TRB 10: Mushrooms by Sylvia Plath

[Suzanne]

This thread is part of "The Rattle Bag 20" If you would like more information you can find it here: viewtopic.php?f=2&t=15198

Hello from the land of blooming blueberry bushes, blustery winds and gravel covered snow piles, slow to melt under the pines.

When I arrived at PG and started to pick up names of contemporary poets, one of the first females recommended to me was Sylvia Plath, followed by a discussion among current posters on the the characteristics of her writing. It went all went over my head at the time, she was just a name of many names I didn't know.

This poem found me at the beginning of my hunt through the Rattle Bag and is definitely on my list of favorites.
by Sylvia Plath




Mushrooms

Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly

Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.

Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.

Soft fists insist on
Heaving the needles,
The leafy bedding,

Even the paving.
Our hammers, our rams,
Earless and eyeless,

Perfectly voiceless,
Widen the crannies,
Shoulder through holes. We

Diet on water,
On crumbs of shadow,
Bland-mannered, asking

Little or nothing.
So many of us!
So many of us!

We are shelves, we are
Tables, we are meek,
We are edible,

Nudgers and shovers
In spite of ourselves.
Our kind multiplies:

We shall by morning
Inherit the earth.
Our foot's in the door.



Over the course of the years when her name has come up, there seems to be a pebble thrown into a calm pool. Not a brick but a pebble. It seems readers like her or hate her. And her life with Ted Hughes nearly always comes up as does her sad death.

Here is a bio:

http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/11

She is known as one of the Confessional poets
(brief description of that found here: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/5650)


Would it be on yours? Why?


Warmly,
Suzanne

[JohnLott]

Very simple, matter of fact and 5 syllables per line.
Some clever words and phrases.

I don't want to go into metre and beat, since we can't agree: [TRB 1 debate].

I am reminded of part of Ros' poem 'Soundings' where the Honey Mushroom of Oregon is described, both are intuitive observations.

Must be early Plath before she wandered into the maze with works like Ariel, Daddy, Mystic.
As you might guess, I like the naturalness of this while Ariel is a country mile too far.

I'm not sure I would have a Plath on my list for at least 5 years.



J.

[Deryn]

Thanks for the pointer to this thread John.

Both links at the end of the poem were very interesting. Always good to read a bio regarding a poet. And interesting to read about 'Confessional poets.' I'll take a look at a couple more poets mentioned.

As for the poem itself I did enjoy the read.

Firstly I would have liked to have read this poem without knowing the title. It reads like a really good guessing game, 'what am I ?' A piece I could imagine being used in a literature class with young students to get them to widen their vocabulary to describe something.

I am white
I move very quietly
I come out at night
I live under leafy material
I have no ears or eyes
I have no voice
there are many of us
you can eat us
what am I ?

I might well have guessed mushrooms although the last verse might have caused me to think it might be a 'Triffid' !

We shall by morning
Inherit the earth.

I found it easy to read and thanks John for pointing out the 5 syllables per line. It's something I would like to try myself.

Hey Suzanne, sending warm waves back to you.

[bodkin]

I have never really investigated Plath that closely.

I think I am coming down on the side of liking her, but this isn't the one I'd pick.

Plus she missed a perfect chance to suggest the mushrooms were up to something...

Ian

[Isis]

What I like about this poem is the way it uses sounds that nose their way forward much in the same way the mushrooms do. The assonance and the repetition across lines and between stanzas holds the poem together, but it never gets intrusive or distracting from the images. Its playful, too, in a way that Plath's more dire, later poems were not - they also played with sound, but less freely than this poem does, I think.

Overnight, toes, our noses, hold, loam,

Soft fists insist, Heaving, needles, leafy, Even, paving.

Shoulder through holes.

Feels good to read aloud.
Those who like this might also like Plath's Mirror - its darker, but it remains very legible and image centered, like this poem.

[Suzanne]

Hey, Deryn... Thanks, I volley that warm wave back you you.

and Isis! Your comments were what I thought, too. I will look up Mirror. I have read little of Plath but loved the sounds of this one. soft fists insist, lovely.

Ian, I thought that it was a bit spooky that we don't know exactly what they are up to but they intend to inherit the earth! oooh... unsettling.

John, what happens in five years?? What did you mean?

Suzanne

[JohnLott]

It will be at least five years before I mature enough as a poet to appreciate Plath.



J.