Defeated but not undone Oct. 4, 2012
Of all the bitter poems she has posted over the last six
months, today’s was the most bitter, worse than just a sour grapes poem, more a
poem written by a wounded animal, snarling from the limited protection of its
den, ready to bite the fingers of anyone foolish enough to reach out to offer
her comfort or compassion.
This is a poem written by someone who has lost her game,
striking out, not just at a single adversary, but at a whole society she has
been forced to withdraw from, which she admits she did not fit in with in the
first place.
At first glance, you might mistake this poem as contrition since
she couches her message in a stack of seeming self-depreciating phases. But in
truth, this poem is full of defiance, as if she is giving everybody the middle
finger as she goes out the door.
There is not an ounce of contrition in this poem, no
admission of wrong doing, only the semblance of it which is more like an iron
fist in a velvet glove giving a sucker punch to those who have brought her to
this point of defeat, a poem full of rage and outrage, full of righteous indignation,
full of pain and a sense of betrayal.
This is not a Robert E Lee kind of gentleman’s surrender
after a good fight, but a begrudging persistently unrepenting Napoleon kind,
striking out even in defeat, condemning everybody but herself for what has
happened to her.
Although made to sound like contrition, this poem as the
same arrogance as her poem about forgiveness that she posted over the summer,
though instead of being poised in a position of triumph, she write this one out
of the ashes of downfall – an issue she herself raises in this poem when she wonders
about rising above, and asks if this is really “a defense total arrogance.” But
even in this, she refers likely to the arrogance of those who oppose her,
rather than her own.
While the poem is primarily told in a first-person singular
point of view, it opens and closes with “they” and “all of you,” as well as a
singular “you” which I assume is aimed at me.
The opening suggests she is taking action under duress. “They”
are telling her to do the right thing, even though there is another voice
inside her telling her that she gave up, was too weak to make it, and what she
wants is impossible to achieve.
She is asking a fundamental question: What makes her think
she can rise above (recover from) this and whether rising above is really a
defense against total arrogance – in other words, a reaction to others imposing
their will on her.
The poem is structured around four uneven stanzas, the first
describing her conflict with authority figures who are telling her to do the
right thing and her internal reaction seeing herself as a failure, not strong
enough to achieve what may well be impossible dreams.
The second stanza pans out as if a camera to a slightly longer
social aspect, of how she let down other people, she as the “bringer of bad luck,”
“harbinger of closed downness.” She sees herself as embracing what’s old, done
and over – repeating a pattern she has gone through before and now abandons yet
one more venture.
The third stanza questions her own motives, and perhaps the
life pattern itself, of rising above,” when perhaps her insecurity has caused
her to be defensive when confronted with arrogance.
The last stanza pans out again, looking at the wider world
she sees as “not right” because she can’t find a place in it.
Then, in a clear and perhaps mistaken self-evaluation, she
claims her efforts are not recognized “because I don’t have what it takes.”
She understands that she is in an “endless cycle”, but it is
because she has built this defense, barriers behind which she hides, “against
myself, against you, and against all of you who think you should give me
anything at all.”
This last line is among the most bitter in any of her angry
poems, condemning those who would condemn her, yet more importantly, casting
aside the so-called generosity of people she seems to see as hypocrites.
This rapid panning out from “myself,” to “you” to “all of
you,” highlights her continued defiance. She may be wounded. She may be
defeated. But she still putting up a fight. This is less a surrender than a
forced retreat.
“They” are imposing their will on her, and if there is any
sense of guilt in this poem it is for having brought bad luck on others who clearly,
she feels she has let down.
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