all know, Susan is an extremely epigrammatic artist. And it is fun to see her stretch her legs in this amazing sonnet. Rich in detail, perfectly balanced, it achieves its power through mouth-wateringly charged language. And a last line to die for, where that white space is, as Rhina observed, the ideal set-up. One of the best new sonnets I've seen in years, it should be a candidate for the Nemerov Prize. (I think I prefer made stiff.)
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Maybe "made stiff" instead of "stiffened"?
(Tim, we cross posted, and I didn't note that Rhina already said it. A consensus is building.) [This message has been edited by Roger Slater (edited December 20, 2003).] |
Great poem, Susan! Of course, the poem stands on its own, but the painting that inspired it can be found on the net at:
http://www.artmagick.com/paintings/painting1684.aspx |
It's startling the difference a small revision like "made stiff" makes in this. It's so much better.
Interesting contrast between her alleged modesty and her spendthrift ways, too: a provocative aspect of this sonnet. (Seeing the painting though, I can't agree she appears modest, even on first glance.) That vanity can be reprehensible, even destructive to oneself and others, is a truth contained in the painting and the sonnet (the painting has more of a sense of humor about it); however the sonnet intimates we all have this vice and, as unattractive as it is, in beautiful people it's much more understandable. (And this thought becomes irritating to me after a moment or two!) So I enjoy this as well for the discourse it opens on the quality of modesty (and/or vanity). I've been asking myself why I object to the final line. I understand the speaker is comparing, through her house-mate's opinion, her own vanity with that of the subject, but it seems as if the speaker's own reflection on her vanity (or lack thereof) is missing. Terese |
I love the way the lines and phrases work together and against each other. The first two lines are perfect end stopped sentences, and then in the third line we get an enjambment on the perfect word, "cascade," which pushes us cascading down to line four. Later lines have similar lovely effects. Finally, the last line, all single syllable words, is one of those sentences that would look utterly prosaic out of context but sings in its place.
RPW |
It's an interesting concept that using "stiffened" instead of "made stiff" stiffens the line, but in the end, for me, it just distracts from the thrust of an otherwise excellent portrait and fascinating final line.
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I don't know how I missed applauding this in TDE, but I like it just as it is.
On stiffened/made stiff, I seem to be in a minority of one, or two if we count Susan herself (who must have weighed the option). I don't think the change would be an improvement. The reversed foot there is no real problem in reading the line, and surely "stiffened" is the more natural, idiomatic way of saying it. Imagine the item described in a clothing catalogue, or a personal letter to a friend. Would anyone write "sleeves made stiff"? The general tone here is conversational; it's set from the first line and reinforced by the word choices throughout, including three contractions. |
I think I agree with Henry in that I prefer "stiffened" to "made stiff", for the reason that it does indeed, "stiffen" the line, as Rhina said, and I didn't find it distracting in the least. It's a small and slightly comic relief in a poem that is otherwise perfect standard IP, excepting the first line; and I liked the choice even more when I saw the painting, the subject of which does look rather stiff, coyly glancing down into the mirror.
I don't know why, but I was bothered a tiny bit by the headless IP line beginning the poem; but after a few reads that feeling went away, and now the first two lines seem perfect, with those soft v sounds making the strong f sound of "stiffened" even more effective. It's almost impossible to find fault with this sonnet. It's a pleasure to read and read over again. Bill |
I believe this is the correct painting, not the one that was posted earlier.
http://www.artmagick.com/paintings/painting2522.aspx |
I'm going to jump on the anti-bandwagon bandwagon also. "Stiffened" it is for me, too, primarily for the metrical reasons explained by Rhina, though secondarily I think Henry has made a good case for naturalness over "made stiff." At any rate, it had exactly the effect of "stiffening" the line that I think it was intended to have, and I like it very much, along with this whole poem. Quite outstanding, and serious congratulations are in order.
Chris |
Actually, both the links given in this thread lead to a painting called Vanity by Frank Cadogan Cowper, but it's not the same painting. It seems he painted this theme twice, first in 1907 and then in 1919, each time including a less-than-obvious mirror.
