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| Edgar Degas |
Old Smoothing Iron
Often I watched her lift it
from where its compact wedge
rode the back of the stove
like a tug at anchor.
To test its heat by ear
she spat in its iron face
or held it up next her cheek
to divine the stored danger.
Soft thumps on the ironing board.
Her dimpled angled elbow
and intent stoop
as she aimed the smoothing iron
like a plane into linen
like the resentment of women
To work, her dumb lunge says,
is to move a certain mass
through a certain distance,
is to pull your weight and feel
exact and equal to it.
Feel dragged upon. And buoyant.
Seamus Heaney
Seamus, Seamus, your poems fill me with such affection. Who is this woman you observed at her work? A mother, a sister, a wife? It doesn't matter who, I suppose. What does matter is that you saw it, and it stayed with you. Here's a woman working - and you are not insensitive to what that work demands. I like that "the resentment of women", it's so true, in household work there is a tinge (and sometimes more), an undercurrent of self-sacrifice. It's personal work, after all, for people who often need more than one can give. And yet, it's personal work, the work at the heart of the universe, the work that takes the most, the work that Seamus shows has gravity, but in it's own peculiar way, elevates. That last line is remarkable - "To work...is to pull your weight and feel exact and equal to it. Feel dragged upon. And buoyant." Words to think on.
Seamus, Seamus, your poems fill me with such affection. Who is this woman you observed at her work? A mother, a sister, a wife? It doesn't matter who, I suppose. What does matter is that you saw it, and it stayed with you. Here's a woman working - and you are not insensitive to what that work demands. I like that "the resentment of women", it's so true, in household work there is a tinge (and sometimes more), an undercurrent of self-sacrifice. It's personal work, after all, for people who often need more than one can give. And yet, it's personal work, the work at the heart of the universe, the work that takes the most, the work that Seamus shows has gravity, but in it's own peculiar way, elevates. That last line is remarkable - "To work...is to pull your weight and feel exact and equal to it. Feel dragged upon. And buoyant." Words to think on.
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