Two Kinds of Losses in Elizabeth Bishop
Essary 1
Shelby Essary Dr. Stratman Modern American Poetry 28 April 2015 Disastrously Different: Two Kinds of Losses in Elizabeth Bishop’s “One Art” Elizabeth Bishop’s 1976 confessional poem “One Art” deals with heavy subjects such as loss and disaster and mastering “the art of losing.” Though Bishop never explicitly states a specific purpose for writing this poem, many scholars have analyzed the poem in search of one. Jonathan Sircy claims that Bishop’s entire poem is a “failed attempt to master disaster.” He continues by stating that “loss has no distinction,” and “the poet’s purpose remains constant: stress the homogenous nature of loss” in order to convince herself that loss can be mastered, only to find in the last stanza that it was all a lie (Sircy 242). Sircy’s first claim about failed attempts to master disaster seems to be correct. The speaker of this poem does indeed fail to master the art of disaster. However, the speaker seems to know that she cannot master disaster: it is “the art of losing” that is repeated throughout the poem that she does, in fact, seem to master. As for Sircy’s second claim about the lack of distinction between the losses described in the different stanzas, it seems as though the poem is doing the exact opposite. Elizabeth Bishop makes clear distinction between the losses she describes in the first five stanzas to the loss described in the last one. The poem does not seem to be asking, “How do I master loss?” The author makes it clear, repeatedly, that she has mastered the art of (non-disastrous) losing—if we read this statement as truth and not irony, a different aspect of this poem is brought to light. The speaker of “One Art” seems to be exploring the differences and distinctions between loss: what makes loss non-disastrous and
Essary 2
controllable—the kind of loss described in the first five stanzas—as opposed to the uncontrollable kind of loss that results in disaster. The first distinction that Bishop makes between the first few losses and the last one is through the use of the word “things” in the second line of the first stanza and “something” in the first line of the second stanza. Things refers to inanimate objects, which she lists off in the following stanzas: keys, names, houses, and places. At the end of these stanzas, she repeatedly states that “their loss is no disaster,” (line 3) “None of these will bring disaster” (9), and “it wasn’t a disaster” (12). None of these bring disaster, because they are all just “things” that “seemed filled with the intent/ to be lost” (2-3). You “lose something every day,” (4) therefore, making it a mundane and natural part of life. However, in the last stanza, Bishop shifts away from talking about “things” to using the personal pronoun “you” (16). Elizabeth Dodd analyzes this line by saying, “Here the loss is very personal, a person, ‘you’” (1). The earlier losses were not personal; they were grouped together as inanimate objects with the “intent” of being lost. In the last stanza, the distinction is clear: the loss is not a thing, it is a person that does not have the intent of being lost, nor is it a mundane occurrence. This is what makes it disastrous and different from the previous, mastered losses. The second point of distinction that Bishop makes is in the details—or lack thereof—that she provides. Bishop doesn’t describe any of the items that she’s lost, other than labeling the watch as her “mother’s” (10). Every other item she simply states as being “door keys” (5), “places, names, and where it was you meant/ to travel” (8-9). There is no mention of any defining characteristics or the names of the places that she visited. Even the houses, which she refers to as “loved” (11), she cannot seem to remember if they were her “last, or next to last” (11). This stanza suggests that part of the mastery of the art of losing includes forgetting—losing
Essary 3
the memories that go along with those objects. However, in the last stanza, Bishop offers concrete details about the “you” that she has lost. She writes, “(the joking voice, a gesture/ I love)” (16-17). Again, the difference between the losses is clear. The speaker remembers details about the person that she has lost; they are still engrained in her memory, and she cannot forget them. Not only does she remember these details, but they are pleasant memories, unlike “the fluster/ of lost door keys” (4-5) presented to us in the second stanza. C.K. Doreski states that “Readers participate in the auditory and visual recall of pleasure (not pain)” and, “The positive qualities of this ultimate sacrifice displace the irritations and categorizations that came before in the poem” (1). The speaker uses the details that she includes to paint the person in a positive light, differentiating it from the losses spoken about previously, where little description or emotional connection is made. She views this loss differently than the others, evidenced by the way she presents it: using vague and generalized words in the first few stanzas shows the speaker’s ability to withdraw herself from the situation and move on. However, in the last stanza, the speaker remembers this