Please join us in this discussion of a new biography of Edna St. Vincent Millay. Have you ever wondered where she got such a name? The book tells you that and much more about this "flaming beauty."

There were several of you who requested this book to discuss, so

SIGN IN PLEASE!

Ella, I would love to read this book with the group. Count me in!

Oh, yes, definitely.

betty

I'll come and pay a visit. Couple of years ago I tood a Lit. class at the local community college and some of her poems (What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, and Where, and Why) and (Love Is Not All: It Is Not Meat Nor Drink) were discussed.

HELLO AND WELCOME HATS, BETTY AND BRUMIE!

Did you all notice that Harriet has agreed to be the Co-Discussion Leader for this book? Harriet is one of our newest Discussion Leaders and we are so tickled to have her and I am especially pleased that she wants to help us all out with this one.

I have just bought the book, it's still in the B&N package and it will stay there until after Christmas. Pretty busy with JOHN ADAMS at the moment but will be looking forward to this one.

Always looking forward to the next one. Harriet will be here to welcome all of you also.

Good to see you!

I have a site I would like to share with you all, if you all don't know it already.

This site includes poets and their poems. It is written in large letters.

www.poets.org

Hats, Betty and Brumie!!!

Many welcomes! I love seeing you all here. Brumie, that's a lovely site that you shared. Thank you. Please, all of you...feel free to share any other interesting sites you come across.

Here's a clickable to ease the way.

Poets Org.

I went to it and got caught up in exploring some of Millay's poetry. I couldn't resist bringing back a few lines from Millay's first book of poems: "Renascence, and Other Poems," published in 1917.

4. God’s World
  O WORLD, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!
Thy mists, that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
And all but cry with colour!
Millay sounds so young and fresh and joyous in this passage. Anyway, I've always thought autumn was a ravishingly beautiful time of year also, so I relate to her lines.

We'll have fun next March!

Harriet

Hello everyone. I just returned home from a lovely Thanksgiving three-day visit out of town and came in to see that Harriet has put one of Millay's poems here, but, for some odd reason, that poem makes me sad. However, Harriet felt it a joyous poem.

I can't explain my feeling other than when I read the first line, I thought for a moment it was someone's dying thoughts - "Oh, World, I cannot hold thee close enough."

And later, Millay expresses the thought that the "woods..ache and sag" - another sad expression, possibly of pain. Pain, be it physical or spiritual pain.

What were your thoughts on reading this poem?

Indeed, yes, we are going to have a great time, Harriet with this book and the poems!! I'm going to love it!

Sorry to say that my preparation for this discussion, buying the Complete Millay, will not be used, since SeniorNet Books & Literature has seen fit to schedule two discussions I want to participate in at the same time. I will be discussing Tale of Gengi instead. My loss, but I have little time for reading since i still work full time.

We are sorry, Mrs. W., that you will not be with us. It is difficult to make choices in what book discussion to participate in, I admit that is a problem for many.

However if we only had ONE book discussion a month as many sites on the Internet do, we would have people saying why don't you offer a nonfiction book more often as those are all I read, or why don't you offer romance or science-fiction or biography as I prefer those.

We cannot please all people all the time, although we do try. Our methodology has always been to ask for suggestions from our readers and if there are three or more people interested in a particular book, then one of the DL's will read the book, a date is selected and a header made, etc.

This book was suggested in the Non-fiction General/Genre Discussion and volunteer leaders have lives outside of Seniornet - really! The first date possible for the schedule was March. True also for the Tale of Gengi you mentioned. We are limited in the number of Discussion Leaders that are willing to do all the work necessary and it is work, believe me, it takes many hours as we read the book twice, study it in our attempt to ask meaningful questions, promote interest and engage the participants.

Hopefully we will meet in another discussion at some future date.

Ella or Harriet I might need your help on this! Found a wonderful site for Edna St. Vincent Millay which has many (I mean many - lots) of her poems. You will find it on University of Virginia - Electronics Text Center. The address I came up with HTTP://WWW.ETEXT.LIB.VIRGINIA.EDU. I hope someone can help me on this because when I typed in the address it didn't work. But when I typed University of Virginia I was able to find it.

Thanks

Thanks, Brumie. That address didn't work for me either, but I'll try to figure it out some more. Meanwhile, here's another interesting site that I found. It has extensive pieces from the work of many American poets, including Millay, and it's fun to play with.

American Verse Project - University of Michigan Humanities Text Initiative

American Verse Project

This is the total text of the poem God's World so that those who wish will have an opportunity to think about the interpretation.

GOD'S WORLD
O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!
Thy mists, that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
And all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag
To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, World, I cannot get thee close enough!


Long have I known a glory in it all,
But never knew I this:
Here such a passion is
As stretcheth me apart. --Lord, I do fear
Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year;
My soul is all but out of me, --let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.


Ella pointed out that she felt the expressed emotions are mixed rather than pure joy. I'm eager to begin reading the book. I'm anticipating that it will provide insights into this poem, and others also.

Harriet

Last week I got my book and I'm so very eager to read it! Since I've got other readings to do (other discussion) I must wait, wait, and wait!!!!!!!!!

Having lots of books (and discussions) to pick from is a wonderful problem to have. I hope we always have this "problem."

betty

Hahaha, I agree, Betty. If you have to have a problem, this is the one to have. Haven't seen you in John Adams lately, come-on-along, come-on-along, let me take you by the hand. Up to the man...lala tra lala

I will be joining the discussion and have just ordered my book to be ready. Since I am first going to do the Jury one.. will have my hands full.. But the Jury one is January 1 and hopefully will be done. I dropped out of the Will and Ariel Durant.. Just too many messages a day to keep up with.

Welcome to STEPHANIE!!

We're so glad to see you here. I'm looking forward to talking about our book.

Harriet

God's World was the poem I chose as a teenager to recite in my drama class ...I loved it then and I love it now. It seemed to express my own feelings about fall. Until my husband's death it was my favorite time of the year. Now it is spring for which I pine.

I knew how she felt because it always affected me the same way. What a beautiful time ..a golden gift before winter. I wanted to hug it close, to make it stay, at the very least to dawdle over its going.

The hot summer days were gone ( no air conditioning to ease the heat) and the bitter cold of winter had not arrived.What a great gift to have a glorious autumn. Each leaf was special and to see them was both undiluted joy and a tinge of pain.

I look forward to discussing ESTM because as a teenager I pictured her as a delicate flower. Pale with a faint fragrance. Now I find she was a heady flower, bold and daring.

looking forward to this very much...anna

MANY WELCOMES to ANNAFAIR!!

Autumn has been my favorite time of year for as long as I can remember. The trees ablaze with color, the vivid color tones of sky and grass, the unique feel of the sunshine and the scent of the air...they always make me dizzy with unspoken emotions.

Maybe poetry is the remedy designed to soothe the inner yearning that beauty creates. I'm looking forward too, Anna.

Harriet

ANNAFAIR! OUR OWN POETRY LEADER!

You have no idea how welcome you are! There are so many poems of Millay's in the book and some I like and understand and others are a mystery - and you are the one that can unlock their secrets to me and perhaps others!

Thank you so much for coming to the discussion and reading along with us.

ESVM - delicate and fragile she is in structure, yes! But I wonder how we will collectively describe her personality traits, her character!

This is going to be fun and I'm looking forward to it.

My book came and it looks wonderful! I won't begin reading until the middle of February....though I haven't been this anxious to begin a book in a long time. Nancy Milford is the best of the best biographers of complex women and those who write about the field of biography believe she, with the biography Zelda 30 years ago, changed how all biographies (lives) are written. Is there a big intro that covers all this (I just now wondered)? Oh, don't tell me, if there is. I don't dare go look or I might keep reading.

I'm glad Anna and others who know poetry better than I do will be here for the discussion. This is so exciting!! I get to wonderful poetry AND a great biography!

ö betty

I have always been interested in Vincent and now to read her book with others. I discovered her on my own and thought in high school that she was my very own secret person. Discovered of course in college that she appealed to all of us. I find her poetry accessible, so love it.

Oh my cannot miss this one - I will be very busy with Genji that also starts in March but this is a must - I have a book of her poetry that I often flip through and read but I know next to nothing abut her life. Yes, count me in even if I do not post every day.

WELCOME, WELCOME to BARBARA!!

I'm so glad you're joining us. Please visit as often as you can.

Enthusiasm is a contagious thing. Barbara. Betty, Stephanie, you're all spreading the joy of it to me and I'm getting more excited also.

As I read the book, I'm discovering that ESVM was an unconventional and independent lady. Sounds like we're going to have a wonderful time discussing her life and her poetry. It'll be great to have the opportunity to exchange opinions and perceptions about the poetess and her work.

Harriet

I am staggering along reading the book. since I will be gone the first week of the discussion. It is bike week down in our section of Florida and I refuse to stick around for the noise and confusion. We go away each year when they come to town. I wish they would stay in Dayton who wants them and away from New Smyrna Beach, that doesnt.

You'll be missed, Stephanie, and we'll be looking forward to your return. Have a good time.

Yesterday I was listening to some local radio, (I live in NJ) and I heard one of the broadcasters, Lynne Samuels, talking about Savage Beauty. She talked about how she adored poetry as a young girl in the 1960's. At that time she had seen Edna St. Vincent Millay as representing an inspiration to women of her generation. That was why she was eager to read Milford's biography.

Samuels said she thought the book itself was wonderful, as was Nancy Milford's writing, but she was astonished at the revelations about the up-close-and-personal Millay as a woman and human being. I was fascinated by her brief comments. It seemed to encapsulate many of the points about which we might want to talk and express varying points of view. It gave me a glimpse of the fun we can have talking about the many facets of ESVM.

Now, don't you forget us when you come back! Are you taking the book along with you for quiet moments? See you soon, Stephanie.

Harriet

I do not leave until March 2nd, and hope to have finished the first reading of the book by then. I love the book in some ways and dont in others. But we will discuss eventually.

Good morning to all and welcome to our discussion of SAVAGE BEAUTY.

TO BUSINESS FIRST: We have put the Discussion Schedule in the heading, are there any questions about it? We hope we can all stick together on these parts of the book as it enhances the discussion when we all are talking about the same time period and, conversely, it can completely ruin our discussion if someone posts about the ending of EM's life.

Of course, we are also hoping that we will respond to others' posts and get a good dialogue going among ourselves and if you disagree with another's opinion, for heavens sake, SAY SO! We want everyone's opinion, be it good or bad about our subject, our poet, or anything in the book!

This is a huge book, a wonderful book, and we can take as long as we please to discuss it - if we are going too fast or too slow, let us know and we'll take appropriate action. That is what Harriet and I are here for - to guide the discussion into channels that will work best for the majority; otherwise we are just participants and our opinions carry no more weight than any other person in the group.

---

We will be putting up questions in the header from time to time - and perhaps you will have some that we can add for all of us to consider as we wend our way through the book.

If there are any lurkers - possibly those who love EM's poetry but do not have the book - do post anyway and tell us your favorite poem or respond to any post. You are always welcome here!

We have Anna - our Discussion Leader who heads up our General Poetry Corner - and thank goodness she will be helping Harriet and myself. I'm not good at understanding poetry - for instance, this poem from whence the title of this book came:

I am waylaid by Beauty. Who will walk
between me and the crying of the frogs?
Oh, savage Beauty, suffer me to pass,
That am a timid woman, on her way
From one house to another!


Now that's a challenge! What do you think of that poem? How do you interpret it?

Later, e.g.

Edna St Vincent Millay was such an interesting person and I look forward with pleasure to being part of this discussion. Because I think the readers should have first say about any poem or passage I will refrain from saying what I think first.

And Ella and Harriet and all others I would like to say Poetry is in the eye of the beholder. You bring to poetry your own background and your own expierences and everyone will see something different in what the poet has said. SO DO NOT FEAR to say what you think.

We are off on a wonderful journey through the heart and mind of very interesting person. Enjoy!....anna

OK.. Here goes. I was intrigued in the first part of the book about Vincent's family. The women seem to have strong minds, but weak hearts about the men in their life.. Vincent seems to have been a precocious child in many ways, but some of it is memory and some of it is true. At least that is the way it seems to me. I have problems believing her statement of running into Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" and being that struck at a very early age. On the other hand, Vincent was writing poetry and short stories at such an early age. I find myself extremely uncomfortable with her Mother. Not my cup of tea at all. I also find the prologue interesting because of the sister. Another person that I simply do not believe at all at this point.

Good morning!

Ella and I are so eager to exchange thoughts and interpretations with all of you about this complex and charismatic woman. Let's dialogue together about her contradictory personality traits...her bravado and her vulnerability...and most of all, let's enjoy her poetry together and share the emotions they engender.

Temporarily, I'll jump ahead just a bit, but only in order to bring EM's childhood years into better focus. On p. 80, a twenty year old EM is challenged by a newly met Arthur Ficke who tries to pigeonhole her visual imagery and understand how someone of her age could produce lines of poetry so vibrant and fresh. In response to his patronizing questions, EM writes him that:

"there are vastly fewer 'accidents of composition' than one might think. I never get anything from a book. I see things with my own eyes, just as if they were the first eyes that ever saw, and then I set about to tell, as best I can, just what I see.

Those lines bring an interesting focus to the perspective of the lonely little girl who, many years earlier, made up songs in the absence of her mother from the family home. In fact, while away on sleep-over jobs, mother Cora suggested that her daughters make up songs and rhymes to ease their adult-type housekeeping duties, and to think about how they were doing this to "please mamma." Little Vincent had the skill and brains and she complied. From p.4.

I'm the Queen of the Dish-pan.
My subjects abound.
I can knock them about
And push them around,
And they answer with naught
But a clattering sound;
I'm the Queen of the Dish-pan,
Hooray!

From her earliest years, EM was cheeky? Sassy? Loved her mother deeply? And most of all, was she developing the power to see the world in HER particular way?

Harriet

Hello, just wanted to make a few comments about this book. I started reading it last week, but took it back to the library yesterday as I was rather disappointed. The reason I say this is because I would rather have read the story of her life without poetry on nearly all of the pages. It kept taking me away from her personal life which I thought was the point of the story. Perhaps if they had published part of the poems at the back of the book after her life story, it would have made for a more interesting read. I must say though that she seemed well ahead of her time in the way that she wrote. Perhaps some other time, I will go back and finish the book. Looking forward to reading what others have to say about this. Marlene

Hi Stephanie, just saw your comment as I posted mine.

I also have many mixed feelings about Cora Millay. Even Cora herself expressed some concerns about how she had brought up her children in a letter that she wrote in Paris, while traveling with EM, later in the book. She undoubtedly had an enormously strong influence on ALL of her girls, for good and for ill. It might be interesting to consider some of these influences as we gradually progress through the book. I look forward to your opinions.

I also agree that one of Nancy Milford's toughest jobs had to be separating Norma's facts about EM from emotional interpretations resulting from both sisterly rivalry AND her pride in EM's accomplishments.

You've zeroed in on fascinating points, Stephanie.

Harriet

Oh my, I keep on missing new posts while I'm composing my own comments.

Marlene, many, many welcomes!

Please remain and lurk with us. Maybe you'll feel an urge to join in again. You'll surely always be welcome.

I haven't read much poetry, Marlene, but I do feel that the writing of any author, poetry or prose, may hold within it the kernel of who that author is and also, who he aspires to be. If that's true, the poetry of EM may be uniquely capable of shedding light on aspects about her as a human being. There are lots of her poems that I have trouble figuring out...but that provides part of the fun.

Sometimes many minds with different ideas about the meaning of one poem, can succeed in reaching a cumulative truth that is unattainable in any other way.

Come join the party, Marlene! Please give us your opinions, regardless of whether you loved, hated, or were indifferent to EM and her poems. We're eager to hear.

Harriet

and take a chance. I'll be the first to dive right into Ella's initial quote from the poem Savage Beauty in her post #28.

I am waylaid by Beauty. Who will walk
between me and the crying of the frogs?
Oh, savage Beauty, suffer me to pass,
That am a timid woman, on her way
From one house to another!

Edna St. Vincent Millay has keen emotional sensibilities, so that the beauty of the world catches her spirit with a sense of poignancy as well as exhilaration...perhaps the type of response she has is where something wonderful can produce tears of joy...and the pleasure may be so intense that it spills over into pain? "I am waylaid by Beauty"...

I've felt such things, but maybe not with the same impact and ferocity as EM.

Perhaps the lady protests the assault that her own reactions to beauty make upon her soul. She needs a buffer zone to stand between her own chaotic responses to beauty and the impact of her emotions? ,,,"Oh, Savage Beauty, suffer me to pass, that am a timid woman..."

But the image of ..."the crying of the frogs"... has me wondering. Any ideas?

Is she is caught between the contradictions of her poetic genius and her need for a quieter pathway of life?

Agree? Disagree? Opinions? Additional interpretations?

Harriet

Oh, MARLENE do get your book back, this is a fascinating story of an unconventional woman who was talented beyond compare, and that word "unconventional" hardly describes this lady.

Stick with us - we have ANNA here to interpret the poetry! As I have said, and you have noted, the poetry can be difficult (some of it), but EM could not have supported herself and others without this talent! She was very fortunate in many ways and unfortunate in others.

For example, her MOTHER and the part she played in EM's development.

Don't you believe they (mother and daughter) were engaged in a love/hate relationship? In many respects they were very much alike and I'll quote some qualities each had in common:

impulsive, possessed of a driving force, both wrote poetry and kept journals, both attached to family

There are many more, but that will enable us to get started.

Do you agree that EM's mother, Cora, had a great influence on her throughout her childhood even though she was not in the home much?

Hi Harriet! We were posting together, I think the book had a keen effect on both you and I and we are eager to hear other's opinions.

Your interpretation of the poem is fine with me - as stated, I'm going to leave that up to others!

WELL, GOL-LEE! WHERE IS EVERYBODY?

Is it just going to be Harriet and I and Anna here?

Well, there's the three of us and, Anna, won't you give us your version of that poem that Harriet quoted? The two words, "savage" and "beauty" make me think of a tiger who is both, but other than that I haven't a clue!

Meanwhile, maybe the other folks that wanted to discuss this book will wake up and decide that March lst is here and will put in an appearance?

HOPE SO! It's such a good book!

When we try to interpret a poets poem we need to remember that words are how they express emotions. I dont think they mean for the words to be as important as what they are saying about what the poet is feeling. I hope that makes sense.

I equate savage to wild.. In all of her writings she is affected by nature. And nature is unpredictable, often wild and savage and she lived in a area where she was ice skating in a kitchen flooded by water once in awhile. Most children have a mother to protect them from such adventures and I think EM wanted to be protected. Instead she has to be the protector of her younger sisters when she herself had need of protection. She sees herself as timid and frail and asks for someone to keep her from her wild and unpredictable nature.

Now I also say whoever reads poetry or writes it brings their life expierences to the reading. So all of us can see this differently. And all be right! Now that has to be consoling. anna

Cora Millay needed to work to support her daughters so it is hard to judge her. Her work took her away from the home and while I cringe to think of these three young children left alone I am not sure I can fault her either.

The mother tried to keep in touch with the girls through her letters and advice and I have to beleive she would have preferred to be with them then off somewhere.

Her absence made her daughters and especially EM both resourceful and independent and needy for some one to care for them.

anna

Hi ANNA, do you, or anyone else, have any associations for the line about "the crying of the frogs"...? I'd be very interested.

Harriet

Hi! I'm here but behind in reading.

About Cora I have found her cold and strong willed. The advice she gave to her mother about leaving home for another man (Cora saw her mother "grieving hopelessness over the maelstrom she was being sucked into"). Her father finds her mother not there and Cora tells him the truth "Dazed, he glanced around the room. He heard his sons weeping, looked into Cora's face, and began to cry." The reason behind all of this is her love for her mother.

I think someone posted that they felt there were too many poems and not enough about the person. I thought that over a bit and came to the conclusion that poems do tell you something about that person. I'm one of those people who have a hard time understanding poems. Hope to learn from you all.

I also found EM clash with her principal interesting. She was inquistive and that is good. I can understand how the principal "felt like she was challenging him." Just like the book said "It was her determination that drew attention."

Glad to see you, BRUMIE!

BRUMIE, I also thought that Cora was cold and self absorbed, initially. It wasn't that Cora worked and left the children alone in the house, because, as ANNA pointed out, she HAD to earn a living for her family as best she could. It's the reversal of the parent-child relationship that keeps on surprising me. I'm used to the idea that parents feel responsible for their children, but there is an opposing theme recurring again and again in the book, while EM is still a young child.

EM and her sisters felt RESPONSIBLE for easing their mother's life and taking care of her. They did their household chores to please their mother and made up songs to earn her approval. They felt they OWED her for her hard life on their behalf, an unusual attitude for modern children. Cora would remind the children that various chores would become easier for them if they firmly kept in mind that they were PLEASING their mother. Cora later commented that she wanted her daughters to understand the reality of their poverty.

Do any of you agree that EM, like her mother, also began to feel a sense of entitlement for HERSELF as she grew older, that the world owed HER recognition and privilege? Is it possible that she absorbed this attitude from her mother and made it part of her own personality? EM was to become SUCH a combination of confidence and neediness and personal charisma.

Harriet

Thank you, Anna, that helps, I think - equating "savage" to wild, yes, I can understand that. Keep going, I, and a few others I think need and want to learn more about poetry! Now what about the "frog" that Harriet inquired about? I do remember the floods that came into the Millay home which, as the author states, "was the smallest house in the poorest part of town, but it was one their mother could afford when she brought her girls to Camden after her divorce.""

What a bleak childhood the Millay sisters had - not even a pretty curtain -"Not everyone in Camden agreed with the way the Millays lived………they had shades at their windows and nothing else. I don't think they cared much."

Brumie - I agree with you that Cora, EM's mother, was a cold woman for the very reason that you stated! Separating your parents as she did with no remorse is, to say the least, unusual and unconventional, and I thought that Norma, in her conversation with the author, was very defensive about her mother. We have here a woman with three small children and with no visible means of support, telling her husband to get out of her house and her life - and this at a time, the early 1900's, when it was difficult for a woman to find work outside the home! Was she brave or just foolish, I can't quite make up my mind about her.

Can you imagine what it must have been like for these children to be without a mother (or a father) for most of the time while they were growing up and, of course, Edna, being the oldest felt the burden of taking care of the younger.

"Vincent drifted into another life in the world of books and dreams." Is it any wonder!

At only one time in her life would Edna Millay write of her childhood and what is was like to be alone and afraid (on page 37) and what can we make of the fact that she wrote passively, never stating that it was "my" or "our" life?

Harriet, that's an interesting question - "Do any of you agree that EM, like her mother, also began to feel a sense of entitlement for HERSELF as she grew older, that the world owed HER recognition and privilege? I hadn't thought of that and must give it consideration as I review the book. I'm going to put that in the heading as a question for us to consider as we continue reading.

Harriet and Ella, appreciate your post(s). You've got me thinking. I needed that and I'll be back.

I think we need to remember the house in which they lived was near water and since the only way to get to it was on a wooden walkway it would suggest there was water there most of the time. I would think there would be lots of frogs and while I havent heard an army of frogs croaking I have heard hundreds of crickets in the grass when I was vacationing on the Outer Banks.

I think you can say they were crying and they certainly gained your attention. I know I hated to pass them by and always stopped to listen. I see EM doing the same ..listening to the frogs and they hold her attention. Later in God's World she is so taken with nature and in my opinion she is feeling that with the frogs. She has other things she needs to be doing and perhaps since the girls are often alone she is afraid to stay too long and listen to the frogs or anything else ...so she begs to be allowed to move on. Remember we are told she has an aunt near and she may be going back and forth between them.

The frogs and the beauty of nature ( and where she lived it would be wild) is waylaying her...she craves safe passage.

I know I am only 5' and when young very slight in weight as well. I have felt a certain amount of anxiety in life where I wanted to just enjoy something but was afraid to stay too long.

I am not sure EM felt entitled in anything but being short I can tell you if you are not aggressive and demand that people respect you will be a victim of everyone. NO ONE WAS GOING TO KEEP HER BACK IN ANYWAY. LOL since that has always been my attitude I understand her well.

anna

Oh, ANNA that does help - yes, I'm beginning to understand - the crying of the frogs (I, too, have always heard that frogs croak but I'll take Edna's word for it that they cry! Haha

Somewhere in the book the author states that Edna writes only of nature, love and death! Is this true do you think, Anna, and the rest of you????

But what comes to mind about Cora and Edna (I keep calling her Edna, easier for me to type I guess) is the word "reckless." And again that word is associated with wild perhaps. Cora was certainly reckless when she encouraged her mother to leave the family, and there are plenty of episodes in Edna's life depicting recklessness.

Was she beautiful do you think? So the author took this phrase "Savage Beauty" to describe Edna, is that what we are to assume?

But what of the rest of the poem, Anna?

That am a timid woman, on her way from one house to another!

You believe Edna was timid and she did go to her aunt's house from her own house often? - I'M BEGINNING TO UNDERSTAND! WONDERFUL!

Stick with us, Anna, and we all may begin to appreciate poetry and visit your Poetry Corner one of these days!!!!!

BRUMIE - YOU STICK WITH US TOO - WE ARE ALL LEARNING TOGETHER HERE!

One more thought, Anna, and then I will shut up - this poem, then, is very personal. She's both in love with the wild beauty of nature and fearful of it, but if a person did not know of her circumstances-the water behind the house that flooded and her fear of it- then how could one interpret it?

In poetry, does one need to study the author's life in order to understand the verses?

Now, I'm off to my bro-in-law's to attend his 80th - yes, 80! - birthday party. His wife, my sister, died 4 years ago but Johnnie is still living in the same house and doing well! Amazing - well, what is even more amazing is that I have an elder sister still that is 78 and still working 25 hours a week - and SHE DOESN'T TAKE ONE PILL! Not one! Excellent health! I'm envious of her all the time, she's so mentally alert and active for her age!

But I cannot get her on the computer (and she loves to read). Her husband, I believe, is the reason for this - he's had one for several years and attempted to teach her - HAHA - we women know how men are - imagine if your husband was the one to teach you to drive!!! Would you have learned?????

I'm beginning to understand why Cora was so bold to tell her mother to leave home and that is they (Cora and her mother) did not have a mother-daughter relationship but one of daughter-daughter. Could this be the reason Cora treated her daughters the way she did?

On pg. 9 the question is "But who is Cora?" To me it is this "...I let the girls realize their proverty. I let them realize what every advantage cost me in the effort to live." She was tough!

Since I haven't read too much in the book I see EV very lonely and in some ways different than Cora (?).

Well, Ella there ARE variations of interpretation in poetry and in people. I don't think I would ever use the word "timid" to describe Edna. Oh, I believe she ASPIRED to the early 1900's feminine ideal of sweet, timid, shy femininity. In chapter 6, she writes of a fantasy lover in her diary, and sees herself as a timid, shy, romantic girl through HIS eyes as she goes to him with love.

"My eyes are very sweet and serious. My mouth is wistful. I drop at your feet and lay my head at your knee. My braids touch the floor. You kiss my wistful mouth. Oh, I adore you!"

But when she leaves the safety of her fantasy world, her real life relationships will assume more of the tone of her poem, "Witch-Wife" on p.135. The poem is something of a self portrait, and the final four lines are:

"She loves me all that she can,
And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man,
And she never will be all mine."

In real life, Edna did not concede fear. Even as a child, she bore her vulnerabilities and loneliness in secrecy, revealing them rarely and to few people. She is defiant against loss and pain, resorting to smiles, coyness and manipulation to have her way. Her Sunday school teacher describes her: "She had lots of spark and spunk; she fairly snapped."

Charisma was Edna's main weapon. Everyone who had contact with her felt her personal magnetism. She exuded the aura effortlessly.

Harriet

Brumie, hi. Our messages crossed. I'll get back a bit later to talk. Love your comment, but I have to go out for a bit.

Harriet

Poetry is not just words...it is how the author FEELS ..it really all about emotions. Some phrases may sound obscure unless you do know about the writer. However to understand a poem doesnt mean you need to know the background of the author. and I must confess I have argued this point with some teachers of poetry. They feel to understand the poem you have to understand where the author is coming from..But I see poetry like a painting..We can both look at the same portrait or painting and it will mean something different to each.

We can examine her poems but we wont understand why she wrote unless we know about her..BUT we bring our own understanding and our own background to any reading of poetry. Unlike a story that is supposed to be fiction and you know that poetry regardless if it is fiction also reveals the heart of the writer. I really dont think it possible to write poetry without digging into your own feelings. Any who are poets among us please tell me what you think. That is my personal feeling. It is why some poems reduce me to tears and others leave me wondering and questioning.

AND please remember these are my opinions and the reasons why I write poetry. ...anna

Annafair, like your post.

BRUMIE, I was fascinated by the identical sentence that you quoted about Cora and poverty, and it stuck in my memory also. She WAS tough. Cora sacrificed a great deal for her daughters, but she expected their appreciation, acknowledgement and admiration for her efforts.

Even though she was a mostly absentee mother, don't you feel that Cora wielded enormous influence? She succeeded in turning her daughters toward a love of reading, poetry and creativity. Yet somehow, in the process, Edna became overly needy for her mother's approval. I thought that a strange tug-of-love interdependence was set up.

ANNA, would you say that poetry is a communication of the heart and emotions about deeply felt things? I can sense how much you care and I'm so glad you're with us. I would enjoy all of us dialoging about various interpretations of poems from time to time.

Harriet

Ella, what a marvelous post...crammed full of things to think about! What a pleasure it is to begin consideration of some of your points. I'll need some time to think and write.

For starters, the speculation about the roles of environment vs. genes in the development of an individual has been often debated, and is still an ongoing issue. I was fascinated by some scientific studies that I read about identical twins that been separated at birth through adverse circumstances, and then reunited in adulthood. The implication of the studies, if I remember it accurately, was that there were a great many similar personality characteristics in the twins, even though they had been raised in different environments.

Score one-up for genes.

Is it possible that the passion for literature, the willfullness, the creativity and determination, and even perhaps, the personal magnetism of Edna St.Vincent Millay...how right you are, Ella; what an absurd name!...had been filtering through the genes for three generations of Edna's female forebears, and had finally culminated to an apex in herself? But is that enough to produce a complete poet? Perhaps it was also Cora's strange parenting that produced the final crucibles that honed Edna's capabilities.

For example, when Edna was eleven, Cora, despite all their money problems, gifted her with a subscription to St. Nicholas magazine. This was a remarkable literary publication for children. It published quality authors for children to read and encouraged literary endeavors from their young readers of 18 years and below. Cora submitted some of Edna's poetry and, in this way, provided for her daughter the first heady experiences with literary praise. Edna's works were always signed E. Vincent Millay.

Since Cora did the first submissions for Edna, how much input did she have about the way her 11 year old daughter signed her unusual name? Was Cora consciously trying to provide her daughter with the advantage of being thought to be a boy in the eyes of St. Nicholas magazine? Was she manipulating the "man's world" of the early 1900's for her daughter's benefit? Was it SHE that thought up the signature of E. Vincent Millay? Did that help her little budding genius?

Isn't it interesting that Edna chose to retain that form of signature until after she was 18? And didn't she create a sensation when she later began including her photo with submissions of her poetry to editors?! The "boy" then became the famous "girl poet."

Score one-up for environment also?

More later.

Harriet

I love reading all the posts here and how reading the book affects each of us. I understand or at least I think I do the interaction between the mother and her daughters. I had a wonderful blessed childhood and must confess my true appreciation only came late in life when I met those who suffered poverty, handicaps and abuse. You always think whatever kind of life you live is normal if you have nothing to measure it against.

I understand Cora's desire for appreciation of what she did to raise her children. Even as a stay at home mother I expected my children to appreciate the things we did for them. Raising children is no small sacrifice and I see nothing wrong in letting your children know appreciation is expected. If it is done well everyone benefits.

While I suspect Cora was in competition with Edna she was also living her life through her daughter. And I would think Edna and her sisters feared losing the mother.They lost their father and had a double need of keeping their mother in thier lives.

Edna had to have a native intelligence and ability but they were encouraged by her mother. I am sure you must know someone or heard of someone whose gifts were ridiculed by a parent or someone importatnt to them and who never reached their full potential because of that. I think even in those who succeed in overcoming a negative if you look you will find someone else who encouraged them to find success.

I too find the story could have benefited by a more straight forward telling instead of fast forwarding and replaying

Good poetry and I dont mean that which some call good, I feel always reflects the poets deep feelings. Some poets use obscure words or ways of speech because they wish to hide their feelings. They are moved to write but then dont want to invite everyone inside their mind and soul. Edna was very open about her feelings ...she almost flaunts some of them.

Life with her would never be dull and boring> I think that explains some of her attraction.

I love the question why would anyone name a child for a hospital? Why would someone name their child John and call him Jack? I have known people ( in fact all of my mothers siblings were named from novels my grandmother read) My own mother was named Annie Irvine ..from some book my grandmother read.

I have friends who have been named Richmond, Houston, Montreal, Carmen and Beverly for boys. It took a life time of Debbies, Valeries, Jeanies, Bettys, Patricias, etc for me to appreciate the name Anna ...It is so simple but when I was young I longed to have a more distinctive name. So St Vincents doesnt strike me as being odd but a desire to have your child stand out from birth.

I have read the whole book in preparation for this but feel I need now to re read and search for clues to the whole family.

anna

Great post everyone. Anna, my mother's name is Anna and I have a special place in my heart for the name Anna.!!!

One other thing about EM she did not have a childhood - she missed it . Ella your comment about complex women I agree.

I'll be back later.

Anna, the poem The Suicide (pg. 55). First time I read it it sounded like EM was angry with her mother probably because it was slashed in pencil on the back of one of her mother's letter. But also angry with life. What are your thoughts?

EM says (pg. 53) that boys don't like her because she won't them kiss her. "But I'd be almost willing to be engaged if I thought it would keep me from being lonesome..." The man who sees her on the third of every month - Milford says "It is only when she begins Her Book that we grasp how much she needs this idealized male...Her book begins with a poem." I want to pull out one sentence "My life is but a seeking after life..." When I read all of this I wondered if it was a substitution for her mother?

When I read Homing it made me feel lonesome.

I hope you all understand what I'm trying to say if not clear excuse. You might say her poems make me sad.

Oh,BRUMIE! You're as clear as clear can be. You're reacting to Millay's poetry with feelings. I truly enjoy reading your reactions.

I''ve just gone back to the book to reread Homing p.40, and The Suicide p.55, and I do agree that both poems seem to relate to Edna's mother. In one poem I thought she felt tenderly toward her, and in The Suicide she most certainly did not. ANNA, ELLA, do you feel The Suicide relates to her mother?

Norma said that Edna had a wild temper and emotional swings, Wow, seems true in The Suicide.

ANNA, I occasionally audited the Curious Mind discussion during the past month. Whenever I read your posts, you struck me as a woman of sensibilities AND sensibleness. Your current posts continue to strike me in that way and I love reading them.

I hope you, and everyone else in this discussion keeps the comments coming.

Harriet

Harriet, what good questions! And you give us much to think about also:

"Since Cora did the first submissions for Edna, how much input did she have about the way her 11 year old daughter signed her unusual name? Was Cora consciously trying to provide her daughter with the advantage of being thought to be a boy in the eyes of St. Nicholas magazine? Was she manipulating the "man's world" of the early 1900's for her daughter's benefit? Was it SHE that thought up the signature of E. Vincent Millay? Did that help her little budding genius?"

Quite possibly! And another good thought from Anna (whose name I also love, it belonged to a great-aunt of mine and I still see her in my mind when I see that name - you don't hear it much today):

"While I suspect Cora was in competition with Edna she was also living her life through her daughter. And I would think Edna and her sisters feared losing the mother.They lost their father and had a double need of keeping their mother in thier lives."

Don't all mothers - in some way or other - live their lives through their daughters, steering them away from the mistakes that they made? Of course, it seldom works, but we do it anyway!

And BRUMIE - you are right on the mark when you said "she (EM) did not have a childhood - she missed it" And, yes, we understand exactly what you mean, her poems are sad, many of them, and as Anna said, she puts her whole self, all of her emotions into them. Thanks for putting the page numbers in your posts, that's easy to refer back to and I'm going to type in that poem that you quoted. I know there are possibly a few people who are lurking, not posting, and may not have the book, so here's that poem:

My life is but a seeking after life;
I live but in a great desire to live;
The undercurrent of my every thought:-
To seek you, find you, have you for my own
Who are my purpose and my destiny.
For me, the things that are do not exist;
The things that are for me are yet to be….
In perfect understanding I shall come
And lay my hand in yours, and at your feet
Sit, silent, with my head against your knee.

The author believes this is a teenager's longing for a "love that would alter her life," but it's more than that I think, but I'm not competent in language to put into words what I feel - as Edna Millay does so well! It's sad, BRUMIE - I agree.

And what of this poem written about the same time:

Dark, Dark, is all I find for metaphor;
All else were contrast;-save that contrast's wall
is down…..where night
And day, and frost and thaw, and death and life,
Are synonyms.

Death and life synonyms - whew! Heavy, heavy stuff and for a teenager!!! I wouldn't even try to gauge her emotions here.

ANNA, WHAT DO YOU THINK?

Later, e.g.

P.S. Harriet - I'll go back to that Suicide poem tomorrow - and this was written during the same time period I believe. Complicated young lady, indeed yes!

I was playing with the Poets Org. site that Brumie so kindly contributed to us back last November, and I found the complete text of The Suicide . The poem is longer than I was aware of. Anyone who is interested is welcome to click on the title, which is a link to the poem. You lurkers out there who may not have the book, please join us in enjoying Millay's work with the help of the provided links. Another website with the works of Millay and other poets is American Verse Project . We welcome your comments.

I wonder if the total poem will have the same feel as the excerpt in our book? It's now the wee hours of the morning in NJ, and I'll have to check this all out more carefully tomorrow.

G'night all.

Harriet

Last night I returned to the book and I found that her father always addressed letter to her a E Vincent Millay. So I am not sure the mother chose that but E may have decided since her father addressed her that way she preferred it. There is so much in this book and because it sort of skips about I think it requires re reading to get the gist of it. Also in the beginning it would seem Cora found someone to baby sit the girls. And the father was a gambler and that seems to be one reason why Cora told him to leave. I have a brother in law ( my husband's sisters husband) who has always gambled. Thank goodness there were no children because only once in their 50 years of marriage did they own a home and that because my sister in law inherited money for the down payment. It was for only five years and after that they have rented rather dilapadated places. He has sold just about everything and at 77 is in debt up to his eyeballs. So I fully understand Cora asking him to leave.

That is was a charmer is evident but charmers are often irresponsible. I think she felt she could manage best without supporting him as well. Considering she earned about a dollar a day for all of her work it seems incredible to me she was able to manage at all even in those times.

