[Susan McLean]

Unspoken

She rarely talked about herself, so I
sifted for clues: her chemistry degree,
her skill at tax prep and at making pie,
her killer tennis serve, her memory
(near photographic). Calm and self-effacing
in public, but an ace at bridge, she knew
intricate routes and drove them fast, outracing
yellow lights. She raised five children, grew
wisteria, roses, irises, and played
piano after the kids were all in bed.
Then, surging waves of splendor rolled and swayed,
lifting my heart and flooding through my head
as tides are pulled and tumbled by the moon.
Chopin. Moonlight Sonata. "Clair de Lune."


Revisions:
L2-3 was "was left to puzzle out her mystery / from meager clues: her skill at making pie,"
L6 "an ace" was "a whiz"
L7 "intricate routes and drove them fast" was "her way and drove with confidence"
L11 was "Then, waves of surging splendor rolled and swayed,"
L12 "flooding" as "flowing"
L13 Period was a colon
L14 was "Chopin, "Moonlight Sonata," "Clair de Lune.""

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Susan—

I like this poem a lot. It reminds me of your poem, “Self-Made,” which also presents a character sketch of an intelligent and misunderstood woman. I failed to realize at first reading that “Self-Made” was a self-portrait, so I wondered if this one was, too. I don’t think it is.

What interested me most was wondering why she rarely talks about herself. I like the title “Unspoken” better than “Woman of Mystery” because it directs the reader’s attention to the key issue. I laid out the puzzle pieces you provided and tried to put them together into a coherent whole.

First, she is accomplished in the traditionally feminine skills of baking, gardening, bridge, and child care. Second, she is accomplished also at traditionally masculine skills like athletics and driving. She seems introverted, (“rarely talk[ing] about herself,” “self-effacing”), but enjoys tennis and bridge, which are social and competitive activities. Third, she has a love of beauty, both the natural beauty of her garden and the artistic beauty of classical music. So why does she seem to want to hide the intelligence shown by her many talents and “near photographic” memory?

Theory 1: She is more interested in listening than in broadcasting. She has no need to impress others and is highly selective in choosing close friends with whom to share herself.

Theory 2: She has Impostor Syndrome. She is insecure in spite of her demonstrated competence and stays quiet because she fears that her supposed fraud will be exposed.

Theory 3: She enjoys her own company. She is naturally introverted, and uses silence to signal to others that she needs time to herself. This is perceived by others as a mysterious quality, coded in the poem by references to the moon.

The second mystery in the poem is the precise relationship between the speaker and the subject. The speaker knows the seemingly distant subject well enough to know her skills, driving habits, and how she spends her evenings at the piano. If I had to guess, I would venture that the subject is a member of the speaker’s family, possibly her mother.

Glenn

[Richard G]

Hi Susan,

I like the plain-spokenness of this and being left to wonder just how successful the narrator really was at puzzling out their own mystery.
Perhaps 'as tides are raised'?
And, maybe another moon inspired piece of music to replace Chopin?

RG.

[Jim Ramsey]

Hi Susan,

These tributes to your mother are creating a nice memorial and some good art. I have highlighted a couple places where my reading got a little bumpy, but it's probably just me. I offer a couple suggested changes off the top of my head to show what I myself would say in case they have any value to you.

All the best,
Jim

Originally Posted by Susan McLean

Unspoken

She rarely talked about herself, so I
was left to puzzle out her mystery
from meager clues: her skill at making pie, [a flaky-crusted pie]
her killer tennis serve, her memory
(near photographic). Calm and self-effacing
in public, but a whiz at bridge, she knew
intricate [the backstreet] routes and drove them fast, outracing
yellow lights. She raised five children, grew
wisteria, roses, irises, and played
piano after the kids were all in bed.
Then, waves of surging splendor rolled and swayed,
lifting my heart and flowing through my head
as tides are pulled and tumbled by the moon:
Chopin, "Moonlight Sonata," "Clair de Lune."


