My favorite poetry teacher ever said that people dislike poetry because it is a learned language which many people aren't taught. You translate the language so wonderfully. This series is so valuable to me 💗💗💗
What a beautiful poem and a wonderful analysis. I remember reading this when you first tweeted it and feeling like a tree was growing in my chest as I read it
I also thought of The Handmaid's Tale with the strange land of motherhood where everyone is silenced while being together constantly. I also thought there was a kind of jokey irony in the line about her bed. Like you 'made your bed' by having a child and now you won't get to lie in it.
What a brilliant poem - any new mum can identify with these desolate feelings of postnatal depression. The poem feels barren - like you said there's no mention of other life in 'The Republic of Motherhood,' which is the opposite of what it should be. Babies are seen as new beginnings - this seems like the end until the last line where there's a small ray of light. Throughout the poem, there's no joy except through the words 'loving', 'singing' and 'blossom'.
I also saw the ‘uniform’ at the beginning as maybe talking about the bodily changes that happen when you become pregnant and after you have given birth (big belly, breast changing, stretch marks etc) as well as the actually clothing changes of pregnancy and motherhood.
Jen, I found you by looking up Nicci French and stumbled upon this video and poem. So beautiful and tragic feeling at the same time. As a mother of a child with multiple disabilities, my interpertation took on a different meaning as I see motherhood through a different lens. As a Mom of a child with an ultra rare genetic disorder, intellectual disabilities, who lacks spoken words, brain-based visual impairment and orthopedic challenges, I feel this poem. For those whom motherhood, the daily aspects of caring for your child, never ends (and whose child's vision is described to be like a kaleidoscope), I was really struck by it. Which is really the wonder of both motherhood and art, isn't it? We each experience them differently and they can be beautiful and tragic at the same time. xo
Thank you for this great choice of a poem and the dissection. I scribbled down so many things myself. (too many to share) But, I am currently writing a large paper on Virginia Woolf, so I am naturally reading a lot of her texts (which leads to me constantly drawing connections between her texts and others' texts). One of the texts I came across again yesterday was her essay "On being Ill". Especially when you talked about the mothers and babies seeing the world differently after birth, I was reminded of that essay and how VW says that when ill, "the world changes its shape", or we perceive it differently. I guess through entering the republic of motherhood, the world changes shape. And, adding to that I would say when reading and writing the world changes shape as well.
Both the poem and your thoughts and analysis are gorgeous! I picked up on many of the same themes and the imagery that you did, only you articulated it better than I ever could. I initially was disappointed with the last line. It didn't resonate with me as the imagery of "pixilated" and "kaleidoscope" simply don't work together in my mind. "Pixilated" evokes technology, screens, boxes, and artificial lighting, whereas "kaleidoscope" reminds me of more organic shapes, stained glass, and the sun. However, when I really think about the last line both "pixilated" and "kaleidoscope" deal with fragmented imagery, which works well with your interpretation of the last line.
Blatantly Bookish I agree with this. Because it says she was praying I imagined her in a church with the the light coming through a stained glass window. And the pixelation and the idea of a kaleidoscope, suggesting people not really seeing what motherhood really is.
Wonderful! While I was writing down the poem I already scribbled down a lot of thoughts. Mainly in the beginning some could be compared to yours...I struggled later on - that's where your superb knowledge of myths and fairytales came in. Brilliant! Thank you so much and please let's do this again sometime 💗😙.