Teenagers often fantasize about their future and their hopes. Death is also something they began to recognize as inevitable. So it doesnt surprise me she writes about death. I think her thoughts are very poignant and very very sad. And since I am a senior they are very close to some of my own thinking. I wrote a poem myself a few years ago that started " the years stretch out and we know we have fewer than we have left behind...parents, siblings, friends and spouse we are the last of the long grey line....etc ....I cant recall the rest but it says something to the effect that death once our enemy is now our friend...and we dont wish to hurry it but we accept it and hope that when the end comes we have someone with us to hold our hand and hear the last farewell of the meadow lark....

just thinking this am...anna

How very moving I found your thoughts on death, ANNA. Your thoughts resonated with me. Sometimes, in quiet moments, I also have considered how the older generation that USED to exist as a buffer between myself and death in my youth, are no longer with us. Now it is I who am in the front lines of time. You said it so beautifully. Thank you for the sharing.

What a lot of relevant information you found in your reading. Henry, Cora's husband, often wrote his daughters about the money he soon expected to have. He was always promising to send financial help for the girls, but that never seemed to actually happen. He was not such a responsible man. In the end I suppose that husbands who don't produce money, but CAN produce babies might be a high maintenance proposition to support in a poverty stricken household.

Did anyone have a chance to read the total poem of The Suicide? I was surprised to see how the "feel" of it changed as it continued. Did the tone gradually blend from anger, to self pity and regrets, to a kind of contentment as the narrator rests from the stresses of Life...to finally an affirmation of life? And the last two lines were almost like a surprise O. Henry ending?

At the end of the poem the narrating voice asks her generous Father for an opportunity to introduce some worthwhile work into her now idyllic and gentle environment because she misses the motivated tasks she knew during her lifetime. Her answer from the Father is:

"My fairest gardens stand
Open as fields to thee on every hand.
And all thy days this word shall hold the same:
No pleasure shalt thou lack that thou shalt name.
But as for tasks--" he smiled, and shook his head;
"Thou hadst thy task, and laidst it by," he said.

You know, even as I read this, I begin to doubt my interpretation. Is the ending of the poem merely an affirmation of life, or is the ending a punishment for suicide? She will live in a heavenly paradise but NEVER be permitted a productive moment? Is that heaven or hell?

Wow! Is the unconventional, bohemian-to-be Millay condemning the act of suicide...saying that punishment must follow? I'm conflicted over the interpretation.

Anyone...ELLA, ANNA, BRUMIE... please help?

Harriet

This is the most complete site that I've found so far of ESVM's works, even including references to Savage Beauty. It seems to have work that is not available in the first two sites, though ALL of the sites have some poetry pieces unique to themselves.

Paris/Left Bank/Millay

Ella, do you feel it might be useful to put the three sites in this post and in my post #63 in the heading?

Harriet

Harriet, I haven't read all of Suicide yet but before I do I want to share another poem first because I'm afraid I'll forget it. The poem Renascience.

Last night before I went to be I read Renascience and after my lights were turned out I pondered about the poem. The very first (pg 82) it starts out "All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood" A WOOD? Thought that was strange A WOOD!!?? I lifted my head up and tried to remember rest of the poem that made an impression on me. I remembered "And I could touch them with my hands, Almost, I thought, from where I stand"...."And reaching up my hand to try, I screamed, to feel it touch the sky." I thought "Hey, isn't this about death?" Would A WOOD mean a grave - casket-death? I remembered something about a raised arm. Bells went off in my head this poem is about death and life again.

That was last night and now, today, I'm still thinking about it and the more I read it I find new discoveries and insights. This is how I've put this poem together for myself.

Death

"All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood"...I could touch them with my hand, Almost, I thought, from where I stand"..."reaching up my hand to try, I screamed, to feel it touch the sky"...."I screamed, and -l0!- Infinity Came down and settled over me; forced back my arm upon my breast"....The pitying rain began to fall; I lay and heard each pattering hoof Upon my lowly, thatched roof."

Remembrance

..."For soon the shower will be done, And then the broad face of the sun Will laugh above the rain-soaked earth Until the world with answering mirth Shades joyously, and each round drop Rolls, twinkling, from its grass-blade top."

The Request (prayer)

"O God, I cried, give me new birth, And put me back upon the earth!"

The answer

"I ceased; and through the breathless hush That answered me, the far-off rush Of herald wings came whispering Like music down the vibrant string Of my ascending prayer, and - crash!"......"And the big rain in one black wave Fell from the sky and struck my grave."

The awakening

" I felt the rain's cool finger-tips Brushed tenderly across my lips, Laid gently on my sealed sight, And all at once the heavy night Fell from my eyes and I could see!"

New Life

"Ah! Up then from the ground sprang!"....."About the trees my arms I wound; Like one gone mad I hugged the ground; I raised my quivering arms on high;....."

This is my favorite "Thou canst not move across the grass But my quick eyes will see Thee pass, Nor speak, however silently, But my hushed voice will answer Thee. I know the path that tells Thy way Through the cool eve of every day; God, I can push the grass apart And lay my finger on Thy heart." That touches my heart.

To me this poem is so sad that it become so beautiful. I could say more but I'll wait and read Suicide. Thanks for your "listening eyes."

Here is another sad poem but a beautiful one. Like you say Harriet, you see it different - and I do too. It is life. She is very strong when she says "Curse thee, Life, I will live with thee no more!" That's strong (to me). Then she says:

"Lonely I came, and I depart alone, And know not where nor until whom I go; But that thou canst not follow me I know."

"I have been heated by THY fires, Bent by THY hands, fashioned to THY desires, THY mark is on me!"

"Ah, Life, I would have been a pleasant thing To have about the house when I was grown If thou hadst left my little joys alone!"

"That thou wouldst leave me playing in the sun!"

Brumie, isn't it fun to relate to images in a poem and FEEL the beauty and the emotions? I get excited when I read these things closely, mainly because I DON'T have a wide background in poetry. It's all new and the impact is fresh to me.

Harriet

Oh, BRUMIE, I can see you are caught in the magic of her poetry! How can we not be!!!! Did you know that the title of the poem - RENASCENCE - means a rebirth or a new birth or life; another spelling, of course, would be renaissance.

And this from a young lady who, with the rest of her family, were not at all religious, if my memory serves me right. In my re-reading of the book (yes, Anna, I am too!) I will note where that is stated.

Good idea, HARRIET, to put those sites in the heading. I am going to do that tonight, plus a few more things to surprise all of you with.

---

I had underlined in the book a few impressions she left with others at about this period in her life - Miss Dow, her sponsor at Vassar, "suspected a certain instability or wildness in her young charge, which she felt was due to her environment as much as to her immaturity."

Louis Untermeyer remembered her this way - "absolutely artless. She was not going to show off before me. She didn't fawn, she wasn't servile. I asked her to read and she did…….she recited beautifully…..I had no sense of the fame she was going to achieve…..there was no other voice like hers in America. It was the sound of the ax on fresh wood."

A friend at Vassar remembered her like this: "She was one of the celebrities. And, well, I think she liked it. She had done something. She was special. She wasn't really pretty, she had pale red hair-but there was a quality-she was luminous, as if there were a light behind her. That must sound corny. But she was magical and luminous. I felt it. Everyone did."

But Edna can be SO DELIGHTFUL!

"All the girls here at McGlynn's (her boarding house while at Vassar), about 30, like me, I know…….they all want blankets like mine, and----and, fo' de Lawd's sake listen--------they make fun of me because I have so many clothes. Shan't you die."

later - e.g.

Harriet, yes it is fun to relate to the images in the poems and to feel the emotion. Normally I do not sit down and study/mediate on a poem(s) until this book discussion. Poems would not open up to me because I did not understand them. Then too, I'm like you I don't have a good background in poetry. Yes, I'm having fun!

Apropos of rereading, I also feel that the only way I can manage is to constantly read and reread the book...and even then it's still easy to misinterpret. Same with the poetry, but I'm sure having fun.

Yes, I believe it was at Vassar, where she had a larger stage on which to exert her seductive powers of charisma, that Edna's personality began to solidify. She entered the entirely feminine environment of Vassar "with plots and counterplots among girls who were rivalrous, homesick, secretive, passionate, and four years younger than she." p.111. The romantic girl who had written so conventionally of her dream male in her diary, now discovered that she was "masterful" at testing her own powers of attraction in the crossgender intrigues that abounded at Vassar.

What would have impelled her into a romance with another girl? On p.110, Edna writes of the college to which she had so longed to gain entry: "They trust us with everything but men...a man is forbidden as if he were an apple." Edna found that she enjoyed the attentions of those girls who took on masculine roles and competed for her smiles. She seemed to be an extraordinary flirt and cut her sensual teeth by dangling and manipulating other Vassarites.

"Vincent was very definitely a person to whom others formed crushes, and attachments. (Girls) simply trailed after her and I do think she enjoyed it largely...she was different from others, from the rest of us. She had an elusive, physical charm which we didn't associate with our own sex in those days." (p.118)

more...

Harriet

I thought Edna loved being someone of note on the campus of Vassar, sought out and lionized by classmates. It gave her confidence. Goodness, but she needed that confidence when she wrote flirty, seductive letters to the editors and publishers of the magazines that printed her works. She used her powers of attraction to further the goal that above all, was MOST important to her...HER POETRY. On p.130, Elaine Ralli wrote of her:

"Millay was a seductress. Oh, I should think so! You have only to look at those poems. She liked to draw people to her. There was a ruthlessness about Vincent...that her work came first...Vincent had an eye on herself, her future...it was her first love, and perhaps her only one: her poetry."

There was a very telling quote about the personality of her sister from Norma Millay on p.142. As a senior, Edna, dares much and flouts the rules of Vassar often. She is finally penalized and denied access to her own graduation. After a petition from hundreds of her classmates and appeals from her mother, she is reinstated. But her sister, Norma, makes the most astute analysis of why Edna takes such chances.

"They have been wonderful--Simply wonderful to her all through her College career and she has done exactly as she did so please. She thinks it rather cute to stay out just because she dares and wants to. She has done things like that all her life. It is not part of the genius which prompts these things in her; it is BECAUSE of the genius that she DARES do everything she pleases."

That struck me as a very true statement. I wonder if stay-at-home Norma had any envy or anger toward her gifted sister at that point?

Harriet

My husband has a medical appointment in Manhattan today. See you all later. Have a good one, all.

Harriet

Harriet, thank you for your posts. I do have some difficulty with Milford's writing because she jumps around so your posts help. Someone told me that is the way she (Milford) writes.

Oh, thank you, thank you, Harriet, for those wonderful posts - yes, we are into the Vassar years of our young poet and I have much to say and respond to your comments.

However, I also have a very full day ahead of me - for someone who is retired I see to keep very busy!!! It seems days and days go by when I have free time and then POP! Every day is full - so I'm off now, but will look in tonight and talk about college, Norma, and all those girlfriends of Vincent's. When I read this chapter my first thought was that, perhaps, it is good that we have so few women' colleges today!!! Rah! for co-ed!

What do you think Anna and Brumie!

See you later.

We have a real treat coming tonight - should be here soon, keep your eyes on the header!

While reading page 67 (BRUMIE - we are all skipping around, not just Milford!), it came to me, like a ballbat hit me over the head, that these years that we are reading about were the ROARING 20's - THE JAZZ AGE - when the world went wild, all the young ladies shortened their skirts, bobbed their hair, smoked in public, flirted wildly, and danced, danced, danced.

To quote what I read: this was before Vassar and all that happened there and I think it was a turning point in Edna's life as she read her poem "Renascence" there and that made all the difference in her life, in her future, and her friendships

Norma remembered that at the end of August there was to be a staff party, a masquerade dance. And they said, will your sister be there? And I said I didn't know…….I made up my mind that Vincent was going to come.

You understand, Vincent had been out of school a long time. And we knew she was a genius. She was shy. She went with her girlfriends. ……I told her it would be kind of fun. Kind of a lark. And we loved to dance well together. So, Come on! Vincent.

Years later Vincent would write, "Norma was….carefree, gay, gregarious and unselfconscious; I was thoughtful, intense, involved, reticent and retiring."

What a confusing picture we get of Edna St. Vincent Millay at this point in the book. Everyone has a different opinion of her - years later, looking back at this time period, she herself believes she was reticent and retiring??????

What to believe!!!!

BRUMIE AND ANNA - are you there? What do you say about all of this?

later - eg

Ella, yes I'm still here and I won't leave. No, I'm trying to get my thoughts together and every time I do I get a phone call or my dog, Andy, wants to go out!!!! The more I read about Vincent (as she calls herself) the more she becomes mystical to me. Her voice, the way people are drawn to her, and the way she draw them to her.

I want to call Vincent a prig. I looked that word up and it means "a person who affects airs of superior wisdom and virtue. On pg. 101 - 103 there is a conversation between Norma and Milford about the long story Vincent wrote and thought it was interesting. Have any thoughts here?

I'll be back.

Ella, oh I love what you did above NEAT-O!

I'm wearing my flapper dress and my strapped sandals!

Let's do the Charleston!!

I love it too, Ella. What a nice surprise!

Hi BRUMIE, ANNA, and any lurkers! Wanna dance?

Harriet

Millay has for a long time been one of my FAVORITE poets--especially when she speaks about nature or eccentric people like someone who weeds the garden by the light of the moon and allows the Queen-Anne's lace to bloom in the lawn, a very unconventional and wild thing to do in her society. She is a painter with words instead of a brush, and communicates with those words at the deepest levels of her emotions. The poem mentioned above:


"I am waylaid by Beauty.
Who will walk between me and the crying of the frogs?
Oh, savage Beauty, suffer me to pass,
That am a timid woman, on her way
From one house to another!"


------There are some people who'se emotions are so bare, without any filters, that when they observe beauty it is almost painful. I think that's how she feels about nature. Yet she's a woman doing her duty, going from one house to another for whatever reasons mundane lifeand her society requires, when she would much rather not have the needs of existence interfere with the deep sense of longing that nature creates in her and probably would rather be a wild gypsy with that deep need to be "free", or even just a soul without a body at all. As for the frogs crying, frogs croak when they are looking for a mate, and the longing to mate is part of nature and as strong as her depth of feeling for nature, so it seems natural for her to express it in such a way. When she asks someone to stand between her and the crying of the frogs, I would interpret that as the longing and the fear at the same time of the mating game, and the need for someone or something to protect her from the longing for love and being disappointed. I myself have felt that exact same ambivalence because I don't seem to have the ordinary "filters" that people have to keep emotions in check and hurt is almost so profound that I'm not sure I can bounce back from it. A lot of artistic people have no filters from life, emotion, feelings, which can be the very thing that allows them to produce art. They need to be in touch at gut level with whatever they are making art about, but that same lack of filtering often appears in all other aspects of their lives and causes havoc because they lack the normal self-protection from emotion and pain and can sink into spirals of depression because of it. So I think that's what she was saying when she talked about the frogs with their crying mating call. And here is a poem of hers which expresses exactly how that wonderful longing to mate turns into hurt and disappointment for many of us:


Was it for this I uttered prayers,
And sobbed and cursed and kicked the stairs,
That now, domestic as a plate
I should retire at half-past eight?


Anyhow, whenever I am out somewhere in nature and it's a particularly beautiful day, I quote her poem to my dog (who is very attentive , simply because her words express it so much better than I ever could:


Oh world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!
Thy mists, that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
And all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag
To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, World, I cannot get thee close enough!


Long have I known a glory in it all,
But never knew I this:
Here such a passion is
As stretcheth me apart,--Lord, I do fear
Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year:
My soul is all but out of me,--let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.


That line "Lord, I do fear Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year" is, I think, one of the most beautiful lines of poetry ever written---almost mystical in it's intense expression, and I use it often when it's so beautiful that it aches, as a prayer of intense gratitude.

And this poem of hers expresses pretty much how I felt during most of my marriage with a very controlling and invasive husband who could not just "let me be me" to own my own soul. I think many women feel like that; they give all they have and keep an empty cobwebbed room for their own souls, and when even that is invaded by demands it becomes too much to bear:


This door you might not open, and you did;
So enter now, and see for what slight thing
You are betrayed . . . . Here is no treasure hid,
No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring
The sought-for Truth, no heads of women slain
For greed like yours, no writhings of distress;
An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless.
Yet this alone out of my life I kept
Unto myself, lest any know me quite;
And you did so profane me when you crept
Unto the threshold of this room tonight
That I must never more behold your face,
This now is yours. I seek another place.


So she expresses intense and universal emotions in her word paintings, some of which we all relate to better than others. Many of her poems I don't understand at all, but those that strike a cord have struck deeply and profoundly, and somehow, I almost think that if I read about her ordinary and chaotic life and saw her "human" face, her poems would not have the same mystical resonance with me. Her poems, like a great painting, are a thing apart from her, entities that now stands on their own, even though they came "out of her".

Welcome to you MountainGal!

We came to similar conclusions about the poem Savage Beauty, MountainGal. There are some pleasures so intense that the sensation spills over into pain. For me, beauty can sometimes be like that, producing emotions that verge on an "edge," a precipice, along with the joy.

I saw that same phenomenon in God's World. Millay uses phrases that would seem to be opposites, but make perfect sense in terms of the pleasure/pain of a sight too beautiful to endure.

"this autumn day, that ache and sag" "That gaunt crag To crush!

Your take on the frogs fascinates me. I wondered at first if the frogs were not just another euphemism for beauty, but your interpretation has great appeal for me. It sounds like something that might "go" with Millay's personality.

You know, Millay was beautiful, and charismatic, and stubborn, selfish, enormously complex, and wonderfully, wonderfully determined where her work was concerned. You would not be disappointed if you saw her face or read her life. She was a complex and remarkable woman. You might enjoy the book quite a bit.

In any event we have some links to Millay's poetry in the heading up above. You can click on and read a remarkably large number of her poems. Perhaps some of them will be new to you. Please join us with your interpretations and comments because they are WONDERFUL. But whether the poems you find in our links are new or old, it would be SO beneficial for your attentive doggie to have the advantage of hearing a few additional recitations by you. So-o-o mind expanding! Surely you wouldn't deny your dog that pleasure!

Please come again, and often, MountainGal. How nice to have you!

Harriet

I often have a very difficult time understanding poetry, but as I said, some of hers just "hit home".
To me, almost all the time, the personal life of an artist doesn't interest me very much because I really do feel that their "art" is separate from who they are as a person, unless I'm trying to learn something to apply to my own life, such as how they handled the "creative spirit" in an atmosphere of neglect or even enmity of the society to that spirit. But take for instance a painting by VanGogh---it is there in time and space, totally separate from him as a human being with all his problems and psychological shortcomings, and thus I am free to interpret it in my own way depending on my own experiences. I think truly good art allows you to do that. It can't be fit into a box or made to fit a particular life. An artist uses situation in his/her own life, but expresses them in a "universal" way so that there's no need to know about their lives unless you are looking for very personal insight or particular symbolism of time and place, which is legitimate, but for meit personally eliminates a lot of the "mystical" of that artistic expression.


At the same time I believe that often God (or the universe) puts certain elements together as to environment, history, temperament, and family (even bad family) to mold and create an "artistic spirit", and whatever Millay went through as far as the longing to be protected and loved by her mother, that may well have spilled over into her artistic longings and expressions. So a "good" and "normal" life does not necessarily make the best artists, and very few artists in any genre actually fit into their society because they have to see things in a "different way", a way that most people (including their own families) simply can't comprehend because most people go through life in sort of a comfortable trance, and the artist is there to "wake 'em up". So I think her environment, however peculiar and poor it was, is what molded her. A "normal" environment often makes us lazy and self-satisfied, and so the need for expression is not as intense (although there are always exceptions). In that way I think her mother's peculiar self-centeredness was something God (or the universe) used to produce her art. Sometimes I even think that is what is meant when Christianity says that God "redeems" our wrongdoings and sins. He uses our failings and self-centeredness in ways that very often produce goodness and genius in the long run, sometimes generations later, and so in the end all's right with the world. Am I making any sense?

mentioned the frogs crying. Often someone who is so in tune with nature realizes this very simple law, and with her words she may have given us several layers of meaning that echo in the heart and mind:

"A ruby is not lovelier
Than a rock,
An angel is nor more glorious
Than a frog."


(Angelus Selesius)

I THINK I hear you in your post #84, MountainGal. Life's tough experiences hurt like heck, but are grist for the creative mill? Who wants the misery...but the understanding of the heart is enriched?

A tough way to expand horizons.

And of course you're right. Millay probably did use all that life threw at her to color her perceptions. She turned her experiences into, as you said, "word paintings"...what a great phrase! Her gifts of mind and perception made them universal.

For me at least, I don't see that "mystic" quality being diminished by too intimate a knowledge of the artist as a human being. No matter how quietly the extraordinary part of the artistic personality sits within its flawed, human framework, it would always be THERE waiting for the right spark to flare up again. That knowledge can be an underlying excitement and I don't believe that I would find the artist's work lessened by familiarity.

---

"A ruby is not lovelier
Than a rock,
An angel is nor more glorious
Than a frog."


(Angelus Selesius)


What an exquisite piece, MountainGal. I'd never heard it before. The wonderful thing about poetry is that it's possible to find many lyrical and lovely interpretations of a work of art. Thank you for finding this one. The frog and beauty CAN be one.

Harriet

BRUMIE, I went back to reread pp.101-103. It seems to me that Nancy Milford, our author, drew back from making the obvious conclusions about the long story that Edna wrote about her young heroine, Arline. But that story, paired with Norma's evasiveness, implies a new perspective on Edna's homelife. In that story, the man who is being "entertained" by Arline's mother visits Arline in her bedroom and wants MORE than a kiss goodnight.

I'm open to the idea that Cora had romances, but did she really find it acceptable to do this openly, in front of her children, and allow her lover to manhandle one or more of her daughters? I suppose we'll never know for sure how much of Edna's fictional long story was based on autobiographical personal experience and how much of it was dramatic license.

I'm going to jump the gun just this once, on a passage in this book that we are not yet into. Please forgive me, all, but I do it only because it correlates so perfectly with Brumie's pp. 101-103. The opportunity may never come up again to dovetail these two incidents so perfectly.

On p 237, Cora, visiting Edna in the Paris of 1921, is frantic over her daughter's relentless promiscuity and poor choice of lovers. She reminisces guiltily on her own checkered past and Edna's disreputable lover.

"Am I...my mother...her mother...her mother...to blame for him? (Cora is talking about Edna's lover.) Let me be honest...I wonder if he brings back to me some of my own indiscretions...I wonder if she can remember...those who were allowed to fondle me...when she may have known? How do I know that some of the lovers I had hanging about me were not repugnant to her virgin young soul? How do I know? Does she remember?"

Whatever sensibilities Cora had, wasn't it too bad that they didn't waken ten or fifteen years earlier?

More, tomorrow.

Harriet

And Mountain Gal I would say you are very preceptive. Sorry I have a touch of the flu and have felt worse than awful..but I could not stay away. I am so pleased that God's Word has found a place in each of you ..As you know it was my first poem of hers and I read it at 17 and I think it has always marked me. I beleive it opened doors in my soul for allowing my feelings and emotions to be warmed and allowed to fly away.

Writing poetry for me came only after my husband's death. It was the one way I could deal with my loss. Poetry was always my secret love since while I came from a very loving family where books were appreciated poetry was thought of as sort of feminine and sissified. That would have been fine for a girl but I was raised with five brothers and I think I felt to reveal that side of me would have resulted in some laughter.

So in my senior years the part of me that flies has become very pronounced. One friend locally commented she could never see me as prim and proper and another friend said she no longer recognized me. I was always a bit different but I know I suppressed some of that because we were in a military society that prides itself on control and proper behavior.

In any case I am enjoying this biography and an in depth study about a poet I admired.

I must go back and re read Cora's statement ..I think I missed that in the first reading....and of course she would have gentlemen friends. And a woman with three daughters and one attractive not only in appearence but in attitude ( a man is always attracted to a woman who is sure of who she is) would be a bonus. And that is just another sad fact in Edna's life.

Thinking with a headache gives me one...anna

Just a quick note this a.m. I found a site that played Vincent reading from one of her poems (line or two). Don't remember where I found it but I'll got back later to find it. It thrilled me to here her voice. Has anyone found a site where you can hear her reading?

Anna, I hope you feel better soon. I enjoy your posts (and Mountain Gal). I'll be back later.

WHAT A TREAT TO COME IN HERE THIS AFTERNOON AND READ SUCH BEAUTIFUL POSTS. YOU ALL ARE ASTOUNDING!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING HERE TOGETHER AND IT IS SUCH A PLEASURE TO JOIN YOU!

HOW NICE TO HAVE YOU HERE,MOUNTAINGAL! STAY WITH US BECAUSE YOU HAVE MUCH TO OFFER!

What insights you bring us - "painter with words instead of a brush, and communicates with those words at the deepest levels of her emotions," but, particularly, this remark you made - it explains the one sentence in the poem that I didn't understand:

"As for the frogs crying, frogs croak when they are looking for a mate, and the longing to mate is part of nature and as strong as her depth of feeling for nature, so it seems natural for her to express it in such a way. When she asks someone to stand between her and the crying of the frogs, I would interpret that as the longing and the fear at the same time of the mating game, and the need for someone or something to protect her from the longing for love and being disappointed."

Anna and you agree on "GOD'S WORLD" as one of finest poems, I think!

You have wonderful observation as to the artist's world and I think have answered one of the questions I was going to put in the heading at a later date. However, some of us may disagree so I shall ask here:

Why do many creative people, like Edna Millay, need to be either in the depths or the heights of emotion in order to create?

That is not stated very well as my mind is rusty today, but I think you understand what I am attempting to ask. You believe, MOUNTAINGAL, that her environment is what molded her and that "very few artists in any genre actually fit into their society because they have to see things in a "different way."

Thank you for that!

And, HARRIET that's just "swell" (a word they used in the 20's) of you to have correlated those two incidents in the life of mother/daughter and the fact that possibly the story of "Arline" is true? Cora 's words in that passage on page certainly sounds as though it is a possibility - "I wonder if she can remember...those who were allowed to fondle me.…. How do I know that some of the lovers I had hanging about me were not repugnant to her virgin young soul? How do I know? "

How do we know except perhaps this incident or one incident similar led to the dark side of her poetry, and would account for her many problems with men, her longing for "real love" in her poetry.

How perceptive of you to bring those two incidents in the book together. You're just great, thanks for being here!

ANNA, we all hope your headache gets better we need you here! And I know all around you, particularly here in the Poetry Corner, are happy you have found your "secret love."

BRUMIE, I hope you can find that recording of Edna's voice reciting a poem and can bring it here - we would all enjoy listening to it! Do try! She obviously had a strong and clear voice for as we shall see later in the book she made a living of reading her poetry; she also could sing well and play the piano! What talent!

Getting back to her Vassar days and these descriptions of her "close friendships" with several female students, I wonder if one of them - Catherine Filene - was related to the store mogul of Filene's Basement?

And this wealthy girl - Elaine Ralli? What do you think of that friendship? Even Mrs. Dow cautioned her about this friendship saying "absorbing attentions from individual students are a hindrance in spite of the pleasant things they bring. Those very things are not the best for yr. Nature."

Be back later, e.g.

I found the address to hear Vincent read from one of her poems. It's not long but still you can hear her. Ella, you expressed her voice well, strong and very clear.

http://encarta.msn.com/find

Choose #3 (excerpt from Recuerdo)

Me again! Take a look at http://everypoet.com and see what you think.

in the depth and heights of emotion to create, but it's reversed in truth. The height and depth of their emotions causes the need to create. There has been found a definite correlation between creativity and manic/depressive illness which is at the far end of the scale. I think creative people are just different, as I said before, without the usual emotional filters and conventions that society requires for self-protection and in order to "fit in". They actually have a different sense of time and space, color and light, and are hyperobservant. That's why they can create, because they see things with such intensity that it's like an ache. And because they all too often don't have the self-protective filters, their emotions are all over the place, which in turn often causes the society they live in to look at them askance. Most of humanity lives in sort of a fog-like trance and goes through the motions and conventions required to survive in their societies. That leaves no room for intensity. Creative people are "wired" differently, and that goes not only for artists but scientists or anyone who does very creative thinking that is outside the box. And society, with humans being herd animals, often does not understand outside-the-box thinking except in retrospect when it's become accepted. So creative people often have a difficult way to go, but they can't help themselves because they are driven to express what they see or feel and they feel the need to share what they perceive.
I have kept insights about creative people for some years now and here are some quotes that might clarify what I mean:

Creative people are usually more vulnerable than the rest of us. Since their productivity benefits us all, anything emotional that interferes with their creativity deprives us all. Creative persons seem to lack adequate means to protect themselves, not only from the outside world, but also from themselves. --- (my comment: because to be creative one must be totally "open" and being "open" is risky--there are no "filters" when one is open. It's like a child who is completely at the mercy of the people around him. Creative people take nothing for granted. They are in a constant state of "wonder". Like the poem that Annafair wrote about dust motes. Who but a creative person would even notice how beautiful dust motes can be? And when a creative person expresses that wonder, others who don't see that, or see the dust motes only as a negative thing or dismiss it as unimportant, often react in a puzzled or even negative way which is very painful to the creator because he/she can't understand that others don't see the beauty the way they can see it. So they feel "separate" from other people and it can be very hurtful.)


Creativity is probably a delicate special balance of talent, discipline and inherited chemical energy. It flourishes when combined with the right environmental conditions. --- (my comment: those environmental conditions need NOT be benign and NOT normal.)


One reason that the link between genius and insanity persists in many minds is that creative people do behave in ways that are out of the ordinary. The pattern of most artist's lives falls out of cycle with that of ordinary people, since artists often continue to be productive without considering the usual human needs or time schedules, and many artistic geniuses have no skill in dealing with the outside world, other than through their creative media. --- (my comments: which is why often an artistic person needs a mentor and someone to look out for his best interests so the artist can continue in those unique artistic pursuits without being disrupted by the usual time and practical requirements and schedules of society.)


Some writers complained that excessive sociability was a problem. They needed substantial blocks of time and isolation from human contact to accomplish their work. --- (my comment: even Picasso said that to produce great art one has to have great solitude. Normal socializing gets in the way of that artistic expression because it's time and energy consuming.)


If one does not understand the usefulness of the useless and the uselessness of the useful, one cannot understand art. --- (my comment: most societies only tolerate the useful and practical, but creativity needs time to be useless, to just play, to incubate for as long as it takes, to turn things inside-out and upside-down, and our society considers that lazy or eccentric or foolish, so often punishment is dished out from a very early age, which inhibits the creative flow.)

BRUMIE - I tried that first link you gave and got all mixed up in MSN's Encarta, had to do a search, and then heard bits and pieces of a woman reciting a poem about a battle - is that the one? It was broken up, but her voice was beautiful!!! I'll try it again later because I would like to hear all of that poem. (Goodness, it must be my computer, nothing would work for awhile and I had to do a crl-alt-del to get out of it.) Will try that next one in a minute.

Did want to say how lovely you write and the ideas you express about artists, MOUNTAINGAL. True! How great to have collected your thoughts about them over the years:

"The pattern of most artist's lives falls out of cycle with that of ordinary people, since artists often continue to be productive without considering the usual human needs or time schedules, and many artistic geniuses have no skill in dealing with the outside world, other than through their creative media."

I think of Eugene O'Neill's life and Scott Fitzgerald's (and others); both were alcoholics and so unhappy; but both have given so much enjoyment to society. They had no skill in dealing with the mundane tasks of most people.

Please note the Schedule of Discussion in the header - I have corrected it, as you will see, and put in the page numbers for clarity.

later---

Ella, I found another recording of Vincent's voice. Would you believe it is found in salon.com the link you have above. Found it in the audio. I'm not good about finding addresses (links - urls). Can you help?

BRUMIE, I think that the http://everypoet.com site in your post #92 is a treasure. Perhaps we could have it in the heading? It's nice to be able to access some poetry other than Millay's works: partly for the pleasure of different poets and partly for personal comparisons. I enjoy the idea of getting a "feel" of more than one poet and being able to share that excitement with you all on occasion.

Here is the link for Edna's voice in the Salon review. Bless you, BRUMIE, and thank you. So alert! Everyone, please be sure and scroll downward to find and click on the recordings. She really does have a very dramatic and resonant voice.

Edna's voice

ANNA, do you always include a few quiet, throwaway treasures in your observations? I adored your statement about women who are attractive "not only in appearance but in attitude" and about men always being attracted "to a woman who is sure of who she is." Such wisdom!

later...

Harriet

BRUMIE AND HARRIET - I put the EveryPoet site in the heading and it's a good one, I could spend lots of time there. Also I listened to the two audios you found in the Salon Interview. It would have helped if I had the poems in front of me while she was reciting - in the first one "Fatal Interview" her voice was high and somewhat trembling, confusing at times, and very dramatic. I liked the second one the best about the apples and the pears and giving them all away, the sound was much better!

Thanks so much for your digging - can you imagine teaching a course on Edna's poetry and having a recording for the students to listen to - and on their own computers! It's truly amazing.

Does the phrase - "a woman who is sure of who she is" mean that she is self confident? What actually does that mean? I've heard that before but I've never known. If someone ask me to find out whom I am, I would ask them how does one do it and (haha) who do you ask.

Do all of you know WHO YOU ARE? I'm not a poet, a writer, a story teller, I have no talents to leave behind for the enjoyment of society, I will disappear and leave no footprints. But I do like who I am if that means anything.

To me, being "sure of who you are" implies that a person is comfortable in his own skin. I don't think this has anything to do with moral rightness or correctness of principles. Some people just march to their own drummer and find the rhythm comfortable. Something about the aura of confidence, the elan, can be a magnetic draw. Anyhow, that's how I think of that phrase.

Is that who I am? I guarantee you, NOT. I'm too eager to look at the other guy's point of view to ever be a "sure of who you are" person. Anyone with a good argument and a reasonable supposition stands a terrific chance of swaying me, or at least TURNING me to look in another direction. My drummer's beat is erratic, and I suspect that I'm the type of person to look around often, to see if I'm in step.

Maybe a lot of people are careful to keep to the drummer's beat, rather than composing their own tattoo of rhythm. Yet, they are a worthwhile, responsible group, productive and loving, building good things as they move through life.

Others SET the beat of the drum and pause occasionally to release fireworks into the sky.

How do the rest of you see that phrase? I think of both Cora and Edna as people who heard a clearly defined rhythm in life's drumbeat and tended to SET the pace?

Harriet

I tend to not only march to my own beat, but don't care if anyone else follows me or approves, or even notices. I am very self-contained and very self-assured and have very strong opinions on just about everything, and even though I will listen to other opinions and consider them, I only change my mind if I have logical and conclusive evidence that I'm wrong; but I'm always questioning and searching too, challenging myself and what's in my own head. My relationship is primarily with God and not so much with people, and although I love people I tend to get bored with small talk or uniform thinking and prefer what goes on in my own head. I lead a basically solitary and contemplative life without even a TV set for over 30 years, but lots of books. With a male I would need intellectual challenge more than almost anything else, and I'd always be challenging him back. As a young woman my brother once told me, "I would never marry a woman like you because you'd scare me to death. All I want after a day of work is pretty and soft, without challenge." And frankly, I think that is what most men want. They may find a self-assured woman fascinating, but not over the long haul, because it means they don't have the control that the male ego needs. Most men are not secure enough in their own skin to be able to handle an independent, strong-willed and challenging female--at least that's been my experience. Nor can they handle the "creative" personality when it needs to retreat for long stretches of time to accomplish the work that needs to be done. A man may say he understands, but when it comes right down to it, he does not. Therefore I have chosen very deliberately to be alone. It's amazing how that simplifies my life and saves emotional energy so that I can turn it into the directions I want for my work. However, I have only done that in the last seven years. Before that I was the typical "wife and mother" with everyone's needs ahead of my own, and now I have done a complete turn-around and finally put my own needs first for the first time in my life. It feels great!!! It helps that the hormones are barely glimmering anymore because when a man or woman have sexual needs they do a lot of foolish things to satisfy that urge, and it can cause endless turmoil in a life. Hahahah! Been there and done that, don't want to do it anymore.

Oh, you're both wonderful! Wish I had time today to comment on what you said, but I don't! Just a few words about the book to wind up this part so that we may being anew tomorrow with Parts 3 and 4.

This book is divided in the strangest way, there are books, chapters and parts, rather crazy, but Harriet and I thought that the Parts would be the best way, the most equitable way, to break our discussion down.

Isn't this a great tribute to Edna!

"Once I taught a genius and she became my friend." - the opening sentence of Haight's memoir "VINCENT AT VASSAR"

Elizabeth Haight was an associate professor of Latin at Vassar at the time with a passion for the classics and had tutored Edna in Latin over one summer. (I'm going to check to see if my library has this book(

Did you think that friendship or love, whatever, for Elaine Ralli, one of her girlfriends at Vassar, strange? It was so intense that Elaine had a mental crackup when she realized that Edna had "dropped her.

And at this time she begins a correspondence, - an extrordinary correspondence - with Arthur Hooley. Elegant, dark, slender, 17 years older than Edna, an Englishman, a married one to boot, he was an editor for THE FORUM, one of the finest literary publications in America, and responsible for publishing all of Edna's poems for the next three years.

She had met him a couple of times and calls him "the dearest thing, but I'm not in love with him," However, she is responding to men at this time of her life and reaching out for attention from Arthur in this letter:

"Arthur, don't say to me, "Child, child"…I am not a child in love with you, to be patted and sent away, or to be scolded and shaken. I am an almost reasonable human being, who has not spoken to anyone for a long time…People fall in love with me, and annoy me and distress me and flatter me and excite me and---all that sort of thing. But no one speaks to me. I sometimes think that no one can. Can you?"

She needed a man's voice in her life, understandable in all-female college, and later states in another letter that "nothing has ever hurt me. Nothing can. In that respect, surely, I shall always remain a child." And continues by stating "No man could ever fill my life to the exclusion of other things." (Mountaingal, you can relate to that comment, surely)

She wrote this at the age of 23, to his 40, and Milford comments - "She was as accurate as it was rare to acknowledge."

In another letter to Arthur she writes: "Why would it be absurd for me if you should really love me? The absurdity would be, would it not,-for me to love you?"

Well! This lady, as we shall see, does not know how to love, in my opinion.

Someone else has said that she was selfish, self-centered to the exclusion of everything and this is proven in the fact that nowhere in her correspondence during this time did she comment on the terrible war going on in Europe and that women were marching for suffrage in New York. That seems incredible to me! Do you think the author had all the letters she ever wrote?

---

ANNA or MOUNTAINGAL, I know that the rhyme of a poem designates what kind of a poem it is, but I am very ignorant of this and I'm hoping that you can you instruct us? Tell us the different types of poems and how one knows, - for example, what is this one called:

People dress and go to town;
I sit in my chair
All my thoughts are slow and brown;
standing up or sitting down
Little matters, or what gown
Or what shoes I wear.

It has a certain beat to it - and 4 of the lines rhyme - can you help? I would like to learn while we are here together and you two have this knowledge.

Back later -

MOUNTAINGAL - I could live without TV also! But my husband couldn't so it stays! Couldn't live without books though!

What great posts everyone has made. I don't know exactly where to enter. To the "beat of the drummer" I tend to seek other points of view because I like to hear other views and I learn from them too.

Mountain Gal I think we are sister in spirit....as long as my husband was alive I more or less was the kind of wife and mother expected by society. True I had my "crazy' moments .like when wigs were in and my husband was overseas and offered to buy me want. He asked for samples of my hair and I wrote back and said Why would I want a wig to look like my hair ,,no, bring me one that is totally different. So I ended up with one each of strawberry blonde,. raven hair and sort of a reddish light brown. My own was deep auburn...now each Sunday I would wear a different color wig to church. And at the mandatory coffees and teas of a military wife I would also appear in one of the wigs..causing a General;s wife to inquire IS THIS THE REAL YOU? Makes me laught to think about it.

