Dories, Gloucester

Dories, Gloucester
Nell Blaine
1963

I would never dare call myself an art critic. I have neither the knowledge of nor the talent for visual art, yet I am an avid admirer of any form of creative expression. The painting above is Dories, Gloucester by Nell Blaine from 1963. I was initially attracted to this painting by it's abstract quality. It is almost as if, if one were to glance nonchalantly, one would miss it. It is only upon closer concentration that one notices the striking colors and meticulously detailed background images, which to me look like faces, watching the dories upon the water. I feel Blaine's use of bold color signifies  movement and life.

If I were to write a poem using this painting as my muse, I would feel compelled and inspired to comment upon the beautiful moments of stationary reflection I feel this painting embodies. The faces I see in the background on the other side of the lake, have their eyes fixed upon the action on the water, signifying the moments in life in which one is forcably inactive in a situation and is reflective upon that which is out of control. The water in this painting serves to represent a power that is unstoppable, but still provides the one of the most beautifully humbling gifts of nature. The water is life itself. The tone of this painting speaks to me as one of positive and pensive reflection.

The Bee Box

Of the “Bee” series, I found “The Arrival of the Bee Box” to be a particularly complex and fascinating poem. I interpreted in three ways: the first being Plath’s attitude toward herself, her work and the thoughts that swarm within her head. The second serving as commentary on gender oppression and her role as a female in society during this period.  The third, remarking upon being a mother.
                The speaker first uses the bees as a metaphor for her racing thoughts and attitude on her mental illness and the box being her body and her mind—that which holds her troublesome feelings. Plath writes, “The box is locked, it is dangerous,” signaling that the speaker has control over these “dark, dark” feelings and is forced to keep them locked within. She continues to remark upon restraint with such lines as: “I am the owner,” and “How can I let them out?” proving that she is creatively seeking an avenue to which she can express her thoughts. She signals through several lines though that she does not quite understand that which torments her as well through lines such as “the unintelligible syllables,” and “noise that appals me most of all.” She states “small, taken one by one, but my god, together!” signaling her desperation and wish to be free of her torturous thoughts. Finally, she feels that she is losing control and the box will not hold forever and she makes the decision to release the bees. “If I just undid the locks, and stood back and turned into a tree,” the speaker positions herself as a double in this line; her illness does not comprise her as an individual, she stands as an observer after she has “released” that which she had previously sheltered and compares herself to a tree—I feel this line promotes  stoicism and strength.
                A second interpretation of this poem allows for an understanding of Plath’s thoughts on gender roles. Her position as homemaker and mother is present in much of her poetry.  The first mention of a “clean wood box” hints at home life, the house in which she lives in particular, that which she “ordered” by getting married. The “box” then serves as that which she is imprisoned. Diction throughout the first three stanzas promote death, isolation and claustrophobia—she describes the box as  “coffin,” “locked,” “dangerous,” “no exit,” and “dark, dark.”
                Finally, after reading through several times, I began to notice that this poem serves discuss her role as mother and her feelings toward her children. It is a bit of a stretch, but one could interpret the “box” as the home she  lives in with her children all day, every day. Having no other distractions, besides that of her poetry, she feels as if she is “locked” in and she “can’t keep away.” The fifth stanza reveals this attitude beautifully: “I wonder how hungry they are/ I wonder if they would forget me/If I just undid the locks and stood back and turned into a tree,” revealing the speaker’s attitude toward her children. It is as if she feels that they aren’t necessarily ungrateful, but rather unaware of all that she has given up for them. It is clear through the diction the speaker feels underappreciated and unnoticed.
                Indeed, despite which interpretation one may feel is the most accurate—they all share the common theme of isolation and entrapment, which was most certainly a contributing factor to Plath’s mental illness.er HsShdkfdslkj;are’pjg;kn jhlkdjflskdjfl

Moloch! You Destroyer.

It wasn’t until I heard Ginsberg read “Howl” in its entirety that intended argument was fully clear to me. Throughout the first section of “Howl”, Ginsberg catalogues for the reader a philosophical yearbook of his peers, the “best minds of [his] generation,” and their collective struggle against the hypocrisy and criminality of the industrial state and the soul-crippling effects of the emerging capitalist super-power, the likes of which the world has never seen—while simultaneously grappling with addiction and the resulting madness of shattered illusions. Throughout the first section of “Howl”, the themes of poverty, internal-struggle, addiction and alienation are immediately apparent, but Ginsberg juxtaposes these ubiquitous images of darkness with “platonic conversationalists” and sentimental youths who “wept at  the romance of the streets.” I feel Ginsberg intentionally romances these attitudes in effort to prove what he ultimately does in the last sections of the poem—a reconciliation and a decisive attitude that denies the machinery and smothered identity of the “innocent flannel suits.”
                 Part Two of “Howl” begins with the image of Moloch the machine that “bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination,” their referring to the American collective and particularly the young minds sacrificed in the name of God and Country in Part One. I feel Ginsberg chose machinery as the cause of ultimate destruction, rather than self-inflicted destruction, due to the obvious supreme industrialization and colonization of the period in which the poem was written, but also a machine serves as a symbol of something that is more powerful than man. A machine, though built by the hands of men, is built only to do the work that a man cannot do. It is eventual that the power of the machine will become greater than man  because the mind will begin to believe that it cannot function without the help of the machine. Even if one considers the “machine” as a political entity, religious institution or other controlling body rather than a collection of mechanical parts, the sentiment remains the same. The last lines of Part Two identify the city and Moloch as newly divine entities after they have been lifted to the heavens on the backs of the men, signifying again that the power of the created machine is merely illusory. Moving away from this image, the last lines struck me as a return to fundamentals. “They bade farewell! They jumped off the roof! To solitude! Waving! Carrying flowers! Down to the river! Into the street!”; this line struck me in particular as a generation’s call to reconcile the fact that the “machine” does not hold power;  one may “jump off” at any given point and return to their own visions of truth and reality.
                Part Three solidifies the speaker’s place within this community; the repetition of “I’m with you in Rockland” serves to solidify the culminating theme of reconciliation—the place of the individual in the world is correlated to but not directly dependent upon the movement and expansion of a political body, industrial station, cultural stigma or a religious institution. The selection of words such as “journey,” “dream”, “America” and “western” provide me with a nostalgic longing for that which exists in the collective unconscious—the desire to follow the path of your dreams and explore the horizon despite the horrors of a world that persistently calls your name and ask you to sign up.