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Listen, children:
Your father is dead.
From his old coats
I’ll make you little jackets;
I’ll make you little trousers
From his old pants.
There’ll be in his pockets
Things he used to put there,
Keys and pennies
Covered with tobacco;
Dan shall have the pennies
To save in his bank;
Anne shall have the keys
To make a pretty noise with.
Life must go on,
And the dead be forgotten;
Life must go on,
Though good men die;
Anne, eat your breakfast;
Dan, take your medicine;
Life must go on;
I forget just why.
Edna St. Vincent Millay’s Lament is a piercing exploration of grief, societal expectation, and the dissonance between performative resilience and internal desolation. Written in 1921 and included in her collection Second April, the poem distills the complexities of mourning into a stark, domestic tableau. Through its deceptively simple structure and layered imagery, Millay interrogates the cultural scripts imposed on women in the aftermath of loss, revealing the quiet violence of composure.
Millay composed Lament during the post-World War I era, a period marked by collective trauma and shifting gender norms. The poem’s focus on a widow’s pragmatic response to death reflects the societal pressure on women to suppress personal grief for the sake of familial stability. The early 20th century idealized the “Angel in the House” archetype-a self-sacrificing, emotionally restrained figure-and the mother in Lament embodies this role, channeling her sorrow into utilitarian acts like repurposing her husband’s clothing1012. The poem’s opening imperative, “Listen, children: / Your father is dead,” strips death of euphemism, mirroring the blunt realities faced by war-era families stripped of sentimental comforts.
Millay, a feminist and bohemian figure, often critiqued such expectations. Her portrayal of the widow’s mechanical distribution of the father’s possessions (“Keys and pennies / Covered with tobacco”) underscores the commodification of grief in a society prioritizing productivity over emotional honesty812. The children’s roles-Dan saving pennies, Anne jingling keys-mirror gendered socialization, with the mother perpetuating cycles of stoicism. This aligns with Millay’s broader critique of patriarchal structures, evident in works like The Ballad of the Harp-Weaver, where maternal labor becomes both sustenance and suffocation512.
1. Enjambment and Fragmentation
The poem’s lack of punctuation and frequent enjambment create a breathless, chaotic rhythm, mimicking the widow’s psychological fragmentation. Lines like “Life must go on, / And the dead be forgotten; / Life must go on, / Though good men die” spill into one another, evoking the relentless march of domestic duties that stifle mourning710. The absence of stanza breaks mirrors the suffocating continuity of “life going on,” denying the widow-and the reader-a moment of respite.
2. Symbolism and Transformation
The transformation of the father’s clothing into children’s garments serves as a metaphor for erasure and legacy. By sewing “little jackets” and “little trousers,” the widow physically dismantles her husband’s identity, repurposing his absence into something functional. The pockets’ remnants-keys and pennies-symbolize fragmented memory: Dan’s savings suggest frugality and future-oriented pragmatism, while Anne’s keys, tools for “a pretty noise,” trivialize the father’s daily rituals into child’s play1011. This duality reflects the conflict between preserving memory and surrendering to oblivion.
3. Repetition and Irony
The refrain “Life must go on” becomes increasingly hollow, culminating in the devastating admission: “I forget just why.” This repetition mirrors societal mantras about resilience, yet its mechanical delivery-interrupted by mundane directives like “Anne, eat your breakfast”-underscores the irony of performative normalcy1011. The widow’s inability to articulate purpose (“I forget just why”) lays bare the absurdity of enduring grief without catharsis.
1. The Performativity of Grief
The poem critiques the expectation that mourners, particularly women, prioritize practicality over emotional authenticity. The widow’s focus on sartorial labor and child-rearing tasks (“Dan, take your medicine”) acts as a shield against vulnerability, a performance of control in the face of collapse1012. Millay, who navigated her own conflicts between societal norms and personal liberation, frames this performativity as both survival strategy and spiritual erosion.
2. The Erasure of Identity
The father’s absence is rendered palpable through his fragmented belongings. His coats, once a marker of presence, are disassembled; his pockets, once filled with personal effects, become relics devoid of context. This erasure parallels Millay’s broader exploration of identity dissolution in works like “What lips my lips have kissed”, where loss is both personal and existential58.
3. Existential Absurdity
The poem’s closing lines-“Life must go on; / I forget just why”-resonate with existential futility. The widow’s acknowledgment of life’s meaningless continuity echoes Camus’ philosophy of the absurd, where routine persists despite the absence of inherent purpose1011. Millay, however, roots this abstraction in the domestic sphere, rendering it visceral through the lens of maternal duty.
Millay’s life informs the poem’s tension between duty and autonomy. Raised by a single mother who worked as a nurse, Millay witnessed firsthand the burdens placed on women to sustain households amid scarcity212. The widow’s pragmatic grief mirrors Cora Millay’s resilience, yet the poem’s subtextual despair aligns with Edna’s documented struggles with emotional and physical exhaustion812.
As a bisexual woman in a polyamorous marriage, Millay defied traditional roles, yet Lament reveals her acute awareness of their constraints. The widow’s entrapment within domesticity contrasts with Millay’s own life, where she balanced marriage with artistic independence38. This duality underscores the poem’s critique of societal expectations, positioning the widow as both victim and enforcer of patriarchal norms.
Lament resonates through its unflinching portrayal of silent suffering. The widow’s stoicism-devoid of tears or lamentation-invites readers to confront the loneliness of grief performed in isolation. Millay’s decision to omit the father’s name or cause of death universalizes the experience, rendering the poem a mirror for anyone who has compartmentalized pain to meet societal demands.
The poem’s enduring relevance lies in its dismantling of the “strong woman” archetype, revealing the cost of conflating resilience with emotional suppression. In an era increasingly attentive to mental health, Lament serves as a prescient critique of cultures that prioritize productivity over healing.
Lament is a masterclass in emotional minimalism, its sparse lines heavy with unspoken anguish. Millay transforms the domestic into the existential, using the widow’s ritualized grief to interrogate broader themes of identity, duty, and futility. The poem’s power lies not in what is said, but in what is withheld-the scream beneath the sewing machine’s hum, the void behind the mantra “Life must go on.” In laying bare the paradox of survival, Millay grants voice to the silent fractures of the human spirit, ensuring that even in forgetting “just why,” we remember.123578101112
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