I enjoyed listening to your analysis. I have random thoughts. It brought to mind The Handmaid's Tale. A queendom - no men...women gathering in queues at supermarkets. The line 'while winds pierced my breasts like silver arrows'. Brings back memories of breastfeeding in parks while freezing! The last lines 'I prayed and prayed until my voice was a nightcry and sunlight pixelated my face like a kaleidoscope'. Reminded me of staying up all night with a baby, hoping (praying) that the baby will sleep, the desperation of sleeplessness (I'm not sure that's a word!), and watching the sunrise. Feeling so tired and being unable to focus...the world a blur. I really enjoyed this video, and the discovery of a new poem. Thank you ☺.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Emma. "The line 'while winds pierced my breasts like silver arrows'. Brings back memories of breastfeeding in parks while freezing!" Yes! x
I love this video series so much! It may be my favorite (Fairy Tales with Jen is a close second!!). I love how the poem is never separated by stanzas (i think that's the right word? correct me if i'm wrong), how it never really lets you catch a breath - it's tiring, and at moments, if you're not paying close attention, you get lost in it, it stops making sense. The absense of the baby also caught my eye - how we're never sure it exists, maybe because the I is also unsure (it made me think of all the big questions about existence - do we exist the moment we are conceived? the moment we're born? the moment we become concious of ourselves? maybe when others become councious of us?). I thought what you said about Republic x queendom was absolutely wonderful. It had not crossed my mind. It truly feels like the mother is being mocked. Something that also caught my eye is the lack of sound in the poem - we never hear the sounds of others, not the sounds of the world. I wonder if maybe that's because the cry of the baby is all she can hear? Or if that's just another way to show how numb she feels? Anyway, the lack of sound makes her scream at the end have an even stronger impact for me. I love Berry's use of "fucking" and "skinless". Also really liked the "Our Lady of the Birth Trauma, Our Lady of Psychosis" - the gods of this land, if I understood correctly. The gods who have no name and belong to everyone, but never to themselves. Thank you for this wonderful video, Jen!! xx
I was particularly struck by the line "Our Lady of the Birth Trauma, Our Lady of Psychosis", especially since I had a Catholic upbringing, where Mary ('our lady') was the ideal mother and ideal woman. Though she has many forms and apparitions, she always feels distant because of her perfection. When the speaker in the poem prays to 'our lady', even though the 'our' implies connection of some sort, she feels none because her experience with motherhood is so unlike that of Mary's. Mary is held up as the perfect mother in a system created by men, she is characterized from a man's point of view, even though she is supposed to 'belong' to women.
Love this video! I had many of the same thoughts as you did, though not nearly as eloquent (partly because I was up all night watching figure skating haha), but one thing I did think about was the part about coins singing in her pockets, to me it felt like this comment on how women are "rewarded" for being mothers (because that's what we're supposed to do(?)) and I also thought of the use of the word singing as in praising something, but her not feeling as motherhood is a reward or this great thing that some people make it out to be, also connecting to the part about the flag and being patriotic but not really know why or what for. It did also make me think about the handmaid's tale as you mentioned, and the intersection of society's view of motherhood and many women's experiences being very different from that, relating both to depression and to the fact that maybe the don't want to become mothers. I don't know if this made any sense, but I loved this poem and thank you so much for introducing it to me! I'm definitely going to have a look at her other writing.
This was a really thorough and illuminating dissection. If I got nothing else out of this, the use of the end-line 'waiting' is a clever little trick. I'll keep my eye on how the endline word controls the pace of a scene. I've considered it for humour and tone, but not pace. Thank you for the video! edit: I also love your take on the last line! I could see, in the context of the chapel, the coloured kaleidoscope of dawn coming through stain glass, perhaps bearing images of the fallen, those mothers who have come before.