When my husband died nine years ago I was at church and a number of widows were seated together ( I was seated where I could watch them) and they all looked alike, the same hairdos, and similiar clothes and I knew I could NEVER live the rest of my life like that. So I bought a computer , eventually found my way to seniornet on AOL and took off...it was very difficult for my children in the beginning but I told them I was doing them a favor..I was showing them that LIFE can be Lived at any age and if I had to live alone then I was going to LIVE alone and they would just have to learn to deal with it. Now they tell everyone about what I do with some amount of pride. It was only after his death I found the time to put my feelings into poems and essays. Of course I had cared for him over the 2 1/2 years of his final illness and had little time for anything. We had a wonderful marriage but when one person said she never heard me mention all the things I was suddenly interested in ( and always had been) she asked why My answer in a marriage both partners have to give up some dreams in order to make it whole. Each of us did that in our marriage I gave up some of my dreams but he did too. And now for the first time in my life I had no one to consider but myself and I had to decide what Anna wanted ...and here I am .. I will also say that I was raised to be independent, my mother telling me that there were worse things in life than never marrying. Oh yes she hoped I would marry but she didnt want me to feel it was imperative or needed to make me happy. My parents were married 35 years before my father's death and my mother was only 51 at the time of his death. She never showed any interest in finding some one else and was quite content to just enjoy her children and her grandchildren as they came along.

Well I didnt mean to give you my life story ...and I now need to get busy as I had an early am doctors appointment and now I have to play catch up..back later ...........anna

To the book

Savage Beauty, to me, has a dark tone (if you can say a non-fiction has a tone). There was a section in the book that made me laugh and it is found on page 107. Vincent's history teacher gave her a 1 - on her exam and his comment read "No understanding of history, grand epithets." Vincent had begun by writing "I was prepared in American History at my home in Camden, Maine, in the hammock, on the roof, and behind the stove."

Some poems

Yesterday I went to library and picked up Collected Lyrics of Edna St. Vincent Millay and have read most of them. I know you can find many of her poems on the internet but you sure can't take your computer around the house or outdoors!!!!!!

One poem I liked found in Selected Poems for Young People

Wonder where this horseshoe went. Up and down, up and down, Up and past the mounment, Maybe into town.

Wait a minute. "Horseshoe, How far have you been? Says it's been to Salem And halfway to Lynn.

Wonder who was in the team. Wonder what they saw. Wonder if they passed a bridge - Bridge with a draw.

Says it went from one bridge Straight upon another Says it took a little girl Driving with her mother.

When I read that poem I remembered the time when Mother and I (along with our dogs) took a walk in the woods when I came across a horseshoe. I called to Mom "I found a horseshoe" she replied "good." So I picked it up and carried it back to the cabin. When we arrived, I handed her the horseshoe and she took it inside and nailed it to the wall of our cabin. Now as I think about it I never thought about "where the horseshoe went." Or anything else you might find in the woods, street, etc. I hope I made sense.

I'm drawn to this one

The Curse

Oh, lay my ashes on the wind That blows across the sea. And I shall meet a fisherman Out of Capri,

And he will say, seeing me, "What a strange thing! Like a fish's scale or a Butterfly's wing."

Oh, lay my ashes on the wind That blows away the fog. And I shall meet a farmer boy Leaping through the bog.

And he will say, seeing me, "What a strange thing! Like a peat-ash or a Butterfly's wing."

And I shall blow to your house And, sucked against the pane, See you take your sewing up And lay it down again.

And you will say, seeing me, "What a strange thing! Like a plum petal or a Butterfly's wing."

And none at all will know me That knew me well before. But I will settle at the root That climbs about your door,

And fishermen and farmers May see me and forget, But I'll be a bitter berry In your brewing yet.

Ella your post #100 poem Sorrow

Pg. 120 - 121 Vincent's sisters wrote a parody of the last stanza. "Kathleen called theirs 'Hunk's & my last efforts in your line":

Guess I'll dress and go to town, Not sit in my chair. Shall I wear my suit of brown Or my flimsy woosly down? Little matters or whose gown Or whose shoes I wear!

In answer to your question regarding the poem beginning People dress ...I printed it out ( and by the way you can highlight,copy and then put on your word processor nearly anything ( since I havent tried everything I am not 100% sure) you read on line.and have your own hard copy of same. Mentioning this in case anyone wants to have a copy of a particular poem etc

Back to your question..that poem has a unusual rhyme pattern and I am not sure what it can be called. Somewhere in my house I have a book by Mary Oliver on poetry that tells you all about what kind of poem a poem is BUT I cant find it right off hand. I did call a friend who might know and like me he was fascinated by the rythmn of the poem and we decided some poems fall in a crack. He has the same book but was not in a position to look it up either. He was one of the stars in my poetry group and is an excellent poet.

I will pursue this further and get back with you.

anna

Perhaps this book is as much about the meaning of the artistic temperament as it is about Edna St. Vincent Millay. How many of the aberrant actions of a genius stem from the need to experience, to correlate, to absorb the world, and cultivate her innate gifts...and how many are merely the result of cashing in on the license and prerogatives of an exalted status?

Edna is not a typical example of the artistic temperament because so few geniuses are recognized in their own time. She had opportunities unimaginable to a Van Gogh. She is lionized and hailed in her youth, admired and sought after. True, she is poverty stricken to an extraordinary degree for many years, but she also has family and friends who cherish her gifts and encourage her. She, more than other geniuses, had an opportunity to indulge in excesses merely because she COULD.

She loved women in her college years, and afterwards also, even after she had begun true sexual relationships with men. Look at her relationship with Elaine Ralli which she dissolved when it endangered her position at Vassar with Miss Dow. It's hard for me to figure out whether she took shameless advantage of her opportunities, or whether she NEEDED to devour life in huge gulps.

Yet, when I read these following two lines, I become enchanted with Edna and I would forgive her anything.

SECOND FIG


Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!


Edna St. Vincent Millay

Could there be anything more evocative of the artist who dares ALL?

Harriet

that poem either, since I've never been good at analyzing poetry as far as its structure, and I only sometimes get the meanings and the symbolism.Wish I could help here, but I can't.


However, your comment about her not being able to love probably has much truth to it. I think for an artist who is driven to create it is almost impossible to love in the sense that they can form partnerships and cooperate in the way that love needs. They have passion and sexual needs, but they are also very self-centered because they have to be---especially women. In any love relationship there has to be compromise, and art is uncompromising. When an artist needs to create he/she needs to do it in her own time and take as long as it takes; no compromise there. I think that's why through history there have been very few female artists even though I'm convinced the talent and need were there to express art. It's just a fact of life that you cannot hide in the studio when one of your children has scraped a knee or is ill. Female artists need wives and mistresses actually, who do all those mundane things, like the men have always had. I recently read Georgia O'Keeffe's biography, and she agonized over the decision of whether or not to have children, and ultimately chose not to have them because she knew that her life would be endlessly divided and frustrated, and she knew that "women cannot have it all" no matter what we are told. Because of our biology we still have to choose, and she chose art. She did have a husband, but he was an artist also in photography, and therefore seemed to have intuitive feelings about her needs and gave her a lot of freedom. Most males are not that generous, even today. So I think love for an artist is only a plaything, a way to serve sexual needs, but their real love is their art---never another person. At least that's my opinion, and I'm fully aware that is how I feel too. I love people as friends, but when it comes to subverting my artistic needs for anyone else's needs, no way!!! At least not at this point in my life, although I did subvert my artistic needs while raising my children but was always, always, always torn and frustrated and unhappy.


Harriet, those two lines you quoted above have been some of my favorites also. It expresses so well the boredome of the mundane social conventions, the willingness to build something beautiful instead of something safe---and I think that is precisely why an artist is difficult to live with and be around over a long period. Most people do prefer safety, and they prefer to "fit". An artist doesn't give a damn about that and will risk everything to express what needs to come out. That's very hard to deal with because sometimes it seems so terribly selfish. And it is in the short span of things, but not in the long span of history, because an artist will end up giving of himself for generations by his/her art. How much poorer the world would be if Michaelangelo, vanGogh, Mozart had sidetracked their need to express to become conventional and "fit". So it all depends on perspective. I for one know that when I am "in tune" with an artist, they speak to me personally across hundreds of years and generations, and they are still giving of themselves to me, and therefore I love them no matter how difficult and erratic they may be while alive. That's how I feel about Millay. Her poems have touched my heart in so many ways that I don't really care how eccentric or hard she was to live with or how selfish she was, or whether she ever really loved anyone at all because, I do know she loved the world as a "whole" to be able to write the way she did. It's like a religious contemplative in a way, they serve the world by getting away from the world, a contemplative does so physically, and an artist such as she was does it emotionally.

Mountain Gal and Harriet ...I think you both have hit upon the fascination and appreciation of Edna...for she may have loved to be loved and most likely NEEDED that more than most but the bottom line it was LIFE itself she was enamoured with...AND I think if we have given into life's demands to fit in then we appreciate someone who really said "To Hell with demands and proper behaviour. I will beat my own drum and LIVE life to the fullest"

Now I know many will think she was foolish and unwise and most likely a heathen as well but I cant judge her....her poetry TOUCHES a me that needs it and I dont see her writing the way she did or about the things she writes about if she had taken the easy way out ...become the dutiful house wife, the good mother etc..the responsible neighbor. So she gives us what we cant give ourselves...LOL although I am closer to that as a single lady now than before...I even have friends who envy my freedom and surprisingly from those who have been married and are still married for 50 years or more.

Ah well Edna you did it all for me....anna

And for me, also, ANNA, MOUNTAINGAL, everyone.

It's a sad fact that, in our times, the artistic temperament might sometimes be appreciated LESS in life than afterwards. There are no messy odds and ends to consider in a PERSONALLY hurtful context about her interrelationships or morality later on.

Isn't it a gift to all of us that the ESSENCE of Edna can continue to exert her siren call of beauty and wit for the world? I can hardly wait to talk about the marvelous stuff she wrote in her Greenwich Village period.

Harriet

at the singles/solitaire site where I have posted one of my "social experiments" which I am wont to do just for the fun of it. I will just copy the last post here because it does sort of explain the position that the female artist is in as far as relationships go:

While I was placing internet ads I did a little experiment. I placed an ad that had all the ordinary wording, you know, the "romantic, sense of humor, dine by candlelight, kind, loves to hold hands and slow dance" bit, and got tons of replies. But I also placed another ad which advertised for a male mistress----you know, the way men have had for centuries----a person at their beck and call while they do the "great?" work of the world such as running business and governments and churches and creating art. I was very blunt about it, said that I am an artist, that I did NOT want a clinging vine, that I needed a lot of time alone, and that the relationship would be on my terms, that I wanted someone to play with when I was ready to come away from my work and come up for air. I NEVER RECEIVED A SINGLE REPLY TO THAT ONE. It seems that only women are mistresses, forever waiting while he does whatever he does, including having a wife and family, and then being available when he wants to play. But if you turn that around there are no takers. So that make me wonder what it is in us females that allows us to put ourselves into that position. Obviously, at least to me, the men refuse to put themselves there, or you'd think I would have had at least one reply. But frankly, at this point in my life when I am concentrating on my art and not on a relationship, that is exactly what I want---a male mistress---no grand committment, my terms only, someone to handle the mundane details of life while I do important work. But they are nowhere to be found that I can tell. Hahahahaha! So I guess I'll have to go it alone. Just thought it would be interesting to see what happens when I play the game of "turn-about's fair play".

After Vassar, Edna had a whole series of firsts. She gravitated to an enclave of creative intellectuals from many of the arts, had her first heterosexual affair, and worked at talking "dirty," a style that was totally foreign to her earliest upbringing. Apparently our golden poetess wanted to fit herself into the liberated group of artists she found herself among, and even SHE turned an attentive ear to the tattoo of their irregular drum. I smile, picturing her practicing her shocking phrases, so they would flow trippingly from her mouth when she talked with them.

Edna was freed from the Vassar strictures of Miss Dow and now began to write some of the thoughts that she must have been afraid to write in college because she KNEW Miss Dow would have disapproved. I love the wit, and all encompassing truth of The Penitent. Edna is young, and the world is before her. Life is waiting for her to taste and explore. Why should there be regrets?

THE PENITENT

I had a little Sorrow,
Born of a little Sin,
I found a room all damp with gloom
And shut us all within;
And, "Little Sorrow, weep," said I,
"And, Little Sin, pray God to die,
And I upon the floor will lie
And think how bad I've been!"


Alas for pious planning - -
It mattered not a whit!
As far as gloom went in that room,
The lamp might have been lit!
My little Sorrow would not weep,
My little Sin would go to sleep --
To save my soul I could not keep
My graceless mind on it!


So I got up in anger,
And took a book I had,
And put a ribbon on my hair
To please a passing lad,
And, "One thing there's no getting by --
I've been a wicked girl," said I:
"But if I can't be sorry, why,
I might as well be glad!"


Edna St. Vincent Millay

Hey, how about that? I just love it!

Harriet

I think we cross posted, MountainGal, so I didn't see your post until I entered mine.

I adore the sense of humor and exploration that impelled that ad. However, an ad in a kinkier publication might have yielded different results? Of course, that might involve a whole different and riskier genre of relationships?

I agree that your average, more "normal" guy would not have responded to that ad. But then a "normal" woman with a moderate degree of self interest might have avoided that ad also.

I also agree that women wind up accomodating men in that manner much more frequently, but I wonder if they don't just fall into those relationships AFTER the fact. Maybe they meet and fall in love with a guy first, and later slide into the "plaything" relationship after their emotions are hopelessly engaged?

Quite a few men found themselves in that exact "plaything" role with Edna during her lifetime, but I doubt that they would have WISHED for that type of relationship initially. Edna wrote a marvelous poem, Thursday, that reversed the usual gender roles and expressed an essentially masculine view of sex. I'll come back and type it in later.

On the whole, I do agree with you though, about the essential willingness of women to defer to men, MountainGal.

Hi, BRUMIE? What's up?

Harriet

and turning things upside-down is what artists are good at, and her cheeky attitude about the "conventional" guilt feelings she was "supposed to have" regarding so-called sin is very well expressed in the poem you posted above. I love it!


I do agree with you that most women "fall" into those relationships after their emotions have been engaged, but I doubt very many men would fall into the same, and if they did they would not stay there very long the way women do. So I admire women like Edna who snub their noses at convention and meander on their own unique creative paths. She probably intuited that a relationship with a man would put her in chains, and so she broke their hearts instead and left them as husbands for the more conventional girls. The thing is that I doubt she knew herself why she acted as she did. Until quite recently there really hadn't been much research done into the creative personality, and I'm sure that often made life difficult for her. I think when you know WHY you are the way you are and there is a some insight into it, it can be analyzed more easily and the same sort of puzzling guilt is not there. But in her day I bet she was often puzzled by her own actions and had no clue why she did what she did or reacted in ways she reacted. Actually, an interview with here right now in this time and place with what we have learned would be fascinating.
Looking forward to the next poem!

OH, YOU ARE ALL SO MUCH FUN! YOUR POSTS ARE SO STIMULATING TO MY THOUGHT PROCESSES THAT I COULD SIT AND READ THEM ALL OVER AGAIN AND I WANT TO COMMENT ON EVERYONE'S!

A male mistress! A male mister - a male plaything!! Hahaha - Now, Mountaingal, if you offered money, a handsome salary,you might have been rewarded with replies.

I can't agree entirely with all your comments, but I'll save my arguments for another day! I wish we could all be sitting around a table - preferably one with lots of food (and why not, at least tea and cookies) and have the whole afternoon to talk of such matters.

But we have Edna's life to talk about here and Edna "needed a man's voice in her life" - a man's love - MEN!!! And she had no trouble getting them!

THE BOHEMIAN STAGE OF EDNA MILLAY'S LIFE IS ABOUT TO BEGIN!

Sounds fun, doesn't it - I think we all know what the word means, but just out of fun I learned it up in the Dictionary - "A person with artistic or literary interests who disregards conventional standards of behavior."

That's our Edna Millay, as we will soon discover!

She finally, after several attempts, found what was described as a little hall bedroom on West 9th Street in New York and wrote Norma to come stay with her stating that they were "bound to succeed-can't keep us down-I'm all enthusiasm and good courage about it. So come on out, my dear old sweet Sister,-and we'll open our oysters together."

Don't you love her originality - -"we'll open our oysters together."

And her love youth and zest for life!

Although later, Norma says they nearly froze - stayed in bed together for two days just to keep warm - but EM's bound copies of "RENASCENCE" was published, December 17, 1917.

Okay, ANNA - here's another type of poem - what type of poem is it: (one stanza from "TAVERN")

I'll keep a little tavern
Below the high hill's crest,
Wherein all grey-eyed people
May set them down and rest.

Second and fourth line rhymes!

One of us (Brumie - you are good at digging stuff on the Internet, can you find the types of poems - what they are called?) must find out, my curiousity is making me scratch!!!

EM has her first intimate affair and with, of course, an artistic playwright, described as "bland and milky, with lank pale hair drawn like a wing across his wide brown eyes as pale as his skin." Certainly not a very exciting fellow, one would think, from that description and afterwards she exclaims - "I shall have many lovers!"

Just what all men want to hear after intimate moments? Hahaha We should have a man in this discussion!!

But EM knows herself very well - "Never ask a girl poet to marry you" she says, after the young man asked, and continued to ask her relentlessly to marry him, and said she was not one to cook his meals and iron his shirts - I wonder if she ironed her own clothes???

Remember the hours we spent ironing- well, I do and I don't regret them at all. I loved freshly starched clothes, clothes that had been hung outside and had this wonderful smell, and starched petticoats that I dressed my little girl in, little blouses with puffed sleeves. My daughter wore one of the first wool skirts that you could wash - I couldn't believe the tag on it was truthful until I washed it and it was like new!

Oh, the new materials for clothing, for cooking, for storing we have seen in our lifetime!

"FIRST FIG" is the name of "My candle burns at both ends…….?" Who can explain that? The poem that was destined to become the "anthem of her generation" with a title of "FIRST FIG?"

What does a fig have to do with that poem!!!! WHO CAN TELL ME?

Back tonight after dinner! It's such a lovely day, I've worked outside some ---Ah, spring is coming!

Hi Mountaingal - I think you just posted about the same time - I always have to correct my post as I type fast and make upteem mistakes, you wouldn't recognize what I'm saying unless I read it over myself.

You want another poem for us to ponder over! Let me look for a good one in the book, and meantime you think about that title -FIRST FIG!!

Okay, here's one, but I must give an explanation. Th slim, elegant, good looking, married, Englishman - Arthur - is back in her life and is leaving for war, very dashing in his uniform, and they corresponded and glory be! this man could write poems, love sonnets to her!

When he received Edna's first letter he destroyed it because he was afraid it might fall into his wife's possession it was so ardent!

Here's a poem she sent to him:

Into the golden vessel of great song
Let us pour all our passion; breast to breast
Let other lovers lie, in love and rest;
Not we,-articulate, so, but with the tongue
Of all the world: the churning blood, the long
shuddering quiet, the desperate hot palms pressed
Sharply together upon the escaping guest,
the common soul, unguarded, and grown strong.
Longing alone is singer to the lute;
Let still on nettles in the open sigh
The minstrel, that in slumber is as mute
As any man, and love be far and high,
That else forsakes the topmost branch, a fruit
Found on the ground by every passer-by>

What do all of you make of this one? Again a "fruit - found on the ground by every passerby" Is that love she is talking about?

was used even when I was young but dates back to Victorian days, which went, "I don't give a fig about that!" I would imagine that's what she meant, that she didn't give a "fig" about what people said was proper or healthy or any of that--that she was just hungry for life, all of it, even it consumed her, and that's all she gave a fig about (first fig?, primary fig?).

I have some thoughts on it---that ordinary love that can be found on the ground by almost everyone is not her cuppa tea---that she wants all of it, the best which is on the highest branch, the physical part of love, the emotional part of love, the intellectual (articulate) part of love---and that nothing less will do for her. Maybe she even felt that she had it for a while with Arthur. But some of the wording does leave me puzzled, and I'd love to hear the opinions of everyone else as to what she means here.

This is a woman who is in love with language. with the ebb and flow of words ..not just any words but words that catch your breath, make you see, feel what she feels ..perhaps not what she sees but what she feels.

A man unable to talk with her would bore her to tears ... she would want to express her feelings openly, she would want to hear his reply and it better be intelligent or like the Queen in Alice she would say OFF WITH THEIR HEADS ...at least begone....so I think your right to think an ordinary man would not suit her. And when she bacame involved if they proved they were no match for her passion , for her love of life she would dismiss them.

When my husband died I was so surprised to find it was our conversations I missed the most..Everything was catalyst to conversation. A few times we had to walk away from a discussion because it was never going to be resolved. He truly tried as I did to see the others point of view but I believe it would take a rare man especially and a rare woman too to truly understand the opposite gender well.

God Bless my husband though he did try,, when we were only married about a year I woke one night and felt such lonliness..My parents home had been alive all hours of the day and night and most evenings I could waken and if I chose join someone in sharing a bite to eat or just talking. So this night I woke him up about 2 am now we were both in school , both holding down jobs etc so we really needed our sleep..When he asked what was wrong I told him I was lonely and I wanted someone to talk to. To his everlasting credit he said just a minute..fixed the pillows so we could talk. Got up and found a cigarette ..sat beside me on the pillows, lit his cigarette and put his arm about me and said Now what would you like to talk about? no fussing, no whining or complaining but just this wonderful conversation. I am not sure what we talked about but we did for at least an hour when I was tired and ready to go to sleep and then we did just that,...It was in my mind the most intimate thing we did in our marriage..those late night chats or chats ...period...Our other intimate life was dear and wonderful but the conversations are what remain in my mind and it is what I cherish the most. For it said I love your mind as well as the rest of you. I think that is what Edna wanted ...someone to love her mind ..to try her poems on ., to run her thoughts by and recieve honest answers. Yes she wanted the rest too but not if that meant she gave up the essence of herself.

I have to say you give me so much to think about ...and so much to re read and comment on...I have to re read First Fig ...does she use that more than once because when I read a poem with that title I thought of Adam and Eve. Now I cant remembe why so I have to return and see why I thought that...

Gads you are all so good! And Mountain Gal when my husband died I had to seek the help of a phychiatrist and in one session he asked how my husband treated me. In rather an astonished voice I said Like and equal of course! How could he ask what was so obvious to me? Then he said there lies your problem ..most widows I counsel tell me just the opposite..the man made all the decisions, often they never knew what his salary was or how it was spent. She prepared the meals HE wanted ..raised the children the way he thought best..You had such automony in your marriage I doubt if you will ever find another person like your husband...

He was wrong but I was lucky...anna

Oh, wow! So much to consider. I'm going to mull a bit on all these wonderful thoughts, and type in the poem I promised a few posts back.

Thursday


And if I loved you Wednesday,
Well, what is that to you?
I do not love you Thursday--
So much is true.


And why you come complaining
Is more than I can see.
I loved you Wednesday,--yes--but what
Is that to me?


Edna St. Vincent Millay

Now, wouldn't you say Ms. Millay was a woman who gives as GOOD or BETTER than she gets, in the war of the sexes???

Harriet

Found an interesting site. See what you all think.

http://www.english.uiuc.edu click Links then Modern American Poetry

Let me know if it works

Brumie, you are a wonder! What a find! To wax poetic,"Had I but world enough and time...," I would be content to spend it browsing here. Just for example, it seems we weren't playing with a full deck when we tried to analyze Millay's lines about "savage beauty."

Surprise! There's an initial stanza to the poem that clarifies things a bit. The name of the poem is Assault and here is the more complete version. I am quoting from Brumie's website.

"Assault" (1921) is a nature poem with an especially sexualized—or, more accurately, gendered—framework. The speaker depicts herself as a vulnerable woman in a desolate place in fear of being "raped" by Beauty.

Assault

I had forgotten how the frogs must sound
After a year of silence, else I think
I should not so have ventured forth alone
At dusk upon this unfrequented road.


I am waylaid by Beauty. Who will walk
Between me and the crying of the frogs?
Oh, savage Beauty, suffer me to pass,
That am a timid woman, on her way
From one house to another!

What is remarkable about this poem is the contrast between the concreteness of the woman, her situation, and her sense of imperilment, on the one hand, and the abstractness of the threat itself as Beauty on the other...

Well, you get the idea. It's impossible to reprint the full extent of all the nice things here. Brumie has found a site that discusses and interprets major pieces of poetry. I found the lines I reproduced here in the link about Greenwich Village. Brumie, you're so-o-o good at research!

I've provided a link directly to Edna Millay's work, but if the rest of you want to follow Brumie's instructions first, there are also interpretations of the works of E. E. Cummings, Emily Dickenson, T. S. Eliot, to name only a few, in alphabetical order. Brumie, you found a treasure trove that will take WEEKS to go through.

Millay's Poetry--Interpretations

Thank you so much. We can still have all the fun we want interpreting the poems ourselves, but if we get stuck, here's a great resource. I haven't explored all of the poems covered yet. If anyone happens to find an interpretation of the sonnet we were all puzzling over a few posts back, please give a shout. I can't figure out most of the second half.

How wonderful, Brumie.

Harriet

That was a great link and one that shows what a versitile person she was. And certainly an interesting and fascinating poet. I love reading everyone's post and am so glad Ella and Harriet invited me to be here with everyone. Have a great day and this will be a busy weekend for me so I am not sure how or if I will be here until Mon..which come to think of it will be busy too.

While I cherish the time when I can write my poems and essays or spend my hours here ...I seem to be caught in my old life in ways that require me to give my time and efforts to a number of causes. The next three days will be spent that way..instead of reading again "OUR BOOK" and enjoying the wonderful poetry of this lady.

Well when I do these things I often say I am earning "Stars for my crown"

have a great weekend ...anna

I returned and found the places you mentioned. It is interesting to me to see how her poems are interpreted. But since we dont KNOW what she was really thinking or why she wrote the way she did our own interpretations I think are just as valid. As I mentioned early each person brings to art their own expierence so what a painting or a poem says to us depends on what we ourselves have been seen or felt.

I no longer can recall the modern poet who was asked what a particular poem meant and he replied Whatever you think it means. He refused to even try to explain his thinking or reasons for writing what he wrote. To me that means he understood each of us interpret for ourselves.

I am reminded of the judge who gave my poem third place and her remarks ...I never told her but they were far off the mark of why I wrote the poem and what I felt. What I think is interesting she is a professor in Va and teaches poetry ...And tells me she has used that poem many times in her classes. So someday at our poetry society meetings I expect to meet someone from one of her classes that will tell me how clear she made my poem!

Poetry to me is to enjoy and savor ..not to dissect necessarily or do a post mortem exam on each. IMHO....anna

And, indeed, ANNA, I think the poets meant for us to SAVOR AND ENJOY...good observation. Do come back to us soon - we love your posts, but understand your need to do other things, particularly those involving "stars in your crown," must not ever overlook those!

Wonderful site, BRUMIE, thanks so much and I'm going to add that to the header. I've read a couple of analysis of different poems, not that I understand even the analysis - Mercy!!! Beautiful pictures at that site, though.

MOUNTAINGAL - yes, yes! I remember that expression - "I don't give a fig for that." Doesn't tell us why the "fig" though in the first place does it? What does a "fig" stand for, it must mean something. If I get the time today I'll search for the meaning of "fig."

BRUMIE - want to help? Hahaha - you are so good at that!

Meanwhile, let's get back to our subject - our poet!

Faithless to any man, Edna could and was faithful to her family. During the next year Edna started making money, publishing her poems in a periodical entitled Ainslee's, the Magazine That Entertains and from November, 1918 until October 1920 the editor bought and published 23 poems and 8 pieces of her fiction, thus enabling her to move into larger quarters -" the top floor of 25 Charlton Street, a lovely old redbrick town house with a stoop out front and a tiny garden at the rear," and she invited Cora to come join Norma and herself, with the younger sister, Kathleen, still at Vassar but feeling left out and homesick for her family. Within a year, Kathleen would join the rest of the family and they were all together again.

Cora answered the invitation by saying: Dearlings, I'll come just when you want me…I can stand any heat or anything else you can. I can sew, nurse, or do the heads to match those hats next fall.

Love that expression "Dearlings" - don't you?

Edna was also getting roles as an actress in the Provincetown Players, a lively group in NY at the time, and just look at who was writing plays for this group! John Reed, Eugene O'Neill, William Carlos Willliams, e.e.cummings, Sherwood Anderson - among others. Edna and all of the Millays were involved in an extraordinary play written by Eugene O'Neill titled "MOON OF THE CARIBBEES" -

"It was a mood play, and the Millay family provided the background music, which set the mood. The Millays, with Ma Millay, too, had this special musical ability-it was their own, the first of its kind really-a crooning group. As I remember, they stood behind the scenery - it was all swooping vocal haronies - they weren't seen, and -well, it was unearthly." - Susan Jenkins Brown, wife of one of the Playhouse's founders."

I looked up one of the O'Neill sites on the Internet - there are many - and found the playbill of this play and thought you might enjoy seeing it:

Moon of the Caribbees

Anyone familiar with this play? I read the biography of O'Neill sometime ago, a sad and tragic man, but with a famous daughter who you all will recognize - Oona O'Neill Chaplin, wife of Charlie, mother of (?) children. So many!

Thanks, HARRIET, for your post on the "ASSAULT" poem - I'm not sure but what I liked our own analysis best - haha - because this:

"a nature poem with an especially sexualized—or, more accurately, gendered—framework. The speaker depicts herself as a vulnerable woman in a desolate place in fear of being "raped" by Beauty."

is confusing to me!!! Can one be afraid of being raped by beauty!!!

What am I missing here? Can someone fill me in?

And the poem is "sexualized" - what does that mean?

Will you let us read YOUR poem, or at least one of them, sometime during our discussion? I would be thrilled and honored, ANNA. I tend to begin to feel close to people during a discussion. As we all talk together I enjoy our conversations of the mind. One of your poems would provide a meeting of the heart also. How nice if you would! Enjoy your weekend, and look in on us when you can.

I think we are doing such a wonderful thing by talking about poetry together, especially those of us who are new to it. T. S. Eliot once called poetry "a raid on the inarticulate." I think I shall never again be as incurious about poetry as I was before we began this venture. How golden it is! Here's another view of poetry: "the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings (William Wordsworth)."

You know, there were two Arthurs in Edna's life, and I get mixed up between them. One of them was Arthur Hooley, editor of the FORUM. and the other was Arthur Ficke, a writer and poet of some note himself, who was Edna's friend through all of her life. Ficke was a debonair fellow with a mustache, bisexual, also married-but-it-didn't-seem-to-matter-much. There are photos of Arthur Ficke in the center of the book.

I wish Nancy Milford would be careful to CLEARLY let us know which Arthur she's talking about in the book.

more...

Harriet

On p. 189, Edna has a playful evening in the company of two of her former? lovers. For fun, they each decide to write a poetic self portrait. There is no way to tell if this is how Edna REALLY sees herself or if this is how she wants those around her to perceive her. Anyway, I thought it was interesting.

Hair which she still devoutly trusts is red.
Colorless eyes, employing
A childish wonder
To which they have no statistic
Title.
A large mouth,
Lascivious,
Asceticized by blasphemies.
A long throat,
Which will someday be strangled.
Thin arms,
In the summer-time leopard
With freckles.
A small body,
Unexclamatory,
But which,
Were it the fashion to wear no clothes,
Would be as well dressed
As any.

These two lines..."A long throat, Which will someday be strangled."...are they a rueful concession to the grief and frustration she must have often caused for the two men who were sharing her company that evening? In the course of her relationship with each, had the men ever said to her something like..."I could just STRANGLE you, Vincent!"

I wonder, did the men laugh when they read those lines? Did Edna write those lines to MAKE then laugh?

Harriet

poetry and didn't understand most of it. What I did come away with though, is the very sentiment I expressed in my first post, that Millay's poetry came out of her but stands apart from her as art, and that the interpretations these scholars give to her poetry reduces almost everything to human sexuality---which to me is extremely limiting and boring---a great big yawn! The poems may very well have come out of her sexual experience, but once she puts pen to paper they encompass SO MUCH MORE, and I don't understand why her poems have to be reduced in such a mundane and trivial way when they could encompass "universal human experience", love, loss, longing, mysticism, religious experience, birth and death, every emotion that human beings have felt from time immemorial. She expresses herself so passionately that to keep her words in only in the sexual realm seems to me to shortchange her poetry and limit it tremendously and almost insultingly. So I disagree with almost everything I read, even though it was very interesting. (Oh my, I would love to hear Edna analyze her own poetry instead of others speaking for her.)


I think it was Ella who asked about the meaning of "being raped by beauty". It's hard to explain because that is a very "mystical" experience, and it has nothing at all to do with being raped by a man. It's that passionate bubbling spring that arises in some people where the beauty of life and living and nature hits them so squarely that they become weak in the knees. When it comes it is almost as if you want to dissolve your "self" into the whole cosmos and become one with it (a merging with God?), and when it's over a person is emotionally exhausted and devastated because the moment did not last. At least that is my interpretation of it because I have those experiences frequently when I'm out in nature. They are beyond language because we have no words for them, but her expression of "being raped by beauty" is what it feels like. You were overpowered and left bleeding and longing. However, to my mind it's not a negative connotation, but a positive one in that you want to leave yourself behind and merge and disappear into nature (God?) and be one with ALL. So to leave it at the human sexual level, again, limits the poem which actually irritates me a bit and leaves me a bit sad.

I spent a good part of the night reading her poems, and came away exhausted, and I think that is also why, further back where someone says "one does not deliberately choose a poet as a friend" makes sense. To her, obviously, there was no subject that was taboo, and she speaks of them with raw uncensored emotion---she speaks about love and death and confusion, one minute wanting to die and the next wanting to live, wanting to get away from her life and her duties, but knowing that is really all there is. It's exhausting. Most social interaction is very benign, with pretty, safe words and emotions, compliments and trivia, surface stuff. In her poetry at least, she despises all of that and gets right down and dirty into the nitty-gritty of life, and you sort of come away with your head spinning. Most of us have all those feelings, which is why we can relate to her poetry, but in every-day life they come at us slowly, one at a time and are not overwhelming as they are in her poems. So yes, being with a poet who is in the process of writing poetry, like being with a genius artist, is exhausting. There are no filters. Life's emotions are bare and raw with no safe veneer and come at you uncensored and in bunches, so it's overwhelming.

Anyhow, that's my take on it. I'm sure the critics would disagree, but I seem to always be a minority of one, even in high school when I argued with my English teacher about what a poem REALLY meant and ended up getting a worse grade than I really deserved. Hahahaha!

I think the reason she uses the word "raped" is because the feelings that she's talking about come at one unexpectedly, often without consent, and they dissolve the ego between the "self" and the ALL. Does that make sense?

MountainGal, as a retired teacher of younger children, I'm shocked and sorry to hear that any teacher ever penalized you for bearing a different opinion from his, and defending that opinion. I've always felt that there's nothing more important in teaching than accepting flexibility of thought, and encouraging the creative ideas that come from it. I notice that you remember that experience explicitly and I cringe to think you might feel that the vindictive attitude of that particular teacher is typical.

I would think that the passion and articulation with which you must have expressed your opinion would have been enough to thrill any teacher, because it's evidence of a thinking, feeling brain beneath the surface. I'm going to venture a personal guess about his motivation..

Perhaps that teacher felt himself overwhelmed, because he just wasn't SMART enough to keep up his end of a stimulating dialogue with a bright, young almost-adult person who was honoring him with her opinions. He was also petty enough to want to establish his power in return. I can think of no other reason why any teacher would resort to the final academic power ploy of undergrading a sensitive, bright youngster.

Seems to me that a student who approaches a teacher to communicate about his major subject interest, English, SHOULD be a dream come true. Even if the youngster were initially hostile, it stands to reason that a mutual love of literature and ideas could have helped that teacher build a bridge of dialogue without the necessity of agreeing on specific points.

Truth to tell, what could have been the harm of that teacher going along with a student's interpretation, just for the pleasure of hearing the thread of reasoning and feeling that motivated her? What an opportunity that teacher missed to enjoy communicating with an involved youngster!

Anyway, this elderly teacher expresses regrets to the young person you once were.

Harriet

I guess I had put it out of my mind about how much I was hurt by that teacher (a female, by the way), and I had even forgotten that she was the reason I never delved into poetry again until recently. We had argued about Robert Frost's "Stopping By The Woods On a Snowy Evening", where she felt the ONLY interpretation for that poem was a longing for death and I saw it as something else. In fact, I remember feeling shocked because death had never even occurred to me when I read that poem, and until that moment in time it had been one of my favorite poems. But we argued in front of the whole class because I had given my interpretation and she just couldn't accept it and rebutted that, so I rebutted back with my evidence. I guess I was always sort of ornery. But I now recall that from that moment on, because she was the teacher and she was supposedly "RIGHT", and apparently according to her I had missed the mark so widely, that I never attempted poetry again until in the last five to ten years. It was Millay who aroused my passion for poetry again--I wanted so badly to understand what she said because her language just resonated inside of me.


Come to think of it, I think it was from some of my teachers that I realized I was marching to my own drum, because I often disagreed with them on things. One time I pointed out a mistake a professor was teaching in a " deductive logic" class in college, brought all the evidence in---piles and piles of evidence, to support my point---and he never saw it. I bet he's still teaching it the same way. I think I must have been one of those kids a teacher either loved and felt good about, or hated because they didn't quite know what to do with me. I'm still the same. Hahahaha!

But you know, I don't mind, really, those experiences. I think confrontation like that builds an inner strength and it all fits somehow into God's plan in the end. Maybe God wanted me to be an artist instead of a poet and so he used a teacher to NIX the poet part in me. LOL. I remember I did not change my mind about what I thought the poem meant. I just believed she was limited and went on with life, but I felt "different", like a square peg in a round hole. Unless we knuckle under, that sort of thing seems to build inner strength, and looking back I find it interesting, and funny that I never noticed it until you said what you said above. Obviously I still love poetry, even write some myself once in a while when the muse strikes. And I also wonder how many of my classmates who did not argue with her lost interest in poetry because of her strict one-way interpretation. Interesting thoughts you have conjured up in my mind.


But I also had wonderful teachers that I remember. English was a second language for me as my mother tongue is German, and one English teacher in particular was so excited about English Literature that her excitement was just catching. To this day I think of her when I find "just the right word" in English to be able to express what I feel.

But life is like that: Whatever doesn't kill you makes you either bitter or better. I think I've always at least tried to chose the "better" part. We have to go through the fire to become strong steel. Funny how you noticed that when I didn't even think about it as I was writing it.

Wonderful post Mountaingal (you're last).

Harriet, wish I had teachers like you in grade school. I had horrible teachers, impatient and hateful. I only remember one or two teachers who were kind. Also in grade school we had a grade system A students, B students, C students, D students, etc. I was placed in one of the lower classes. From that day forward I've struggled with self confidence and realized I had a learning disability and that is dyslexia. But I found ways to deal with it throughout my life.