loss vividly, and is very much still present within this situation. She has not moved on or mastered this loss, because she is still holding onto the memory. This results in the most obvious point of distinction: disaster. Lastly, the speaker makes a distinction between the two losses by varying the repeated lines and showing hesitancy. Bishop changes the repeated line “the art of losing isn’t hard to master” to “It’s evident/ the art of losing’s not too hard to master” (17-18). According to Joanne Feit Diehl, “Coupled with the addition of ‘it's evident’ is the adverbial ‘too,’ which increases the growing tension within the desire to repeat the poem's refrain while admitting growing doubts as to its accuracy” (1). In other words, what seems to work for the speaker previously no longer seems to work for this situation. The ultimate difference with the last loss is the disastrous end
Essary 4
that it brings, which makes it impossible to master. Bishop ends the poem by saying, “though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster” (19). Unlike in the previous stanzas, she no longer confidently states that the loss doesn’t end in disaster. On the contrary, the author seems to be aware that it does end in disaster, as she has to force herself to end the line, even though she knows it is not true. The last stanza deviates from the pattern of the original stanzas in order to highlight the differences between the two losses. The author does not seem to be under the impression that they are the same, even though she may want them to be. Bishop drops hints throughout the poem that these losses are different and they are to be treated as such. The shift in repetition, personal language, and the details that she offers at the end of the poem invite the reader to make a distinction and to understand the difference between the two kinds of losses: one can be mastered, while the other cannot. One ends in disaster, while the other does not.
Essary 5
Works Cited Bishop, Elizabeth. Anthology of Modern American Poetry. Ed. Cary Nelson. New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 2000. 647. Print. Diehl, Joanne Feit. “Women Poets and The American Sublime.” 1990. University of Illinois. Web. 15 Apr. 2015. Dodd, Elizabeth. “The Veiled Mirror and the Woman Poet: H.D., Louise Bogan, Elizabeth Bishop, and Louise Glück.” Web. University of Illinois. Web. 15 Apr. 2015. Doreski, C.K. “Elizabeth Bishop: The Restraints of Language.” 1993. University of Illinois. Web. 15 Apr. 2015. Sircy, Jonathan. "Bishop's One Art." Explicator 63.4 (2005): 241-244. Literary Reference Center. Web. 15 Apr. 2015.
Shelby Essary Dr. Stratman Modern American Poetry 28 April 2015 Disastrously Different: Two Kinds of Losses in Elizabeth Bishop’s “One Art” Elizabeth Bishop’s 1976 confessional poem “One Art” deals with heavy subjects such as loss and disaster and mastering “the art of losing.” Though Bishop never explicitly states a specific purpose for writing this poem, many scholars have analyzed the poem in search of one. Jonathan Sircy claims that Bishop’s entire poem is a “failed attempt to master disaster.” He continues by stating that “loss has no distinction,” and “the poet’s purpose remains constant: stress the homogenous nature of loss” in order to convince herself that loss can be mastered, only to find in the last stanza that it was all a lie (Sircy 242). Sircy’s first claim about failed attempts to master disaster seems to be correct. The speaker of this poem does indeed fail to master the art of disaster. However, the speaker seems to know that she cannot master disaster: it is “the art of losing” that is repeated throughout the poem that she does, in fact, seem to master. As for Sircy’s second claim about the lack of distinction between the losses described in the different stanzas, it seems as though the poem is doing the exact opposite. Elizabeth Bishop makes clear distinction between the losses she describes in the first five stanzas to the loss described in the last one. The poem does not seem to be asking, “How do I master loss?” The author makes it clear, repeatedly, that she has mastered the art of (non-disastrous) losing—if we read this statement as truth and not irony, a different aspect of this poem is brought to light. The speaker of “One Art” seems to be exploring the differences and distinctions between loss: what makes loss non-disastrous and
Essary 2
controllable—the kind of loss described in the first five stanzas—as opposed to the uncontrollable kind of loss that results in disaster. The first distinction that Bishop makes between the first few losses and the last one is through the use of the word “things” in the second line of the first stanza and “something” in the first line of the second stanza. Things refers to inanimate objects, which she lists off in the following stanzas: keys, names, houses, and places. At the end of these stanzas, she repeatedly states that “their loss is no disaster,” (line 3) “None of these will bring disaster” (9), and “it wasn’t a disaster” (12). None of these bring disaster, because they are all just “things” that “seemed filled with the intent/ to be lost” (2-3). You “lose something every