Wednesday, October 15, 2014

10.15.14

I read yesterday that Caroline Kizer passed away. She was an accomplished poet and educator, as well as an expert on Asian literature and language, serving for a time as a writing teacher in China and Pakistan under the umbrella of the State Department. 

Kizer is known as a Pacific Northwest writer, born in Spokane and studied under Roethke. She did graduate studies at Sarah Lawrence and the University of Washington, focusing in mythology after she was told her musical career would never take off (she was a pianist). Among her honors are the founding of Poets Northwest and serving as its editor for a time, a Pulitzer prize for her poem Yin, Chancellor of the American Academy of Poets until 1998. 

She is noted as a feminist poet, quitting university posts due to lack of diversity, and one of her most-famous works is Pro Femina, "For the Woman" in Latin. Not just for the woman in general, but specifically for the female writer, it seems. I selected the first 2 "cantos" to share. 



Pro Femina 

ONE
From Sappho to myself, consider the fate of women.
How unwomanly to discuss it! Like a noose or an albatross necktie   
The clinical sobriquet hangs us: codpiece coveters.
Never mind these epithets; I myself have collected some honeys.   
Juvenal set us apart in denouncing our vices
Which had grown, in part, from having been set apart:
Women abused their spouses, cuckolded them, even plotted   
To poison them. Sensing, behind the violence of his manner—
“Think I'm crazy or drunk?”—his emotional stake in us,   
As we forgive Strindberg and Nietzsche, we forgive all those   
Who cannot forget us. We are hyenas. Yes, we admit it.

While men have politely debated free will, we have howled for it,   
Howl still, pacing the centuries, tragedy heroines.
Some who sat quietly in the corner with their embroidery
Were Defarges, stabbing the wool with the names of their ancient   
Oppressors, who ruled by the divine right of the male—
I’m impatient of interruptions! I’m aware there were millions   
Of mutes for every Saint Joan or sainted Jane Austen,
Who, vague-eyed and acquiescent, worshiped God as a man.   
I’m not concerned with those cabbageheads, not truly feminine   
But neutered by labor. I mean real women, like you and like me.

Freed in fact, not in custom, lifted from furrow and scullery,   
Not obliged, now, to be the pot for the annual chicken,   
Have we begun to arrive in time? With our well-known   
Respect for life because it hurts so much to come out with it;   
Disdainful of “sovereignty,” “national honor;” and other abstractions;
We can say, like the ancient Chinese to successive waves of invaders,   
“Relax, and let us absorb you. You can learn temperance   
In a more temperate climate.” Give us just a few decades   
Of grace, to encourage the fine art of acquiescence   
And we might save the race. Meanwhile, observe our creative chaos,   
Flux, efflorescence—whatever you care to call it!


         TWO
I take as my theme “The Independent Woman,”
Independent but maimed: observe the exigent neckties   
Choking violet writers; the sad slacks of stipple-faced matrons;   
Indigo intellectuals, crop-haired and callus-toed,
Cute spectacles, chewed cuticles, aced out by full-time beauties   
In the race for a male. Retreating to drabness, bad manners,   
And sleeping with manuscripts. Forgive our transgressions   
Of old gallantries as we hitch in chairs, light our own cigarettes,   
Not expecting your care, having forfeited it by trying to get even.

But we need dependency, cosseting, and well-treatment.   
So do men sometimes. Why don’t they admit it?   
We will be cows for a while, because babies howl for us,   
Be kittens or bitches, who want to eat grass now and then   
For the sake of our health. But the role of pastoral heroine   
Is not permanent, Jack. We want to get back to the meeting.

Knitting booties and brows, tartars or termagants, ancient   
Fertility symbols, chained to our cycle, released
Only in part by devices of hygiene and personal daintiness,   
Strapped into our girdles, held down, yet uplifted by man’s   
Ingenious constructions, holding coiffures in a breeze,   
Hobbled and swathed in whimsy, tripping on feminine   
Shoes with fool heels, losing our lipsticks, you, me,
In ephemeral stockings, clutching our handbags and packages.
Our masks, always in peril of smearing or cracking,
In need of continuous check in the mirror or silverware,   
Keep us in thrall to ourselves, concerned with our surfaces.   
Look at man’s uniform drabness, his impersonal envelope!   
Over chicken wrists or meek shoulders, a formal, hard-fibered assurance.   
The drape of the male is designed to achieve self-forgetfulness.

So, Sister, forget yourself a few times and see where it gets you:   
Up the creek, alone with your talent, sans everything else.
You can wait for the menopause, and catch up on your reading.   
So primp, preen, prink, pluck, and prize your flesh,
All posturings! All ravishment! All sensibility!
Meanwhile, have you used your mind today?
What pomegranate raised you from the dead,
Springing, full-grown, from your own head, Athena?


I really liked this work, and will be seeking out more of her work to enjoy. Reading this made me beam, just hugely smile with the force of her words, their humor, honesty, and poise. The fragment "cute spectacles, chewed cuticles" is nearly a chaismus and made me laugh as if it were a tongue-twister. "Observe the exigent neckties" also made me smile. I am sorry that Kizer has passed, but I'm glad her legacy is as strong as it is.

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