I was a person who did not like to read and would read one book a year. About ten years ago I began to read read and read. Reading stirred up a desire to want to learn. You might say I'm a late blossom.

Sorry to get off on the discussion but Mountaingal and Harriet you brought up much to think about. I'll add one more thing. Renascence was a real achievement because poems just don't open up to me nor do I feel them as I did this one. I love that poem.

I cant tell you Mountain Gal how pleased I am with your interprtation of Robert Frost's poem Like you it has always been a favorite of mine and while my argument was not with a teacher when I was young but with a professor when I was older it was the same. He insisted it was about death and I insisted it was no such thing.

And your feeling about Millay's poem not being about sexualiity ...I agree ..the critic has trivialized her talent. We are all sexual beings and I have written some poems that could be accused of being sexual but they were attempts to reach a level deep inside of me ...one that is not easy to uncover because it is covered over with all the restrictions society places on us.

And I am so GLAD you have found poetry or it has found you. Poetry carried me through so many phases of my life. As an only girl in a family of five boys living a lower middle class life poetry took me everywhere. It made me a better person, taught me life, opened the doors in my mind and ;et me trust feelings that the world would suppress. I know it has made me a better person because it opened my thinking to the feelings of others and enabled me to share their joy and their pain. There isnt one facet of my life where poetry hasnt given me understanding beyond my years when I was young and now it still reminds me that life is always worth living and the heart and soul can be awakened to beauty.

I did find the poem I wrote and will copy and share with everyone...

My day started early but I couldnt resist coming here ...Here I feel I am with relatives of my heart ....anna

GOOD MORNING EVERYONE!

Have just a few minutes (but will be back this afternoon); however, after reading all your posts I am so struck by your comments that I must say something and say it quickly.

MOUNTAINGAL - you are one beautiful lady and I love to read your posts. I have never been "raped by nature" in that sense nor have I felt this:

It's that passionate bubbling spring that arises in some people where the beauty of life and living and nature hits them so squarely that they become weak in the knees. When it comes it is almost as if you want to dissolve your "self" into the whole cosmos and become one with it (a merging with God?), and when it's over a person is emotionally exhausted and devastated because the moment did not last.

Obviously, I don't have a poetical soul, but I do love nature, it's peaceful - I feel love and contentment when I walk in the woods, or pick up a flower and study its color - its delicacy, or remark on the beauty of a carrot or a beet! My husband and I both love beets in any form and we never have them but what he remarks that the color of beet juice is the most beautiful color he has ever seen and cannot be duplicated anywhere.

I do believe that God, or whomever you believe in, for some reason we don't understand has made the animal kingdom, of which we are kin, very violent - it preys on the weak; but God's glory and love has been poured in o nature for us to observe and love. It's his proof that he exists.

Am not a very religious person, but I do have this abiding love of all things natural, all things in nature, all things that man cannot understand, cannot match.

The poem you quoted (Robert Frost wasn't it) - I don't have time this morning to look it up - but as we have all said here before we look at poems differently and that one has been a favorite and these last lines:

I have miles to go before I sleep
miles to go before I sleep
And Promises to Keep.

have sustained me in moments, hours and days of despair in my life. I will not go into detail as it is very personal but we owe the living the best that we can do, those to whom we have "promises to keep."

It's a beautiful poem and one that has stayed with me forever.

Millay's poetry has not yet touched a chord within me, I appreciate that it comes from an essence that is not the part that she lives, the part that she shares with others or cares to share with others.

Don't we all have those parts - the id, the ego, the superego.

The "I", the "me", the "myself".

HARRIET - thanks so much for your posts! You are very wise and I always agree wholeheartedly with what you express in your posts. Some teachers do not realize the impact they have on our lives, the memories we will carry with us always!

BRUMIE - I'm delighted that Millay's poem touched you in special ways and that you are enjoying her poems and that you have found the wonders contained in books, how they open up your mind to ideas never thought of before and you can't know how much it means to hear that this book and this discussion has meant much to you.

But how terrible that you had such horrid teachers; I have fond memories of good teachers, ones that cared - that really tried to impress upon us the value of learning (all except algebra, the poor fellow never knew how frightened I was of his class).

Running out of time, must go - as you all have been so honest in your messages I felt I had to open up a bit personally; but it is something I rarely do. I'm a very private person, a somewhat solitary person, perhaps that is why I love to read and discuss books.

Thank you all so much for what you have brought to the table in our conversations here! It truly means a lot!

later - e.g.

Brumie, I've taken part in discussions with you before, and I've always felt you had wonderful, thoughtful things to contribute. MountainGal said it so well. Sometimes adversity builds inner strength and makes a person stronger and better. That certainly seems to be the case with you.

I've also felt that poetry was a tough nut to crack for those of us who like to deal with concrete things. Look at the definitions given by poets. T. S. Eliot called it "a raid on the inarticulate." What an abstraction! If we try to understand it with our mind alone, why that's like trying to hold onto...what was it Millay said in one of her poems..."a butterfly's wing?"

Anna and MountainGal have both expressed several times that poetry is something that is individually felt in different ways by different people. If the measure of understanding poetry is the pleasure it creates and the new thought tracks it begins, why you, Brumie, are a STAR.

I'm sharing this adventure with you also, into the heart and feelings of Edna St. Vincent Millay. I guess before I started the book, the only thing I knew about her was, My candle burns at both ends... I'm so glad I'm doing it, and I'm so glad Brumie, that you, and ALL of us are here together.

Anna, it's wonderful that you found your poem. I too feel a relationship of the heart with all of you. You've pointed out a tender and joyful connection that we share as we talk together.

Thank you all...

Harriet

Hi HARRIET AND ANNNA!

Have you had your coffee and toast yet?

I'm on my way to getting that right now -

Love your posts, you both say it so well, I feel terribly inadequate, inarticulate!

See you both after awhile!

Ella, WHO says you don't have a poetic soul??? You're sure moving me!

On towards my coffee.

Harriet

Over grapefruit, coffee and toast -

HI THERE, HARRIET!

Perhaps why I'm not as moved by Millay's poetry as the rest of you is because I DON'T LIKE THE WOMAN; hence, don't like her poetry! I'd better not read the life of Robert Frost.

But Edna is fickle in all her relationships, I would not want her for a friend, does she have many female friends?

Fascinating to read about - her life is, yes, yes. And the times within which she lived. Do you suppose that had anything at all to do with her wayward behavior? I don't think I would like her family, particularly either. Woman sitting around practicing "vulgar" words so that they could say them easily in public?

I had my wild fling (such as it was) when I was young - hahaha! It pales in comparison with Edna, but vulgar language was not part of it!

later, later, later, must run........

researching another word I came upon UNDINE in bold letters and read the meaning...in folk lore she is a water sprite that in order to gain a soul must mate with man and bear his child...

as soon as I read that a whole scenario came to my mind. I could see a couple ...he a bit older ..40 perhaps ..she a bit younger in her 30's and they were in a cottage on a secluded beach..asleep she awakes and hearing the sea feels a need to be there on the beach and leaves, He awakes to find her gone and goes to the open door and it is he speaking

 
undine  

you sylph , you water sprite,  
poised at the edge  
where radiant  moon 
 meets night .... 
 
reflected sun caught, 
sends softer rays , 
hesitates in its flight .....
 

silvery fingers  
caressing, illuminates, 
bathing you in phosphorescence ....
 

your arms  lift high  
to welcome him  
weaving silver strands  
in your hair, 
sprinkling moon dust there ......
 

loosens your garment  
to fall upon the sand , 
you pirouette 
to greet the ocean  
rushing in to claim its own ... 
 

dancing a pas de trois, 
teasing each in turn  
you run to meet  
the ocean waves .....
 

emerging ,the waters  
reluctant cling  
revealing you in  
silver splendor....
 

come back across  
the sand  
take my hand  
let me make you  
mortal   
this night .......
 

anna alexander 9/7/96

Ella I can understand your not liking Edna ...There is a lot not to like but I feel I understand her. Women only obtained the right to vote in 1920...and Edna had to be glad to see that day but I think she and many women smarted under the idea ( which remains today) that women were somehow inferior to men.

Here was a woman who had been denied a real childhood, who had adult responsibilities thrust on her when she was just a child herself, who was so enamoured of the world and all that was in it she had to write about it.

And I am not sure her poetry would have been so accepted at that time if she were not a maverick in her behaviour. Did she have female friends..certainly women championed her and she fought her battles with men to be recognized as a poet but also as a person who could make up her own mind as to how she would live and what her morals would be.

If I condemn Edna then I must condemn any man who thought it was okay to have mistresses, affairs, and do as he wished without regard to how it affected his family. Edna chose not to have children ..and heavens, being responsible for her siblings would be enough to make one think twice before having children. To me it shows a wisdom and how much better never to have children then to blame them for being children and abuse them as so many do today.

The argument that women should deny themselves their creative abilities or deny them the right to pursue a career is still with us. Why bother to educate our daughters if we tell them if you work you arent a really good mother? Why make them feel guilty when they use day care so they can work? My children, all four, were in school from the time they were 3 years old. And they are successful, social, and socially minded who are doing a wonderful job with my grandchildren who are also in day care because the mothers work. In some ways they are giving what I think I did for my own ....a chance to grow up and leave home without guilt!

As a matter of fact none of my children left home until they were married..at 25,26...the girls and 28 and 30 for the boys. They were free to go..I certainly never encouraged them to stay. But we formed a family where everyone contributed to the household in funds, in sharing responsibilties and in caring. They each took care of thier own bills etc and never once asked us for money. They were adults in every sense of the word accepting the responsibility for their own lives. That they lived home was never a factor.

I know I am straying far afield from what I started to say but I remember that while I was given enormous amount of freedom as a child my brothers were given more ..I know my mother did so with the best of reasons but it rankled my soul. Why are women castigated for the very things men seem to be praised for? Boys are forgiven for sowing wild oats and men are as well. I can forgive Edna her sowing of wild oats because what she left trancends her behaviour ...She says things about the world, about nature, about beauty that just touches me. When I sit in my sunroom with all its windows open to the nature outside and watch the birds at the feeders, the squirrels at play, and the unfolding and ending of the leaves on the trees and the coming and going of the clouds, the sunrise and sunset I feel them so deeply and Edna did too.

Please know I am not saying you should like her ...but like I said to my one daughter(about 34 at the time ) when she came down some years ago with her hair three shades, in a very pretty dress and checkered bobby socks in white and black and high heels and asked what do you think? And I smiled and said It is so YOU!!I When I read about Edna's escapades I feel the same way IT IS SO EDNA>>>anna I think Edna must have hated the phrase Boys will be boys...

conversation with intelligent people. It seems it's been such a long time for me. What fun it would be to spend an afternoon over tea and dissect Millay's poetry and then go off on all the tangents that are so interesting here. There is so much to comment about again, but I will keep it confined. Hahahah!


This is one of the reasons I don't want to read a biography of some people, just as Ella said---she doesn't LIKE Edna, and it gets in the way of the poetry. That's natural. I'm not sure I would like her either. I felt the same way when I read about Vincent van Gogh and some other artists. All of a sudden it seems to limit their art for me where before I had adored it, and it took a lot of work to get my original feelings back. It puts a human element on it when it should be sublime. Our minds can't help doing that because of the association. If we know a poem was written for a lover that was here today and gone tomorrow, it limits that poem somehow and puts a little negative spin on it; like, how could she have felt such profound feelings for someone and then thrown that person away a week later to go on to the next one? That's what the critics are doing when they put a "sexual spin" on all her poetry. But what we have to understand is that she uses whatever feelings she has at that particular moment in time as a seed to express something profound that is greater than herself or her own sordid little life.


What I try to remember, always, is that artists, whether it's painting, poetry, music, dance, writing, are all in this human muck trying to survive, and while they are surviving with all their limitations of upbringing, environment, family, self-doubt, and their society, they are reaching for something higher with their art. It's like reaching to the stars while their feet are in the mud of barnyard. And when they do that their art becomes separated from themselves and their humanness and stands on its own as cocreator with God, and it becomes universal. I've always thought of art as a prayer in a way, a wanting to be better than we are. And when society eliminates art as the first thing during budget cuts, to me it's almost a descration and sort of a stupidity that dulls life.


With artists I have read about, most often male, I have had to force myself to get past their lives which were often hopelessly negative, self-centered and self-serving, with mistresses and wives and abdoned children and alcoholism and drug abuse, weird religions and political beliefs, thievery of other ideas, jealousy, anger, self-pity---it was all there while they were creating their art. And yet their art is sublime. In a way I guess the message is that all of us can create something sublime even when we are at our worst---or at least we can reach for the stars with ideals even as we go about our limited lives and make our mistakes. I'm not sure I'm making sense again.

is just absolutely stunningly beautiful. I can see the picture in my mind---a husband who adores his wife, thinking of her as sort of a goddess, observing her with loving eyes, wanting to merge his mortal being with hers---and said so beautifully. You took a thought as a seed, and went with it, and ergo---a beautiful poem that every loving and wife and husband who have ever lived can "feel" in the very center of their being. That makes it universal and profound. Actually, everything I've read of yours has resonated with me, and you are one heck of a poetess!!! Keep going. The world needs your beautiful language.

Brumie, you have my admiration. I'm not sure if I had dyslexia I would ever have made the effort at reading the way you have. I tend to be somewhat lazy. Now I will have to read the poem Renascence just because you mentioned how it touched you.

Ella, the words you mentioned "miles to go before I sleep, but I have promises to keep" were the very words that the teacher and I argued about, and I see you would have disagreed with that teacher also. You will have to tell us about that some time, about how those very words encouraged you to go on living, because that's what they did for me too.

Harriet, with your sensitivity, I'm sure you were one of those teachers that I would have remembered as an outstandingly good one. Teachers actually have the future in their hands, and I have often believed teachers have more important jobs than any doctor or lawyer or plumber that I ever knew, and the good ones I had as a child more than balanced out the bad ones.

You are all just too interesting for words ladies!!! Thank you for this whole wonderful conversation.

Anna, I saw your poem as the essence of romance... the embodiment of a glowing fantasy of love...it's just wonderful...

Who could not be touched by it? The tenderness merges with such a sweet sensuality. I agree that you HAVE touched on universal themes. The emotions it creates in me are so...yearning and tender. Hard to describe my feelings...except that an ache from beauty that becomes too much to sustain is certainly part of it.

I'm so glad you're writing poetry, for MY sake as well as yours, Anna.

Harriet

Everything that you all have said about Edna, pro AND con, is absolutely true. Yet I keep on thinking that SHE and her poetry are the catalysts that brought US all together, and made us CARE about each other.

Good trick, no?

If I had to give my opinion, it would be closer to Anna's. I found myself feeling tender and smiling when I read the part of the book where Edna and her sisters practiced dirty language. Even she, unique little nose-thumber at the rest of the world that she was, was willing to work at conforming in order to be accepted into the rarified intellectual company of John Reed, F. Scott Fitzgerald et al, in her Greenwich Village period. If dirty language and a shock-proof attitude would help, she was willing to try.

She was no worse than many creative men of her period. I even think she had a humorous self awareness about her faults. She must have known that she was a pain-in-the-derriere to many people because of the lines she wrote in her playful self portrait. "A long throat, Which will someday be strangled... I wonder how many people had expressed that sentiment to her, only HALF in jest. I even felt tender toward her for her feminine vanity, which she expressed in that same poem.

A small body,
Unexclamatory,
But which,
Were it the fashion to wear no clothes,
Would be as well dressed
As any.

It all was, as Anna said, so very EDNA.

I suppose her constant headaches and frequent malaise can be attributed to her "lack of filters" against the world...the very condition that enhanced her poetry and made her personal life so difficult. I was not turned off by READING about her life and knowing her faults.

Of course, if I LIVED with her....?

Harriet

No, no, I'm not poetical, not even a critic of poetry, I cannot compare with Mountaingal and Anna! You both are too much - you're COOL, as the young ones today like to say!

We are so fortunate to have both of you here in our discussion, you MAKE OUR DAY! JUST STAY SO WE MAY ENJOY BOTH OF YOU AND YOUR POETRY, even when you are not writing poetry, you are speaking it (or typing it!)

Anna - that is lovely, but being practical - too practical - I tell you all I do not have your imaginative minds - or your language within me - I WANT THE POEM TO HAVE AN ENDING!!!

This last stanza:

come back across the sand
take my hand
let me make you
mortal
this night
.......

Does she become mortal? Does she bear his child?

There is a need to know!!!

You all would not like me in your world of fantasy, I want an ending!! Of course, I would just sit and revel in admiration of you if we could have tea and cookies!!

On with the book.......

Isn't it interesting (Mountaingal and Anna take note) how Edna wrote - four of her workbooks survive from this period. She wrote on the right-hand side of the page, scrawling hastily and then correcting the poem, reworking the poem on the left side - sometimes they are dated, often not.

And how did all these family members, all living closely together now, all headstrong, all independent, manage this closeness? Page 177 is revealing, don't you agree? Vincent's role was an increasingly tough one for now SHE, not Cora, was their caretaker. She sustained them all.

And not only was Edna acting in plays, she was WRITING THEM! The great drama critic of his day, Alexander Woollcott (wasn't he one of the Algonquin Round Table players?) wrote this of Edna's play "ARA DA CAPO."

"You should see this bitterly ironic little fantasy of Edna St. Vincent Millay….this is the most beautiful and most interesting play in the English language now to be seen in New York!

Heady stuff!!!!

Ella, here is my interpretation, which is strictly personal, you understand.

An adoring man sees a lovely woman in the water by moonlight. She is quite REAL and passionate, but so mystically lovely to his eyes that, in his mind, he compares her to Undine, the water nymph, because she is the essence of femininity to him. He is overwhelmed by desire and tenderness for her.

come back across
the sand
take my hand
let me make you
mortal
this night .......

In essence he is offering one of the most worshipful, romantic, and delicate invitations to make love that I can imagine.

In his eyes she is LIKE a nymph. He is trying to express the depth of his love for her. His love for her is SO strong that, HAD she been a mystical nymph, his love WOULD be deep enough, intense enough... to provide her with a much desired soul and make her into a mortal.

Harriet

I think you have it exactly!

Ella, I'll get back to the book in my next post. I promise.

Later...

Harriet

My goodness you ladies make me feel ...I am not sure I have a word to express my feelings. That you have interpretated it so beautifully makes me speechless....It was an invitation to love...a special invitation to a woman that makes him feel special as well as the woman.

come back across the sand take my hand let me make you mortal this night .......

In essence he is offering one of the most worshipful, romantic, and delicate invitations to make love that I can imagine.

In his eyes she is LIKE a nymph. He is trying to express the depth of his love for her. His love for her is SO strong that, HAD she been a mystical nymph, his love WOULD be deep enough, intense enough... to provide her much desired soul and make her mortal.

Harriet I think I shall look on it with new eyes ...the poem was not an exercise it was written from what I felt when I read the meaning in my dictionary...someone once asked a class I was in why we wrote poetry ..I replied I cant speak for others I know for me I cannot not write...It just seems essential when I have a poem in my head to put it down ..to allow it the freedom it craves....

As much I am feeling the aura of your acceptance of my poem and your feelings about it ..And oh those are the feelings I wanted to share ...I do think we should return to our errant Edna and her story and her poems...

But I want each of you to know you have given me a wonderful gift and I appreciate it more than you know...anna

HAHAHAHA! I repeat - you would not want me in your group! What could I offer? But I sit here in admiration of your talents - all of you!

Hi everybody. Sorry to be late on today's discussion. I've been out of town for a couple of hours (in the country). I was surprised to read so many posts and again wonderful ones too.

Anna, your poem is wonderful. I'm still thinking about it. When I read it I feel a softness or tenderness "where radiant moon meets night...reflected sun caught, sends softer rays....silvery fingers caressing....your arms lift high....weaving silver strands in your hair, sprinkling moon dust there...the waters reluctant cling revealing in silver splendor.."

Ella, you are ALWAYS wanted in our group. I'm so grateful that you're here. Even though you're kidding around, I'm giving a heartfelt answer.

Welcome back, Brumie. Good to see you.

Harriet

What would we be without a good listener? Do you think we dont need you >??????Hey if no one listens or notes what we say then we are muted and empty....be glad for who you are ...a leader, a friend, a listener, an appreciator , Now lead us on oh gracious one and let us with Edna not be done..but delve a bit into her life, and note what you will and with your note our thoughts will fill and overflow ...and YOU KNOW ELLA THAT IS SO!!!

Sorry I am so tempted to say things in a rhyme ... I think the hour is late and when that happens I get silly ...so forgive me my little rhyme and thank you for being a fearless leader and a listener sublime...anna

third and fourth it!!!! Besides Ella, your questions make me think and often put a different spin on things for me, things I had not considered before or forgot about. So please keep on keeping on. We NEED you.

Luvya, Ella!

So, back to the book.

When the liberal magazine, The Masses was denied the use of the U.S. Mails to send out its subscriptions, Edna showed her first public signs of interest in causes beyond herself.

Max Eastman, the editor of The Masses and most of his staff, were put on trial because his magazine printed anti-war articles and criticized government policies. One of his staff members was Floyd Dell. Although her feelings for this first heterosexual lover in her life were cooling fast, Edna loyally appeared at his side in court every single day, and their relationship even had a brief resurgence during this difficult time. She clearly felt that the magazine's criticism of government policies should NOT imply disloyalty to the United States government itself, and she backed up her beliefs about freedom of speech with her reputation. Once the trial was successfully completed, Dell was again OUT.

Edna's poetry continues to reflect a witty, cynical view of love...more typical of a love-em-and-leave-em male, than of a young girl in her twenties. From p. 175.

I shall forget you presently, my dear,
So make the most of this, your little day,
Your little month, your little half a year,
Ere I forget, or die, or move away,
And we are done forever; by and by
I shall forget you, as I said, but now,
If you entreat me with your loveliest lie
I will protest you with my favorite vow.
I would indeed that love were longer-lived,
And vows were not so brittle as they are,
But so it is, and nature had contrived
To struggle on without a break thus far,--
Whether or not we find what we are seeking
Is idle, biologically speaking.

However, I was so-o-o interested to find a poem, not included in the book, in our poets.org website that seemed to express a very contradictory view of her usual casual attitudes toward life and love. I copy it here for all of you.

The Plaid Dress
Edna St. Vincent Millay


Strong sun, that bleach
The curtains of my room, can you not render
Colourless this dress I wear?--
This violent plaid
Of purple angers and red shames; the yellow stripe
Of thin but valid treacheries; the flashy green of kind deeds done
Through indolence high judgments given here in haste;
The recurring checker of the serious breach of taste?


No more uncoloured than unmade,
I fear, can be this garment that I may not doff;
Confession does not strip it off,
To send me homeward eased and bare;


All through the formal, unoffending evening, under the clean
Bright hair,
Lining the subtle gown. . .it is not seen,
But it is there.

Could it be that our girl had more regrets in her life than she was ready to acknowledge? What a complicated person of many parts Edna was, don't you think?

Harriet

Ah Edna was like us all. Given a chance to sin she did but deep within she would have preferred to be more chaste. Now I know we are more circumspect but she felt the world differently.

Her defiance was her way of saying I AM WHO I AM....I really think she was angry with men and in some ways punished them for having it easier. Her father's irresponsible behaviour, and I beleive when you marry and have children it is time to leave behind destructive behaviour, the men whom her mother worried about, and the world's expectation of women as to thier place. Married, with children, stay at home,and dont aspire to be equal to men.

This was a woman who put her reputation on line at what she considered injustice. She was more than just a poet or a wanton...she was human and it is easy to get hung up on her behaviour than on what she accomplishes. Her poetry, her plays, her causes, her opera....her writings ...She was a skyscraper of accomplishments. And she did it HER WAY.....

The more I delve into the who she was the more I am entranced with that person.

AH that is my opinion and I await eagerly yours...anna

All morning long I've asked myself over and over how can a woman write so much about love who has affairs with men and women. And where does her understanding of love come from? The way I view Vincent's love is not the forever kind of love, unconditional, (warts and all) and commitment. I see her affairs as a fling. There one day and gone the next (hot and cold). Would that be the meaning of the poem Thursday? "And if I loved you Wednesday, Well, what is that to you? I do not love you Thursday -- So much is true...."

One description fits my view is on pg. 172 "...She'd break your heart. There was something wild and elusive about her."

Brumie I never expected to become so involved with this woman , her poetry yes but the woman I see here...?

If you break someone's heart first then they cannot break yours. How does that go? "Do unto others before they do unto you" My daughter has a woman friend.since college who grew up in an abusive background. On the surface it was a normal household with a father who was an civil engineer and a mother who left teaching school to raise two daughters.

But as we are finding out in bits and pieces it was a dark home where the father apparantly abused the daughters and the mother hated all ...the man who preferred the daughters, the daughters for coming between her and her husband...it was such a sad tragic event ...and the girls have sought approval from the most inappropiate men...they are in their late 40's now and I am not sure they will ever heal enough to have a normal life.

They are both talented, educated and with good jobs but their personal life is such a shambles. I am not saying this was true of the Millays but certainly something was missing .....

I think I am almost ready to forget speculation and just enjoy her poetry and not care how it came to be but thankful it did.

YOU ARE ALL TOO KIND! But very sweet and I thank you for your remarks on my lack of understanding - but I do recognize that Millay is aware of her "unusual" (to say the least) behavior , her "indolent" ways in those last lines that you quoted, Harriet, she can hide it but cannot erase it:

Confession does not strip it off,
To send me homeward eased and bare;


All through the formal, unoffending evening, under the clean
Bright hair,
Lining the subtle gown. . .it is not seen,
But it is there.

This morning I did a bit of searching for different types of poetry and found the following which may be of interest, this one demonstrates the shapes of poetry:

SHAPES OF POETRY

This next one is like taking a college course on poetry alone:

ELEMENTS OF POETRY

What can I say? This is for kids - but it is very definitive and gives us examples of every type of poem, style, parts and form - more than I care to know - but some of you may enjoy attempting to define a poem:

Styles, types, forms, parts

Back later with more of the book - e.g.

I am now back from our trip, but due to some unusual circumstances will probably lurk more than post. I feel that EM loved the man she married as much as she was able and he seemed to understand her need for additioinal adoration. I admired him very much. But her sister seemed to dislike him intensely.

HELLO STEPHANIE!

Oh, we are not to her marriage yet - please note our Schedule for Discussion in the header and you can tell right where we are!!

---

Edmund Wilson, Jr. was a well-known writer of his time, and the fact that he fell in love with Edna is remarkable in itself, particularly as Edna was the first woman he had ever made love with and he couldn't believe she was not in love with him. He wrote:

she has "ignited for me both my intellectual passion and my unsatisfied desire, which went up together in a blaze of ecstasy that remains for me one the high points of my life. I do not believe that such experiences can be common, for such women are not common. My subsequent chagrin and perplexity, when I discovered that, due to her extreme promiscuity, this could not be expected to continue, were rather amazingly soothed by an equanimity on her part which was also very uncommon."

In a memoir he remembered meeting Cora and she left quite an impression with him, particularly a statement she made - "she had been a slut herself so why shouldn't her girls be"; it was a statement he never forgot for such words from the lips of anyone's mother was shocking!

Wouldn't it be today?

You might be interested in Wilson - quite a fellow! Click for more information about him:

Edmund Wilson, Jr.

Edna was in Cincinnati, Ohio (a city I know rather well) for her 28th birthday and this heartland city took her in and took her to their hearts and even gave her a party; but this date was to be an important one in her life for it was discovered that she was a superb performer!

"She had a reputation of being sexually free, and her work was assumed to be daringly autobiographical. People wanted to see this girl poet of the new bohemia. She teased and charmed the Cincinnatians with poems."

The book continues with one affair after another, one man besotted with Edna and then another, and I'm not so sure that there is any need for us to post them all - what do you that have the book think?

However, this incident pertains to Edna's life and I do want to quote it verbatim from the book:

"Edna became pregnant that winter (I believe it was in the year 1920) and, according to Norma, who did not know by whom, she suffered a 'botched abortion,' which left her bleeding and weakened."

Did this add to any guilt she may have felt about her life?

Wilson said at one point that people were unimportant to Edna Millay, what mattered was "her own emotions about them."

Let me ask you this question - COULD SHE HAVE WRITTEN POEMS WITHOUT THESE LOVE AFFAIRS?

Would it have been possible for her, as many writers have done, as Anna has done (and beautifully!),to have been as productive if she had tucked herself away in a little cabin somewhere and just concentrated on poetry or plays or stories?

--later, e.g.

Actually, I don't think that Edna could have written her poems without those love affairs. For some reason she needed the seed of each affair, and then took those feelings, however temporary they might have been, and like any writer, elaborated on them to make them grand and universal. And while it is true that some people can tuck themselves away in a cabin and write beautiful poetry, I don't think Edna was one of them. Some people are introverted (that is, they get their energy and creativity from being alone most of the time) and they are able to produce most of their work from aloneness. Some people are extroverted (they get their energy and creativity from being with people), and they do their best work when surrounded by people and exciting things happening just about all the time. I think Edna was one of the latter. However, she was a very unusual person in many ways, not the least of which was the fact that she wrote so beautifully about nature while surrounded by people--which is rare. Most artists who adore nature and wish to express their feelings about nature tend to be loners in nature. Very unusual person, our Edna.


But I also think much of what she did was sort of a circular pattern. Once she got a little bit of fame, she had to live up to her role of "girl poet" and in living up to that she had more experiences to write about. I think part of her was probably a really good actess, not only on the stage, but also in life, playing the part that everyone expected her to play. In a way it's a need for love and approval, and extroverted people tend to need that more than introverted people who are very self-sufficient interiorly. When people reward you for something, you do tend to do it repeatedly to get more and more approval, and she may have started out being wild only tentatively and as she received approval (society was pretty wild in those days) she just became more outrageous and experimental. But with the poetry posted here we also note she had her quiet moments of wondering just how stained she was. I just think once someone has the adulation it's pretty hard to stop. It must have been heady to be famous and to be written about and meet famous people, and have her be a "fad" with other girls imitating what she said and did. Extroverted people, who need other people, have a very hard time turning all that off as long as they are getting approval.

Good post Ella.

Mountaingal I agree when you said "She needed the seed of each affair, and then took those feeling.....elaborated on them to make them grand and universal." On pg 192 Wilson remembers Vincent saying to him "I know just how you feel: it was here, and it was beautiful, and now it's gone." Pg. 194 a letter was written "...I wonder, sometimes, if you do not hurt for sheer pleasure in hurting.....I think really that your desire works strangly like a man's. And that desire has few secrets from me...While her heart is still in the grave of one love affair she is making eyes at another man. It nearly kills her but she can't help it." One more pg. 199 "Wilson came to believe that other than her mother and her sisters, people were in some sense unimportant to her - EXCEPT AS SUBJECTS FOR POEMS. She was impartial, Wilson said ruefully. And to her lovers did not quarrel with one another, or even much with her. What she was interested in was HER OWN EMOTIONS ABOUT THEM."

Anna, you put together the most wonderful mix of biographical information and perceptive personal analyses of Edna. I too am entranced with the woman and her accomplishments. You bring up the forgotten man, Edna's FATHER. He was the only man who had held her love, as a girl. He was irresponsible, a charming gambler who wrote a lot of words and promises to his daughters, but carried through on none of them.

Do you remember how happy Edna was in his company when she visited him during his illness? As he got better, she thrived without the responsibilities of her sisters and her mother. She wasn't in a hurry to return home, although she received passionate, guilt-provoking letters from her mother. Once she got home though, Daddy's devotion again turned into just words and broken promises. How right you are!

WASN'T EDNA'S CALLOUSNESS JUST A WAY OF AVOIDING THE PAIN OF LOVE AND REJECTION? Wasn't that flipness a protective armor? She had to protect herself against a marital relationship which characterized her as "the little woman...just a wife.," and made her vulnerable to patronizing masculine chauvinism. She needed her FULL self for her work.

OH, OH, YOU WILL BE SORRY


Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that word!
Give me back my book and take my kiss instead.
Was it my enemy or my friend I heard,
---"What a big book for such a little head!"
Come, I will show you now my newest hat,
And you may watch me purse my mouth and prink!
Oh, I shall love you still, and all of that.
I never again shall tell you what I think.
I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly;
You will not catch me reading any more:
I shall be called a wife to pattern by;
And some day when you knock and push the door,
Some sane day, not too bright and not too stormy,
I shall be gone, and you may whistle for me.


ESVM


How's that, Brumie, for giving back in spades in a marital type fight? This is another poem that belongs in the category of man/woman relationships, similar in feel to the poem "Thursday." which you interpreted so well. You're really HOT with all of your sharp observations.

I wonder if any male ever dared to reproach Edna for reading books and say to her, "What a BIG book for such a LITTLE head?" In the poem, the woman retaliates with loving, feminine wiles until the man is hopelessly ensnared in her sweet femaleness. Then, BOOM! she teaches him what pain love can create. She leaves him and, "you may whistle for me."

Stephanie, I also admire any man who wants to marry Edna, because just LOOK at the thorn-like minefield he's walking into. Yet, It didn't stop Edmund Wilson or John Bishop from adoring her, did it? (pp. 193 - 195) Brave men, they! Weren't THEY ensnared in her silken trap? Aw, come on, Stephanie! WE MISS YOU. Tell us your opinions of Edna. We all agreed that she's a hard woman to admire in many ways.

That final phrase of the poem became part of our American culture, and I never knew where it came from before reading this book.

"Whistle for me?" Wow!.

more...

Harriet

MountainGal you're knocking me out! I've been trying to figure out if Edna was secretly a reflective, philosophical woman---or a blazing, show-off extrovert.

Of course you are right! She is both of those. What a terrific, insightful comment about her circular patterns of behavior. Edna can be the ultimate dramatic actress, skillfully using her personal magnetism, beautiful voice and stunning persona to beguile the world,... and then she would feed on her own success to increase her charm to others. She is also a little girl lost, overly vulnerable to the pain in this world and her own emotions, and profoundly needing her mother and the security of home and sisters.

Ella, isn't it interesting that Norma gives NO information about Edna's state of mind preceding her abortion? I wonder how hard (or easy) it was for her to make the decision to terminate her pregnancy? If Edna wrote any poems as she reflected upon her possible child, they sure don't come down to us.

A botched pregnancy? Maybe Edna allowed it to go on longer than was safe? Perhaps abortion was a harder decision than we might have assumed for our girl poet, and she held off her final decision for an inordinately long time?

About her pregnancy, I remember reading but can't find the page, that Edna was wearing a cardigan sweater which she could barely close over the swell of her belly. Doesn't that imply a pregnancy further advanced than the third month? Was she having a VERY hard time deciding whether or not she wanted to be a mother?

Hm-m-m. Difficult decisions?

Harriet

While stopping in the computer room (woods) on a rainy morning -

Corny - it just doesn't fit Frost's poem, and I don't have time at the moment to post, just wanted to thank you all for such grand, insightful messages! What a joy to read them all. I'll shall think about them as I go about my duties and then will be back tonight.

THANK YOU ALL!!

HEY, STEPHANIE - did you click on our music in the heading and dance the Lindy-Hop or the Charleston? It's fun to do and excellent exercise!!!! Hahaha - but we want you to JOIN US, PLEASE DO!

Intriguing observations, MOUNTAINGAL, I agree our Edna was an extrovert. Have you ever taken the Meyers-Briggs Personality Test? I found out that I was sitting on the borderline between introvert/extrovert; however, that was 20 years ago when I was around 50 and I imagine today I would lean toward the introvert side of the scale.

Without a book, you do so well in analyzing Edna - particularly when you say in order for Edna to be successful she had to live up to her role, as an actress, a "bohemian" type once she was categorized as such, and a poet. But those natural talents came easily to her I think - it wasn't difficult was it?

Or was it? She did complain of physical problems around this time (and, of course, a botched abortion would have been one source of complaints); however I wonder if living with her family could have been causing stress also. She decides at some point to live apart, but it doesn't work for very long.

Thanks, BRUMIE, for that quote which emphasizes again her need for need for relationships in order to write about them.

HARRIET - I don't remember where in the book it mentions the term of her pregnancy, but on page 197 the conversation between Norma and the author is revealing. Norma claims (pg.198) that "There were things we didn't talk about."

As close as these family members were Edna did not talk to them about her pregnancy? Is that believable or is it a fact that Norma did not want to disclose any more than she had to about the event. She's trying here to be truthful, but at the same time she regrets any remark against any family member the author may make.

In a letter to her mother, Edna wrote:

"The reason why I have not written you for so long is because I have been sick. I am all right now, but I have been quite sick, almost ever since I moved in here- bronchities for a while and another small nervous breakdown after that. I didn't want you to know, for fear you would worry -but now that I am all right again I have decided that the thing for me to do is to have a change-change of everthing-so I am going to travel. This is the thing I have always wanted to do, you know how much, dearest- and my work, more than anything else, my poetry, needs fresh grass to feed on. I am becoming sterile here; I have known it would be and I see it approaching if I stay here. Also, New York life is getting too congested for me-too many people; I get no time to work….And I need to be alone for a while."

But there is a reference to the pregnancy in her journal:

"My baby! My baby! My baby!

Sad!

Another question - Would Edna have been as interesting to the public without scandalous affairs?

On to Paris soon and the title of Chapter 15 is PARIS IS WHERE THE 20th CENTURY WAS."

Want to apologize for an error, all. The accurate reference pages for Edmund Wilson and John Bishop in love with Edna was pp 193 - 195. I've corrected it.

Sorry 'bout that.

Harriet

Vanity Fair magazine has hired Edna to be their foreign correspondent in Europe. Edna's finally going to have an opportunity to live separate from her mother and sisters and travel. While she has unexpected reactions to the separation, her pleasure in the travel is an almost child-like joy.

TRAVEL


The railroad track is miles away,
And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn't a train goes by all day,
But I hear it's whistle shrieking.


All night there isn't a train goes by
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming
But I see its cinders red on the sky
And hear its engine steaming.


My heart is warm with the friends I make
And better friends I'll not be knowing;
Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take,
No matter where it's going.


ESVM (From our Paris/Left Bank link in the heading....)

I wonder if the separation from her family was all that Edna hoped it would be?

later...

Harriet

I decided to find any information about John Peale Bishop and I found an interesting poem her wrote. See what you think.

The poem was written in the middle of l920.

"A Recollection"

Famously she descended, her red hair Unbound and bronzed by sea-reflections, caught Crinkled with sea-pearls. The fine slender taut Knees that let down her feet upon the air,

Young breasts, slim flanks and golden quarries were Odder than when the young distraught Unknown Venetian, painting her portrait, thought He'd not imagined what he painted there.

And I too commerced with that gold cloud: Lipped her delicious hands and had my ease Faring fantastically, perversely proud.

All loveliness demands our courtesies. Since she was dead I praised her as I could Silently, among the Barberini bees.

I took a day off ...baked cookies for my son in law's birthday and delivered them along with egg drop soup and sandwiches from a Chinese restaurant. What a dreary rainy day it was yesterday and today promises to be the same.

While I welcome sunshine I really do enjoy a rainy day..I know there will be no visitors dropping by and I can curl up with a book ( ours here) and sort of vegetate. If the rainy weather lasts too long I may even grow moss!

