I love the poem’s strong, brave assertions and authority in claiming a place for women poets in the pantheon of literary achievement.

Today’s poem, “To the Women Poets,” is also a sonnet, in this case rhymed abba cddc eeff gg, and written in iambic pentameter, five beats to the line in a mostly rising meter. The sonnet is close to Petrarchan (abba cde cde) in form and, as expected, the turn (volta) happens in the 8th line. Signaled by the word “yet,” the poem’s argument pivots from showing a history of oppression to affirming that great work will always rise and that, instead of being in short supply, women poets are amassing in mighty force. I like to think of the author reviewing the Mezzo Cammin Timeline as she composed this poem, dazzled by the variety and array of voices represented there. Even without knowing about the Timeline Project, though, we can appreciate this poem as a recognition and celebration of the work of women poets over the centuries. It begins with an exuberant call-out, “There you are, your titles grand and full,” takes the time to bear witness to historic oppression (“fame tamped down”), and emerges, triumphant and joyful, at the end. In this way, Bridgford manages to document the difficulties faced by women in the arts while praising the breadth (branching tree image) and power (avalanche image) of their work. Both personal and universal, the poem conveys a sense of each role-constrained individual (“mother / Nun, daughter, sister, friend, and wife”) and her place as part of a larger whole, a force of nature awesome as an avalanche in its power. In a sense, the first quatrain is a microcosm of the poem, embracing the “bold achievement” of poets like Anne Bradstreet (the first American poet ever to publish a book) while lamenting how that achievement has been ignored and obscured “under the gender-lighted bushel.” That last phrase is a reference to an old English proverb, “to hide one’s light under a bushel,” expressing the idea that light is a thing to be revealed and celebrated, not concealed. It generally comes up in the context of someone too modest or shy to show off their work, but here Brigford makes the point that modesty is quite often a consequence of gender and is imposed from without as well as from within.
I love the poem’s strong, brave assertions and authority in claiming a place for women poets in the pantheon of literary achievement. I also enjoy its music, communicated in the meter and end rhymes, sometimes slant (“mother” and “weather” in lines 5 and 8) and sometimes full (“names” and “claims” in the closing lines). Notice, too, the word play, as when “sequel” refers not just to successive works of literature but also to periods of history.  An especially moving example of the meaning of words opening out into something larger is line 7’s “Somehow, you, too, were poet in your life / Your fame tamped down.” That line addresses not just actual poets the author wants to call out and name but also speaks directly to each woman reader of the poem, saying that your work—whatever it is—matters, and it is appreciated.
Nobel Prize-winning writer V.S. Naipaul once said, “I read a piece of writing and within a paragraph or two I know whether it is by a woman or not. I think [it is] unequal to me.” This inferiority he attributed to “sentimentality, the narrow view of the world.”  (The Guardian, 6/2/2011) As women swell the ranks of writers recognized as great, that way of thinking is—thank God—less and less heard. Responding to Naipaul’s remarks, a friend reminds me that “within the infinitesimally tiny world of an atom exists a universe.” I agree, and think about writers like Emily Dickinson and so many others—many of them represented in this column—whose poetry so powerfully proves that the domestic lives of ordinary women can be legitimate subjects for and otherwise fuel great art. In these uncertain times and this month especially, let’s raise a glass “To the Women Poets,” remembering our foremothers and their struggles for rights that we, thus far, have had the luxury to take for granted
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