Thank you for this video! When I read that she was pushing a pram I thought that there was no baby, and it turn a little bit sad as one of my friends lost her baby when she was born. It's a beautiful poem, even if you read it thinking there's no baby, and I enjoyed your dissection very very much ♥️
Love your poetry series and your thoughts in every video you make! A thought crossed my mind while reading this, the part "Feedingcleaninglovingfeeding. I walked home, heartsore, through pale streets" made me think the author had just finished breastfeeding her baby, as the previous sentence had ended with "feeding" and the author is "heartsore" and "pale", and her chest is now tender and devoid of milk. This is my 2-cents worth of thoughts, hehe! xoxo
I know this isn’t even an ongoing convo anymore(!) but I just treated myself to the Black Country and the Republic Of Motherhood by Liz Berry and have an uncontrollable urge to blurt out some thoughts. I came across Liz reading some of her poems on RUclips and was spellbound. I felt that the reason the baby wasn’t mentioned was because this was for and about the mothers alone. Once we become mothers we are always defined in relation to our babies and this does the opposite by omitting all mention of the baby. I got the impression that this “wild queendom” with its close proximity to the animal and creature in us was a dangerous place (the cemetery) but was also meant to have access to a wild joy along with a with a wild beauty. Was that what was happening at the end I wonder? Was she experiencing the wild joy of the queendom? My other thought was that something had gone terribly wrong in the Republic of Motherhood. That’s why it was so lonely; bleak, pale and industrialised. That’s why her prayer ends up a nightcry. All the queens of Motherhood, past present and future cry out through the prayer. Just initial thoughts. This poem has blown me away. I became a mother 27 years ago and I felt right back there, physically, emotionally and mentally. Thanks for your insightful and interesting analysis Jen, I will listen again!
I really enjoyed the way you analysed the poem (although I read the big moon as one of those really bright circular lamps they have when you give birth) Was wondering though what colours you would connect to the poem, apart from a night time blue and the yellow of her lamp?
I know this video is from months ago now but I was so inspired by this poetry collection I ended up on a binge of pregnancy related literature. I was wondering if anyone has any recommendations that are in the same vein as The Republic of Motherhood, Sight by Jessie Greengrass, The Perfect Mother by Amiee Molloy, Red Clocks by Leni Zumas etc.
This was really lovely, Jen. This poem is wonderful, it felt to me as a portrait of motherhood as this common experience (hence the Republic) that people nevertheless transverse completely alone. I enjoyed your analysis, lots of stuff I wouldn't have come up with on my own but made a lot of sense once you pointed them out. Not sure I have a lot to add to this discussion, but I'll just add my own interpretations of some lines. "As required, I stood beneath the flag of Motherhood / and opened my mouth although I did not know the anthem." This made me think of society's expectation of new mothers to speak of motherhood as the most wonderful experience of their lives and having babies as personal fulfilment. This makes it even more difficult to speak out about post-partum depression and such and many people say what is expected of them, even if it's not what they're feeling. "winds pierced my breasts like silver arrows" could also be a reference to pain some mothers feel during breastfeeding, no? "sunlight pixelated my face like a kaleidoscope." My first thoughts on this line were much bleaker than yours. The use pixelated suggested to me a loss of definition, continuing with the theme of loss of identity. Hope you do more of this series soon, it's great.
""winds pierced my breasts like silver arrows" could also be a reference to pain some mothers feel during breastfeeding, no?" Absolutely - also makes me think of the Amazons (female warriors who were said to have cut off one breast so they could throw spears and arrows). Here she is very conscious of having both breasts and be battling.
I loved this video! Analyzing poems is such a joyful experience, much more so in a group setting. I love reading the comments here; thank you for doing this. ❤ A few thoughts: "by lamplight wrote urgent letters of complaint[...]but received no response" seems to me like the prequel to the end of the poem, as in, rational critique that goes unanswered (because there are no answers/solutions to the problems the speaker faces, and no one to answer anyway, in this wild queendom with no leader/queen), followed at the end by prayer that becomes a cry, a voiceless appeal (like a baby crying) to someone, somewhere. And the answer is like the ending of a Greek myth, the speaker as Daphne or Cornix, appealing to the gods in a moment of fear and transformed into something else, something unasked for, laurel or corvid or what have you. The poem ends in a moment of transformation, an encounter with the sublime ("unbearable skinless beauty"), a singularity followed by a fracturing of the self - and we can't see to the other side of it. We don't know whether the transformation is to the good or not. One final comment: I love your ability to relate everything to fairy tales! I wouldn't have drawn the analogy on my own, but I love the image of spindled bones as spindle-struck, a hundred years of tiredness in them. The speaker carrying around a curse she just can't shake. Thanks again for opening that reading to me! xx
On a previous video (I don’t recall which and it is likely very old), you were showing us your poetry collection. I noticed on one of your shelves, a poetry book by Leonard Cohen. Which one was that? If you cannot remember, I’ll just start somewhere random at bookdepository or Amazon. But if you do remember which one is on your shelf, your recommendation is highly valued.