My daughter and her husband who just moved to this area in December have found a book club> They joined and are meeting people like themselves who treasure books and reading. I was telling them about OUR BOOK CLUBS on line and how I treasure them.

AND while we dont sit across from each other in our living rooms and sip tea and munch on cookies we do share our thoughts and feelings so well it seems we are in our homes enjoying the give and take of wonderful conversation. As you know my hearing loss is profound and if we were in a real living room you would soon become impatient with me ( as I am of myself) for I would have to ask too often WOULD YOU REPEAT THAT PLEASE and that would slow conversation and in time I think stop discussion totally.

So on this dreay day I want to say How Wonderful it is to share my thoughts with you lovely, intelligent and erudite ladies. It is a JOY to be with you. From my heart I say THANK YOU >>.

Now back to lolling on the sofa with a cup of peppermint tea and my book in hand.

anna

Oh Anna, those feelings are truly reciprocated. It is such a joy to talk together. You know, I had my first experience in a book discussion right here in B&L after I got my computer. Having done things in reverse, to me B&L IS the real book club format.

Later on I found a Face 2 Face book club in my neighborhood. It was nice, but so-o astonishingly brief, and kind of impersonal. In OUR format, as time passes, it's possible to treasure the uniqueness and sweetness of thought of each person, and feel a growing affection for you all, as we talk. That's what's happening with me. I mull over your thoughts with breakfast coffee, and return for more throughout the day. I do enjoy being with you all so much.

Thank you all for being my friends of the mind and heart.

Harriet

Brumie, the description in Bishop's poem does sound like he might be referring to Edna, doesn't it? Or perhaps, I get the feeling that he might be looking at a painting? Not at all sure, Brumie. I wonder...

It's certainly very, very interesting. It's a treat to get a glimpse of Bishop's poetry. It adds something over just reading about him, doesn't it? I wonder if he courted Edna with such sensual, beguiling language?

---

Here's a remaining issue from the Greenwich Village period that occurred to me. It's strange how Kathleen is mentioned so much less often than mother Cora or Norma. Earlier in the book, Nancy Milford suggested that Kathleen felt a bit "left out" in the family. She was the youngest of the sisters, and she had an opportunity to attend Vassar through Edna's influence. It must have been difficult for her to attend the college where her sister had been so sought-after, and and live in Edna's shadow.

I get the feeling that, although she was pretty and bright, Kathleen did not share Edna's powerful magnetism or sense of self. Nor, for some reason, did she seem to share the same passionate connection that existed between her two older sisters. There is no doubt that she was a loved member of the Millay family, but somehow... in a DIFFERENT way? There were only four years of age difference between Edna and Kathleen. I wonder why the connection was less intense?

more...

Harriet

In chapter 15, Edna maintains her complex family and personal relationships from Paris. It is Cora who she misses the most fiercely, even though she had been eager to tear herself loose back in America.

"This was a pattern in their correspondence now that mirrored a new pattern in real life: Millay fled, embarking on something of her own rather than staying with her mother. Then she felt guilty. Her guilt was almost always linked to having abandoned Cora, but she assuaged it only with money, not by returning."

Edna must have been about 29 during this period. Even in 1921, would it have been the norm for a daughter to feel so guilty about living her own life? Also, why would she have felt that it was HER responsibility to send Cora money from her own slim earnings? Cora, staying with her OWN sisters, was neither old nor disabled. Yet Cora did not work because "the girls didn't want me to."

Cora HAD been a powerful influence in encouraging her daughter toward poetry, and Edna was grateful, but how should this excerpt from one of Edna's letters be regarded? From p. 208, after Edna invited her mother to visit her in Europe.

"We could go to Italy and Switzerland, and to England and Scotland and...mavoureen, we would go to Ireland...and then, my Best Beloved, you and I will just have ourselves a little honeymoon."

An interesting insight into a very complex and convoluted mother-daughter relationship?

Harriet

But Edna always thought, wrote and spoke in rather romantic and poetic terms I would think honeymoon would mean after doing all those many activities they would just go someplace and do nothing...a sort of honeymoon..a time to just be lazy and not worry about anything....

As the youngest perhaps Kathleen felt a little out of the loop so to speak and as in any family there is a vast difference in interests, hobbies, vocations etc..and in Kathleen's case perhaps a desire to live her own life without being referred to as EDNA's Sister ..just thinking ..see you all later ..anna

THANKS, HARRIET for typing in that TRAVEL poem. The railroads - what a part they played in my life, and probably yours, when we were young. It was a big adventure to go somewhere on a train and I used to fall asleep to the sound of a train at night in my hometown. I still love trains and can't understand why it wouldn't be cheaper to pull freight on trains rather than all these individual trucks on the road! I know, there are economical reasons, but we have let our train system die and in Europe they are so much a part of the people's lives and some of the trains are beautiful, sleek and swift!

Which statement leads me right into BRUMIE's POEM - "RECOLLECTION" - hey, poet lovers, what do you make of that one?

Somewhere I read that Kathleen married - now I will have to go back and find where that was, but thanks, Harriet, for bringing that sister to our attention.

ARE YOU STILL LOLLING AROUND TODAY, ANNA???? AND WHERE IS MOUNTAINGAL?

Here are a few thoughts I'm having…………..but first -

An aside, do forgive me, but the title of this chapter reminds me of Art Buchwald's memoir that I read long ago and have never forgotten; it is a book, both humorous and sad, you won't be sorry to spend time in Art's world. Here are some reviews of the book:

I'll Always have Paris

This was after Edna Millay was in Paris, of course, but it brought the city to mind and I mention Art's book because I have never forgotten what a good book it was and the title of this chapter reminded me of it. An aside, do forgive - all his books are wonderful!

Edna arrived on the Left Bank in Paris (all the artists gravitated there!) and she mentions that Paris was the color of "grisalle" - definition, according to my dictionary, - "a style of monochromatic painting in shades of gray; a painting or design in this style" - I take it the city was gloomy and gray!

As Harriet pointed out, Edna feels guilty; this time over leaving her mother, but not guilty enough to return to her from Paris - she assuages her guilt by sending her mother money. Perhaps, she feels guilty because she's making money, spending money, having a gay old time while those she left behind have neither.

This family is very close as we've all said before. But the author's interpretation of one of Edna's letter to her mother struck me as an attempt to make an ordinary letter into something dramatic, disturbing (page 207) Certainly Cora did not interpret it as the author did.

How much is what we are feeling about Edna and Cora (or what I am feeling) is due to the author or the truth? I'm beginning to think I'm being swayed somewhat - any of you have that sensation? I'm going to watch myself from now on in interpretations.

ANOTHER QUESTION - since Edna's Vassar days, have we read anything that would indicate that Edna has a female friend - that she sees women - a woman - from time to time?

later - e.g.

I just turned a page in my book and read this:

When Edmund Wilson arrived in Paris, he immediately looked up Edna and found her at the Hotel de l'Intendance, "A VERY FIRST-RATE HOTEL ON THE LEFT BANK and better dressed, I suppose than she has ever been before in her life."

Could that be the reason Edna is feeling guilty? Her mother is not working and has no money of her own other than what Edna sends her and Edna is spending all her own money on herself.

I dont remember anything about EM and her attraction to women other than the college days. I also feel that in that period, both of the sexes had intense type friendships that are not common now. She seemed attracted to males and wrote complicated letters to woo many of her male admirers. I also note that someone was discussing the pregnancy. The line about the sweater was from a caption to one of the pictures. It referred to her as looking pregnant. I agree that if she was only three months, she would not have been far enough to show.. I suspect this was more of an advanced pregnancy and if the dates were correct, it was the younger englishman that her family did not like. Forgot the name.

OH, THANK YOUR FOR THAT, STEPHANIE - I'm going straight to those pictures now and concentrate on them a little better. We haven't talked about those pictures at all - will be back!

Happy you see you here, Stephanie!!!!!

LET'S ALL OF US COMMENT ON THE PICTURES!! Okay! This will be fun - what do you see?

Cora - I know that in those days they often took pictures with props of all kinds, but Cora with a guitar and a bucket, what, pray tell, does that signify? Or does it have to? And what does she have on her feet? One shoe on and one galosh on???? Hahaha

But what a handsome man she married - I would love to see him smile wouldn't you? Many women would have fallen for this guy with "them thar eyes" peering down into a girl's heart, yes, indeed, I can see why Cora fell for this fellow.

Still on the first page of the pictures - did women wear their hair so severely pulled back in those days? All of them have their hair pulled straight back it looks to me - but maybe a couple of them have rolls on top????? Didn't they use all kinds of hair gadgets to make their hair stand up, out, over, whatever?

Now, with my good friends all around, I must tell you a true story - get your cuppa tea and a cookie!

When I was married in 1950 I was working as a legal secretary and continued that for three years until I became pregnant. One day at my MIL (mother-in-law)'s house she noticed my hair was about the same color as when she was young and said - "Wait here a minute," and she bounded up the stairs and returned with a box in her hand and gave it to me. Not having any idea of what it was, I opened it and found a hair piece - quite thick the hair was and it was bound into a figure eight. IT WAS EXACTLY A MATCH WITH MY OWN HAIR! She said when she first cut her hair (it was a sign of being a mature lady when you cut your hair in those days), her mother had fixed this hair piece for her. But I can't remember at what age she might have been then.

However, I wore that hairpiece a number of times - with my hair pulled straight back and the figure eight fastened to the back of it. Could that be a similar hairpiece that the Buzzell sisters have on their heads!

Your turn!!! What do you see?

reading, and since I'm not reading the actual book there's been nothing much for me to say. Sometimes listening is the thing to do, and all your posts are very interesting to say the least. I was, however, intrigued by the world "grisaille" that Edna used. The definition your dictionary gave is true, but actually grisaille is more than that. In art, grisaille is used as an "underpainting". That means, you put in all the lights and darks in a monochrome way, and then you paint with riotous color over that. If the paint is transparent, the lights and darks of the underpaining show through and add another dimension to the color. So I'm just wondering why Edna used that particular word to describe the city, and I'm thinking it could be that she considered the sort of "monochrome" background of the city a perfect happening in which artists could add their own color. Paris during those days was the "in" city, where everything was happening and encouraged to happen and the background of the city was the perfect opportunity in which artists and writers and musicians and inellectuals could add color. The city itself encouraged it. Some cities have no "grisaille" in that sense because they don't encourage intellectual discourse the way Paris did even though there may be small pockets in certain areas.
Well, just ruminating, because it's such an unusual word that I can't help but wonder why she used it in that particular way.

I don't know why she used that word to describe Paris - it was rainy when she first arrived. I had never heard of that word before - had to look it up.

Just had a cup of tea and two chocalate covered graham cookies! Sinful - delicious, and gave a thought to that "hairpiece" - unconsciously I must have been thinking HAIR, HAIR!! And those who have the book know why. Cora and her mother made their living by weaving hairpieces - they made frizzes, bangs, coils, puffs and switches, with which women transformed themselves (pg.13) They would gather hair combings, wash the hair using a hand-operated hackle and a header and then weave the fine strands of hair using an instrument that looked like a harp.

Of course, that leads right into the poem - and this one I can understand so very well -"THE BALLAD OF THE HARP-WEAVER."

I don't have time now to describe it or type it in - what a long one, but maybe it's in the heading? gotta go, gotta go!

Ella, me too! I understand The Ballad of The Harp-Weaver

Those chocolate covered graham cookies sound great. Have you ever spread peanut butter on graham crackers? Oooooooo good!!!!

I am not sure but the photo of Cora looks to me like some from old family albums ...perhaps taken by an itenerant photographer..They posed people in all sort of things. I have some where my relatives were just standing or sitting on a porch..these were on heavy , heavy cardboard and black and white ...well rather shades of gray ..

And yes Edna's father was a handsome man..lol I would have loved to tweak that mustache.

By the way when I used a magnifying glass on Cora's shoes I think what we are seeing..are high buttoned shoes and the one in the forefront hasnt been hooked all the way the top area has turned down ...perhaps the other one is the same but in the background...another reason I think it was a wandering photographer...perhaps she had to put her shoes on and didnt hook them all the way...the scene behind her looks like a backdrop to me...and I think the picture of Edna and her sister Norma were taken at some sort of studion...the back ground is too plain to have taken at home..I know I have pictures taken of myself and my brothers that look the same and they were taken at some sort of studio..or even I suspect at a dime store or some store.

The hair dos are the way a lot of women who never cut thier hair held it in place. My mother never cut her hair short and she lived to be 86 and always wore it pulled back, twisted and then made into a sort of bun in the back and held with hairpins...When she had a perm it would look a bit fuller and I know my mother in law had the hair pieces her mother wore..there were spit curls and bangs and braided pieces and lovely curls to pin in the back and also something called a rat ..long hair curled around and placed in a sort of sleeve of stocking type material nearly the same shade as her hair. This was placed so the hair could be laid on top before it was pulled back...interesting..it was all made from her own hair. And the exact same shade as my youngest daughter who had fun trying them out.

I am sorry my scanner isnt working or I would try sending a picture to you Mountain Girl......

anna

I found myself referring back to the photos again and again while I was initially reading the book. It did help to orient me to the many names of people that flow through the book. Those figures that became a significant part of Edna's personal life were more likely to appear in the photo section, and I found it very helpful to see them in photographs.

Re Kathleen, she is NOT in Edna's wedding photos, but neither is Cora! As a matter of fact, Kathleen appears only once in the candids, and her face is partially obscured as she and Norma hug. Since Norma is the informational source for this biography, I suppose it's natural to find HER letters from Edna in this book, filled with family baby talk.

Yet, there doesn't seem to be any equivalent sort of letters between Kathleen and Edna, although maybe Kathleen didn't have the foresight to keep all her communications from Edna. Anyway, I see what you're saying, Anna. Personality differences might have kept Kathleen more her own person. Still...there are hints in the book...I'll have to go back and look up the pages...that make me wonder about that particular relationship.

Stephanie and Ella brought up the question of Edna's gay relationships after Vassar. On page 220 during her stay in Paris, Margot Schuyler writes how she met and fell in love with Edna, her Candy Box Girl, (because she reminded Margot of the pretty, lacey-bloused girl pictured on elegant boxes of American chocolates). Later, that SAME day, they went to bed together. Fifty years later, Margot still wrote yearningly of their brief relationship and friendship. Edna was not as irrevocably impressed. She left a poem, which Milford conjectured was possibly about Margot, that began, p. 231:

You are most like some pale, impersonal
Small flower, that has no color for the bee,
Only a potent fragrance......


Not so complimentary!

I think Edna lived the height of her excesses in Paris, expending her energy and health. But she also produced some remarkable work, including The Ballad of the Harp Weaver. Here is a link to the poem. Please be sure to scroll down the screen as there are several poems preceding Harp Weaver.

BALLAD OF THE HARP WEAVER

See you all later. I'm seeing a man about my taxes.

Harriet

THE BALLAD OF THE HARP-WEAVER! The book states that the single phrase "a harp with a woman's head" which is repeated four times in the ballad is the key to the poem. - " A ballad works by repeating certain phrases, charging them with such increased feeling that an almost unbearable tension is created."

And the mother is dead at the end!

What do all of you think of this poem? It appears to be the history of her childhood and the poverty endured, and the love for her mother. Later, as we shall see, based upon this poem (THE BALLAD) - the poem "A Few Figs from Thistles" - and 8 sonnets published in American Poetry, 1922, Edna Millay became the first woman to win the Pulitizer Prize for Poetry.

A FEW FIGS FROM THISTLES

Thou art not lovelier than Lilacs, ~ ~ no, 
                               Nor honeysuckle; thou art not more fair 
                             Than small white single Poppies, ~ ~ I can bear 
                             Thy beauty; though I bend before thee, though 
                              From left to right, not knowing where to go, 
                              I turn my troubled eyes, nor here nor there 
                                Find any refuge from thee, yet I swear 
                             So has it been with mist, ~ ~ with moonlight so. 

                               Like him who day by day unto his draught 
                              Of delicate poison adds him one drop more 
                             Till he may drink unharmed the death of ten, 
                              Even so, inured to beauty, who have quaffed 
                             Each hour more deeply than the hour before, 
                          I drink ~ ~ and live ~ ~ what has destroyed some men. 





                                 Oh, think not I am faithful to a vow!  
                              Faithless am I am save to love's self alone.  
                              Were you not lovely I would leave you now;  
                                 After the feet of beauty fly my own.  
                              Were you not still my hunger's rarest food,  
                                 And water ever to my wildest thirst,  
                            I would desert you ~ ~ think not but I would! ~ ~  
                                And seek another as I sought you first.  
                                But you are mobile as the veering air,  
                           And all your charms more changeful than the tide, 
                                Wherefore to be inconstant is no care:  
                                 I have but to continue at your side.  
                             So wanton, light and false, my love, are you,  
                               I am most faithless when I most am true.

Will return later for your comments on those two poems!

BRUMIE - ANNA - STEPHANIE - MOUNTAINGAL!!! Need your comments! Am getting all my hair cut off today - it's terribly shaggy, can't do a thing with it.

I took my book with me to the dentist so I could re read the passage with that description...Millay had arrived in Paris and taken a room in a shabby hotel..which I am sure was in the backwater of the city. Now this is an old city ( I visited it a number of times since we were only 60 miles away ) We stayed in hotels off the beaten track because frankly the hotels that were near the Champs were too costly for us..and there was nothing wrong with the hotel where we stayed ..but it was located in a sort of rabbit warren area and all the buildings were grey. Perhaps when new they were other colors but they had absorbed the coloring of the years...AND if it were raining then all of Paris would seem gray....in fact I have some paintings of PAris bought from sidewalk artists that show Paris in the rain and it would seem everything faded and blended in to shade of gray with just a bit of street lights or signs, perhaps a person's attire to make it gay.

I have to confess Edna's baby talk to her mother offends me..this was an educated woman and her mother was no less ..and when I read the words that are supposed to denote tenderness I just cringe...I do wonder if Cora spoke to her daughters in that fashion when growing up and everyone kept the same type of speech in order to make themselves feel different..You know how children write in lemon juice or milk and have it disappear to be revealed with heat and read by the one to whom it was addressed..

My eyes are weary ..so I think I shall indulge myself and take a nap ..anna

On the letters, I have read other collections of letters from that period and it was not uncommon to use baby talk to indicate closeness. A great many expressions from then are cloying to us. I also think that Edna used them as a defense. I do not find her letters to be particularly truthful about her life and did wonder about that. Possibly best to keep the family happy with that sort of slyness. I do love the Sunday School picture. They all look so serious with their white dresses. I also love Ednas senior picture. Catch the matching bows.

AH, ANNA, you've been to PARIS!!! I spent 2 weeks in Rome and a few days in Venice a few years ago, but I long to go to Paris!!

Wasn't Gene Kelley in Paris when he did that umbrella dance in the Rain and sang SINGING IN THE RAIN, JUST SINGING IN THE RAIN. I loved that guy, better than Fred Astaire I thought!

As I expressed earlier, I hate that baby talk, but as STEPHANIE said perhaps it was a defense against telling the whole truth - we don't know and I agree that she was far from truthful in her letters.

As Edna (accompanied by another besotted lover that she had met in Paris) traveled to Albania at the suggestion of the American Ambassador, I thought it would be fun -educational? - to look up the country and see what I could find. Well……take a look:

ALBANIA on the Web

In the book the description of the country sounds exactly like the description of Afghanistan today - "The rugged isolation of tiny Albania, with its rival clans and religions,…….remained backward, fiercely independent and desperately poor.?

AND IN ENGLISH! ALBANIA HAS ENTERED THE 21st century, don't you agree?

But then I searched for Afghanistan and look what I found - "The Friendliest Country in the World, possibly the Universe"

AFGHANISTAN on the Web

I digress - but I would never had done that if it hadn't been for this discussion! Very interesting!

---

All these people that Edna knew - I cannot pass them up while reading the book because I have heard of them - Dorothy Thompson was very famous in her day!! Here's a brief history of her I found on the Internet:

Dorothy Thompson"

As to Edna's lesbian relationship (there is no mistaking it at all) with Margot Schuyler - and all that business - it's for someone else other than myself to comment on - I have nothing to say about it!

Just a question about Edna's second pregnancy while in Paris and her mother, Cora, finding an herb by the name of Alkanet, managing to abort Edna's child. Do you believe that? If that is true, what need do we have of abortion clinics with all the protests against them, why not just market Alkanet and sell it over the counter? You have to find it when it is in bloom apparently -

Anybody ever heard of such an herb? Or what it is used for?

And do any of understand this sentence - "none of them (the Millay sisters) would become mothers. To do so was to risk this deadly devotion." Cora did not want her daughters to have children? Is that what you understand? But why?

Tomorrow we start on PARTS FIVE to SEVEN (halfway through the book) and it's gonna be fun to see where this takes us!

I have'nt a clue as to whether there is such a thing. I know when one of my girlfriends YEARS ago became pregnant ( she was married but her mother thought she was too fragile to have a child, although after her mother died she had two) her mother had her strain while sitting over a bucket of kerosene.. now whether she was really pregnant or not I have no idea...the whole idea was so abhorrant to me I never really wanted to know more.

I myself had such a terrible time getting pregnant I cant imagine wanting to abort. I am sure there have always been things that women used to abort an unwanted pregnancy but how effective they were I have no idea.

That a mother would deny her daughters the right to have a baby is also upsetting to me.. So if Edna was strange then her mother was even stranger...and who knows what Edna would have decided if her mother had not interferred ...just thinking ...anna

I thought it was bizarre that Cora helped her daughter abort her grandchild. Did she really not want her daughters to have children? I surely don't know, but here are some thoughts.

Edna was Cora's proudest accomplishment. She was even a bit in awe of her. Cora once wrote:

A POET TO A POEM:--


I am a poet, I have had my day
For I have written one immortal line;
Nor Greek nor Latin ever wrote more fine--
The Poem: Edna St. Vincent Millay.
With love to the Poem,
from
The Author.


Cora Millay


Could Cora have believed that her OWN poetic potential was unfulfilled because she had regulated herself to the needs of her daughters? If so, might she have been concerned that Edna's drive and creative spirit would become diluted if she had a child of her own to love? COULD Edna even be capable of parental love?

It seems twisted that it was Cora who helped Edna to abort. Surely there was, as in all ages, an underground network for such things, so that Cora could remain uninvolved? If the abortion were strictly her own decision, Edna must have known others who had solved similar problems?

But what about Cora's OTHER daughters? They didn't have the same creative stakes in remaining unencumbered, and just possibly, any child of Norma or Kathleen might have hit a "jackpot" in the creative gene pool that ran through the Millays.

Were Cora and daughters a closed corporation? They admitted subordinates to their group...the husbands...but never a FULL partner...a baby... entitled to all the family love available. Is this what deadly devotion implies?

Harriet

HARRIET! Such a good post and full of things to chew on today. Thank you so much.

And, ANNA, you and I are alike as I had troubles having children also - took me a long time to get pregnant and several doctors until I found the right one. And what is this - sitting over a bucket of kerosene? hahaha Strange things one hears!

WHERE IS BRUMIE, MOUNTAINGAL AND STEPHANIE TODAY?

Surely, you guys have something to say about those poems - The Ballad and the Fig one - CERTAINLY YOU DO!!!

Am taking my sister out to lunch for her birthday and have guests for dinner and overnight, so am off today! See youse all tomorrow!

I did hope to talk a bit about BALLAD OF THE HARP WEAVER and deadly devotion. (After you click on the link, don't forget to scroll down to find the poem.) Milford wrote of this work:

"Matricide, cloaked in sentiment. It's no accident that Millay wrote the poem in Europe, in her mother's absence, for only in that situation could she transform the grip of Duty! Duty! Love! Love! into a work of the highest achievement of her career so far."

Then Milford continues, with the phrases Ella quoted for us in her previous posts.

"Just as none of the Millay daughters would weave hair, none of them would become mothers. To do so was to risk this deadly devotion."

Do any of you agree that there were elements of matricide implied in Harp Weaver? Is the devotion ultimately "deadly" because Millay needs her mother dead? Myself, I thought it was about love, and echoes of the poverty and hardship the Millays had all shared while Cora worked continuously.

But my dear friends, especially those of you with poetic or artistic backgrounds, I'm baffled about why this is considered a GREAT work? It seems very personal and autobiographical to me...but GREAT? It's emotionally moving...I did feel tender emotions as I read it...but if there's some UNIVERSAL concept here, I'm missing it. I felt it was a personally rendered, sentimental allegory about mother-love. I thought it was touching, and certainly high quality...but was it really of the very highest quality?

Please understand, I'm ASKING about the validity of my opinion, rather than stating it. I just feel that there's something I'm missing, and if anyone sees it...please help me out. I want to get the full impact of this Pulitzer Prize winning work, if I'm capable of it.

I felt much more positive about the poem Ella reproduced in her post #189. I see a unique and witty response to beauty in those lines

Have a WONDERFUL day today, and ENJOY, Ella. You will be missed. . Anyway, if any of you have any opinions to share about the poems, I'm eager to hear them.

Harriet

I have read this poem now at least a dozen times and it does affect me but I cant tell how..When I read it I seem to hear in my mind a folk singer singing and a fiddle playing mournfully...first rather soft and by the end fast with the all the rapidity of the weaver and the final draw of the bow is a long mournful sigh. Does that make it great? I have no idea..There are many of her poems I like better, think they are better but still the Harp Weaver is haunting and perhaps that alone makes it great..what do the rest of you think???

I have reread and reread for I find I often overlook things others see. It was a deadly devotion..helping your daughter to have an abortion and really actually doing it is deadly...Perhaps Cora felt an illegitimate child would harm Edna's image of the carefree, wanton 20's girl. And while she had lovers none were really serious enough to end in marriage..Yes they continued to pursue her but with a child that would have changed. And if Edna had a child then Cora would have been replaced.

This was not a normal happy family where you want your children to not only achieve but to have a happy life. Edna's life was exciting ..was interesting and career wise very satisfying but I suspect because of some of her poems ultimately sad .

A sunny bright day here and I see my red oaks have minature leaves, no more than the size of a nickle or a quarter..Funny how they will be green when fully developed and now they are rust and gold ..flowers waiting to unfurl.. anna

the Harp Weaver, but it isn't very nice or very polite. First of all I have read this poem before and it literally made me sick to my stomach. It's one of those overly sentimental things about motherhood and apple pie and all that in a society that thought motherhood was the most sacred thing an ordinary human being could aspire to, and mothers were just automatically "good" and incapable of any wrong. But what this poem shows is just how "off" the relationship can be between a mother and her child, and I think that is the universal message in this. Reason I think this, is because I had a mother just like that before she got Alzheimer's, and let me tell you, I like her just fine now that she doesn't know most of the time who I am anymore, but all my life it was a love/hate relationship with her that was intense. My brother had the same feelings so I wasn't alone, and my brother is still not over the damage of that relationship. Whenever he has ANY contact with her, he gets physically ill. Mothers are NOT always good. Mothers are often what is called "narcissistic personalities". That means outwardly they do their duty as mothers. In fact, they see themselves as exceptionally GOOD mothers, but it's just a role they play for their own satisfaction. Inwardly they don't feel that way at all. Inwardly their children are merely extensions of themselves, beings to pursue their ambitions vicariously, beings like an arm or a leg that had better not think differently from themselves or it is labeled as betrayal with all the guilt piled on by the ton. Often the phenomenon comes to the forefront in times of stress, such as poverty or in my case, my mother having to deal with two babies during the horror of WWII. Even after the war was long over, whenever we did anything she disapproved of, thought differently from her, did something we wanted, had talents that we wanted to use and develop, she would use that "After all I've done for you" bit on us and then go on with ,"I dragged you through WWII. I did everything for you. You owe me." And it feels like your very soul is sucked right out of you. I have seen a family where the mother is so good at this that the daughter ended up in a mental institution because her whole personality just dissolved under the mother's constant onslaught. My brother was very close to that in our family. I happen to be exceptionally strong, but even I suffered under it all. And so she had control, over our lives, over our thoughts, over our frinds, over who we married, even over our own children--over our souls--because of the masterful manipulation of guilt and the way she could wield it.
Now in this poem you know right away something is "off" by these lines "Me with my long legs, Dragging on the floor". It means his mother was still babying him, treating him like he needed her more than he did, not ALLOWING him to become a man or a person. She kept on sacrificing and sacrificing and sucking him deeper and deeper into guilt. Add to that the society's feelings about the sacredness of motherhood, and you have a really "sick" picture. It means the child wants to grow, wants to be come a full human being, but the society sort of takes his/her mother's part and adds to his guilt and it becomes this cycle of guilt and love and hate and realizing what momma did for you one minute, but wishing she were dead so you could finally be free the next. You can't just come out and say "I hate my mother." The ancient Greeks had several stories in mythology about mothers like that. They don't do these things FOR their children, to help them be strong and independent. They do these things to keep their children forever chained as part of their narcissistic selves. I suspect just from what I've read here (since I haven't read the book itself) that is what Edna was feeling and this poem expresses those feelings to every child who has ever been mothered like that. It's stifling. I can recall I was alwasy polite to my mother outwardly and said and did all the "right" things because "you just can't NOT be nice to your mother who did all this for you", but inwardly I seethed. When she hugged me I litterally felt as though my throat was tightening and I would die from lack of air. Also want to say that is no longer so. My mother has Alzheimer's now. She cannot manipulate anymore, and for the first time in my life I actually LOVE her. She's become human to me at last, and God gave us another chance. But if she had never had this disease, I'm sure on the day she died I would have simply heaves a sigh of relief because I would have felt as though my soul was finally released into my own keeping. Yes, it is that bad. And there are blessings even in Alzheimer's.

Anyhow, I think the poem won the prize not because it was particularly good. It's sentimental tripe on the surface, but underneath are all those universal feelings of children in that particular position with a mother like that, and the dilemma never goes away. You love her, you hate her. You want the best for her, you wish she would die. You want to feel free, but are bound by her chains of guilt. You just want a normal "human" relationship with your mom, but every time you try it she makes the guilt overwhelming. So in a way it's like one of those Greek mythologies that discussed mothers like this. There is a really good portrait of such a mother also in a book called "The Great Divorce" by C.S. Lewis. He recognized they types of mothers who could be endlessly destructive, even going so far as to DEMAND her child back from heaven after he had died because he "belonged to HER" and not to God.

Strong feelings this poem brings out every time I read it, and it still makes me nauseated when I do, so usually it's one I avoid. But Edna sure got it right on the mark.

the narcissistic personality and its destructiveness, in trying to understand what was going on. And these days I have much empathy for my mother. Usually that kind of personality is developed from very, very deep hurts that are so profound that the personality feels safe ONLY when it is controlling everything, including the thoughts of other people. So now that I'm no longer the target of her need to control, I can at last have empathy for all the hurts she must have sustained to become that way. I see her as a "human being" for the first time, and it's such a relief. We finally have the necessary boundaries, where she is a separate human being with all it's problems, and I am a separate human being with all my problems. There is no longer that destructive enmeshment. Sounds to me like that's what Edna had---destructive enmeshment. It's almost impossible to disentangle yourself from the web unless you leave permanently and never look back, but then you also carry the guilt of that.

another into my head, and so I also want to say that all of a sudden, in thinking about it, I'm not surprised that Edna "didn't know how to love". Children of narcissistic mothers equate love and need from the other person as stifling. She probably never learned the proper boundaries of the "give and take" of normal love because of her mother's role model. I know I feel that way too. I am one of the few women I know who absolutely ABHORS being needed by anyone, because as soon as that happens I get claustrophobia. It's a physical reaction. Now most of us can go through life doing our duty where it isn't noticeable at all, but the feelings are still there. I did the very best I could not to let my children sense that negative dark thing inside of me, but sometimes I'm not sure I succeeded. Because I went through all the rationalizations of "it isn't their fault that your mother has no boundaries", but yes, I went through that too of not wanting children, not wanting to inflict the same sort of thing on them, and maybe not being able to tell where my motherhood boundaries should begin and end. But as my children got older I explained that to them, and one of them understood it very well; the other still does not understand it. In fact, I often went in the opposite direction deliberately, not interfering where perhaps I should have, because I didn't want to interfere in their lives, and so was seen as "distant". But I was so unsure of boundaries because of my own peculiar relationship with my mother. Also, I can suddenly see why Edna was kind of wild, besides the fact that she was a girl poet and had a role to live up to. With a mother like that, because you don't know where your boundaries are exactly, you keep testing them. You do more and more outrageous things just to see if you are really THERE and are really a SEPARATE person from her. It's actually agonizing. I was lucky in that I had a sensible father to balance some of that in me. He was often gruff, very opinionated, very rigid, but at leas with him I knew where the boundaries were, where he began and ended, and where I began and ended. With my mother I never did learn that until recently. My heart bleeds for Edna now. I just want to hold out my arms and hug her because I know so well what I think she went through. And other people don't see it because you function, your outer life looks normal, and inside you are dying, but unless you get some insight, you aren't even sure why.

IF you wish you could hug Edna I wish I could hug you....the longer I live the more I am grateful for a full and loving home life. I have said before if you have a good home life you feel everyone has the same...As I have come to know people in later life, in person and through this medium I have come to see how blessed I have been and it hurts me to know that others had less than I ...

Your sharing gives me an insight into Edna I havent had before. It has been hard to explain why I was drawn to her and why I felt she was in pain because so much she did wasnt very honorable or even nice. As I have said she did so much ...she was so creative and talented and I could forgive her lifestyle etc because she left so much worthwhile works behind.

Your explanation of The HArp Weaver perhaps explains my feeling something was missing or perhaps I was missing something there. It was why I re read it so many times seeking to discover what it was about the poem that puzzled me. I will now re read it again with your feelings and insight to guide me.

Thank you again for being part of the my discovery ...anna

Before me I have a little book about Edna I'd like to quote from. When I read Ballad of the Harp-Weaver I see it as a sad poem - again.

"In no poem is there a better example of Edna Millay's gift for blending the archaic with the colloquial than in Ballad of Harp-Weaver. The literary form is borrowed from the past and its sentiment, which plays with unapologetic tenderness on the theme of maternal love...........In Millay's poem a kind of utilitarian fantasy such as only she could have imagined suggests to a poverty-stricken woman that she can weave from the strings of her harp 'the clothes of a king's son..........To a senstive and loyal daughter it must have seemed to be almost literally a fact that Cora Millay wove out of music a warm security for her children. What is of chief interest, however, is that in this instance Edna herself wove out a combination of literary tradition, family tradition, sentiment, and memory an experience as simple and universal as any to be found in the extensive literature of balladry."

Your thoughts about The Ballad of the Harp-Weaver is far richer and deeper than my thoughts. I just skim over it. Like I said on my previous poem I see this as a sad poem. I see a poor family and a mother providing for her son. But Mountaingal has brought up so much to think about. One is "But there was I, a great boy, And what would folks say To hear my mother singing me To sleep all day, In such a draft way?" Another one "She sang as she worked, And the harp-strings spoke; Her voice never faltered, And the thread never broke..."

Now I discovered some tenderness "A smile about her lips, And a light about her head, And her hands in the harp-strings Frozen dead. And piled up beside her And toppling to the skies, Were the clothes of a king's son Just my size." This is tender to me because my father had a business that provided us with a house, clothes, food, and love. Mother was always home when we came home after school. She provided a secure home----and she sewed all of my clothes. She did it because she loved me and I was so proud of every dress she made me.

Well, I must go and will be back. Going to a fish fry.

Mountaingal, my heart goes out to you. Wish I could say more.

poem again, and I confess that I have no idea what the harp might stand for or what the clothes might be because obviously they were too poor for the golden threads that are talked about to be "real". But even the fact that he's a grown boy still sitting on his mother's lap is "sick" and the fact that he says his mother is not a day older than nineteen sitting there tells me his and her boundaries are all twisted up in very unhealthy ways. So I'm not at all sure if I put too much of myself into that poem, or if I'm on target with it's meaning and the clothes left at the end are just an invisible pile of guilt that mother has left even after she's dead so that he feels he "ought" to appreciate them as a treasure.
Parents who yammer the way she does in the poem also verbalize their despair to their children, and children always feel a subconscious role reversal---that somehow they should be able to take all the fears away and make everything right, that they need to rewrite their parents past, and thus it becomes a role reversal. Of course it's impossible to unroll someone's life and reverse all the despair, but a child doesn't know that and the burden is immense.
So I guess all I can say is I know what this poem means to me. I despise the kind of sentimental feelings it evokes and am still nauseated. But I am puzzled by the harp and the pile of clothes "fit for a king's son". The useless harp could be his mother's dreams and her wasted youth, but that still leaves that dreadful pile of clothes which I just shudder at. but I definitely feel there is MUCH more to this poem than the sentiment expressed by the critic that Brumie quoted above. This is NOT a benign poem even though on the surface it sounds benign.

Hi! I'm back from fish fry - good! I'll have to walk about l00 miles tomorrow!!!!

Mountaingal said it all for me in her post #20l "I'm not surprised that Edna didn't know how to love.......She probably never learned the proper boundaries of the give and take of normal love between mother's role mode." I was trying to say that in my post #166. Then I ask myself did Cora have the right kind of love or did she know how to love----know the boundaries? Then I find myself going back to Harp-Weaver "long legs dragging on the floor" and "...a great boy, singing me to sleep all day..."

I'm back again! I found my answer too!

Pg. 212 Wilson didn't much like the poem Harp-Weaver because he thought "verged on the sentimental." Edna strongly defended it. Wilson hadn't "felt how profoundly moving the poem was. Then it seized him: 'the loneliness, the poverty, the undervalued Irish heritage....It was a record of the closet relationship that Edna, up to then, ....had ever known."

all day" indicate the retardation of growth and maturity, a codependence fostered under the guise of "love", imprisonment so he couldn't play in a carefree way with the other boys. Why, she wouldn't even leave him in peace while he slept-- staring down at him in his dreams. Of course a child would interpret it as "love", but it would also leave a vague feeling of guilt that he was a terrible burden and ought to be able to fix things to ease her life, and so love and guilt and dread get all mixed in together. It's a wilderness for the psyche that I think no one ever really finds their way out of, especially if the other parent doesn't offset it somehow.

I also send you hugs, MountainGal. More than that, I send you my admiration because, under duress, you sustained your personality and individuality through your growing up process, and you maintained the sensitivity to be aware of your brother's problems. How remarkable that you even found an opportunity, in your mother's illness, to reestablish your relationship with her in a different way. It must have been a very meaningful thing to you to raise your children so that their identities had a chance to flourish.

You blew me away with your analysis of the poem, noticing points that passed me by. The "long legs" of the boy in the poem struck me as peculiar, but I missed its significance entirely. Cora DID live through her daughters, and certainly WAS a narcissistic woman. And your take on the poem was like a trip through the human soul. I'd like to send YOU a Golden Award for Survival, MountainGal!

Brumie, my mother loved to sew also. She came to America from a small Jewish town in tsarist Russia as a girl of fifteen, leaving her parents and younger siblings behind. It was before the first world war, and the Cossacks had been making raids on the town. One by one, her brothers and sisters, in sequence of age, had emigrated to America, each working to contribute toward the passage of the next younger one. Her parents, my grandparents were to be the last to go.