Revisions:
L3 "meager" was "concrete"
L7 "intricate routes and drove them fast" was "her way and drove with confidence"

[Hilary Biehl]

I really like this, Susan. It's strong throughout and the ending is particularly beautiful.

I personally like having Chopin there - although it's not the name of a specific piece of music like the others, in this context it immediately evokes (for me) his Nocturnes, which are nighttime appropriate. Also, his music fits your description nicely.

[Susan McLean]

Thanks, everyone, for your responses and suggestions.

Glenn, "Unspoken" is my intended title. I usually use a false title on the thread index to deceive any bots, though sometimes readers prefer that title, and I have been known to change to it. This is a poem about my mother. I think your first theory has elements of the truth in it, and your third theory might have a little, but I don't think the Impostor Syndrome fits her. Instead, of it, I have the theory that she was born into a time that had no use for women with many of her skills, so she adapted by switching to the skills that were acceptable for women of that time. One of my aunts, who had a similar skill set, complained all the time and was deeply unhappy about her lack of suitable career opportunities. But my mother never complained, and seemed to be happy, as far as her children could tell.

Richard, I prefer "pulled" to "raised" because the former suggests something more powerful. My mother played a lot of Chopin, so it is hard to single out one particular work.

Jim, the city she was driving through was Washington, DC, a maddeningly difficult place to drive because of its many one-way streets, but she seemed to have a map of it in her head and could navigate it unerringly. I want to keep the phrase "her skill at making pie" because I am listing her qualities, and the pie itself isn't one of those.

Hilary, yes, I could not omit Chopin, who seemed to be her favorite, judging by how often she played his works. I could not single out just one of them. I am glad that the ending works for you as I intended.

Susan

[Susan McLean]

On my sister Mary's recommendation, I have shortened the introduction to include more details.

Susan

[Julie Steiner]

(Sorry about the earlier mis-post. Blush, blush...)

Susan, I don't find quite the cohesion in this sonnet as in your previous two. Perhaps those two are damn hard acts to follow. Or perhaps it's because the turn doesn't come in the expected place, although that typically doesn't bother me, so maybe not. But that odd placement of the volta does definitely underscore for me the fact that I'm expecting a different kind of argumentative equilibrium and symmetry between what comes before the turn and what comes after. I can definitely see the contrast between vocal silence and eloquent musical expression, but you're leaving the reader to make the two counterbalance each other with less guidance than you usually provide.

Anyway, this sonnet doesn't move me quite as effectively as the previous two did. (Perhaps the effusive turn is just a touch too telly about the narrator's being swept away by the musical memory, and some part of me is resisting that? Or maybe it's just that "Then," plus the past-tense verbs in that line, don't form a sturdy enough lynchpin for the volta to swing satisfactorily into the present, which is where I think a reminiscence needs to end.)

Not sure if that reaction is helpful to know, but I offer it in case it is.

[Susan McLean]

Julie, it helps to know that the turn is not working for you. What I am trying to suggest is that the silence and control of her life on the surface gave no hint of the passionate emotion that came out in the music she played. Nothing else gave away anything of what might be going on beneath the surface. So, yes, I was moved by the music, but also astonished that my mother had that hidden beneath her surface. Anyone who does not know those particular pieces of music might miss what I am trying to suggest here, and that is a weakness in the poem. But I am also trying to suggest the emotional power that the music conveyed to me, through my metaphors. The moon here, for me, suggests my mother's isolation, but also the power of what's suppressed.

Susan

[Roger Slater]

But even before the turn, Susan, you mention her "killer tennis serve," fast driving, and outracing yellow lights, so we do have clear indications of her passionate side before you mention her piano playing. In fact, though you assert that she was "calm and self-effacing," the rest of the pre-turn description doesn't in any way paint a picture of someone all that calm or unlikely to be a passionate piano player.