From some detail mentioned by Susan when this was discussed in The Deep End, I surmise that her very effective poem was inspired by the earlier version. |
of cutwork oversleeves stiffened with braid
reads as tetrameter, because "oversleeves" carries significant stress only on its first syllable. By itself the word is dactyllic, like "overalls" or "oversight." You'd have to promote "sleeves" to get a fifth beat, and that would work only if "over" and "sleeves" were two separate words. If they were two separate words, which would change the meaning, the reversed foot would indeed be pleasing: of cutwork over sleeves stiffened with braid Carol |
Quote:
Oliver. |
Oliver, the mirror in the earlier painting is hard to see, but her upper hand is holding the mirror's handle, and the mirror itself is just to the left of her hand. And, as Susan suggests in the poem, her eyes appear to be glancing down at it!
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Carol's point about the tetrameter line is a good one. Surprised that no one (myself included) notice it before. But "made stiff" would fix it, I think, introducing a nice ionic into the mix.
In L10, perhaps the "that" can be eliminated with "suggest she is embarrassed..."; though perhaps "is", which would draw a beat in that context, would be even flatter than an unstressed "that", come to think of it. I love the frames around the poems and Rhina's comments, by the way. |
I have been very grateful for Rhina's commentary and for the additional comments, particularly Sam Gwynn's alerting me to the existence of another painting also titled "Vanity" by the same painter. I will have to include the earlier date in the subheading to avoid confusion. I am reluctant to discard "stiffened" for several reasons, though I appreciate that the line scans more easily with "made stiff." Unlike Carol, I hear a secondary stress on "sleeves," so I think the line does still have five beats. I chose the word "stiffened" partly because it sounded most natural to me, partly because I liked the effect of the reversed foot reinforcing the meaning, and partly because I intended it to carry sexual overtones, tying it to "below her waist" and "in what coin the piper must be paid." I mean to suggest a connection between female beauty, male desire, and money, in which the jewels and rich fabrics have less to do with aesthetics than with market value--a kind of sign saying "for sale--expensive." Physical beauty is always appealing, but I am put off by the idea of women exploiting it to sell themselves (in marriage or any other way). So the foolishness of vanity, in the painting, is that I assume the woman in the picture either doesn't know or doesn't care where her primping will lead. Most people haven't commented on this aspect of the poem; I am assuming it is because they haven't noticed it, though perhaps they have thought it too obvious to deserve comment. I like my poems to operate at multiple levels, and this level is buried the deepest, I think.
Susan |
Susan I wanted to show you that the underlying meaning was appreciated from the start.
below her waist" and "in what coin the piper must be paid." I mean to suggest a connection between female beauty, male desire, and money, in which the jewels and rich fabrics have less to do with aesthetics than with market value--a kind of sign saying "for sale--expensive." From my first crit of this wonderful sly poem: "or in what coin the piper must be paid. [clever!]" Janet |
Tim wasn't exaggerating in the slightest when he termed this Nemerov material.
The various layers of meaning and intent are a joy and I couldn't agree more with Richard's comments about that last line- it's positioning and the rather self-effacing confession. All its other qualities have been deservedly praised, I just want to express my admiration to Susan and my thanks to Tim and Rhina. |
In addition to the downright cleverness of this poem, I admire Susan's "stiffened" stance toward all the impulses it has been subjected to, both here and at DE. There were several objections to "silly"; "stiffened" received a lot of criticism; and we were pretty evenly, if vociferously, split over the second twist of the knife in the last line.
I liked "silly" not for itself but because Susan deftly overthrew it - this is no goose but a vixen. I still cannot decide on the value of "stiffened" vs "made stiff", although both sides offer compelling reasons for their views. Neither do I really understand the last line with its subjective overlay on "thinks". Does the man think, or does the poet think the man thinks? And does he think the woman in the portrait looks or behaves like the speaker? I think I'm undecided because Susan has made it undecidable - and that's not a bad thing. As to the craft, I'll leave it to the more experienced to say how it stacks up for a Nemerov. I'll just say it's a sonnet on a par with the finest of Rhina Espaillat's or R.S. Gwynn's, both Nemerov winners as I recall. ------------------ Bill [This message has been edited by Wild Bill (edited December 22, 2003).] |
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