My mother told me that, on the night before she was to leave home, she cried, laying in some hay behind the house. Her mother, my grandmother, who I never knew, came and comforted her, telling her that if she wanted to remain at home, she could, but, even though my grandmother dreaded the loss of her, she felt my mother would be safer going to America.

My mother boarded her boat. She never saw her mother again. My grandmother died before she could come to America. My mother worked as a seamstress and helped to bring her other siblings to America. Later, she loved to sew special things for my sister and brother and myself. How complicated the ways of parents and children can be, and how different in each family.

MountainGal, in the book, Milford explains that Cora was skillful at weaving hairpieces as a source of income. Often in an evening, the three little sisters watched their mother a-weaving, weaving, weaving, moving the hair on a special loom, which may have reminded Edna of a harp. Perhaps it symbolized poverty and their mother's sacrifices. Perhaps it made Edna guilty and grateful and angry all at the same time. Edna WAS royalty to her mother as her talents became apparent. Maybe it was a tangle of just the kind of enmeshment you described.

Harriet

First I have to ask you all. Does the Pulitzer take into account ALL past works? Or only consider works published in the current calendar year? IF the latter is true, try this far-fetched conjecture just for fun.

Sometimes, in Hollywood, a star wins an Oscar, not because her current movie role is the best acting job she's ever done...but because she got passed over unjustly in a prior year. In such cases, I've read that the Academy sometimes tries to correct the situation, and some actors or actresses ultimately get their Academy Award for something that may be a "little less" than their very, very best performance in an alternate year.

In 1923, when Edna got the Pulitzer, she was the toast of the western world. She was probably the most quoted author of the era. I think the era, the poet, and the right moment had arrived for recognition of a woman in the top literary echelons, and Edna was the logical and deserving candidate.

She deserved the prize for God's World alone, I would think, but maybe the year she wrote God's World was not a year when a woman poet would have been seriously considered. Perhaps, one of her major contributions to the literary scene was in alerting the world to her serious talent, both as a poet and a woman?

She got the Pulitzer for Harp Weaver in 1923, but, in my opinion, she deserved the Pulitzer for God's World, an earlier poem. I feel that it's so much the better, and more universal work.

Any opinions?

Harriet

the much better poem, but obviously I come at these poems with my own coloring. But I do think that Edna received the prize for the whole body of her work instead of just those published that particular year. I think the way you put the pieces together is probably exactly how it happened. Also, your take on the weaving was something that had escaped me, but seems very obvious now that you've pointed it out.

wonderful family history too Harriet. Immigrants in those days knew that they would probably never see their families again once they left home, andit was to your grandmother's credit that she "let her daughter go" even though it must have been incredibly painful for her. But that is exactly what parent have to do.

Anyhow, it wasn't my intention to color this poem for anyone else; it's just that I did have incredibly strong feelings about it to the point of having a physical reaction. And if Edna defended the poem, it makes me wonder if she herself even realized what was going on the family. For all I know it may all have been undercurrents and nothing that was ever openly acknowledged. That's also something that is very common in families, not acknowledging things and keeping the surface calm. But I can certainly see how a narcissistic Cora could have talked her daughter into having an abortion and then helped her do it, for "her own good of course".

Anna, I can't retire for the evening without commenting on the beauty of the folk singing accompaniment that you "hear" as you read the poetry. Your imagination is poetic in an auditory as well as visual style. It's a new thing that I will want to try whenever I read poetry in the future.

Also, you bring up some marvelous points about Edna and Cora that hadn't occurred to me. If Edna had a baby, would the child have supplanted Cora in her emotions? If Edna became capable of loving a child, I believe the baby would have done just that. Of course, the only example of mother love that any of the Millay sisters had was...Cora.

Edna would have had to be pretty self-aware to break the maternal pattern she had been raised with, wouldn't she?

I feel like I've been through an emotional journey with all of you tonight. I wish you all a pleasant and restful evening filled with the things that delight and soothe you.

Harriet

I'm ba-ack!

I found a joke SO appropriate to our discussion that I just had to share it with you all. Here goes.

---

THREE OLD MOTHERS

Three Jewish women in Miami (where else?) are bragging about their devoted sons.

Mrs. Cohen says, "Mine is so devoted he bought me a cruise around the world. First-class."

Mrs. Lapidus counters. "Mine is more devoted. On my birthday, he flew in 300 people from Brooklyn--and catered!"

Mrs. Fine sniffs, "You want to hear devoted? Three times a week my son goes to a psychiatrist. One hundred and twenty dollars an hour he pays him. And what does he talk about the whole time? Me!"

---

I love it, ladies! Have a wonderful evening.

Harriet

Neat joke Harriet! And oh by the way, appreciate your post about your Mother. Mountaingal I look forward to reading your post.

See you all tomorrow - going to read.

Brumie

When I read the posts here I feel so close to all of you...for your insight and your sharing. I just want to hug each of you for enriching my life.

Since I have loved "God's World" since I was 17 I am delighted you think it was the real reason she won the Pulitzer. When I think of the ballads I have heard, especially from my youth, they were all sad in the end and when I look back they affected me not only for the words but the plaintive melodies. Sometimes in my life I have felt a need to cry. Now dont ask why, perhaps my hormone level was low or high..whichever would make me feel sad.When that happened I would sing one of those old ballads or read a poem that would make me cry and then I would feel better. I am almost embarassed to admit my life has been so good that I needed to think sad thoughts to weep.

In later years it has been easier to weep as the world I knew as a child has been chipped away by world events and by the cruelty and hatred that seems to be the norm. This evening on the news some veterans who had served in the Korean War were finally recognized and as I watched these old men in wheel chairs and in fragile health I wept. Nearly fifty years after the fact they are finally getting the recognition they have long deserved.

I know after 9/11 I could not write any poetry. My poetry as a rule is about nature and its beauty and some of it is even funny. I just felt so saddened by that event I could not write about anything that was positive ..It has taken me some time to leave that behind and to go on.

It is strange as some of my relatives were very poor. My uncles sharecroppers in the South and my cousins barefoot who helped by chopping cotton as children . But you know they were the most positive people and the brothers and sisters that could help did so ..Each of my cousins graduated from High School and went on to a measure of success since they were hard workers. The families were close and always a sense of positiveness ..I wonder now was it something in their nature that made them so? This was true both of my mother and father's families.

My father's family was better off as my Irish grandmother was such a fiesty person ( which I inherited) and even with 13 children she was able to use money from my grandfathers's salary as a blue collar railroad worker to buy small rental properties and eventually put her family in a wonderful Victorian mansion.

My mother was a wonderful seamtress and made all of my clothes and I still make my own. My children wore clothes I made as well and now I am sewing for my grandchildren. I am not sure why I am sharing so much but it seems we have reached a point in our relationships here where we have drawn close and there is a need to share some of our past.

I have been awake since 4:30Am having retired early ...and the alarm is set for 8 ..my neighbor is out of town since her mother passed away last Mon and I have to feed her dog and let her out before 9. So I will leave you for now and read some more of Edna's story..thank you again for your insightful posts. I look forward to being with you each day...anna

Wonderful post Anna.

I have always thought that Cora was an overposessive mother. I also think you must consider that all three girls did not have children. I think that they all consciously decided not to have any. Kathleen certainly married young enough to have them. In all cases, they looked at their Mother and did not want to be that person. The Pulitzer as far as I have read is always for the body of work and not just a single one. The poem in question , I loved Mountain girls way of looking at it, although I have always leaned to the "Sticky sentimental version of it". I dislike that sort of poetry and tend to stay away. I loved her lighter stuff and some of the latest things she wrote. On the abortion, I feel a bit differently . I think that Cora thought honestly that she was helping Edna.. I do not believe that Edna could have dealt with a child. She is far too narciscistic.

I want to thank all of you for choosing to share part of yourselves. I feel as if a magical thing has happened as we read this book together. Even though I'm in my own separate home many miles from each of you, I feel a connection and a closeness toward you all. I can't help feeling that whenever I might see one of your names in any future discussion, I will always feel a sense of gladness and recognition...as if I KNOW you in a special way. I'm so glad we're all sharing this experience together now.

Your posts have been insightful, heart-warming, thought provoking and just plain wonderful. Hey, I'm so glad you're all here right now.

Harriet

was my morning giggle, even as I felt sorry for the three sons. LOL

It snowed here last night, and I'm looking out as I'm typing and it looks just like powdered-sugar land. Soooo lovely!

Stephanie, I do tend to agree with you about Edna's abortion. I feel that if Cora hadn't felt it was for the best, she would not have chosen to involve herself in it so intimately, and surely might have urged against it. We do seem to have a majority opinion about the sentimental nature of Harp Weaver.

I'm so glad to have your opinion and input, Stephanie.

Kathleen emerges as an interesting person in the next part of the book. Little is said about it on a continuous basis, but Kathleen is writing fiction and poetry...moving right into Edna's home territory, so to speak...and being published as well. Predictably, Cora is frantic to control the situation, wanting success and acclamation for the creative work of her youngest. It is Edna who provides an affectionate voice of reason and good sense. From Edna's letter to Cora, p. 295.

"Kathleen is not a baby...and she has been struggling for years to be allowed to manage her own affairs. If she knew the kind of letter you wrote me in her behalf, she would froth at the mouth and spit brimstone. If it's a good book, nothing can harm her. If it's a bad book, nothing can help her. Won't you please RELAX?"

Edna was notably generous toward Kathleen, defending the merit of her work to friends like Elinor Wylie, and showing every indication of genuine appreciation of her sister's writing. Perhaps Kathleen was the only of the sisters who was making headway escaping both the influence of Cora AND the legend of her sister?

---

The last few pages of photographs in the first half of the book are of Edna with Eugen Boissevain, the man she married a few months after she received the Pulitzer.

Norma's husband, Charlie, saw Eugen as "the solution to a lot of problems for Edna. He was obviously the mother type who would give complete attention, at all times, to her needs."

Norma had another reaction. After announcing his impending marriage to Edna, Eugen had commented to Norma, "I'm not marrying the family, you know!" (p.253) Norma was offended.

Has Eugen thrown down a gauntlet to threaten the pattern of the "deadly devotion" of the Millays?

HOW DO YOU REGARD THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN EDNA AND EUGEN? WHAT WERE SOME OF THE ELEMENTS THAT MADE IT WORK?

Harriet

Gosh, some apostrophes and quotation marks haven't been coming out in my last post. I don't know why, or if it's my computer that's at fault or not. I've been trying to edit my previous post. Please forgive.

A little bit later...

Well it's beyond me! Apostrophes are certainly coming out properly in this post. I even tried deleting my last post and pasting it again with all grammar carefully checked. The same problems repeated.

Oh well....

Harriet

HI EVERYBODY - I'M JUST FLABBERGASTED AT ALL YOUR WONDERFUL POSTS! WE HAVE BECOME A FAMILY, I DO BELIEVE!

A family of strangers, is it possible? And we are not having any problems with our relationship one to the other. Hahaha It's amazing that we can connect in this manner through this medium, isn't it?

SO MANY POSTS I can hardly comment on them all. BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WHAT YOU HAVE GIVEN US TO THINK ABOUT IN THIS BOOK AND IN EDNA'S POETRY.

As I've said before, I'm not good with poetry so am not even going to attempt to expound on the individual posts about the "BALLAD." Do want to comment on your remarks, however, and I want to ask if there is such a thing as a NORMAL RELATIONSHIP with a family member or a friend. WHO IS TO JUDGE? Certainly, MOUNTAINGAL, you had a very unhappy bond with your mother! How very sad for both of you, that's tragic! And hugs for you for sharing it with us.

We've all agreed that we see different things in art, and poetry is an art form; is it a measure of Edna Millay's greatness that a poem can reflect varying expressions of emotion? I would think so. BRUMIE saw "love and tenderness" in the BALLAD.

What a touching story, HARRIET, about your grandmother and your mother - how difficult that would be to know that, in all probability, you will never see your daughter again. How long did she grieve over that - no doubt, the rest of her life!

AND I LOVED THAT JOKE!!! Am still smiling over that!

Great point, STEPHANIE - all three Millay girls looked at their mother and did not want to be like her in any fashion. Cora was not a role model as she herself said in the book. She called herself a "slut" at one point a I remember. Also this statement - " I think that Cora thought honestly that she was helping Edna.." - we must ponder that. Would Edna have been able to care for a child? Could that have been Cora's reason for helping abort the baby?

What do the rest of you think?

Have just time today to make a few comments on the book - PARTS FIVE THROUGH SEVEN.

Harriet - those are wonderful questions and I will attempt to answer them when I come back.

The title of this new chapter is "LOVE AND FAME" - sounds good, doesn't it!!!! And under the title is this quote from Edna"

"The younger generation forms a country of its own"

Isn't that true of every generation!

Back later - e.g.

marriage goes. I'm still looking for the motherly type of man who gives his complete attention to me, but alas, as my mother used to say, "They were thickly seeded but sprouted very thinly or not at all." It sounds better in German, but you get the drift. LOL.

Edna's relationship with Eugen began as it would end. He took care of her.

She had returned from Europe ill and demoralized. She had been impregnated by a dissolute charmer named George Daubigny, a man Cora felt was a lookalike for Edna's father. Edna had begun the formalities of getting a marriage license... but nothing came of this. Why?

Was it because Cora so despised Daubigny? Or was Edna unwilling to commit? Or was Daubigny a hit-and-run lover? In any event, Edna, with Cora's help, terminated the pregnancy. This had not been an episode where Edna, unconcerned, merely went on to the next casual relationship. She was wounded emotionally, ill physically, and recovering from an abortion besides.

Eugen, on the other hand, was immediately enchanted with Edna. "Hell," he said. "I don't want to have a dirty little love affair with her; I want to marry her."

He was a man with financial resources... handsome, witty...and he took charge. He arranged for medical tests and took Edna to all kinds of specialists. He talked to doctors, arranged her schedule to suit her writing preferences, and cheerfully paid the bills.

Whatta guy!

Before I retired, we co-workers used to chat during lunch. We agreed that every working woman needed a surrogate wife...someone to do the things that most wives do for their husbands, even though they may work themselves. Just about every woman knew exactly what we were referring to. Who among us had not triple-timed our pace with necessary appointments after work? From kids to kitchen, we handled it after we came home.

Somehow men understand these things better? In a surprising number of cases, they do manage to arrange things more simply for themselves. Even the nicest of them seem to honestly feel that he has done his part when he finishes his day on the job. Just how does one combat such an honest, virtuous conviction in an otherwise lovable man?

Eugen was the extraordinary exception...at least where Edna was concerned. Do YOU know many men like him?

Harriet

Happy Saint Patrick's Day to all!

Harriet

My daughter who teaches in a college is home for a few days - well, until Tuesday, so I am enjoying my visit with her. Just came to the computer to see what's going on, will not linger. I did have this quote underlined in my book, it does explain Edna Millay's popularity I believe, and this is speaking of her poetry and it's appeal to the public:

The reader is encouraged, invited even, to suspect autobiography. It may be a naive way to read, but it is as enduring as human curiousity. This confusion between what an author imagines and writes, and what she may actually do, would help earn Millay a small fortune- and a large audience.

Thanks, Harriet, for your comments on Edna's marriage to Eugen - yes, what a guy!!! Handsome, rich and devoted!!!! Just what Edna needed and we wonder how Mama Cora must have felt? If it is true that she was afraid to lose Edna's attentions if she had a baby, what is her fear of Edna's husband?

One little (well, actually two little) quotes from publications caught my eye and today newspapers wouldn't dream of a headline or byline like the following. After Edna's first interview with the New York Evening Post, the byline read: "A FIRESIDE AFTERNOON IN CROTON HILLS WITH GIRL WINNER OF $1000 PULITZER POETRY PRIZE."

Later, as Edna began reading tours throughout the country, headlines described her as the POET-GIRL of American writing.

She was about thirtish at this time, I believe??? America thought of her as a Girl?

One of you mentioned the episode of Eugen's making it clear that he was not marrying the whole family (haha - will he find out different?), but Cora wrote to Norma asking about him and her reply is quoted in the book, including this statement: "he has had several fortunes in his life and will doubtless make another, but he has enough to do anything they will want to do, keep a maid and a couple of cars......and travel or buy a country place, etc.

After regaining her health, Eugen bought them a brick house in Greenwich Village and then they managed a trip to Camden, where Edna repaid all her family's debts. She also wrote to Cora, sending her $75 and she makes clear in the letter that every cent is from her own bank account and not from her "rich husband."

Of course, the rich husband is now able to keep her free from financial worries and she can afford to spend all she makes. She embarked on a cross-country reading tour which was a great success; you will all be interested in her views of marriage, - well - aren't you? After all those affairs?

(marriage is) one of the most civilized institutions in the world...But....swimming is one of the most wonderful of sports, and yet there are always some people who cannot swim who insist on going into the water and getting drowned. Many people spoil marriage in a like manner. One should be sure she knows how to be married before rushing into it.

How to be married? Pray tell, how does one learn that? Certainly Edna didn't learn how from her mother!!!

Did any of you learn "how to be married?" And from whom?

Back later.....e.g.

Did any of you see "A Woman of Independent Means" with Sally Field? There was a man in there by the name of Arthur Feineman, who was like what I imagine Eugen must have been, handsome, refined, good manners, highly intelligent, dressed well, kind, gentle and rich, and I ABSOLUTELY FELL MADLY IN LOVE WITH HIM! I couldn't believe when she turned him down to marry some dud from Texas, but one can never account for the taste of other people, I guess.
Anyhow, I am still looking for my Arthur Feineman, and I'm about to give up with the thought that such men exist only in the imaginations of women and literature, or exist so rarely that only someone famous like Edna could capture one. But there are others in literature, like Mr. Knightly in one of Jane Austin's novels. Every time I read about one of them I get a crush and sort of go into a nostalgic state about how wonderful someone like that would be. But alas, the world is full of reasonably "nice" men, but most of them are duds---intellectually lazy, fragile egos, lacking in good manners, not very secure in their manhood, needing toys to play with, heavy TV addicts, leaving most of the work to their women, and thoughtless instead of mindful of the relationship. You wonder if they ever even once think about where the clean underwear in their drawer comes from. At least that's the sort of man I've met, and all I can say is "no thanks!"
So I sure hope Edna knows what kind of treasure she has even by the fact that he came right out and stated he is "not marrying the family, but marrying only Edna". That was very brave of him; but of course, it will need her cooperation.
Aaaaah well, I shall go now and dream about Arthur Feineman! I still long for someone like that to cross my path, but at this age I think it's getting pretty iffy. LOL.

MountainGal, I also thought Mr. Knightly in Jane Austen's Emma was kind of special. I like Jane Austen in general. So sorry that I didn't see the Sally Field thing (was it on TV?), but if I ever get an opportunity to see a replay, I'll be extremely interested in Arthur Feineman.

Well, you might be taken with Eugen too in that case.

He nursed her through surgery very soon after their marriage. Edna commented before her operation, "If I die now, I shall be immortal." She was probably very accurate.

She got her Pulitzer in April of 1923, married in July of that same year, and underwent life threatening surgery immediately after. Her death really would have created a sensation. There are some intensely romantic photos of her, taken on her wedding day. Edna wears a veil made out of netting and has a flower in her hair. She looks frail, lovely and other-worldly. In actuality she WAS ill, and about to enter the hospital. Those photos would have been splashed around the world, if she had not survived. As a matter of fact, WOULD she have lived if Eugen had not orchestrated and paid for her medical tests, and insisted on the surgery?

Ella, I felt Edna loved him, but, in my opinion NOT unconditionally. In most marriages, one partner loves more than the other. In this marriage it was plainly Eugen who cared the most. Edna was finally in a position of total emotional, and financial security.

Guess what! She became PICKY.

She seemed defensive and apologetic about Eugen when she introduced him to her former lover, Edmund Wilson. Wilson noted that she was drinking gin, and made a point of saying that Eugen might LOOK steady, but he was really "irresponsible, just like me." Edna seemed to want him to fit in with her bohemian writer friends, even though it was Eugen's steadiness and support that was bringing security to her life. Maybe she was getting a little too much love?

Edmund Wilson wrote to his and Edna's buddy, John Wilson: "We are planning a grand party for her and you and me, detached from our respective husbands and wives." (p.259)

The good old days revived? This marriage would find its OWN unique path as time went on.

Harriet

I think, a Hallmark Hall of Fame Production, and I rented it as a VCR. Oh, I'm still in love with Arthur and sometimes I get all nostalgic for him. But I have never met a REAL Arthur or a real Mr. Knightly. Do they exist?


Well, I can just see Edna pulling the strings in this marriage without ever really seeing what a treasure she has here, but I will look in on you ladies with great anticipation to see what happens next.

I admired Eugen in the book enormously. Edna had a gift for men . I think this clearly shows in the marriage. He was the first male she was serious about that was clearly a good man for her. I think Edna had a clear bump of knowledge as to what worked for her and Eugen fit her needs perfectly. I dont even think he minded that she was not particularly faithful. ( I know , ahead of the story), but this seems important to the marriage. Cora made her peace with him, but dont think either sister did. But then are we are that Edna wanted him to be fond of her sisters. I sort of see him as the bulwark she could hide behind.

Stephanie, Edna surely did have a gift for dealing with men. I particularly remember one anecdote told by a woman friend of Edna. She and Edna were talking about how to capture a man's attention. Edna advised her friend to ask the man who interested her for something...a light for a cigarette, perhaps. Then, Edna advised, he'll start making conversation...and there you are.

The friend commented ruefully that it worked every time for Edna, but not for ordinary mortal women. Edna drew attention and interest wherever she went.

I'm not sure about Eugen really being relaxed about any other relationships that she had, but he accepted it partly because he loved her, and partly because he felt her creativity put her in a special category with special needs.

Anyhow that's how I saw it in the book, I didn't see him as frightened of her...just tuned in to what Edna needed to be happy. Does that make sense?

Harriet

Absolutely, HARRIET AND STEPHANIE, Edna drew men to her as a flame draws a moth. And women, too, admired her. She and several other speakers were invited to Bowdoin College; the others being Robert Frost, Carl Sandburg and Professor Irving Babbitt of Harvard, and which one not only pleased the press but was the most popular with the students? Of course, Edna! They stomped their feet in approval when she had finished; in contrast, the press reported that Robert Frost was curmudgeonly and surly! And it was around this time that Harriet was awarded an honoary doctor of letters degree by Tufts College in Boston.

Also around this time she and Eugen bought a property of 435 acres with a dilapidated house in need of many repairs and Edna named it Steepletop after a common wildflower that grew everywhere (the common name for the weed is hardhack). I'm not familiar with that at all, is anyone?

By the fall of 1925 Cora was back in their lives - living at Steepletop doing the cooking and the housekeeping!

By chance I found a reference to the house on the Internet in connection with Edna and her home Steepletop is now a Colony for the Arts, established by her sister, Norma Millay in 1973. The Millay Colony for the Arts affords writers, composers, and visual artists the chance to further their work in surroundings already rich with an artistic heritage.

HI MOUNTAINGAL! Stick around, the story is far from over!

WHERE IS ANNA?

WHERE IS BRUMIE?

Whatcha all doing?

later……

Oh, a postscript! This afternoon my daughter and I went to see the movie, "IRIS" - have any of you seen it? She reminded me somewhat of Edna, she was a writer (Iris Murdoch), and had it seemed to me the same attitude towards men and women!

Between finding seniornet unavailable, reading all the posts and then re reading about our Edna I have been digesting ...and you know sometimes thoughts give you a headache.

Edna was at last wise to what she needed in a man in her life. And wasnt she lucky to have found him? And while it seems that she found what she needed I think Eugen found what he needed as well. It was a symbiotic relationship..He had no choice but to give her freedom but it also gave him the freedom to do what he wished.. to adore her and care for her.

I have known some relationships that were similiar ..not to the extent of allowing affairs but where the man did so much for the woman. For whatever reason ...a form of control ...and one in which the woman allowed it because she also got to do things she wanted. And I am sure when I read some of her notes regarding the planned honeymoon ..especially where she said something about a round the world honeymoon and then says WE ARE ARENT WE? She was delighted to give over the tasks she had shouldered so long on her own. To help her family and not worry about the cost, to be able to write without worrying about meals and all the mundane things that life requires of us.

I have read at sometime or other that when a couple is childless one becomes the parent and the other the child. Now we know Edna lost her childhood when she became responsible for her younger sisters and her mother. Her fame really did little to alleiviate that so now she was able to be a child,. a famous one to boot. And Eugen was the perfect parent. looking after her every needs. She was also as we have noted a very sexual person and in that case I am sure she satisfied him in ways we can only imagine. Well perhaps not imagine but I think she brought to her relationship a sort of modern philosophy ..how does that go If it feels good do it? and that is really a rather childlike attitude.

And for Eugen it was enough that she married him and allowed him to care for her. It became his motive for living ...I think Cora accepted him because he was giving her jewel what she could only think she deserved. That her sisters would be less charmed is natural. They have been in competition and she has the greater fame and now the perfect husband ...

now I must go back to bed as it is after 2am here, but I put myself to sleep re reading the pages mentioned and now that I have given my thoughts I am ready to sleep....anna

Anna, what a thoughtful post! I believe you hit the nail right on the head when you talk about a symbiotic relationship. It explains such a lot about Edna's and Eugen's lifestyle and activities.

However, when Edna was continuously ill for months and months well after recovering from her surgery, even Eugen began to long for happier times. Eugen wrote to Gladys, whose poet-husband, Arthur Ficke, was also having health problems: "Gladdy, will you come and have some fun with Ugin in New York? I will ship my sick poet to yours...Whatyersay?...Let's park them for a while."

And again, in another letter: "God, but it will be wonderful when Vincent is on her feet again and can do what she likes, and may be, once we all four get roaringly, indecently, hilariously, indiscretely and undiscriminatingly drunk. I'm sick of medicines and doctors and carefulness....Jesus, how I'm longing to have her well. We are beginning to be sick of it."

Then he added, "Oh, and I forgot to tell you that I love Vincent."

Going beyond saintliness, Eugen even accepted Cora as a houseguest at Steepletop for many months, so that she could be near her sick daughter. After a long-g-g, patient period, Eugen finally insisted that Cora accept an invitation to visit friends.

Was Edna having hysterical illness? One or two friends suggested that possibility to Eugen in letters. He never commented on the thought...yet, no doctor could find a cause for the headaches and malaise that constantly plagued her. Her sensitive temperament seemed to find and hold illness, even when there was no physical cause. Nevertheless, her illness didn't seem to impair her ability to do her beloved work because, regardless of her physical condition, Edna continued to write each morning.

One more comment about Cora, during the period she lived at Steepletop. A girl that Eugen hired to help out in the house commented on how hard Cora worked at cooking and cleaning. She said,"Cora was very affectionate, very warm, but very lonely...She talked a lot about her husband; he had been abusive, she said. Edna had decided not to have children. Cora told me that, and yes, I think it disappointed her." p.279.

Harriet

Harriet there are people I know who enjoy ill health ..in fact my husband;s sister is a prime example of that. In her early 50's she developed a form of arthritis and when visiting she would park herself in a comfortable chair and demand ( in the nicest possible way) that our children get her a glass of water, a Kleenex, a cup of tea but only in a china cup and so on. This was a couple without children and her husband became the parent. Now in her late 70's she is confined to a wheel chair.

Once she had knee replacement therapy ..and while visiting her she told the Physical therapist that she didnt feel like having therapy right then Reported to her doctor he came in and as politely as possible told her if she didnt cooperate she was going to end up in a wheel chair someday and all the surgery would be for naught. Which is what happened. Her husband who himself is ill now waits on her. She sleeps until noon , then he helps her bathe and dress, applies her makeup and puts on her jewelery and then prepares breakfast for her.

In a letter I recieved yesterday she sweetly complained he was in bed for a week and it was difficult for her but she managed. But was so glad when he recovered to take over the jobs again.

So I see Edna a bit like my sister. Her illness is also a way to control Eugen. She has what she wants , time to do her writing and someone to look after her. I dont mean she does this deliberately ..I dont think my sister in law does either but they are both very self centered. They do it so sweetly that everyone feels sorry for them and tries to do whatever it takes to help them get better. Eugen is the father she never had and she needs his attention. Yet she is also punishing him very gently for abandoning her when she was little. I know this is not a field in which I have any expertise but it just seems that way to me.

And as we have discussed before her pattern of behaviour is also demonstrated in the lives of other famous people. I think sometimes people who are very talented in what ever way need to be self centered because it requires an enormous amount of energy and discipline to create. And I think they are often torn by the need to be who they are and to also allow the world to be there for them. Whether in the form of family, friends, associates etc.

Just thinking on a rather dull day when the weatherman says more rain is on the way. Since we need rain we just have to get through the dullness of the days. anna

Hi, ANNA, up until 2 a.m.? Mercy, I hope you nap today - your statement about the marriage of Edna and Eugen is very astute. Tell me, if you can, how difficult it was to adjust to living alone after your husband died. I've never lived alone and I am afraid I might get very lazy, have often wondered how it would be! Speaking of such……

Nothing, nothing, could be worse than the house that Iris Murdoch and John Bayley lived in as portrayed by the movie "IRIS." It would have been fun to have been the stage manager - what junk, what filth, what a mess! And we wondered why they did not get a housekeeper or a cleaning lady, as neither were on the edge of poverty.

But your remark about Edna's marriage is very astute - "And Eugen was the perfect parent. looking after her every needs. She was also as we have noted a very sexual person and in that case I am sure she satisfied him in ways we can only imagine."

I, also, wondered about Edna's months of illness, HARRIET! We'll never know the cause of it, of course, but then neither did any of the doctors, specialists, chiropracters, etc. that they employed. One can only speculate knowing Edna's disposition that she was missing the excitement of a former life, perhaps, felt entrapped by marriage and the house they remodeled! Who knows?

Does anyone know anything at all about Elinor Wylie other than that she reviewed Edna's poetry and was a good friend? We know she is an author and not central to this book; however what a woman to have left her first husband and their child to run off with a married man which could have been the reason for her husband's insanity later and her child committing suicide. At any rate, Edna dedicated a book of poetry and this poem to her:

SONG FOR A LUTE

Seeing how I love you utterly,
And your disdain is my despair
Alter this dulcet eye, forbear
To wear those looks that latterly
you wore, and won me wholly, wear
A brow more dark, and bitterly,
Berate my dulness and my care,
Seeing how you smile is my despair
Seeing how I love you utterly

Seeing how I love you utterly,
And your distress is my despair,
Alter this brimming eye, not wear,
The trembling lip that latterly
Under a more auspicious air
You wore, and thrust me through, forbear
To drop your head so bitterly
Into your hands, seeing how I dare
No tender touch upon your hair,
Knowing as I do how fitterly
You do reproach me than forbear
Seeing how your tears are my despair
Seeing how I love you utterly

Fitterly? A word to rhyme? Or a word?

Poet lovers - what say you to this one?

ANNA, we were posting together!

Funny, I have a sister-in-law who is somewhat like your own. She has never been independent in any way, never worked outside the home, and expected her husband and children to be ever so considerate of her. She had a knee operation and wouldn't do the therapy necessary to get back in shape; said it hurt too much. Well, of course it did, but this woman is not going to be in pain.

Actually, she sits in front of TV most of the day, munching away on junk food, her condo (her husband is dead) is a disaster. She has a cleaning lady once a week but we can't understand what the cleaning lady does!

See you later......

Anna, I agree with you and make this one addendum to your perceptive comments about Edna and health. Some people use ill health to control others, and some use it as a buffer between themselves and the responsibilities and realities of life. Ill health can be used to excuse a multiplicity of "I-mean-to-do-it" events. It can alibi ambitions that were never fulfilled and dreams that died before their time.

We're assembled here talking about Edna St. Vincent Millay because we all agree she was a great poetess, but I wonder... DID THE BODY OF HER WORK ACTUALLY LIVE UP TO EDNA'S OWN EXPECTATIONS?

Is there something in the creative mind that always makes a concept more beautiful and elusive than an actual finished work? Can an artist of any sort truly hope to duplicate the original theme seen in the mind's eye, so that the final creation justifies the dream in every way?

It's surprising to me how many creative people turn to liquor, and other substances to mute pain. I have often wondered if this is because their accomplishments, no matter how excellent in the eyes of the world, too often falls short of their hopes? Is it possible for a genius to feel like an imposter because he's never measured up to the abstract concepts in his own mind?

I was very moved by this poem, which expresses some of that feeling to me.

IF STILL YOUR ORCHARDS BEAR


Brother, that breathe the August air
Ten thousand years from now,
And smell--if still your orchards bear
Tart apples on the bough--


The early windfall under the tree,
And see the red fruit shine,
I cannot think your thoughts will be
Much different from mine.


Should at that moment the full moon
Step forth upon the hill,
And memories hard to bear at noon,
By moonlight harder still,
Form in the shadow of the trees, --
Things that you could not spare
And live, or so you thought, yet these
All gone, and you still there,


A man no longer what he was,
Nor yet the thing he'd planned,
The chilly apple from the grass
Warmed by your living hand--


I think you will have need of tears;
I think they will not flow;
Supposing in ten thousand years
Men ache, as they do now.


ESVM

To my mind, this is a blockbuster of a poem... universal in its rueful regret of what we may have missed accomplishing or lost in our lives.

What do YOU all think about it?

Harriet

Ella, when I posted my message, I saw yours for the first time. Hi! Off to a dental appointment. See you all in a bit.

Harriet

I couldnt sleep last night because I was thinking about Edna and Eugen. It also reminded me of my own marriage. And this poem came to me ..it is not particularly complimentary but very honest. I posted it in poetry first but decided to share it here as well....

 
When asked how my lost beloved treated me  
And my reply as an equal of course How else?  
Not for me to be wed with someone in unequal harness 
When he was not there to give me aid than a maid  
Employed for that task did do the onerous tasks 
My time was spent in other things in raising sane  
Healthy children, in caring for the various pets  
In thinking and writing and reading the books  
That now line the shelves in each room or loll  
On the floor, on tables and beneath my bed  
Cousins to the dust kittens nestled  there 
If I encouraged him to follow his star than  
I demanded the right to give myself the same   
So in the end when he was home again and I  
Ignored the wifely tasks , the cooking and washing  
And spent my idle time engrossed in a favorite book  
He would not allow me to apologize but instead  
With a loving look said It is your day to do as you wish  

And sweetly I acquiesced and smiled my yes ....

anna alexander 3/19/2002©

Hi! I'm still here - been lurking. Your posts has been great and I agee with you all. Anna I liked your post #236.

I like/dislike Eugen. On pg. 250 I was impressed "He said that Vincent was the most fascinating person alive .....I don't want to have a dirty little love affair with her; I want to marry her!"

We're having a lot of rain too and expecting more tonight and in the morning. Sure make you feel gloomy. But the grass is growing so are the flowers. Spring is coming!

I believe that Edna was still pretty much of a child. More than once someone described her as dressing like a child (example pg. 234).

See what you all think about this site.

http://www.poets-corner.org

There are bunch of Elinor Wylie's poems.

give you my thoughts (even though I haven't read the book, which I guess is pretty brassy!). However, I am reading a book right now called "The Highly Sensitive Person" by Elaine N. Aron Ph.D. She claims that about 20% of humans as well as animals are more sensitive than others, and from that group come our artists and thinkers and creative people, the ones who are sensitive enough to be able to connect dots and see patterns that most people don't see. As I said before, these people have no filters to filter out hurt and pain and discomfort, or beauty. Even their bodies tend to be more sensitive with multiple allergies, a propensity towards addiction, needing more sleep, and their bodies react to things that ordinary people don't even notice with stress, etc. This fits with other things I've read about the creative personality. What I think is that Edna really needed this long period of recuperation and she was not using her illness to manipulate anyone. She was raised in an environment where, despite her sensitive nature, she was responsible for her sisters, was really not able to be a child, had a lot of responsibilities and stresses, and when she became a poet she lived up to other people's expectations of what a girl poet was like. Highly sensitive people try to please because they can clearly see when they are falling short in someone else's mind and are very aware of it, and because of that they often don't know where to stop. Again, it's a matter of not knowing where the boundaries are. So they go and go and go, and the exhaustion becomes accumulative, both physical and mental---but mostly mental. When Eugen took her under his wing she probably felt safe enough to finally just collapse and give her body and mind the rest that she needed. Compare her to a high-strung race horse as compared to a cart horse. We treat a race horse differently because we KNOW it's high-strung, so we avoid doing whatever will upset the horse even if it seems unreasonable to us. We don't allow that same sort of thing for people and just demand that they "snap out of it", and so the tiredness accumulates. Anyhow, since I haven't read about Edna in particular I don't know if that fits, but I have read about creative people and so I'm assuming she was one of them and that the same sort of pattern was hers. Even Eugen didn't seem to understand that about her, although he was probably more patient with her than most. As for men and women who use illnes to manipulate and control others, that's different. That's neurotic and has nothing to do with need.

ANNA - HOW LOVELY! Did you just write it in your head while lying in your bed? You are so talented and I admire you tremendously!!! And appreciate all you have brought into this discussion! THANK YOU SO MUCH!

And what do you mean that your poem is not complimentary when you write such lines as these:

He would not allow me to apologize but instead
With a loving look said It is your day to do as you wish
And sweetly I acquiesced and smiled my yes ....


BRUMIE - what is it you dislike about Eugen? I haven't thought about that, but am going to as I continue reading. I'm not sure that I would want a man to hover over me (although I doubt that Edna allowed that, remember, she was off on a reading tour without him shortly after their marriage). Here is a poem Elinor Wylie wrote from the site you gave us: (Thanks, BRUMIE)

Quarrel 

          LET us quarrel for these reasons:  
          You detest the salt which seasons  
          My speech . . . and all my lights go out  
          In the cold poison of your doubt.  
          I love Shelley . . . you love Keats  
          Something parts and something meets.  
          I love salads . . . you love chops;  
          Something goes and something stops.  
          Something hides its face and cries;  
          Something shivers; something dies.  
          I love blue ribbons brought from fairs;  
          You love sitting splitting hairs.  
          I love truth, and so do you . . .  
          Tell me, is it truly true?  

               Elinor Wylie

That relationship doesn't sound too agreeable does it? She and Edna were two of a kind I think; both did what they wanted regardless of whom they hurt, or do all of you agree?

We are posting together, MOUNTAINGAL! Hmmm, your insight is intriguing as to Edna and other artists! High strung huh"

"Compare her to a high-strung race horse as compared to a cart horse. We treat a race horse differently because we KNOW it's high-strung, so we avoid doing whatever will upset the horse even if it seems unreasonable to us. We don't allow that same sort of thing for people and just demand that they "snap out of it", and so the tiredness accumulates."

I am so awed by all of you! You give me so much to consider - I'm off to think about it all! THANKS SO MUCH!

questions. The first one was: "Is there something in the creative mind that always makes a concept more beautiful and elusive than an actual finished work? Can an artist of any sort truly hope to duplicate the original theme seen in the mind's eye, so that the final creation justifies the dream in every way?" ---- and the answer that I've discovered from personal experience and all my reading is that the concept in your mind are ALWAYS more beautiful than anything you can ever express, and the finished work ALWAYS falls short of what you have inside, but that's not necessarily bad or a negative thing, because at least you got partially there in your own mind, probably learned a lot, and you know the rest of humanity doesn't know what was in your mind. In a way it is constant frustration, but that's also what spurs the artist on to begin the next work.