I can't say it's really a recommendation; his poetry isn't quite to my taste - I actually unhauled that a while ago. But it was called Book of Longing x
Thank you for taking your time to answer. I’m wanting to start reading poetry, and since I often find myself touched by Cohen’s lyrics, I figured this would be a great place to start. I think I’ll go for it despite your “disrecommendation”. Thanks again 😊
I didn't read the first 2 lines that way at all. It's called 'The Republic of Motherhood' that's the country's official name, but when the narrator crosses over she finds it to be a wild queendom, her truth is different from the official story, motherhood is wild not civilised, and she is it's queen, this is the raw truth. Then she puts on the uniform of Motherhood, she conforms to the norms and expectations, and gets on with the hard work of being a mother. And I agree with Jen's analysis till we get to the coins of motherhood. I don't see these as weighing her down, rather I see this as saying that despite all the hardship motherhood entails as described in the previous sentence, it does bring a secret hidden joy that she keeps safe in her pocket, she is still a queen here. Agree with Jen pretty much until the narrator writes letters of complaint, and then falls ill after receiving no response. To me she is railing against society's expectations of motherhood and this leads to her needing to be treated or cured, isolated from others. Then again I pretty much agree except, I think it's worth noting that she prays for the queendom and not the republic. The is cured, ie learns to conform, is sent back out, plays the part of the good mother , but when she comes to the cemeteries she knows, she feels the connection to the queendom, but can't articulate it clearly
I remember when I had my first baby, the first time I left the house I felt like a machine, plugged to my child. Constant worry, constant restlessness. Pale also an indication for anemia. The healthcare are seen as slender and efficient as opposed to her heavyweight and non-efficient. Motherhood is a state. A constant state of being, that once entered can't be exited. State. In all it meaning.
Hello! I love this series, the poem and your interpretation. I wanted to ask a question about the intertextuality between "The Republic of Motherhood" and "From the Republic of Solution" by Seamus Heaney. I believe Liz Berry clearly drew inspiration (and more than that) from Heaney previous work. The opening verses and the overall arch of recognition of an identity that will never be shed feels tightly connected. (Berry's to me is way more raw.) Can I ask for your opinion on this? Thank you so much. Love your work! Cheers.
Thanks for replying. Yes, I did mean "Conscience". (I was multitasking as I was writing the comment and words got jumbled, sorry!) I will definitely dig into this connection in the future. Thanks.
My favorite poetry teacher ever said that people dislike poetry because it is a learned language which many people aren't taught. You translate the language so wonderfully. This series is so valuable to me 💗💗💗
This means a lot, thank you xx
What a beautiful poem and a wonderful analysis. I remember reading this when you first tweeted it and feeling like a tree was growing in my chest as I read it
I also thought of The Handmaid's Tale with the strange land of motherhood where everyone is silenced while being together constantly. I also thought there was a kind of jokey irony in the line about her bed. Like you 'made your bed' by having a child and now you won't get to lie in it.
What a brilliant poem - any new mum can identify with these desolate feelings of postnatal depression. The poem feels barren - like you said there's no mention of other life in 'The Republic of Motherhood,' which is the opposite of what it should be. Babies are seen as new beginnings - this seems like the end until the last line where there's a small ray of light. Throughout the poem, there's no joy except through the words 'loving', 'singing' and 'blossom'.
What a gorgeous poem and analysis. Will send it to my friend, who is a first time mother.
