Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Authorial Distance in Hemans' "Indian Woman's Death Song"

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My first impression of Felicia Hemans’ “Indian Woman’s Death Song” had a great deal to do with the number of epigraphs and introductions. It seems like one doesn’t need so many unless one is defending something or hiding behind them. Further, the two epigraphs don’t bring much to the poem, simply restate sentiments that already exist there. The epigraph in French from Bride of Messina translates to “No, I can’t live with a broken heart. I must retrieve my happiness, and be reunited with the spirits of the air.” The entire poem is about how she cannot live any longer and will find happiness in the afterlife, so why does this need to be restated? (However, in Bride of Messina, interestingly enough, the male protagonist finds his brother with the woman he loves, kills his brother, and then kills himself. Perhaps she is saying something there?)

The other epigraph is about the tragic life of women, but this sentiment is stated quite clearly in the second to last stanza, where the Indian woman addresses her daughter who is “born, like me, for a woman’s weary lot” (36). The introduction may be the only part of this buildup necessary, if only to give credit for the source of the story. The story itself is clear.

These introductory statements seem to distance the poet from the work. Citing all these other sources seem to say, “well these aren’t my ideas, don’t judge me,” as if the author didn’t want to be accused of identifying with the subject of the story. This may be a bit of a leap, but this buildup throws suspicion onto an already suspicious poem (in terms of exploiting another culture for poetic uses).

However, formally and aesthetically the poem works well in many ways. For one, I like the way Hemans sets the scene – this exposition does not rhyme but rhythmically works to quicken the pace of the poem as the canoe speeds down the river. As the current carries the canoe, so this current carries the rest of the poem, even when the meter changes. The speed is fearful, but the woman fearless and light, like the “leaf-like” canoe (5). The natural imagery, too, is stunning, particularly the way the woman describes her face as having “faded from his soul, as fades a moonbeam’s trace” (21). She, leaf-like, moon-like, and one with the stream, unites with the natural world around her as she heads toward the waterfall and toward transcendence. Her repeated entreaties to the stream also show her fearlessness – she is not passive in this ride. She appeals to something larger and more powerful than both herself and the man that has wronged her to take her and her child elsewhere. This refrain does not seem so much like a plea, however, but more like an invocation, as nature here is complicit rather than indifferent.


Although the poem contains beautiful imagery and a compelling rhythm and cadence, there are aspects of the poem that prevent it from being as evocative as it could be, namely the distance created by the introduction, epigraphs, and third-party narrator, as well as the use of a different culture to express a sentiment perhaps not acceptable in the poet’s own. I think ultimately it is a ‘write what you know’ situation, or at least do your research.

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