"It's surprising to me how many creative people turn to liquor, and other substances to mute pain. I have often wondered if this is because their accomplishments, no matter how excellent in the eyes of the world, too often falls short of their hopes? Is it possible for a genius to feel like an imposter because he's never measured up to the abstract concepts in his own mind? " ---- I think there are those artists whose work falls short and so they turn to addictions, but I also think those are very few, and they have neurotic tendencies in the first place and possibly would have become addicted anyway. Mostly I think they turn to addictions because, as I said in the previous post, they are high-strung and just plain exhausted from the stress that their bodies put them through because of their sensitivity and not being able to filter things out. The world is always overwhelming them, literally. But what happens to the more healthy artist is that when the work is finished it does give him/her a sense of satisfaction even it falls short, because it is still a release, even if it's only a partial release. And once his/her work goes out into the world for other people to interpret, I think the healthy artist forgets all about what he was trying to express and just goes with the flow. He may appreciate the fact that people like his work and enjoy the adulation, but he doesn't beat himself over the head about it falling short, because most of the time he's already on to the next project which will also fall short. It's inevitable because it's sort of like a mystic process. We don't even have the vocabulary for it and our material existence is limited in what we can express. When you begin to get paid for your work it's also very satisfying because with that money you can make your life easier so you can enjoy experiencing more things, and it's an upward spiral: The more you experience, the more creative your mind is, the more work you might do (unless you allow distractions), the more money you will make. Of course, it can also be a trap. Most artists with any kind of fame come to that point sooner or later where they have put themselves in a box because their audience expects a certain type of work from them, and nothing else. For instance, if you walk into a gallery as a customer and want to buy a "Thomas Kincaide" art piece, that's what you want. Kindaide has a certain style and a certain subject matter that you are familiar with. You don't want anything "new" or "experimental" by him, but exactly what you expect Kincaide to paint. It's like type casting in the movies. And so many artists have tried different subjects in different styles after they have attained a measure of fame, and have discovered that they have to use a different name in order to be recognized. Painters do that often and may have four or five different names, depending on what they experiment with. I read a book recently by someone named Anne Tyler who apparently does a lot of mysteries. She wrote a book that was autobiographical and no one liked it because it wan't what they expected from her. Since I had never read other stuff by her I saw right away that it was autobiographical and was a wonderful book, but I didn't have the same prejudice, so I wrote a book review for Barnes and Noble that gave a different slant on the book. That can actually be very hurtful to an artist because they are who they are and don't want to be boxed by the society in which they live, and they want to be free to have more than one way of expression. But society is pretty strict about that. Now, that could drive an artist to drink or drugs, because it's so very frustrating. Some give in to it because the money is good, but they get terribly bored, and so they drink or do drugs or have sexual addictions, anything to get rid of the boredom. These are people who need stimulation and get bored easily, but it's hard to give up the money and fame once you've reached a certain amount of recognition and may have other people depending on you.

Anne Rice, NOT Anne Tyler.

Anna, your poem is a lovely, lovely tribute to a wonderful guy...your husband. Your relationship was plainly one of mutual regard and love. How nice it is that you have so many tender memories to enjoy!

Your image of "dust kittens" made me smile. I sure agree that human values and books are more valuable than housework. I also was particularly taken with the last three lines of your poem. It gave a "feel" to how the two of you interacted that a thousand words of prose couldn't have duplicated. I think I see that he treasured your preferences, and urged you toward them so tenderly...that it was your joy to "smilingly acquiesce."

If my words are correct, Anna, chalk it up to the beauty of your poem, that communicated so much emotion in so few lines. Thanks for sharing your poetry.

Harriet

MountainGal, never think that you're "butting in." Your opinion is exactly what IS wanted, and Ella and I are delighted if you get enough to "grab onto" and join us all. Discussions are fun precisely because of people who interact and talk to each other. Jump in, please, and often! You have plainly done a great deal of thinking and reading about creative and artistic temperaments and your insights are fascinating. We're interested in your take on the poems, the people and the situations in the book.

In the end, all events and people can be translated into subjective terms, and I do believe that's what are discussions are all about. Everybody filters books through the network of their own life experiences. There are no wrongs and rights where interpretation is concerned. There is only the enrichment and excitement that comes from looking at the world through the eyes of another person for a short time. I surely enjoy that with ALL of you!

Ella, I was both interested in, and puzzled by, Edna's poem to Elinor Wylie in your post #237. Strange that It took Edna many years to write it, and it only reached its final form after Elinor's death. I felt that the title, "Song For a Lute" seems to compare Wylie to a musical instrument whose melody of poetry was very sweet.

Edna felt very deeply about Wylie and when she learned of her friend's death before one of her on-stage poetry Readings, Edna commented that the world had lost a poet "much greater than myself." As a tribute, she recited some of Wylie's poetry by heart, rather than her own. That was moving.

However, I must admit that I'm confused by the poem itself, because it's so rich in contradictions. Edna seems to be saying that she can't bear Wylie's disdain, but she also has trouble with her smiles and tears. And yet, she loves her "utterly." Any help here from anyone? Does anybody know if the relationship between the two poetesses was platonic or sexual? Would that have any bearing on the meaning of the poem?

I'll tell you the lines from a poem that really does have impact on me, partly because they're so very comprehensible. Ella, you reproduced Wylie's poem Quarrel in your post #245 from the new site Brumie found for us. These lines knocked me out.

Let us quarrel for these reasons:
You detest the salt which seasons
My speech . . . and all my lights go out
In the cold poison of your doubt.

Who among us hasn't endured a fight where words flew hurtfully? And it's so true...a determined attack from someone I care about can make me doubt myself and make "all my lights go out" temporarily. When we love, I guess we open ourselves to pain as well as happiness.

Harriet

We have been reading some very powerful poems. Whatever kind of person Edna was she was a woman who FELT LIFE....she never lived on the edge of life but right in its vortex.

Back a few posts ( and I have been at my dentist and now my two front teeth have been replaced and I can SMILE) someone quoted from the book a remark the maid said about Cora ...that she was sad that Edna chose not to have a child. Since she helped E to abort I find that strange. And I think she was just saying that because it is the type of statement expected.

I am not sure about the relationship between Elinor and Edna...I have had girl friends and still do that are so precious to me...and nothing sexual but it would wound me if they said something that showed a deep disapproval of anything I did. Thank goodness they love me and all my untidy ways just as I am...and they have been there for me for over 40 years and I know my life would have been poorer without them. I think women are capable of deep devotion to each other. Even men can be although most suppress that maternal side. Thank goodness Eugen didnt for Edna needed that side the most...Sexual favors she could find but the kind of devotion Eugen gave was special.

SMILING AT EVERYONE>>>>.anna

We share a common experience, Anna. I too have crowns on my front teeth because I fell on ice many years ago. The lack of those teeth made me feel and look like someone out of Li'l Abner when I got a glimpse of myself in the dentist's office. (I never should have looked.) The final result, though, was really excellent.

An anecdote in connection with that: one day I met a friend of my sister's for the first time. It was after my front teeth crowns had been installed. She looked at me and my sister sitting together and said, "I can see the family resemblance, but," she said while pointing to me, "YOUR teeth are much better than your sister's."

Her remark made both me AND my sister smile. Neither of us mentioned that my teeth were the result of technology, while my sister's teeth were her own.

Enjoy your own lovely smile, Anna.

Harriet

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As I read Savage Beauty I ask myself is there anyone who has it all together or has shown that unconditional love.  Yes, I did and I overlooked it.

Pg. 253 Norma says "I remember being in the living room and she (Edna) opposite me.  He, Gene, suddenly says to me 'I'm not marrying the family, you know!'  She said 'wouldn't want to say that again!' He repeats it. I'm giving them both every chance - giving Vincent a chance to say 'Please don't say it, Gene.' "Are you really going to marry this low, cheap son of a...? Can you really go on? Sister think it over. Is this what you want to live with?" I burst into tears and run upstairs. And she didn't say a word. I went up to the bed and threw myself on it.  Suddenly everything cleared.  What am I doing?  You don't have to see her - If she's happy.  You love her enough.

 

 

HELLO EVERYBODY! My house is my own again after visits by several people, and I was rather tired today, but rejuvenated now after reading all your posts and remembering Edna and Eugen, their lives and their loves.

YES, BRUMIE! You're right, I do remember Norma saying that - showing her love for her sister. But....as for Edna

Can you conceive of a woman who had an affair with another man and then telling her husband? What is even more difficult to accept is the fact that it seemed to have little effect on Eugen and he even wrote a letter to her lover, George, inviting him to their home!

These are strange people to me! I couldn't keep up with them - always living on the edge - it would be exhausting to be around them.

Several of you have alluded to the fact that authors, poets, and creative persons need constant stimulation or contact with others in an intimate way in order to write their poetry and Nancy Milford put this love affair with George Dillon into this context by saying:

"For all the torment they inflicted on each other, it was a remarkably productive relationship for both of them. She sent five sonnets in one letter, twenty-six in the next. She hadn't had a comparable period of such intense productivity since her early days in New York.

New experiences! That would be difficult if one needed constant stimulation in order to write. This George Dillon is quite a bit younger than she is - 14 years younger, I believe - and all these love sonnets to him could be a desperate longing for youth - a woman afraid of her age perhaps?

BRUMIE asked us what we thought of Eugen and we have an example of what one writer, Llewelyn Powys, who lived across the road from Steeepletop, thought of him as he dedicated his book "IMPASSIONED CLAY" by stating" under whose roof (Eugen's) and in the presence of whose daring spirit this book was finished.

This neighbor's wife observed that Eugen and Edna's frequent trips had begun to have an "atmosphere of rioting nights of drinking and loud talk-we came away feeling ravished and this is sad, for Edna has always underneath an ardor sensitive and untraduced." (I looked up that last word in the dictionary and it wasn't there, and then I checked the spelling of it and it's correct, has anyone heard it before???)

Her mother died and was buried at Steepletop - Edna stated.. "The presence of that absence is everywhere." And she and Eugen fled to NY and tried to drink themselves into oblivion. As MOUNTAINGAL said the world was overwhelming Edna and she turned to her addictions.

later....e.g.

that she had an affair and then told her husband. Creative people are NOT ordinary and they don't have ordinary views about life and how to live it, or what they should and shouldn't do with a normal moral code. In fact, for all we know Eugen may even have found that a tad exciting. One never knows exactly where peoples sexual fantasies lie and he may have found it exciting to have a former lover of hers under his own roof and watch them interact now that she was "his". As for her affair with George Dillon, well yes, I can see where that would lead to a very productive period for Edna, and him too. Some people feed off each other's creativity, and sometimes if the chemistry is right, the production soars. As you said yourself, you would be exhausted living around them and trying to keep up. The thing is that they get just as exhausted; they just don't notice it right away the way you and I would, until they are on the edge, at which point they have to take a break and retreat or have a nervous breakdown. But they truly don't have the body signals that are built into the rest of us telling us when to stop because we are tired.


Anyhow, to give you an idea of what a creative person is like, imagine that you were in a place where everything was all wrong, the people all around you were fighting and arguing, the colors were disturbing, the weather was bad, there was a cacophony of unpleasant sound all around, the smells were of a sewer, and everything you touched either bit back or stung you in some way. Your body would react as though it were in a state of emergency, with the adrenalin flowing, your heart pounding, maybe a dry mouth, a cold sweat, all the symptoms of stress being present. Well, for a creative person that is what most of life is like, except that their bodies are also stimulated by good things in the same way, and they can't turn it off. They are wired that way. Which means they are always going at full gallop. It's been proven that good things can stress a person just as much as bad things, and so their adrenaline is constantly flowing, almost like a soldier in the middle of battle. A room with an unpleasant color will eventually be ignored by an ordinary person, and he will settle in and his body will adjust. A creative person's body will never adjust and the color will eventually drive them over the edge in some way. So because the adrenaline is always flowing, they need stimulation and excitement (which is what adrenaline's function in the body is, the stress hormone) to create and also to wear themselves out to get some rest, and at that point they may "rest" for an inordinately long time. The rest of us look at a creative person and say, " why doesn't he/she get it together and take control?" But they can't. I believe that their whole body chemistry is different, and it isn't anything they can control. However, there are variations in intensity of that phenomenon, all the way from very low to be able to lead "almost" a normal life, to sheer craziness that's over the edge. We have to remember that the same chemistry that often drives these people to destruction, is also the same chemistry that drives them to create, and it's a very fine balance that can leave such a person overwhelmed and exhausted.

people who ever lived was Leonardo daVinci, and from what I've recently been reading about him, he was one of the few creative people who had a real handle on all of this, to where he went about deliberately balancing his life between the physical, the creative, the spiritual, the mental and didn't allow any one thing to overwhelm him. I wonder sometimes if he was able to do that because he not only had creative intuition, but also had the benefit of a logical scientific and analytical mind. Most of the time people are given one or the other, but he seems to have been the beneficiary of both----an all-around universal man who was handsome, physically muscular, well dressed, very creative, diplomatic, kind, curious, persistent, willing to experiment and fail, and very analytical. One RARE human being! Most of us are simply not that blessed with all the positive traits, although all of us have a few.

Edna wrote to George Dillon:

"What will come of all this none of us can tell, I think. And by that I mean,...none of us three. The situation is a strange one truly: I am devoted to my husband. I love him more deeply than I could ever express, my feeling for him is in no way changed or diminished since I met you, but whenever I think of you, and I think of you all day and half the night, an enchanted sickness comes over me. If I should never see you again, I believe I should waste and dwindle..."

Edna was caught in an obsessional kind of love with Dillon, a man who felt much less for her. She wrote wildly passionate sonnets to him, about the depth of her love. She made herself vulnerable with the honesty of her desire. Her writing was completely different from the flip, witty observations of love that characterized her earlier years. She was tearing herself apart...and what splendor she wrote as she melted down!

Women have loved before as I love now;
At least, in lively chronicles of the past -
Of Irish waters by a Cornish prow
Or Trojan waters by a Spartan mast
Much to their cost invaded - here and there,
Hunting the amorous line, skimming the rest,
I find some woman bearing as I bear
Love like a burning city in the breast.
I think however that of all alive
I only in such utter, ancient way
Do suffer love; in me alone survive
The unregenerate passions of a day
When treacherous queens, with death upon the tread,
Heedless and willful, took their knights to bed.


ESVM - 1930

And she also wrote sonnets to Eugen with quite a different tone to them. They assured him that he was honored and esteemed. Unbelievably, Edna felt that her esteem could "restore his pride." This was the only indication that I found that maybe the devoted Eugen was having a few problems digesting Edna's relationship with this particular lover.

If in the years to come you should recall,
When faint at heart or fallen on hungry days,
Or full of griefs and little if at all
From them distracted by delights or praise;
When failing powers or good opinions lost
Have bowed your neck, should you recall to mind
How of all men I honored you the most,
Holding you noblest among mortal-kind;
Might not my love--although the curving blade
From whose wide mowing none may hope to hide,
Me long ago below the frosts had laid--
Restore you somewhat to your former pride?
Indeed I think this memory even then
Must raise you high among the run of men.


ESVM - 1930

Then she sent her sonnet about Eugen to Dillon for poetic evaluation! I do wonder what BOTH men thought of all this? Edna plainly loved them both in such different ways. As Ella commented in an earlier post, what a complex being Edna was!

Harriet

I did find this in my unabridged dictionary ..it does not give a definition only that it is an adjective.. so I looked under traduce and this is the definition ..to maliciously defame .,,slander, malign..syn ,,abuse, expose, vilify,descry, and disparage...now I have heard of it before but I no longer remember where... I do know when I read it the reason for the word was clear...now if Edna was UNtraduced than the author was saying she was not one to be malicious or to malign...RIGHT? anna

I cant be sure but I believe what Edna saw in George was not only a physical attraction but one of the mind...Eugen was her husband and he adored her and was proud of her accomplishments but I dont think his mind moved in the same way hers did ..In George she felt a kinship that was beyond the sexual and physical..no matter that she wanted those as well but what she wanted most was that understanding of who she was and where she was coming from....an entirely different relationship....to know someones mind and heart is so special and one so rare you just cant allow it to go...my thoughts on this Thursday when I am taking my teeth to an all you can eat pizza place called CiCi's....cant wait ...anna

THANK YOU, ANNA, for taking your time to find the meaning of that word "traduced." It would have haunted me as words to a song do at times. Yes, that definition would fit - I don't think Edna was malicious, do you? I don't find evidence of that in this book.

Several notations about Eugen in this chapter are revealing. Did you read where he confessed to Edna that he had been in love with a girl eight years earlier (which would have been only a year after their marriage) and that he had just seen her again; further he confesses "I had a few love affairs. Very lovely ones, of which I will tell you when I see you."

Eugen had been sexually involved with other women almost from the very beginning of their marriage and they both talked openly about their various love affairs!

ANNA - I think you are correct when you stated - "cant be sure but I believe what Edna saw in George was not only a physical attraction but one of the mind." The two of them, George and Edna, both struggled with writing poetry and probably stimulated each other's mind in that direction. Somewhere in this chapter I read that George won the Pulitizer Prize for Poetry.

Now, it's my turn to confess that I got a bit bored with all those letters back and forth between Edna and Eugen regarding George! A bit much I thought - I'm going to count the pages here - 13 pages or if you count both sides there are 26 pages devoted to those letters. REALLY - I didn't care to read most of them, did all of you read them?

Eventually, George formed a friendship with a man from Chicago "who adored him" and together they decided to go to Venice without Millay. Charles Ellis said that "there were only two or three really important things in Vincent's life and George Dillon was one of them. He was weak, queer as a three dollar bill….a handsome boy….but weak all the way through." Eugen came to Paris for Edna and the two of them came home to America; but Edna wrote this poem in her notebook which purports to tell of her pain and loss - "Her choice of verbs is key: "Forbear…Flee…Fling him his release."

Distressed mind, forbear
To tease the hooded Why;
That shape will not reply

From the safe chair
To the wind's welter
Flee, if storm's your shelter.

But no, you need must part-
Fling him his release!-
On whose ungenerous heart
Alone, you are at peace.

In December, 1933 Edna gave a reading at Bryn Mawr College "And it was just perfect," said a woman in the audience. Later Edna and Eugen went to someone's house and got very drunk - Eugen got so drunk that he couldn't do anything and they had to drag him into a bed, but the woman speaking of the occasion said that Eugen was a sort of buffer for her - from life, from her life, from life itself.

Milford says at this point both Edna and Eugen were losing control.

MOUNTAINGAL - take heed for I'm going to quote something that YOU COULD HAVE WRITTEN, something very similar to what you have been trying to instill in my head - just read this, which is an excerpt from an interview given by Edna to a reporter:

"I work all the time. I always have notebook and pencil on the table at my bedside. I may wake up in the middle of the night with something I want to put down. Sometimes I sit up and write in bed furiously until dawn. And I think of my work all the time even when I am in the garden or talking to people. That is why I get so tired. When I finished 'Fatal Interview' I was exhausted. I was never away from the sonnets in my mind. Night and day I concentrated on them for the last year and a half.

I am a very concentrated person as an artist. I can't take anything lightly. After I have finished a book I am completely exhausted, and it isn't at all because I am weak. I can spade a garden and not get tired, but the nervous intensity attendant on writing poetry, on creative writing, exhaust me, and I suffer constantly from a headache. It never leaves me while I am working, and for that there is no cure save not to work."

And further in that interview, after a question about how she managed her household, Edna says:

"I have nothing to do with my household. Eugen does all that kind of thing. He engages the servants. He shows them around. He tells them everything. I don't interfere with his ordering of house……..I have no time for it."

One can understand that a husband who took this burden upon himself would be loved by Edna, but he has other qualities besides as the same interviewer described Eugen as"

"….dominating the whole roomful of people by the beauty of his sun-browned body, clad only in a pair of khaki shorts;; by the vigor and gayety of his mind and person, by his quick jests and quiet courtesy. His keen blue eyes darted piercing, laughing glances; his whole body quivered with some jest. He is like Douglas Fairbanks in physical bearing and quickness, and has the patrician bearing and case of features of a Dutch aristocrat."

Quite a guy!

When asked about the laurels that hung on her head, Edna replied:

A woman poet is not at all different from a man poet. She should write from the same kind of life, from the same kind of experience, and should be judged by the same standards. A poet is a poet."

In this interview, one can understand her resentment at being judged by her gender instead of her poetry.

Wish I could meet you, ANNA, at the all-you-can-eat Pizza Parlor! Darn, it's leftovers for us tonight. Must go .......

Tomorrow we finish up this Part of the book and continue on with the last TWO PARTS (see schedule) - can you believe it? It has gone so very fast - our discussion of Edna Millay - and I have enjoyed every minute, every post, every day of it!

Later, eg

Whew, I am finally here. I've been reading like crazy to catch up, then had to read all the wonderful posts, a little over 200 of them, and not a one of them short, either!!

What a beautiful discussion going on....and in so many different ways. Please, please forgive the disruption of taking on another reader in the middle of things.

I took some notes when I was reading posts, but now I see it would never do to bring up old stuff, so I'm only going to write responses that are in some way tied to where the discussion is now. I'll do my best to reduce each response to just one thought.

To Ella. About Cora, I don't think I ever fully understood why she didn't insist on working where her girls lived.....even considering the difficult financial times.

"Waylaid by Beauty." Beauty could be more than nature in the usual sense, could encompass love in many forms, even love that the world frowns on.

(To Ella. Your sister needs her own computer and a gift of outside lessons.)

To Brumie. Agree about Cora treating daughters as friends because of her relationship with her own mother.

To HarrietM. "Charisma" to describe Vincent is perfect!!

To Ella. On your dislike of the word "honey," it made me think of the flowery and overly romantic written expressions OF THE TIMES. Plain old girlfriends would write to each other, "Can't wait to see you to kiss you and hold your hand as we walk along the oceanside."

On the wonderful discussion of Vincent's genius, I would also add her energetic hard work at Vassar where she armed herself with literature and languages. Who knows the origin of all that motivation!!

Ella, I, too, had to do a double-take every time Milford abruptly brought us into the present with a conversation with Norma.

On the name "Vincent," it certainly served her well in the beginning. Wonder how many places might not have published her before her quality was a given? Later, Vincent herself seemed to relish the originality of it.

HarrietM, you wrote that Vincent's genes and Cora's parenting were important factors in Vincent's beginning. I was thinking that both Cora's good and her bad parenting were factors, the bad parenting possibly a factor in Vincent's deeper need for love/beauty. She kept encountering love but some of her poems had that "come close---go away" message to her lovers.....a sure sign of ambivalence about love.

A key reminder from you, Ella, that this is the Roaring 20s, the "jazz age," so in many ways, Vincent was a product of her times, both influencing it and coming from it. The era of Greenwich Village in its heyday...the freedom to BE whoever and whatever.

Anna, loved the wig story and, especially, the stories of your husband's unusual sensitivity to your needs. What a man! I also noted the mysterious comment about your psychologist's assessment..."He was wrong." You sly fox!!

Anna, I was just swept away by the eloquence of your words in defending Vincent's right of choices......choices of things that any one of us might not make, but for Vincent, they were hers to make. And a thousand yeses about our forgiveness of men for their sowing their wild oats and our disparate regulations on women. Both should be contemplated.

more, later

Betty

Welcome to you, Betty!!!

We're all so glad to see you. The more voices there are in this discussion, the richer the blend of our opinions. Please feel free to comment on items pertaining to prior parts of the book also. First of all, we're interested, and secondly, so many incidents and people in Edna's life reflect past events that it seems natural to me that we should look back as we talk together. What fun to see you here!

What a great sequence of posts yesterday. I truly enjoyed them. Ella, what wonderful incidents you chose to highlight. You succeeded in providing a personally edited clarification of the dynamics between Edna and Eugen. You outdid yourself, which isn't easy! Anna, as usual your perceptiveness about Dillon added to the picture immensely.

I'm going to take some of my own advice about looking back. I wanted to reflect on Cora, her life and her death before we leave her entirely. As this discussion progressed, my opinions about her gradually changed from downright hostility to a kind of frustrated sympathy.

More of Cora and her interactions with les filles trois in a bit.

Yay, Betty!

Harriet

At the beginning of the book, my first responses to Cora were surprise that the communications between herself and her very young daughters seemed to focus on how much they "owed" her. I come from a contemporary American culture where a child's "right" to her childhood is sacred thing, and a parent's duty to provide safety and support is enforced by the law. However, Millay's childhood followed a different pattern.

Cora often left her girls alone, allowing herself live-in jobs far from home, with all the prerogatives of personal freedom from motherhood that this might entail. But, MountainGal and Anna, our talk about the artistic temperament made me look at her with a different eye. Did she do this at least PARTLY to grant herself free moments to write her own poetry...and to live a sexual life? Was she living her life in the only way she could...walking a balance between her need to stoke her own creative fires and her undeniably tremendous love for her daughters? How much did Cora's own artistic temperament affect the course of her motherhood? How much did HER experiences with motherhood and creativity ultimately affect Edna's stance?

Cora certainly did have both her own artistic temperament to deal with and her own plentiful supply of charisma. Even after Edna was famous, some of her friends commented about Cora, the "remarkable old lady" and her powerful personality. Like her daughter, Cora never accepted the strictures of her era regarding motherhood, responsibility or sex. At the same time she passed on to her daughters her passion for poetry, literature and survival during their earliest years. She also passed on her heaviest dose of personal magnetism to her oldest girl, Edna.

The charisma of Cora was so strong that her little girls eased their way through onerous tasks by reminding themselves they were doing the job "for mama." Like her mother, the charisma of Edna was also so strong that Eugen endured her peccadilloes for the honor of her "esteem." Like mother, like daughter? I wonder, did Cora consciously try to weave her web of pressure and guilt...or was her personality, like Edna's, so magnetic that she couldn't avoid being the target of idolization and competition among her daughters?

Cora loved with passion, was selfish with passion, made horrific mistakes with passion,... and was intensely protective of ALL her daughters with passion. Her daughters alternately fought with each other for her regard, and ignored her at other times. Edna was capable of rejecting Cora for periods of time, but she NEEDED the knowledge that her mother was somewhere in the background, available to her when necessary.

When Cora died, a source of love and security, as well as manipulation and guilt, passed out of Edna's life and left a huge void. I feel Cora can only be fairly evaluated through the filter of her OWN creative personality, and the peculiarities it produced.

Harriet

Now we have come to a point that I dont understand. That is the drugging that seems to h ave occured in Ednas life. I know all of the information on special people, but the drugging leads me into the self indulgence of a life that had been interesting. How sad that she seems to have believed that she could do as she pleased and never suffer the results of drugs. If she had been a bit more disciplined, she could have lived longer and better. The last part of this book made me so sad.. I hate waste and that is what she did with the last of her life.

Edna complained of chronic pain and at that time many of the drugs used for pain relief were very addictive. In fact in modern days many of the drugs used for a variety of reasons can be addictive. If the drug itself is not addictive then the fear of what may happen if one stops keeps patients taking it. I had many friends who were prescribed tranquilizers when they first came out and were so afraid of how they would feel if they stopped continued to take them for years and since as with most drugs the longer you take them the more of them you need to take.

My husband was addicted to aspririn and caffeine ...that seems simple enough but he relied on aspirin for every ache and pain and for the caffeine to keep him awake and productive, When he was 50 he ended up in a hospital with abdominal bleeding due to the aspirin and caffeine irritating the lining of his stomach...he needed four transfusions and never took aspirin or drank anything but decafe coffee.

I resist taking any drugs unless I can be absolutely sure I need them..Where did Edna get the drugs..? I see no suggestion she was buying them illegaly ? Did I miss something? A number of my friends who had surgery when we were in our teens or just beyond became addicted to sleeping pills since they routinely gave them when you were hospitalized...I always refused them and believe me it wasnt easy to do that...

Nor was it easy for my friends to get over the use of the sleeping pills. ...How many people still smoke in spite of warnings and how many says they cant stop even when they have been diagnosed and treated for lung cancer...We are also speaking of the ROARING TWENTIES when many people with money used cocaine...AS humans we are all addicted to some things I bet ..food, medicine, bad habits ...etc ...and there seems to me a suggestion that Edna hoped to overcome her need for the drugs she used....anna

BETTY - WELCOME TO OUR GROUP!
MOUNTAINGAL does not have the book and we believe there are a few lurkers; consequently we have summarized what is happening to the Millay family at times. Also for that reason we have typed in several of Edna's poems.

HARRIET - I agree with everything you said about Cora, particularly this statement: "Like her daughter, Cora never accepted the strictures of her era regarding motherhood, responsibility or sex. At the same time she passed on to her daughters her passion for poetry, literature and survival during their earliest years."

In an interview shortly after her mother's death, Edna said that her mother was responsible for giving her poetry and that her mother would write after the children had been "tucked in bed" (first mention we have had of this!) but published few of them.

Perhaps we passed too lightly over Cora's death; it was sometime later that Edna did attempt to write of her in several poems that were drafted but never published until 1934 when she published six poems about her mother - one titled "Valentine" - that being the actual date of her mother's burial at Steepletop - is quoted on page 340 - the beginning lines:

"Oh, what a shining town were Death
Woke you therein, and drew your breath
My buried love….

In 1934, at the height of the great depression, Millay was very successful with her reading tours and publications and making good money; however, as one progresses in Part Eight I begin to suspect that there is a feeling in the public eye and in reviews that Edna's light is beginning to dim, she no longer resides in the era of women's rebellion (they had already received the vote in 1920) and it has been accepted by society that women can smoke in public; there is no longer a cause for rebellion or revolution and yet Millay represented those things. She is passe, in other words.

I must go review this Part again and then I can speak more factually about the drug situation!

Back later! E.g.

In 1939, Edna went into a hospital in New York and was under the care of a Dr. Connie Guion, a highly respected doctor, for three weeks and during this time the doctor continued to prescribe morphine; she obviously knew it was wrong as she wrote in a letter to Eugen - "I did not wish to have any discussion by the house officers of the amount of morphine she was taking. To avoid this I signed for it daily and personally ordered the drug."

However, ANNA, that does not explain where she originally obtained it as she was on the drug when she entered the hospital; I would imagine if you had the money to get it, you could in those days! What am I saying - you can get them today! Probably worse drugs that that and get them on the street. I had a friend years ago who took all kinds of "street drugs" - to go to sleep, to stay awake, to lose weight! She would hide the drugs from her husband and I was appalled when she told me she could find these drugs in any city she was in! Wouldn't that be frightening if you attempted to and didn't know how to go about it?

With my luck, I would ask the first undercover cop I saw and be in jail by morning!

But leaving aside the drugs for a moment I just wanted to comment on the view in the public eye of Edna's aging (she's far younger at this point than many of us - well, at least myself who is 74, albeit a young 74, haha, but then I'm not on illegal drugs either). It's both sad and funny how at times the press would skewer her words around - a reporter, in an interview, noted that she had grown up and she replied - "I'm 42, just mention it once in your story and then, please forget it."

The next day in boldface, the headline read, "Poetic Strife Begins at 42 for Edna St. Vincent Millay."

George - dear, sweet, young George - lover and friend was beginning to see Edna in a new light also; here's a poem he wrote of her:

Finding her body woven
As if of flame and snow
I thought, however often
My pulses cease to go,
Whipped by whatever pain
Age or disease appoint,
I shall not be again
So jarred in every joint,
So mute, amazed, and taut
And winded of my breath-
Beauty being at my throat
More savagely than death.

His pulses cease to go - he shall not be jarred again! I hope Edna never saw that poem!

We never thought about being old at 42 - that was not a concern then, was it?

As STEPHANIE said, what a waste!

Can you point to a time in Edna Millay's life when she was truly happy (according to your definition of happiness)? Is an artist destined to be unhappy?

Perhaps only when she was absorbed in her writing...I think her saying her mother wrote after they were safely tucked into bed ..was her fantasy. There is no doubt Cora encouraged her children to read and think and put those thoughts into words...

Edna created herself and I can see as she looked into the mirror ..not only the mirror in her home but the mirror in the eyes of her former admirers she saw she was aging...and that must have been the ultimate pain.

Drugs! I only know I remember reading that cocaine was used extensively in the 20's and I would suppose the use of drugs were considered "IN" and once you start I would think it would be hard to stop. Even if her pain was not as severe as she felt it was she did not want to feel it.

When I think of the descriptions of her drinking, smoking and using drugs I see a life wasted but a talent preserved. Too bad she couldnt have it all .

Ah me...it is hard to believe we have covered so much ...and soon we will have to say goodbye to this study. anna

I've just finished rereading the final segments of our book, and I find myself overwhelmed by emotions. I've been trying to figure out the source, but too many personal associations have been triggered by Edna's many problems.

Kathleen always followed in Edna's footsteps, a paler copy of Edna, always a little less as a person and a poet. Surely, anyone who has ever had a tangled relationship with a sibling, and yet loved deeply underneath the complex knots of everyday events must mourn for those two sisters. In the end, Kathleen developed a madness in which she felt Edna had stolen her poetry from her, and her life as well. I found myself replaying family arguments with my own siblings as I read the book, and I'm so glad that we're all still alive and able to communicate with each other!

I was overwhelmed by Edna's cycle of physical pain...which led to addiction...which led to emotional pain along with the physical pain...which led to unreasonably controlling behavior from Eugen. Eugen became a kind of monster at the height of Edna's addictions. Toward the end Edna was both afraid of her husband and dependent on him at the same time.

How much of her illness was psychological? Could Eugen have stopped being a tyrant at some point? When I read of Edna's petulant, infantile behavior and lack of cooperation while in the hospital, I wonder that Eugen managed to keep her safe at all, regardless of the methods he used.

more later.

Harriet

Was Edna happy when she was absorbed in her writing, ANNA? When she couldn't get it quite right and had to re-write and re-write? I'm confused. I thought creativity was the source of her troubled life - the inability to lead a normal life; here I should go back and read MOUNTAINGAL's statements about the creative person, but that is the impression I received.

Certainly her contacts with others, siblings, lovers, friends (all male it seems to me), did not bring her any happiness.

Hi Harriet! Sibling rivalry. How sad for Kathleen and Edna, who were close in childhood, to end their lives in bitterness toward each other. Who to blame for this - Kathleen? Her jealousy knew no bounds and it seems Edna tried to maintain their relationship by giving money and more money when requested, but there was an end to her ability as her own money dwindled.

WHERE IS BRUMIE - STEPHANIE - MOUNTAINGAL? We are missing you.

BETTY, as we are drawing closer to the end of our discussion do you have remarks to make?

Having just re-read MOUNTAINGAL's Post #255, it is hard to believe that a creative person can lead a happy life, so many that we have read about, famous authors and artists, have led destructive lives. Wherein lies happiness; if not that, contentment; if not that, what?

Betty, I'm so glad that you're here. What a marathon job you did of reading all of those posts! Thank you so much.

What an interesting idea that the concept of beauty could encompass many different forms of love! That thought certainly lends a new dimension to the line "I am waylaid by beauty..." If I carry your concept one step further, the title of the book, Savage Beauty achieves a double meaning. The simplest interpretation would be that a self-absorbed Edna was brutal to others and left broken hearts behind her. The second thought might be that the pursuit of beauty, both aesthetic and physical, proved to be a savage master in Edna's own life, causing her much grief as well as sweetness.

I thought your point concerning Edna's ambivalence about love was very perceptive. I wonder if maybe that ambivalence might even apply to her family relationships as well as her lovers. At the end of her life, Edna kept a photo of her two sisters hugging each other, on her night table. Yet, she never let them into her life in her final years. She allowed Eugen to write to them FOR her and she seldom saw them.

Kathleen was probably emotionally ill at that point and making deranged accusations against Edna...but Norma was merely a bossy sister who loved Edna very well. I believe Edna loved in return, but didn't have the will or the energy to invest in family relationships. I think she was certainly emotionally "off" herself during this time. Interesting that the book doesn't reveal if either Edna or Norma attended Kathleen's funeral.

Ella, I also wondered where Edna found her drugs. I agree that someone would have to know their way around a drug scene to get supplies wihout being arrested. Edna seemed so helpless in her addiction. Surely she required outside help?

Anna, well said on your comment:

When I think of the descriptions of her drinking, smoking and using drugs I see a life wasted but a talent preserved. Too bad she couldn't have it all.

Reading about someones decline and death is an emotionally draining experience, Stephanie. The sobering thing is that there's a kind of universality about the end of this book. Even if the specifics are different, if we live long enough, life has a way of doing things to people.

I guess growing old isn't for sissies!

Harriet

Hi Ella, I think we posted together.

Later...

Harriet

Creativity is what brings your greatest pain AND your greatest happiness. So I think I may have been misunderstood. When a creative person is in the process of creating it is almost like a sexual release except that it is a MENTAL release, whereas sexuality is a physical release. But the rest of your life is spend looking to get to the point where everything comes together to have that creative mental release---and that's the hard and difficult part, the arriving at that point. Once a creative person is actually working, it doesn't matter how many times she has to rewrite or repaint, because it's like a fever and actually the ONLY time an artist is truly happy because they are totally focused on their particular art. The rest of life serves only as a means to get to that point of being able to work at the creative effort. And the greatest unhappiness is when, for some reason a creative person runs dry, or they are unable to create anymore because of physical limitations, such as loosing eyesight would be for a painter. I'm wondering if her drug addiction was as a result of a desperation she felt at the loss of creativity, the fear of maybe running dry. For the creative personality there is at that point no more reason to live unless they find some sort of substitute.

Edna may have run dry, became ill and addicted and very difficult because of that frustration, and that may be what she felt and had no idea how to deal with it since her whole identity was tied up in that. I think at that point Eugen could have been more helpful, and maybe could have persuaded her that there were other important roles to play in life. But I look at her sort of like a lost child who has lost the meaning of her life and at that point everything disintigrates for her. Today we have more psychological knowledge about all of that, and we can prepare for the time when we run dry as artists, but in Edna's time there was very little insight into all of that. Also, in order to deal with that creative dryness, when it comes, a person MUST have a spiritual dimension. If that is missing I don't think anything can really save them. Spirituality is something OUTSIDE the ego that a person can cling to. I don't know if Edna had that. Her poetry sounds as though it was there, but in her normal every-day life it may have been covered up and well hidden by her ego and her fame.

As for the drugs, there was NO so-called "war on drugs" during that time. Most drugs were new and looked at as miraculous. I don't think people considered addiction to them the way we do now. Even cocaine was legal and many artistic and wealthy people used cocaine. Morphine was fairly new and a god-sent for pain. You could buy over-the-counter addictive medications because the whole society looked at them as useful and NOT detrimental. Doctors might have had some insight even back then, but the population in general did not. I remember my mother having gallbladder attacks and being given shots of morphine to ease the pain because right after the war there was not enough anesthetic to go around in order to do a surgery, so her pain was eased with morphine until they could get her to the operating room. No one thought anything of it except that it was a great relief and a wonderful thing.