I also saw the ‘uniform’ at the beginning as maybe talking about the bodily changes that happen when you become pregnant and after you have given birth (big belly, breast changing, stretch marks etc) as well as the actually clothing changes of pregnancy and motherhood.
Yes! Excellent. x
Jen, this was absolutely brilliant!
Jen, I found you by looking up Nicci French and stumbled upon this video and poem.
So beautiful and tragic feeling at the same time. As a mother of a child with multiple disabilities, my interpertation took on a different meaning as I see motherhood through a different lens. As a Mom of a child with an ultra rare genetic disorder, intellectual disabilities, who lacks spoken words, brain-based visual impairment and orthopedic challenges, I feel this poem. For those whom motherhood, the daily aspects of caring for your child, never ends (and whose child's vision is described to be like a kaleidoscope), I was really struck by it.
Which is really the wonder of both motherhood and art, isn't it? We each experience them differently and they can be beautiful and tragic at the same time. xo
I'd never heard of Liz Berry before, but this poem is STUNNING!!! Off to read more of her work !
She is fabulous. xx
Thank you for this great choice of a poem and the dissection. I scribbled down so many things myself. (too many to share) But, I am currently writing a large paper on Virginia Woolf, so I am naturally reading a lot of her texts (which leads to me constantly drawing connections between her texts and others' texts). One of the texts I came across again yesterday was her essay "On being Ill". Especially when you talked about the mothers and babies seeing the world differently after birth, I was reminded of that essay and how VW says that when ill, "the world changes its shape", or we perceive it differently. I guess through entering the republic of motherhood, the world changes shape. And, adding to that I would say when reading and writing the world changes shape as well.
Yes! And when Woolf says: “As a woman I have no country. As a woman my country is the whole world.” x
Both the poem and your thoughts and analysis are gorgeous! I picked up on many of the same themes and the imagery that you did, only you articulated it better than I ever could. I initially was disappointed with the last line. It didn't resonate with me as the imagery of "pixilated" and "kaleidoscope" simply don't work together in my mind. "Pixilated" evokes technology, screens, boxes, and artificial lighting, whereas "kaleidoscope" reminds me of more organic shapes, stained glass, and the sun. However, when I really think about the last line both "pixilated" and "kaleidoscope" deal with fragmented imagery, which works well with your interpretation of the last line.
Blatantly Bookish I agree with this. Because it says she was praying I imagined her in a church with the the light coming through a stained glass window. And the pixelation and the idea of a kaleidoscope, suggesting people not really seeing what motherhood really is.
Thank you for introducing me to this beautiful poem! And also for making this video! I hope you film more videos like this one :D
I will - and there's a playlist in the description of other videos in this series. x
Thank you! ^^ I will check them out!
Wonderful! While I was writing down the poem I already scribbled down a lot of thoughts. Mainly in the beginning some could be compared to yours...I struggled later on - that's where your superb knowledge of myths and fairytales came in. Brilliant! Thank you so much and please let's do this again sometime 💗😙.
I will, thank you ☺️ if you want to see previous episodes in the series, see the link to the playlist in the description x
I enjoyed listening to your analysis. I have random thoughts. It brought to mind The Handmaid's Tale. A queendom - no men...women gathering in queues at supermarkets. The line 'while winds pierced my breasts like silver arrows'. Brings back memories of breastfeeding in parks while freezing! The last lines 'I prayed and prayed
until my voice was a nightcry
and sunlight pixelated my face like a kaleidoscope'. Reminded me of staying up all night with a baby, hoping (praying) that the baby will sleep, the desperation of sleeplessness (I'm not sure that's a word!), and watching the sunrise. Feeling so tired and being unable to focus...the world a blur. I really enjoyed this video, and the discovery of a new poem. Thank you ☺.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Emma. "The line 'while winds pierced my breasts like silver arrows'. Brings back memories of breastfeeding in parks while freezing!" Yes! x
This made me want to go try and dissect a poem on my own. I learned a lot here! What a wonderful poem ❤️
Dissect away! xx
This is an amazing analysis and has deepened my appreciation of this beautiful poem. Thank you :)
Thanks, Sophie. Hope you have a great weekend xx
This poem reminded me of 'We need to talk about Kevin' by Lionel Shriver and Plath's 'Metaphors'. Thanks for this amazing analysis!
