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Poetic
Self in the Poetess Tradition
One of the most important ways that poetess poetry differs
from Romantic poetry is in the poet's treatment and positioning
of the poetic speaker or "self." Romantic poems enable
the reader to identify with a strong central poetic speaker who
appropriates nature and the world as a vehicle for accessing the
poet's own emotions. In John Keats' "Ode to a Nightingale,
" for example, the speaker's self provides the sole locus of
subjectivity in the poem. Similarly, in William Cullen Bryant 's
"Thanatopsis," where a feminized Nature solaces the speaker
with her "voice of gladness," her "smile," and
her "healing sympathy," the existence of nature is refracted
through the lens of the poet's individual self. Poetess poems,
on the other hand, allow nature and the world a more independent
existence. Poetesses over the centuries developed several methods
to achieve a balance among subjectivities within their poems. Innovative
(from a Romantic point of view) approaches to metaphor played a
key role in this central achievement of Sentimentism.
Lydia Sigourney is typical of the Sentimentist poetesses in that
she rarely personifies or even metaphorizes natural objects in order
to make statements about her own feelings. Her poems are not organized
around a central poetic subject or ego, but instead attribute an
independent subjectivity, often conventionalized, to nature: “Then
the sea answer’d--”spoils are mine / From many an argosy, / And
pearl-drops sleep in my bosom deep, / But naught have I there for
thee.” They lend to natural objects voices and identities separate
from that of the speaker, who may even address them directly: “Yes,
we have need of thee; / thanks, tree of sympathy.” Perhaps because
the poetess, usually a woman, was used to being objectified herself,
the speakers in poetess's poems do not take on the role of objectifying
central bard. Significantly, the very few poems in which Sigourney
does use nature as a device to describe a central human state are
poems celebrating public institutions or involving male speakers,
such as the patriotic poem "Connecticut River" (P 13)
with its theme of "devotion" for the "fatherland,
" or "The Dying Philosopher" (SP 245), in which she
adopts the voice of a male persona.
In the work of early poetesses such as Sigourney, Christianity can
play a key role in the Sentimentist approach to nature. In such
poems, God takes on the role of the Romantic subjectivity, and the
speaker along with all the poem's human and natural characters are
equally objectified in relation to God‚—-called by Sigourney the
"One Dread Name." In a later, less religious poetess
such as Helen Hunt Jackson, other strategies allow nature its freedom.
One technique is for the poetess to assert the power to describe
nature, while in the same poem undercutting or contradicting her
own power. In Jackson's "The Wall-Flower of the Ruins of Rome,"
for example, the speaker attributes human qualities to the flower,
but the poem ends with a qualification: "the whole of thy
deep spell / I cannot fathom, and thou wilt not tell." Because
of such strategies, a reader of these Sentimentist poems takes away
not so much a sense of the power of the poet's self, as a sense
of that which Dickinson might call "Circumference": a
world of endless and equal entities in which the poetic "I"
is not necessarily more privileged than any other self.
An even more complex strategy of self-presentation occurs in the
work of some early-twentieth-century poetesses. Though the lyric
self and its emotions are an increasing concern of poetesses of
this period, the speaker of such poems does not express her emotions
by making metaphors about nature. Instead, she objectifies herself.
With the projected reader or listener taking on the role of the
lover, the speaker of such poems prevents the addressee from metaphorizing
her, instead making herself into a wave, a river, a storm, a candle,
or a tree, as in the following lyric by Sara Teasdale:
My
heart is heavy with many a song
Like ripe fruit bearing down the tree,
But I can never give you one—
My songs do not belong to me.
Yet
in the evening, in the dusk
When moths go to and fro,
In the gray hour if the fruit has fallen,
Take it, no one will know.
Sara Teasdale, “My Heart is Heavy” (1918)
Through the techniques of entering in dialogue with nature, the
qualifiication of lyric insights, and self-metaphor, the speaker
of a Sentimentist lyric refuses to act the part of the central bardic
Romantic poet-speaker. Instead the Sentimentist lyric enacts, through
the structure of its own voices, a communal and compassionate multiplicity
of subjectivities.
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