[R. S. Gwynn]

Cassandra

Because I turned him down, the god Apollo
cursed me with sight. The gift of art is not
the kind you can refuse. No matter what
you do or fail to do, the scenes will follow
you everywhere, assault you in your dreams.
Even if you could turn yourself to wood,
he'd force your hardened fingertips to bud,
and make a garland of your silent screams.
You don't believe me? Though I've heard you sneer
and call me crazy, still you'd have me offer
forecasts of the future. Apropos
of your young daughter, would you like to hear
what day she'll die and everything she'll suffer?
I thought not. No one really wants to know.


I applaud this sonnet, for one reason because I recently published a short sequence of six dramatic monologues spoken by women from myths. Technically, it seems very solid, and the couple of slant rhymes blend very well with the true rhymes. It is believable as speech. And I like the allusions to other women pursued by Apollo and their fates--nicely done!

Would "proffer" be better than "offer"?

My main problem is with the identity of the "you" in the poem. Since Cassandra's always going to be connected with her appearance in the Oresteia, I'd at first assume the "you" is the Chorus, with whom she famously interacts. But the singlular "daughter" throws me off here. The other choice would obviously be Agamemnon, but the death of Iphigenia was in the past, not the future. My next choice, then, would have to be that she's speaking to Klytemnestra about Elektra, but Elektra doesn't die, does she? I'm a little confused. Can someone straighten me out?

My gut feeling is that "daughters" and plural pronouns would avoid this problem. After all, she's already mentioned several other women who've come to bad ends because of the decidely mixed blessings of dealing with the god who controls fate. Plurals would get me back to the Chorus as "you."

[Robt_Ward]

Aside from Sam's issues with who the heck "you" is, I am bothered by the "silent screams", with its visual recapturing of the cliche'd painting and its reference to the anti-abortion film. I'd prefer to see "frozen screams" for this reason.

(robt)

[Tim Murphy]

Sam said of a poem I thought of including, "It's recognizably yours." To which I responded "Well, I should hope so!" This sonnet was unfamiliar to me when it got to my inbox, but I couldn't mistake it for the work of another writer. That's the case with most of these poems. I mean, could Rhina write Demon Rum, which you will see shortly? Could Catherine Tufariello? Hell, no. So it's cute to have this be a blind "competition," but with Sam making suggestions on improving the work, maybe the authors should come out of the closet.

[Roger Slater]

I get a deja vu feeling about this poem. I believe it appeared on Erato before.

My main issue is related to Sam's issue about "you," but perhaps from a different angle. By the last few lines, we are evidently dealing with a very specific "you" and his/her very specific "young daughter," and not a generic sort of "you" that really means "one." So, being literal minded, to me the final phrase of the poem means "no one really wants to know the day of your daughter's death," which isn't quite right. I think most people could stand to know the date of someone else's daughter's death, but not of their own daughter's death.

Anyway, changing the last phrase to something like "You don't really want to know" would solve my problem. Whether it sounds as good is another question.

Still, I like this sonnet very much. My favorite lines is "he'd force your hardened fingertips to bud", which is wonderful.

[Janet Kenny]

Love this one.
Is the person addressed, Daphne?

In the latter part, Daphne's father?

I absolutely love the ironical ending. I think the one to one is best for this interpretation of the character. Very Anthony Hecht.
Contending for first place in my judgement.
Janet


Cassandra

Because I turned him down, the god Apollo
cursed me with sight. The gift of art is not
the kind you can refuse. No matter what
you do or fail to do, the scenes will follow
you everywhere, assault you in your dreams.
Even if you could turn yourself to wood,
he'd force your hardened fingertips to bud,
and make a garland of your silent screams.
You don't believe me? Though I've heard you sneer
and call me crazy, still you'd have me offer
forecasts of the future. Apropos
of your young daughter, would you like to hear
what day she'll die and everything she'll suffer?
I thought not. No one really wants to know.



[This message has been edited by Janet Kenny (edited March 24, 2004).]

[Susan McLean]

I am grateful to Sam and others for pointing out problems that I hadn't seen. It had not occurred to me that anyone would assume that the addressee is the Chorus of Agamemnon. I don't picture Cassandra only in the context of that play. I meant the addressee to be an unidentified person who would represent any person (though I actually had in mind a resident of Troy who, for the purposes of the poem, had a young daughter). Since no one ever believed what she said, the addressee could be anyone, but I liked the shock of Cassandra's making the situation personal, in a very sinister way.

Robert, although I am bothered by the associations that "silent scream" evokes for some, of the anti-abortion movie, I hate to let that rule out the whole idea of a silent scream in a poem. For now, I think I'll keep it, but I'll keep my mind open for alternatives.

Roger, I hadn't realized that the last line could be read that way. I meant, of course, that no one wants to know the date of his or her own daughter's death. I will try to see if other people also read it the way you did.

Janet, Cassandra refers to Daphne's fate, but I didn't mean the addressee to be Daphne or her father. The "you" in this case was meant to be equivalent to "one." I'm not sure how to signal that I am using it this way, but "one" sounds rather stilted as a substitute. I'll keep thinking about it.

Thanks again for the responses.

Susan