I love this video series so much! It may be my favorite (Fairy Tales with Jen is a close second!!). I love how the poem is never separated by stanzas (i think that's the right word? correct me if i'm wrong), how it never really lets you catch a breath - it's tiring, and at moments, if you're not paying close attention, you get lost in it, it stops making sense. The absense of the baby also caught my eye - how we're never sure it exists, maybe because the I is also unsure (it made me think of all the big questions about existence - do we exist the moment we are conceived? the moment we're born? the moment we become concious of ourselves? maybe when others become councious of us?).
I thought what you said about Republic x queendom was absolutely wonderful. It had not crossed my mind. It truly feels like the mother is being mocked.
Something that also caught my eye is the lack of sound in the poem - we never hear the sounds of others, not the sounds of the world. I wonder if maybe that's because the cry of the baby is all she can hear? Or if that's just another way to show how numb she feels? Anyway, the lack of sound makes her scream at the end have an even stronger impact for me. I love Berry's use of "fucking" and "skinless". Also really liked the "Our Lady of the Birth Trauma, Our Lady of Psychosis" - the gods of this land, if I understood correctly. The gods who have no name and belong to everyone, but never to themselves.
Thank you for this wonderful video, Jen!! xx
I was particularly struck by the line "Our Lady of the Birth Trauma, Our Lady of Psychosis", especially since I had a Catholic upbringing, where Mary ('our lady') was the ideal mother and ideal woman. Though she has many forms and apparitions, she always feels distant because of her perfection. When the speaker in the poem prays to 'our lady', even though the 'our' implies connection of some sort, she feels none because her experience with motherhood is so unlike that of Mary's. Mary is held up as the perfect mother in a system created by men, she is characterized from a man's point of view, even though she is supposed to 'belong' to women.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Sophia :) xx
Love this video! I had many of the same thoughts as you did, though not nearly as eloquent (partly because I was up all night watching figure skating haha), but one thing I did think about was the part about coins singing in her pockets, to me it felt like this comment on how women are "rewarded" for being mothers (because that's what we're supposed to do(?)) and I also thought of the use of the word singing as in praising something, but her not feeling as motherhood is a reward or this great thing that some people make it out to be, also connecting to the part about the flag and being patriotic but not really know why or what for. It did also make me think about the handmaid's tale as you mentioned, and the intersection of society's view of motherhood and many women's experiences being very different from that, relating both to depression and to the fact that maybe the don't want to become mothers. I don't know if this made any sense, but I loved this poem and thank you so much for introducing it to me! I'm definitely going to have a look at her other writing.
It did make sense ☺️ and I love that idea of “singing praises.” x
Jen Campbell glad to hear it ;) And this idea of motherhood as a currency, being worth something in and of itself, something to aspire to.
This was an amazing dissection. I loved how you read this piece and how you broke it down. Perhaps one day you can dissect one of mine.
Thankyou Jen, I think that was beautiful! I haven't read any poetry lately and I really would like to..
This was a really thorough and illuminating dissection.
If I got nothing else out of this, the use of the end-line 'waiting' is a clever little trick. I'll keep my eye on how the endline word controls the pace of a scene. I've considered it for humour and tone, but not pace. Thank you for the video!
edit: I also love your take on the last line!
I could see, in the context of the chapel, the coloured kaleidoscope of dawn coming through stain glass, perhaps bearing images of the fallen, those mothers who have come before.
I'm thinking something like Nasir al-Mulk in Shiraz. I feel like this too long of a draw though.
