there are people who live in prejudice, who view
others practically like cockroaches, but the
wrongness of this is so universally accepted that
a poem that stands up to that kind of prejudice
can seem patronizing and self-congratulatory.
In the context of modern race relations,
Rukeyser’s poem actually serves to promote the
sort of narrowed thinking that it is trying to
fight. The problem stems from the poet’s audac-
ity in speaking up for the disenfranchised: in
1976, that might have been a good and necessary
strategy, but more and more over the decades
society has learned to let those who have been
denied a voice tell their own fascinating stories
and speak from their own perspectives. In fact,
this can be read as a victory for the position
taken in ‘‘St. Roach,’’ since it is a sign that people
have overcome fears of other races and are inter-
estedinpayingattentionto those who are unfami-
liar. But now that the stranglehold of traditional
white culture, which prevailed into the 1970s, has
been broken, the obvious question arises: Who
would approve of equating oppressed minorities
with cockroaches? Certainly members of those
oppressed minorities would not.
So it may seem that time has drained
‘‘St. Roach’’ of its relevance. It is indeed less
culturally significant than it was when Rukeyser
was calling for white culture to heed, not fear,
the stories of others; her argument is already
generally accepted. But there still is the structure
to consider. ‘‘St. Roach’’ is a poem, and its argu-
ment is therefore put on the page in a specific
form. Although the poem steers away from the
formal elements already listed, that does not
mean that it does not have a structure, only
that it has a structure that is unique unto itself.
As it lays on the page, the poem seems to lack
order, with new ideas being introduced accord-
ing to the author’s whim. Looking at elements
out of order, though, makes Rukeyser’s design a
little more evident.
The clearest shift in focus takes place in line- Up to this point, ‘‘St. Roach’’ has been an
expression of a situation—an attitude, expressed
in general terms with a few specific details tossed
in here and there. As soon as Rukeyser mentions
a specific point in time, however, the poem turns
into a story of particular events happening in
particular places at particular times. This story
even has progression, as good stories do. First it
talks about what happened yesterday, and then
it tells about today. Instead of simply feeling
sorry about the circumstances as they exist, as
they have been made to do in the first part, read-
ers are drawn into the narrative. They are invited
to free themselves of their learned prejudices by
watching what happens when the poet does just
that. The poem ends on an uplifting note, with a
triumphant act of self-liberation on the part of
the speaker.
This last section, from line 23 to line 31,
spans nine lines—just under one-third of the
poem. This could just be the amount of space
Rukeyser wished to devote to completing this
train of thought, but it could also be a sign of
the poem’s overall structure. If this one-third is
part of consistent design, then the remaining
two-thirds should divide equally, or nearly
equally, into sections of one-third each.
That in fact turns out to be the case. The first
part of the poem, starting with the first line,
maintains a consistency of style and theme until
line 11. In this part, the lines are long, so much so
that over half are divided by commas. The long
lines are necessary because this introductory sec-
tion deals with the complexities of the speaker’s
feelings. The tone is one of anger or resentment,
set by the use of powerful words.
The second third of the poem, from lines 13
to 22, is marked by a different tone and a differ-
ent style. The subject matter remains the speak-
er’s dismay at having been made to think that
those unlike her are her enemies, but the focus
here is on what she has missed out on, the aspects
of other cultures that she has been taught to
ignore. The tone is one of sadness and regret.
To show this, the lines are not nearly as complex;
for the most part, they are short and direct.
When Rukeyser does see fit to extend a thought,
she breaks it apart so that each clause is a sepa-
rate line, as in lines 17 through 20. This section of
the poem, again roughly a third of its length, has
its own identity, as much as the other two sec-
tions have.
This subtle three-part structure is significant
for readers who might be inclined to think too
little of Rukeyser’s skill as an artist. The emphasis
of her work has always been the message con-
veyed; the human aspect is given precedence
over literary device or wordplay. A poet’s being
so often associated with the messages of her
poems should be seen as a credit to her skills as
a poet, such as with Rukeyser. But because of
this, there is the temptation, when studying a
poem like ‘‘St. Roach,’’ to feel that the work’sSt. Roach