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Old 12-28-2009, 07:26 PM   #44
daisygrrl
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Someone let me know that this poem seemed disturbing to her; valuing this person’s thoughts and assuming that a few others might feel similarly, I decided to elaborate a bit about the piece.

“Party Dress for a First Born” comes from Rita Dove’s Mother Love, a collection of poetry that focuses on the relationship between mothers and daughters. The poems, all sonnets, are written from the perspective of the mythological figures Demeter and Persephone. In Greek mythology, Persephone (the daughter) was abducted by Hades (from the underworld); Demeter (the mother) mourned for Persephone so much that Hades allows Persephone to periodically visit her mother—heralding the changing of the seasons.

“Party Dress for a First Born” appears near the beginning of the myth, when Persephone is encountering adolescence—and striving to create a separate identity from her mother ("the world stood still" when the mother called--but now, the daughter is keeping "secret" desires). Whether or not a reader knows or doesn’t know that the poem is based on the Persephone/Demeter myth, I figured that the sense of adolescence—as both an erotic and violent stage—would surface; plus, I think the sounds and rhythm are pretty awesome within the poem…

I hope no one was too ‘put off’ by the poem :-)

Link/Scholarly source: Pat Righelato’s Understanding Rita Dove

Quote:
Originally Posted by daisygrrl View Post
“Party Dress for a First Born”
By Rita Dove

Headless girl so ill at ease on the bed,
I know, if you could, what you’re thinking of:
nothing. I used to think that, too,
whenever I sat down to a full plate
or unwittingly stepped on an ant.
When I ran to my mother, waiting radiant
as a cornstalk at the edge of the field,
nothing else mattered: the world stood still.

Tonight men stride like elegant scissors across the lawn
to the women arrayed there, petals waiting to loosen.
When I step out, disguised in your blushing skin,
they will nudge each other to get a peek
and I will smile, all the while wishing them dead.
Mother’s calling. Stand up: it will be our secret.
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