Thank you for this video! When I read that she was pushing a pram I thought that there was no baby, and it turn a little bit sad as one of my friends lost her baby when she was born. It's a beautiful poem, even if you read it thinking there's no baby, and I enjoyed your dissection very very much ♥️
this is such a well thought out video - i adore this poem! also you're coming to where i work next week and im so excited to see you!
Love your poetry series and your thoughts in every video you make! A thought crossed my mind while reading this, the part "Feedingcleaninglovingfeeding. I walked home, heartsore, through pale streets" made me think the author had just finished breastfeeding her baby, as the previous sentence had ended with "feeding" and the author is "heartsore" and "pale", and her chest is now tender and devoid of milk. This is my 2-cents worth of thoughts, hehe! xoxo
Beautiful lip shade 😍❤️👌
I know this isn’t even an ongoing convo anymore(!) but I just treated myself to the Black Country and the Republic Of Motherhood by Liz Berry and have an uncontrollable urge to blurt out some thoughts. I came across Liz reading some of her poems on RUclips and was spellbound.
I felt that the reason the baby wasn’t mentioned was because this was for and about the mothers alone. Once we become mothers we are always defined in relation to our babies and this does the opposite by omitting all mention of the baby.
I got the impression that this “wild queendom” with its close proximity to the animal and creature in us was a dangerous place (the cemetery) but was also meant to have access to a wild joy along with a with a wild beauty. Was that what was happening at the end I wonder? Was she experiencing the wild joy of the queendom?
My other thought was that something had gone terribly wrong in the Republic of Motherhood. That’s why it was so lonely; bleak, pale and industrialised. That’s why her prayer ends up a nightcry. All the queens of Motherhood, past present and future cry out through the prayer.
Just initial thoughts. This poem has blown me away. I became a mother 27 years ago and I felt right back there, physically, emotionally and mentally. Thanks for your insightful and interesting analysis Jen, I will listen again!
I really enjoyed the way you analysed the poem (although I read the big moon as one of those really bright circular lamps they have when you give birth) Was wondering though what colours you would connect to the poem, apart from a night time blue and the yellow of her lamp?
I know this video is from months ago now but I was so inspired by this poetry collection I ended up on a binge of pregnancy related literature.
I was wondering if anyone has any recommendations that are in the same vein as The Republic of Motherhood, Sight by Jessie Greengrass, The Perfect Mother by Amiee Molloy, Red Clocks by Leni Zumas etc.
Night Waking by Sarah Moss :) x
This was really lovely, Jen. This poem is wonderful, it felt to me as a portrait of motherhood as this common experience (hence the Republic) that people nevertheless transverse completely alone. I enjoyed your analysis, lots of stuff I wouldn't have come up with on my own but made a lot of sense once you pointed them out. Not sure I have a lot to add to this discussion, but I'll just add my own interpretations of some lines.
"As required, I stood beneath the flag of Motherhood / and opened my mouth although I did not know the anthem." This made me think of society's expectation of new mothers to speak of motherhood as the most wonderful experience of their lives and having babies as personal fulfilment. This makes it even more difficult to speak out about post-partum depression and such and many people say what is expected of them, even if it's not what they're feeling.
"winds pierced my breasts like silver arrows" could also be a reference to pain some mothers feel during breastfeeding, no?
"sunlight pixelated my face like a kaleidoscope." My first thoughts on this line were much bleaker than yours. The use pixelated suggested to me a loss of definition, continuing with the theme of loss of identity.
Hope you do more of this series soon, it's great.
""winds pierced my breasts like silver arrows" could also be a reference to pain some mothers feel during breastfeeding, no?" Absolutely - also makes me think of the Amazons (female warriors who were said to have cut off one breast so they could throw spears and arrows). Here she is very conscious of having both breasts and be battling.
