Frost, Silk, and Wind

“He has bequeathed his nation a body of imperishable verse from which Americans will forever gain joy and understanding” That is what President John F. Kennedy said about Robert Frost, the man nearly synonymous with American poetry. Frost is most famous for instituting the use of colloquial “Yankee” words into poetry which had previously been dominated by (Redcoat?) formal language. His work was marked by a unique ability to infuse conversational language with poetic qualities. Frost’s “The Silken Tent” is no exception. It is a painstakingly crafted metaphor of love and admiration with hidden layers of meaning. In Frost’s single sentence sonnet, the speaker finds significance in the most lackluster of objects. Indeed, Frost utilizes his characteristic vivid imagery and simple vocabulary to draw a surprisingly profound comparison between a woman and, yes, a tent. However, behind the idle affection in the poem, lies a more serious, more consequential revelation about life.

The speaker finds an apt comparison to the woman in the form of a silken tent rustling softly in the wind. Like the tent, the woman lives a life “at ease” (line 4), existing in harmony with the world around her, never once out of sync with the billowing wind. Frost actually allows the rhythm of the poetry to demonstrate this calm atmosphere with soothing phrases such as “sunny summer breeze” (line 2). The carefully selected language of the poem allows us to infer that the speaker holds the woman in high regard. He notes that the tent is supported by a “central cedar pole” (line 5). Her core is one of a strong and rich wood, which does not yield to outside forces. She is a woman of true character, her principled lifestyle bridging the gap between heaven and earth as a “pinnacle to heavenward” (line 6). In fact, her upright nature “signifies the sureness of the soul” (line 7).

For all her personal strength and integrity, the woman does not truly stand on her own, but rather is “loosely bound / By countless silken ties of love and thought” (line 9-10) to the rest of the world. She is not only braced by others, but is literally tied to them in an enormous web of mutual support. Through the grounding force of others, the woman is capable of withstanding the gusting of the wind. Similarly, others are sustained by the woman’s vigor and made stronger by it. Tiny threads of silk, a fine yet resilient fiber, are the means by which the woman is connected to all others.

Nevertheless, those connections which allow the woman to “sway at ease” demand something from her. She is liberated by those links and yet she is dependent on them. Thus, when one thread goes “slightly taut” (line 12), the woman is reminded of the limiting aspect, the “slightest bondage” (line 14), of her connections. By binding herself to others, the woman has acquired the freedom and ability to achieve things she never could have alone. Yet she has made a very real sacrifice. She will never again be fully independent and no achievement will ever belong entirely to her. The capricious wind of circumstance will always hold sway over her life.

Go Tell It On the Mountain

As years of library overdue fines prove, I have trouble choosing just one book to read at a time. So, after a long and drawn-out process of whittling down the list of books to a "manageable" ten or so that I wanted to read, I headed to the local Borders. It was there that I began my ritual of cracking open a copy of each novel and reading a given page or two. If I was drawn into the narrative, it stayed on the list. If I found myself bored, it was crossed off.

The only problem was that after reading snippets of each book, I still had ten choices. Finally, after recalling our many class discussions (and recent political discussions) about the nature of race, I chose to read James Baldwin's Go Tell It On The Mountain. While I must admit that I have not yet completed it, I have so far enjoyed Baldwin's insightful writing. I look forward to completing it in the coming days.