day,” (4) therefore, making it a mundane and natural part of life. However, in the last stanza, Bishop shifts away from talking about “things” to using the personal pronoun “you” (16). Elizabeth Dodd analyzes this line by saying, “Here the loss is very personal, a person, ‘you’” (1). The earlier losses were not personal; they were grouped together as inanimate objects with the “intent” of being lost. In the last stanza, the distinction is clear: the loss is not a thing, it is a person that does not have the intent of being lost, nor is it a mundane occurrence. This is what makes it disastrous and different from the previous, mastered losses. The second point of distinction that Bishop makes is in the details—or lack thereof—that she provides. Bishop doesn’t describe any of the items that she’s lost, other than labeling the watch as her “mother’s” (10). Every other item she simply states as being “door keys” (5), “places, names, and where it was you meant/ to travel” (8-9). There is no mention of any defining characteristics or the names of the places that she visited. Even the houses, which she refers to as “loved” (11), she cannot seem to remember if they were her “last, or next to last” (11). This stanza suggests that part of the mastery of the art of losing includes forgetting—losing
Essary 3
the memories that go along with those objects. However, in the last stanza, Bishop offers concrete details about the “you” that she has lost. She writes, “(the joking voice, a gesture/ I love)” (16-17). Again, the difference between the losses is clear. The speaker remembers details about the person that she has lost; they are still engrained in her memory, and she cannot forget them. Not only does she remember these details, but they are pleasant memories, unlike “the fluster/ of lost door keys” (4-5) presented to us in the second stanza. C.K. Doreski states that “Readers participate in the auditory and visual recall of pleasure (not pain)” and, “The positive qualities of this ultimate sacrifice displace the irritations and categorizations that came before in the poem” (1). The speaker uses the details that she includes to paint the person in a positive light, differentiating it from the losses spoken about previously, where little description or emotional connection is made. She views this loss differently than the others, evidenced by the way she presents it: using vague and generalized words in the first few stanzas shows the speaker’s ability to withdraw herself from the situation and move on. However, in the last stanza, the speaker remembers this loss vividly, and is very much still present within this situation. She has not moved on or mastered this loss, because she is still holding onto the memory. This results in the most obvious point of distinction: disaster. Lastly, the speaker makes a distinction between the two losses by varying the repeated lines and showing hesitancy. Bishop changes the repeated line “the art of losing isn’t hard to master” to “It’s evident/ the art of losing’s not too hard to master” (17-18). According to Joanne Feit Diehl, “Coupled with the addition of ‘it's evident’ is the adverbial ‘too,’ which increases the growing tension within the desire to repeat the poem's refrain while admitting growing doubts as to its accuracy” (1). In other words, what seems to work for the speaker previously no longer seems to work for this situation. The ultimate difference with the last loss is the disastrous end
Essary 4
that it brings, which makes it impossible to master. Bishop ends the poem by saying, “though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster” (19). Unlike in the previous stanzas, she no longer confidently states that the loss doesn’t end in disaster. On the contrary, the author seems to be aware that it does end in disaster, as she has to force herself to end the line, even though she knows it is not true. The last stanza deviates from the pattern of the original stanzas in order to highlight the differences between the two losses. The author does not seem to be under the impression that they are the same, even though she may want them to be. Bishop drops hints throughout the poem that these losses are different and they are to be treated as such. The shift in repetition, personal language, and the details that she offers at the end of the poem invite the reader to make a distinction and to understand the difference between the two kinds of losses: one can be mastered, while the other cannot. One ends in disaster, while the other does not.
Essary 5
Works Cited Bishop, Elizabeth. Anthology of Modern American Poetry. Ed. Cary Nelson. New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 2000. 647. Print. Diehl, Joanne Feit. “Women Poets and The American Sublime.” 1990. University of Illinois. Web. 15 Apr. 2015. Dodd, Elizabeth. “The Veiled Mirror and the Woman Poet: H.D., Louise Bogan, Elizabeth Bishop, and Louise Glück.” Web. University of Illinois. Web. 15 Apr. 2015. Doreski, C.K. “Elizabeth Bishop: The Restraints of Language.” 1993. University of Illinois. Web. 15 Apr. 2015. Sircy, Jonathan. "Bishop's One Art." Explicator 63.4 (2005): 241-244. Literary Reference Center. Web. 15 Apr. 2015.