I loved this video! Analyzing poems is such a joyful experience, much more so in a group setting. I love reading the comments here; thank you for doing this. ❤
A few thoughts: "by lamplight wrote urgent letters of complaint[...]but received no response" seems to me like the prequel to the end of the poem, as in, rational critique that goes unanswered (because there are no answers/solutions to the problems the speaker faces, and no one to answer anyway, in this wild queendom with no leader/queen), followed at the end by prayer that becomes a cry, a voiceless appeal (like a baby crying) to someone, somewhere. And the answer is like the ending of a Greek myth, the speaker as Daphne or Cornix, appealing to the gods in a moment of fear and transformed into something else, something unasked for, laurel or corvid or what have you. The poem ends in a moment of transformation, an encounter with the sublime ("unbearable skinless beauty"), a singularity followed by a fracturing of the self - and we can't see to the other side of it. We don't know whether the transformation is to the good or not.
One final comment: I love your ability to relate everything to fairy tales! I wouldn't have drawn the analogy on my own, but I love the image of spindled bones as spindle-struck, a hundred years of tiredness in them. The speaker carrying around a curse she just can't shake. Thanks again for opening that reading to me! xx
On a previous video (I don’t recall which and it is likely very old), you were showing us your poetry collection. I noticed on one of your shelves, a poetry book by Leonard Cohen. Which one was that? If you cannot remember, I’ll just start somewhere random at bookdepository or Amazon. But if you do remember which one is on your shelf, your recommendation is highly valued.
I can't say it's really a recommendation; his poetry isn't quite to my taste - I actually unhauled that a while ago. But it was called Book of Longing x
Thank you for taking your time to answer. I’m wanting to start reading poetry, and since I often find myself touched by Cohen’s lyrics, I figured this would be a great place to start. I think I’ll go for it despite your “disrecommendation”. Thanks again 😊
Absolutely go for it - we all like different things :)
I didn't read the first 2 lines that way at all. It's called 'The Republic of Motherhood' that's the country's official name, but when the narrator crosses over she finds it to be a wild queendom, her truth is different from the official story, motherhood is wild not civilised, and she is it's queen, this is the raw truth. Then she puts on the uniform of Motherhood, she conforms to the norms and expectations, and gets on with the hard work of being a mother. And I agree with Jen's analysis till we get to the coins of motherhood. I don't see these as weighing her down, rather I see this as saying that despite all the hardship motherhood entails as described in the previous sentence, it does bring a secret hidden joy that she keeps safe in her pocket, she is still a queen here. Agree with Jen pretty much until the narrator writes letters of complaint, and then falls ill after receiving no response. To me she is railing against society's expectations of motherhood and this leads to her needing to be treated or cured, isolated from others. Then again I pretty much agree except, I think it's worth noting that she prays for the queendom and not the republic. The is cured, ie learns to conform, is sent back out, plays the part of the good mother , but when she comes to the cemeteries she knows, she feels the connection to the queendom, but can't articulate it clearly
I remember when I had my first baby, the first time I left the house I felt like a machine, plugged to my child. Constant worry, constant restlessness.
Pale also an indication for anemia.
The healthcare are seen as slender and efficient as opposed to her heavyweight and non-efficient.
Motherhood is a state. A constant state of being, that once entered can't be exited. State. In all it meaning.
This is so out of topic but I just have to ask - what are you wearing on your lips? The color looks amazing on you! 😊
Bourjois Rouge Edition Velvet in shade 18 :) x
Hello! I love this series, the poem and your interpretation. I wanted to ask a question about the intertextuality between "The Republic of Motherhood" and "From the Republic of Solution" by Seamus Heaney. I believe Liz Berry clearly drew inspiration (and more than that) from Heaney previous work. The opening verses and the overall arch of recognition of an identity that will never be shed feels tightly connected. (Berry's to me is way more raw.) Can I ask for your opinion on this? Thank you so much. Love your work! Cheers.
Do you mean “From the Republic of Conscience”? I think you can definitely draw parallels between the two :)
Thanks for replying. Yes, I did mean "Conscience". (I was multitasking as I was writing the comment and words got jumbled, sorry!) I will definitely dig into this connection in the future. Thanks.