Anyhow, however Edna's life deteriorated and ended, when I read her poetry about nature (her love poems have no effect on me at all) I feel that the world is richer because of her poetry, just like the world is richer for Mozart having lived and created his music. It doesn't matter to me how the rest of their lives were spent, because I feel that during their creative moments they gave the world treasures that a thousand ordinary lifetimes of another person could not have created, and that makes all the pain worthwhile, and makes their lives worthwhile even when whole parts of it are spent in confusion and disintigration. So I see no waste there at all; only gifts that were given.

I am glad you mentioned the legality of drugs then,...even years ago paregoric was legal and could be bought over the counter WITHOUT a prescription and it was tincture of opium...There was a drink my husband brought home from Greece? Turkey ? I no longer know it was called RAKI I think and it had opium in it ..

We had some Turkish officers, who were in the States for the government years ago , over to our house for dinner and they brought us a bottle and they told us it was used to help crying babies sleep. My husband made a joke by saying I guess that is where RAKI by baby comes from...but paregoric was used for colic and cranky babies. In fact I can remember a doctor telling me to use a small amount when my ulcer acted up.

So drugs that you cant obtain now except by prescription were available when Edna was young.

I agree with you on her Nature poems for they were the ones that hooked me as a young person...and her talent was never wasted. I see your point of view but also see her life could have been better if drugs and alcohol had not played such an important part. But then would she have been EDNA ST VINCENT MILLAY?

anna

Thanks to both of you - all of you - Harriet, Mountaingal and Anna - for your posts. I can't tell you how much I have learned from all of you and your wonderful insights into creativity; you have been an inspiration - so much so, that I just enrolled in a free Barnes & Noble University course on POETRY!

Imagine that! The one here that said often she didn't have anything to say about poetry because she couldn't understand it! Perhaps later, in another discussion, if we do another discussion on a poet, I will astound you all with my new knowledge! Hahaha - that'll be the day!

Paregoric - (spelled right?) - I remember that. I think it was rubbed on children's gums when they were teething? Perhaps I'm mistaking for something else, but I have heard of the drug and, you are right, ANNA, we could buy it! I know my neighbor rubbed whiskey on her children's gums when they were crying from the pain of teething! I lost track of her but wonder if her children grew up to be alcoholics - I doubt it.

Okay, who is going to enroll with me at Barnes & Noble poetry course? I know ANNA has already I think - is that correct, Anna?

We'll have fun together, let's do it!! They wouldn't let me use so many nicknames that I tried, that finally in disgust I typed in - Cheeryoaf - and now am not sure if I spelled it that way or not, but if you see something similar to that you'll know it was me.

I doubt that I will post much, however, but I'm bound to learn something.

Wonder if I can get those 2 books at the Library?

BETTY - if you come by this way again, I have been meaning to ask you if Nancy Milford's book, "ZELDA", was as good as this or better? She must like writing about troubled women of the '20's. Do you know anything about her?

In reading about her on the jacket, I see the book was a finalist for the Pulitizer Prize. Would you recommend we discuss the book? If so, is anyone here interested?

I am so glad you are taking the understanding poetry class through Barnes and Noble. My name is fairanna there and I have to tell you Ginny laughed when I told her why.

My original screen name now nearly 8 years ago was ALANBO...which was a combination of Al for Alexander, An for anna and BO for bob my husbands name He created it and we had a brass marker on our front door that said the same and our license tags were ALANBO and ALANBO1

When I was in the chat room I was often mistaken for ALAN and while visiting in California I was chatting as ALANBO and someone who noted another chatter and I were agreeing on so much suggested we get married..Where upon all of my friends said THAT IS IT ANNA YOU HAVE TO CHANGE YOUR SCREEN NAME>.someone suggested fairanna but it was already taken so I turned it around and became annafair..which also caused problems since males often thought what I meant was AN AFFAIR ..SO since I will be with a new group in the Barnes and Noble study I decided to be fairanna ...

Now you know who to look for ..and I will try and find YOU ...anna

Forgot to say I would enjoy discussing Zelda as long as YOU Ella and Harriet are leaders. anna

can't remember most of it. All I remember from the book is that she got the usual short shrift that women tend to get from the famous men that were included in her and F. Scott's social life and that she eventually went crazy. Anyhow, here is an interesting site with information about her and some of her paintings: http://www.poprocks.com/zelda.htm

Also watched a movie about Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas yesterday. Very odd people to say the least, but I think they lived in France because their lesbian sexuality was more acceptable or ignored there. I've never read anything by Stein so have no opinion about her, but it was about the same era, between the two world wars, in which they lived.

Nice discussion with all of you lovely ladies. It's been VERY interesting and enlightening. Thank you so much!

head>

I'm here - been lurking.  I'm also behind in my reading.  On my first reading of Cora's poem Pg. 322 I understood its meaning felt there was something wrong with Cora. 

I think Edna seemed happy/contented on pg. 266 "Vincent lies curled against Eugen's naked chest in the prow of their small boat, her dark straw bonnet in her lap; his sarong is slung low around his hips; they smile into the bright sunshine, a line of hills rising just beyond his shoulders as they sail the Yellow Sea."

Everyone's post is very informative and I'm learning a lot (bunches) from each of you.

Brumie

Hey, MOUNTAINGAL, don't go away yet, there is still a bit more to talk about and I, too, have read different books about Zelda and Scott and their lives. Not one written by Nancy Milford, however. And France has always been more liberal - always will be. It's where the action was/is for many young people, no matter what their sexual mores were/are or their color.

I've never read anything written by or about Stein or Toklas either, but certainly there have been references to them in reading and conversation. We should learn!!!

BRUMIE! I like what you are doing with your colors and I think you are learning some new things with HTML, aren't you? Being clever, I see, but isn't it fun to learn new things.

It's only the 23rd of March, we can keep going here until the end of the month, but catch up, do! Yes, I went back to the poem on page 322 that Cora wrote and these lines seem prophetic somehow: "My little Mountain-Laurel-trees, If you should ever grow, Where I was very sound asleep, I think that I should know."

Not long after that, of course, Cora died.

later, e.g.

I think that the diary Edna kept proved to me that she knew and worried about the extent of her addiction. I also believe that part of Ednas problems stemmed from a deep belief that she was different or special and very sensitive compared to most people. I have had two very dear friends in my life who are considered to be creative in very special ways. Neither of them seemed to have the sort of temperment that Mountain Gal describes. One writes and the other paints. Both are well paid for their efforts and medium famous, but both lives relatively normal and happy lives. No thin skin.. no mysterious illnesses. I think that there are people in the world who use this creativity to grab an area and make themselves known as too sensitive, etc. I guess what I am trying to say, is that Edna disappoints me in the end. I love the poetry ( the love stuff compared to the nature stuff),but was not happy about her as a person. Guess I regret learning more about Edna. Would have preferred her to be a stronger more durable person.

In some ways this is a Romeo and Juliet story ...they each loved the other and I think Edna did love Eugen...he allowed her great freedom even when we see he was treating her like a child.

And as a child she herself had to be capable looking after her two sisters. So it wasnt that she couldnt do it or didnt know how I think she was just so glad to have someone treat her as a child. Perhaps to make up for her own missed childhood.

Even though I peeked at the ending early it still saddened me to reach the end and see it hadnt changed. How does that song go? We are poor little lambs who have lost our way ? that is how I see most of the characters that peopled Edna and Eugen's life. Her mother, her sisters, many of her friends, even her father. They were lost..

BUT we have a wealth of her poetry and her accomplishments. When we read how artists, poets, musicians. etc live for the most part they are lost lambs as well. At least for Edna she did have recognition in her lifetime...so many only reach it posthumously...

It is strange this is not a book I would have chosen to read but it is one that I have enjoyed and the comments of you have participated have made every day a joy ...anna

I do believe, Betty, that where emotional ailments are concerned, sometimes nothing is necessarily as simple as it looks on the surface.

Certain types of depression seem to carry along with it multiple physical symptoms...stomach, back, spine, headaches et al. The problem is that in some cases, no one, neither doctors, caretakers, nor even the patient him/herself seems to be able to distinguish the exact line of demarcation between the physically induced symptoms and the emotional. Maybe, in some sensitive personalities, that demarcation line slides so seamlessly between the physical and emotional that it can't be found.

In a creative person like Edna, who needs to buffer her perceptive psyche from the intrusions of too much reality as well as the assaults of marvelous things like beauty...it would be a miracle if anyone, including herself, could make a definitive diagnosis of her physical condition. However, it occurred to me as I read certain sections of the book that if ALL of her long-range symptoms had a physical basis, why Edna would have to be dead!

Yet, you're absolutely right, Betty. Too many real symptoms are treated dismissively. That puts a caretaker like Eugen in a very precarious position. If anyone loves a person who functions like this, the only responsible way of handling it is to medically investigate most or all symptoms. The great fear for a caretaker would be the possibility of "missing" the pain that may actually be THE clue to a serious illness. It could be lost in the general malaise.

Believe me, I have the most profound sympathy for Eugen.

At first Eugen's caretaking job was easy. Medical tests diagnosed and treated Edna's intestinal obstruction. But when that was gone, illness after illness of unknown origin still kept her a protected invalid. And Eugen's job got harder as she used more and more medications and liquor to soothe the path between herself and her various pains. The poor soul apparently had a heightened perception of pain, so that even a sprain or scratch could only be helped with a narcotic. Did she become addicted because of her extreme sensitivity to ANY pain, physical or emotional?

An idea of what Eugen was coping with at home in the later period of their marriage can be found on pp. 479-480, where some nurses from Doctor's Hospital recorded Edna's behavior on a medical chart...from her pains that shifted location spontaneously...to her frantic terror and nerves in the face of her symptoms. Medical professionals were having problems getting her cooperation in a hospital environment. How did Eugen deal with all the crises alone at home?! How sad!

I think Eugen shifted into overdrive, trying to protect her from further overstimulation. He merely succeeded in scaring her witless. Pp. 480 - 481. For a time, in the face of Edna's unreasonable, terrified inability to cope, Eugen was, temporarily, a monster...but as you pointed out, WHAT ELSE COULD THE POOR GUY DO? He wasn't so healthy himself.

Eugen's big contribution was that he always regarded Edna as a creative genius. Through his eyes, even when she was afraid of his over-control, Edna was a human being with value. If she had been left in the hands of impartial nurses who saw her merely as a management problem and exerted more prosaic controls over her, any remaining destiny as an artist might have been thwarted.

By the way, Edna might not have died when she did if Eugen had been alive. I don't doubt that amidst all her bright strength and efforts at renewal, there were still black periods with nerves and wine. If that was her condition on the night of her fall, Eugen's hand on her shoulder might have changed the course of events. There was no record of an autopsy to determine any substances she might have been using.

How moving the lines she had written in the notebook beneath her body!

I will control myself, or go inside.
I will not flaw perfection with my grief.
Handsome, this day: no matter who has died.


Harriet

there are talented people who seem to live very regular lives. It is all a matter of degree. Also I do agree with you that sometimes creative people use their "moods" to get away with things in order to be different. I sort of noticed that when I watched the movie about Gertrude Stein. She was a writer, she was famous, but she was not a really creative, innovative artist to my knowledge, nor was her output very prolific, but she used her role as a "writer" to live her life unboxed. Nothing wrong with that as long as no one is harmed in the process. Again, it's a circular sort of thing. I'm an artist and my life is fairly regular and normal too, but I know I'm not a genius either.
However, that is not true for the majority of truly creative people. They are different because they have to be. It's one thing also to be technically proficient in your creative field (I can sit down and do a technically perfect painting at any time, no matter what mood I'm in) but it's quite another to be truly creative and innovative, and what the world in retrospect calls "genius" (fame has nothing to do with it!). You will find those are the people that most often had the very difficult lives, being driven to do whatever they needed to do in order to create their art, even when their lives became a tagedy.


On that note I also want to say that I frequently use my own role as "artist" to do what I want because society accepts it and lets you get away with it. They expect an artist to be somewhat eccentric. But I do it very consciously and very deliberately to have my way about such things as not having to socialize when I don't want to, the way I dress, the way I spend my time, the fact that I don't have a clock or watch TV, the fact that I may be up all night and sleep all day, or the fact that I have my own view of spirituality that has nothing to do with "church", and all the other little social boxes that people put you in. As an artist they do give you much more leeway without getting upset with you, so why not use it to my advantage since there's no harm in it? That is, as long as I keep control and know exactly what I'm doing and why, instead of the subconsciousness running my life.


I also believe the only way we can really tell "genius" is in retrospect. When you look at Salieri and Mozart for instance, Salieri was considered the better composer in his own time, but in retrospect we KNOW ABSOLUTELY that it was Mozart who was the genius, and his life was also a tragedy.

Just caught you, Stephanie, Anna, and MountainGal, when I posted.

Later...

Harriet

besides being an artist, for the last 30 years I have transcribed medical reports and the stories that have crossed my desk in that time are mind boggling. Even with all the medical knowledge we have available to us and the diagnostic equipment. there are soooooooo many illnessess we have no idea about. We don't know where they come from and we don't know how to treat them. All the arthritic problems belong into that group, the polymyalgias and arthralgias, the fibromyalgia syndrome, the blood sugar problems, the neurologic problems we don't even have names for, chronic fatigue syndrome, etc., etc., Any one of them might have been Edna's problem, or it may simply have been an over-sensitivity which some people show even with their bodies in the allergies and other symptoms they have. Sometimes as I am typing report after report, I often think that, contrary to what we believe, medicine is actually still in the dark ages. Almost none of the chronic illnesses are anything a doctor can do anything about at all. They may be able to alleviate some symptoms with drugs, but that's about it. And in Edna's day there was even less knowledge. All I can say is if Eugen hung in with her through it all, he loved her more than we can guess at, and she at least had that. And when you have love, whether your recognize it or not, your life is not as tragic as those people who never have love at all.

look at the symptoms that Mozart had just before he died, they suspect he died of a kidney disease called Bright's disease (quite rare), and there is a supsicion that VanGogh may have had lead poisoning from the paint pigments he used (he used to lick his brushes in his frantic need to get his ideas down on canvas), and if Edna had a bowel obstruction, these days we know there are all kinds of things she could have had, such as Crohn's disease or even ulcerative colitis which can make a person absolutely miserable. These days we also know about manic depressive illness, which runs in families and is often associated with genius because the lines between genius and illness can be very vague. There have been enough studies done on this to come up with a definite link. So it's sort of interesting to speculate about what was going on, but I also suspect her complaints were legitimate.

I sure agree with what you just said about the value of a loving relationship, MountainGal, and also with Anna's image of Edna and Eugen as a Romeo and Juliet story. Despite all their craziness they loved each other, and were even good for each other.

You're both right, Betty and MountainGal, that I can't pronounce with any certainty what Edna's problems were, but you sure caught my essential drift...that Eugen had a tough, tough job, and must have loved her a lot. Edna must have been very difficult to deal with at the height of her problems.

Medical knowledge IS vague in some areas, and the lines between the physical and emotional are even harder to distinguish. I wish everyone in the whole world could have the good fortune to be more durable in personality... including myself. I do feel sympathetic to Edna and I feel this book has been and is a wonderful experience for me. I've been very moved by both the prose and poetry.

It is such a joy to speak to you all. I feel I am learning so much from hearing all your points of view. What a wonderful mix of attractive personalities you all are! What fun to be here!

Harriet

with discussing this book, but I just realized another analogy that I think I need to make about the way a creative genius works. As I said, there is a huge difference between technical proficiency and true creative effort. The best way I can think of to describe the urgency is to ask any of you if you keep a record of your dreams. Now we all know that in order to do that you have to write it all down AS SOON AS you wake up, because otherwise most of the time the dream will become vague and eventually get lost. That means you can't have any distractions or interruptions, or people needing things from you. It must be done right now before it escapes you. That is the way true creative effort works. You have something in your mind that is like a dream, and while it is at its strongest, you need absolutely to get that down on paper, in either paint or words or notes, because if you don't---it is so elusive that it will be gone---and it will more than likely never return in the same way. These "creative moments" can come to an artist at ANY TIME, and the moment they arise in the mind the work has to be done or it will be lost. That is the urgency, the reason for needing time apart and time alone.
On the other hand, if I want to create something that is merely "technically proficient" such as I have been doing with the botanical paintings of wildflowers in my area, I can do that at any time because all I have to do is sit down and look at the flower and copy what I see. These paintings are still beautiful, and most people looking at them don't know the difference between technical proficiency and a GREAT painting, so it makes no difference to me because I'm enjoying myself. But they are not GREAT paintings, such as a vanGogh with those incredibly swirling outrageous colors, or a Picasso where he tried the cubist forms to experiment with 3-dimensionality and movement on a flat canvas, or a Monet where he tried to actually catch light on canvas, or with a David Hockney who does wonderful things these days with photography and computer art, or a Michaelangelo who painted the Sistine chapel in such a way that when looking up at it from a long way below, all the perspectives are correct.


I have to say that once upon a time when I was young and naive I thought I could also be such a genius, but as I became older I also became wiser, and realized that true genius was left only to the very few, and that no matter how difficult they are, we must treasure them. And so I have also learned that to accept my own peculiar limitations is OK, and that I can be happy working within those limitations because it's God's plan for ME. But knowing the difference is important to me. It's like a fine wine. Once you have tasted a truly great Lafitte Rothchild, you can never go back and say that the wine you buy off the grocery store shelf is as good. It may be acceptable, and you can enjoy it for what it is, but it is NOT a Lafitte. Sometimes I think in our American sameness and search for equality we insist tht everything is OK and acceptable----and it is---but there are distinctions, and to just say one thing is as good as another is simply not so. That kind of thinking turns everything into blandness and sameness and makes it boring. And even though I dislike most critics and most often disagree with them, I see the need for them in a society, the function of sorting through everything that is created in order to try and come up with the best. Of course, in the end only history can really do that because we are all too close and can't see the forest for the trees, including the critics.

WHAT A DELIGHT TO CLICK ON OUR DISCUSSION THIS AFTERNOON AND READ 11 posts by such literate, intelligent folk! It's just "too marvelous - too marvelous for words." So I'll not say much, what can I possibly add!

Just a couple of notes - BETTY! I had checked that passage in the book where a visitor sees Vincent "doing it" and was puzzled at what it was; perhaps taking some sort of visual medicine - some dope of some sort? We'll never know, of course.

As for discussing ZELDA, perhaps we might do that in the future sometime; I'm a little tired of the mad maidens of the troubling twenties and need a change from them - exactly why I have scheduled the book SEABISCUIT for May - about a famous horse! Come join in all of you, would love to have you.

STEPHANIE, I think you are on the mark when you stated Edna's diary was kept to remind her of her drug doses and perhaps to attempt to cut back on her addictive habits. She surely knew how deep she was getting into mind-altering drugs. Didn't she also, in the midst of being drugged, try to make New Year's Resolutions about what she should do and not do (can't remember where it was - after Eugen's death?) The poor thing, it was far too late.

However, I do want to bring to your attention that she did write one last poem before she died - it was for the Saturday Evening Post and during the Korean War; Milford indicates these first two lines as Edna's anxieties about the war; however they could have been her own dreary, weary soul speaking:

Hard, hard it is, this anxious autumn,
To lift the heavy mind from its dark forebodings.

As for the creativity I see you discussing, I have none at all - I'm such a dunce where the creative arts are concerned, so I shall just "shut my mouth" and learn from you!!!! You are all too much!!!!

DO CARRY ON - it's such a pleasure to read your discussion of artists of every genre and your own lives and experiments in the arts!

Back later …..

I too went back this afternoon and re read that part ..after doing so several times and thinking of her addiction I felt what she did was use a needle to give herself a shot. the preceding lines indicated she was very nervous and uptight and immediately went to bed as soon as she "did it"

taking a glass of something would not produce the same term in my opinion ...IMHO anna

I feel the same way, Betty.

Also, through the help of all of you, I came to better understand the brilliant, mercurial strong/fragile essence of Edna St. Vincent Millay. Genius is a rare commodity and should be treasured, if we are wise enough to recognize it when we see it.

MountainGal, your input about creativity has been marvelous.

Harriet

ANNA - yes, yes, you must be right about Edna giving herself a shot in front of the visitor. That would shock the visitor and remain with her years later.

In a lighter vein - I was looking at the pictures this morning - the last ones on pages following #398. Edna and Eugen look so happy, they are having so much fun - young and gay (still a perfectly good word, don't you agree?)

And the men wearing hats - I love men in hats - JFK is to blame for the fact that men quit wearing them. The old movies show all the men in hats. I loved hats myself when I was young - hats and heels. Not for me the Roaring Twenties - it was the "Flaming Fifties" - hahaha

Lovely portraits of Kathleen and George Dillon, don't you think? And poor Cora looking so old and cranky. She must have hated those pictures. I tear up pictures of me and throw most of them away, who wants to be remembered looking like that.

back later - eg

Before we close up shop here, I wanted to quote this portion of a letter from Emund Wilson to Norma which says it all and says it so well:

"It seems to me that what happened to Edna was as dreadful as what happened to Scott Fitzgerald- though she had more character and more genius. Of course she always pulled herself together…but I don't think you ought to try-as people's familites so often do-to suppress the tragic aspects because they might be painful or shocking to Edna's more conventional admirers. Her poetry is not the work of a being for whom life could ever have been easy or gone along at a comfortable level. It will always give the lie to any too respectful biography…..but it will also always be there to make the casualties of her life seem unimportant."

As all of you have said her poetry will always be there; now has this been a "respectful biography?"

We will keep this discussion open for as long as anyone cares to comment.

BRUMIE - how are you doing with the reading? Come on in and post away, Harriet and I will be here to listen! Guaranteed!

It would seem to me an honest biography. It certainly didnt hide her warts and I am not sure it made as many apologies as we did as readers.

There was no real bashing and no hiding her many flaws...in the long run the consensus seems to be from all the posters. Her accomplishments were many and have lasted and will endure. We can enjoy them and ignore whatever she did. In the final analysis she proved to be very human and I am not sure I would want my life to be so exposed.

loved every minute of it ...and everyone was absolutely wonderful This was a conversation that brightened my hours...I am pleased to have been part of it..anna

You do ask the most intriguing questions. And you know, that is more than half of learning---knowing how to ask the right question.


Anyhow, I don't know if it was a "respectful" biography since I didn't read it. But I think what we need is not necessarily "respectful" but "truth" as far as we can know it. When you get truth you begin to realize that these so-called genius people were just human beings, like all of us, that they made mistakes and misjudgments and were not of the genius variety in all aspects of their lives; and if they could lead their lives with all the difficulties, then so can we. It's a kind of an encouragement. Also, any one human life is so complex and so multi-faceted, that we can never get the "whole and complete truth" because it's impossible. As we read, I think we have to realize that it's mostly all conjecture. Even in an AUTObiography things can be mostly conjecture because the writer may "think" he/she knows what motivated him, but really didn't at all. So it has to be respected for what it is, a partial picture of someone's life, a little peek in the door of a life of which we will never know the ALL.


But I've often wondered how future biographers are going to be able to write biographies. These days people pick up the telephone or use the computer to communicate, and most of that communication is forever lost in time and space and can't be retrieved. Very few people write letters anymore from which we could often get an accurate look into their thought processes. Vincent's letters to his brother Theo come to mind. How much we would have lost about him if he had simply been able to pick up the phone. I suppose there will be other ways of knowing, but those ways will also be only a partial look into someone's life.


I have to say that one of the current trends in our society that I don't like at all, is that adoration we have for fame. Someone may be a good actress, but her personal life may be a shambles; yet there she may be on a talk show being asked about and giving advice about all kinds of things that are totally out of her ken. I consider that "trash talk" and refuse to listen to it. If an actress wishes to talk about acting, I'm willing to listen. If she wants to talk about raising children---well, I'd rather listen to someone who has been there and done that and been successful at it. So in many ways I don't even understand the curiosity we have about the so-called "famous" who are here today and gone tomorrow. On the other hand, someone like Edna, who has lasted and will probably last quite a while longer because of her poetry, is much more interesting. But even there I'm mainly interested in her poetry, her art, not in all the trivial details of her life, because her art transcends the trivia of life and is timeless.

Hi Anna and Mountaingal!

I can't leave yet - I still have a question and it's about the style of writing in which Nancy Milford engaged in while writing this biography. We touched on one aspect that none of us cared for and that was the pulling the reader into an interview she was having with Norma in 1972.

Then, of course, there is the narrative of Edna's life.

And, lastly, there is the author's own opinions which is demonstrated by the following on page 465 as she needlessly and too dramatically for my sensibilities writes:

"Once there were three sisters, and the eldest, who had always been talented, was now rich and famous. The middle sister was as pretty, lighthearted, and lazy as she was without true ambition. But the youngest sister, while gifted….sounded too much like her eldest sister for her own good, and nothing went right for her."

A fairy tale??? That's how it reads to me! Now if she had just ended the tale with - "and they all lived happily ever after" - it would have been a nice story for children.

The following paragraph is not much better. The writing here is not up to par, IMHO:

Now, imagine this scene at Steepletop earlier in their lives. One sister, whose house it was, enters the room like a lion; she tosses her curly red mane, licks the inside of her wrist, draws it carefully over her ears as if it were a paw, and roars. The youngest enters the room like a Model T Ford, batting her eyes like headlights on bright, making a noise like a horn honking. Only one of the three sisters will survive to tell all the stories she knows, and that is the sister who now sits in the room, scooping out Stilton, drinking a scotch and soda while waving an Egyptian cigarette aloft, laughing, singing a snatch of song, and watching. She is the sister who tells the tales: Norma Millay.

If Milford had left out the interview style and her own words and just given us the narrative of Edna, would the book been as good? Just curious.

(Oh, MOUNTAINGAL - I've "got a million of them!") I hope we meet again in another discussion someday, love your style.

ANNA - I know you and I will!!! And soon.

Harriet - come along and answer a couple of questions, and

Brumie - one more time!

Betty - are you gone for good?

my new friends here. My grand opening is now scheduled for June 7th, and my paintings will hang in the gallery for a whole month. After that, during July and August, they will travel to various restaurants in the area. Some of them are already sold, but all the rest will have to be matted, photographed, framed, labeled, wired, and I will have my hands quite full with all the details for a while since there are 65 paintings and more to be done as soon as the blooming begins. They asked if it would be OK to have the newspaper interview me. Can you imagine? Well, I shall just have to take a look at my calendar and see when I can fit it in. Hahaha! Anyhow, wanted to share this. It is something I've waited for most of my life, and now here at the age of 60, I've finally reached that first step---which is really all I ever expected. It will be such a grand adventure!!!


Ella and everyone, I'm sure I'll see you somewhere in other discussions. I have no intention of going anywhere. This has been a lot of fun even though I will likely never read the book. I must agree however, Ella, that the writing style you quoted above leaves a whole lot to be desired. Genius writing it is certainly NOT!

MountainGal, congratulations on your gallery showing. That's marvelous! And some of your paintings have already sold? You're turning your dreams into reality, and I admire you so for it.! Go for it!

Wish I could see one of your paintings. You don't have a photo of a current painting that you could scan and put on the computer? When does the blooming season begin for the flowers and plant life that you paint? Enjoy that productive painting period.

Hope that tons of people come to see your paintings, and most of them choose to buy one. I hope that the reporter gets lyrical over your work when you're interviewed.

Enjoy !!

Be back later with an answer to some of your questions, Ella.

Harriet

p>I believe Nancy Milford wrote Edna's biography very well so much so that I felt like I was living in her (Edna) world.  To me that world was dark and sad.  Still my favorite poem is Renascence probably because she was young (nineteen) when she wrote it (pg. 63). 

I shake my head and say over and over again "how can she write about love when all of her affairs are just for a moment and not the kind of love that is unconditional?"  Do you understand what I'm trying to say?  And by the way you all explained it to me in your post very well.  It still overwhelms me. 

On pg. 508 it reads "In her bedroom at the time of her death there were only two photographs.  One was a snapshot of Norma and Kathleen.....A little boy, dressed as a soldier......He is stocky boy with sad eyes and a mouth turned down like the rim of a cup.  It is signed Eugen Jan Bossievain."  This left me with a feeling of loneness.

All of your posts were wonderful and I felt like I was learning from you all. 

Thanks,

Brumie

 

P.S. Looking forward to seeing you all again in other discussions. You all are great!

Ella, you tickle me. I posted in the last round of posts (about learning so much about poetry, since I know so little) and Harriet and someone else (I think) responded to me..........so I'm still here!

Harriet, I was thinking what an important point you made about the overlapping of physical and mental symptoms of depression. I think your examples included digestive system problems and pain. Sorry if I'm leaving something else out.

That prompts me to add to your words that clinical depression can be diagnosed when ONLY physical symptoms are present. Change in sleeping habits, change in appetite, low energy, headaches.......these can add up to depression with or without a change in mood (speeded up, anxiety or slowed down, low mood, hopelessness, etc.)

Also, chronic substance abuse can exacerbate physical and mental changes. After a while, the circular process of everything can take on a life of its own, almost.

It was Edna's level of physical pain that seemed to me to stand out all by itself........at a level far too great to be "just depression."

---------------------------------------------------

In the hands of a "traditional" biographer, I have a feeling that Millay would have been at great risk for all kinds of standard labeling. I wish I was more knowledgable and better prepared to contrast traditional and feminist treatments of a subject. I marked a few places that were obvious. I have a feeling, though, that so many differences were subtle......such as Milford's involvement of Norma in the process. I can't picture the old style biographer putting up with the mess of working with, around, in spite of Norma. Then, again, I could be wrong about this as an example, but that's what I mean by subtle. Another would be that loose ends sometimes stayed loose, did not have to be artificially squared off, tied up.

But, to the concrete examples. On pg. 205, Milford wrote, "Millay was not unaware that certain men in her life, particularly the literary men who would later leave literary records---Floyd Dell, Edmond Wilson, and John Pearle Bishop among them---found her refusal to continue her affairs with them a stunning rejection. They wrote to her about their desperate hurt and anger; they waylaid her on the street. To a man, they felt that her leaving them meant far more about her inability to be faithful than it did about their need to secure her exclusively for themselves. They talked about her chagrin, even when it was clearly their own; they talked about her promiscuity and her puzzling magnanimity. They failed to acknowledge the pull she felt between the excitement and energy of her sexual life, where she was a sort of brigand who relished the chase, and the difficult, sweet pleasures of her work."

Also, this newer style bends over backward to be balanced and is less about supporting one theory than it is about reporting what is there. Ambiguity is not avoided. Milford does not avoid including Arthur Ficke's stereotyped images in his private journal (pg. 462) when he wrote that Millay's "critical acumen had been swamped by waves of hysterical emotion." Then, he wonders if she is she is "having the menopause." She continues to quote Ficke's journal,

Vincent, especially, made girls feel that passion was clean and beautiful......She appeared at a moment when American youth had need of her....{for} the lesson of beauty that she taught them; for the revolt she expressed was not merely away from a stuffy prison and also toward an open meadow....there was an unmistakable wind of pure dawning in what she did."

I'm having trouble expressing something about all the little places I marked that I didn't agree with Milford. There is a sense throughout, for me, that there is MORE room for disagreement. For the most part, she let direct sources speak for themselves.

I hesitate to say......but I will. I want us to mark this spring 2002 in our memory. We read this book together and I think it will eventually be called a masterpiece in the field of biography. I feel this intuitively because I am certainly not a scholar in this new style of women's ways of writing about women and men. (I know just enough to get into trouble.) The impact is well underway. Biographies are including CONTEXT more than ever.......that is a change directly attributable to male and female feminist writing. There is already a newer way of thinking about lives that were written in the last 10-20 years.......writing about Thomas Jefferson, for example. A new open style of capturing a life, for sure.

Back in a minute to talk of 4 ways to write a woman's life.

Betty

In WRITING A WOMAN'S LIFE, author Carolyn Heilbrun says, "There are 4 ways to write a woman's life. The woman herself may tell it, in what she chooses to call an autobiography. She may tell it in what she may call fiction. A biographer, woman or man, may write the woman's life in what is called a biography. Or, the woman may write her own life in advance of living it, unconsciously, and without recognizing or naming the process.

This is a very small, very powerful book. I recommend it highly. It is my favorite book of all books. Heilbrun identifies "1970 as the beginning of a new period in women's biography because Zelda by Nancy Milford had been published that year. Its significance lay above all in the way it revealed F. Scott Fitzgerald's assumption that he had a right to the life of his wife, Zelda, as an artistic property. She went mad, confined to what Mark Schorer has called her ultimate anonymity---to be storyless. Anonymity, we have long believed, is the proper condition of woman. Only in 1970 were we ready to read not that Zelda had destroyed Fitgerald, but Fitzgerald her: he had usurped her narrative."

Betty

I've been mulling around in my head why Milford used a flashback and personal anecdote technique so often while writing Savage Beauty where Norma Millay was involved. The most obvious answer is that Norma Millay was a living primary source of historical information about her sister, and the two seemed to have spent considerable time together talking about Edna.

When Milford and Norma began their association in the 1970's, Norma was clean out of sisters...not a one left. Norma ensconced Nancy Milford in Edna's bedroom, and served her breakfast as Edna would have preferred it...in bed, where she might do her morning writing if she chose. Milford mentions such an incident early in the book, commenting on the generosity of which Norma was capable.

Norma was a controlling, bossy source of biographical information and the relationship between her and Milford must have been complex, especially if she told Milford the right way to behave as often as she had told Edna, and, in Milford's case, most probably the best way to write about Edna also. By the time the book was published, Norma was dead.

I thought the incidents that are mentioned in the flashbacks seemed to be things that were "off the record." They were composed of informal conversations, interactions between Milford, Norma and Charlie, accumulated during periods when Milford was a houseguest at Steepletop. I doubt that they were part of the notes and personal memories that Norma officially approved for insertion into the book during her lifetime, and maybe Milford couldn't write them as formally researched pieces of information because they were memories that included herself, the author of the biography. There were some flashbacks that Norma might have HATED.

One flashback from p. 381-382. Milford and Charlie are together (at Steepletop?) talking about Eugen's charm and his erratic love/hate relationship toward Norma. Norma enters, and overhearing, she erupts that Charlie "never opened his mouth to defend her against that son of a bitch, Eugen." Then she pinches Charlie hard and stalks out of the room.

Milford, now alone again with the embarrassed Charlie, asks if he can think of one characteristic that ALL the Millay women shared. "Well," Charlie answers tartly, "they're all everlastingly nasty."

Wasn't that a heckuva question to ask a man in the middle of a fight with his wife? Norma might roll over in her grave at that flashback.

Now, I embellished that flashback with the interpretations that raced through MY head after I read it. In actuality, Milford described the incident so dispassionately that it took me a while to figure out that I was hearing a disgruntled husband sounding off to a frequent houseguest about a wife who had just put him down publicly. Charlie's conclusion sounded like an impartial evaluation if I read it quickly.

Was Milford expressing an accurate historical judgement, or her own frustration with Norma? Was that an unfair anecdote to include, after a fight between a husband and wife? Are biographers like Milford only human... unable to resist a juicy quote from a direct source... even when the quote may have originated in a flash of marital emotion?

Harriet

I don't know the answer to your last question for sure, Betty. but Nancy Milford did provide an interesting view of the peculiarities of Norma and how she related to her sisters through her flashbacks.

She also provided an equally informative view of the difficulties of dealing with the living relatives of a poetic legend.

later...

Harriet

HELLO, BETTY! AND HARRIET!

We haven't all left - good, and I am happy to say a few words in parting. It seemed that others have finished the book and ready to move on, but I can talk forever!

In response to this, Harriet "Are biographers like Milford only human... unable to resist a juicy quote from a direct source... even when the quote may have originated in a flash of marital emotion?

Of course they are! Didn't you wonder why it took Milford so long to write this biography? She interviewed Norma in 1972, had all the materials that Norma had given her - and I realize it is an enormous task to straighten it all out and write it - and remember we don't know when Charlie died and many of the other principals in the book - but I believe she waited until everyone she wanted to quote was dead.

In the back of the book are the NOTES for each chapter and I did refer to them occasionally to see where she obtained that information.

BETTY - I'll be waiting to hear more about this biography, anxiously waiting, let us know if you hear something before the rest of us. Put a note in the Library or someplace where we might talk it over.

A few of us are reading "PRIVATE DEMONS" - the biography of Shirley Jackson. See any similarities? Oh, yes!!!

Tonight is the first night of Passover. My son is coming over this evening.

I want to wish everyone a Happy Passover and Happy Easter. I wish the joys of both seasons to everyone.

See you all tomorrow.

Harriet

HAPPY PASSOVER
HAPPY EASTER

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

THANKS TO ALL OF YOU WHO HAVE ENRICHED THIS DISCUSSION BY YOUR PRESENCE. WE HOPE TO SEE YOU SOON IN ANOTHER ONE!

 

                             I'll never find the phrase 
                           That says enough, tells enough 
                           I mean just aren't swell enough
 

                     You're much too much, and just too very very 
                        To ever be, to ever be in the dictionary 
                    And so I'm borrowing a love song from the birds 
                          To tell you that you're marvelous 
                             Too marvelous for words

Ella, I'm smiling as I read your last message. Soooo nice....

I sincerely hope that Milford didn't deliberately delay the publication of the book. At the beginning of Savage Beauty Milford wrote that she tempted Norma Millay toward collaboration with the promise of a percentage of the book profits AFTER publication. It would truly be sad if Milford knowingly deprived her. I'm sure the estate must have benefited, but still...

In an ideal world, I would just assume that the job was time consuming, and Milford took a while to get it together. After all, Norma died in 1986 and this book still didn't see the light of day until 2001, an interval of 15 years. Maybe Milford even took flack from Random House over the delays?

Or maybe she chose to rewrite whole segments of the book when Norma was no longer looking over her shoulder? Hm-m-m. I wonder how long she spent writing Zelda....?

Now that I'm thinking about it, this book was "in the works" for nearly 30 years. It would qualify as a lifetime masterwork passion for Milford, don't you think? I only thought of that perspective just NOW.

Anyway, I may be naive, but that's how I hope it went.

Harriet

Writing a novel ..especially ones that are all in your imagination I think would be far, far easier than writing something based on reality. A biography needs to tell the truth about the subject as much as that is possible and needs a great deal of research. I would think Milford had to rewrite a lot of this book.

I have no idea how one would do that but I think first you would write something based on the facts as you knew them, then carefully flesh it out with what you have discovered from people who knew the subject..either from earlier books or from your own research and from first hand knowledge from those who knew the person.

I think Norma had mixed feelings about this ... I think she wanted to paint Edna in the best light but I think she also wanted her faults exposed. In spite of the obvious closeness of these sisters and the mother there were and I think we can feel that a sense of envy. The expectations that Edna should help financially and resentment when Eugin answered for Edna and said she couldnt help as much as they wanted. I dont believe for a minute Edna didnt know what he was writing ..for I believe he was only expressing her own words..

I would also like to say ..I can eventually leave a good fiction book behind me. I can say I enjoyed it and loved it but seldom would I return to it or give it another thought once I have I have sighed and said well that was a good book.

Biographys are a bit different .. and I feel there will be times in the future when I come across this book, pick it up again and randomly open it to a page. Then I will be caught again by Edna's poetry and the currents and crosscurrents , the ebb and flow of her life and her talent...

Whatever holiday you are celebrating now I sincerely hope it is one marked by good memories. HAPPINESS TO EACH >>>anna