Line 3 tells us that Penelope cried frequently
and then emphasizes the difficulty or impossibility
of weaving all day, with the action now being
attributed to a second-person ‘‘you.’’ The enjamb-
ment, or running on of the line, extends the
thought to the next line. The poem gives the effect,
through repetition of alternating long and short
lines, of what weaving feels like. The speaker is
weaving her thoughts as rhythmically as Penelope
would throw the shuttle.
Line 4 explains the fatigue brought about
when one weaves in the day and has to spend all
night undoing it again. This refers to what Penelope
did during her trying circumstances in the absence
of her husband. While Ulysses was off getting glory
and fame in the Trojan War, Penelope had to take
care of their little son, Telemachus, as well as Ulys-
ses’s parents and the whole island of Ithaca, of
which Ulysses was king. After her husband did
not return on time from the war, other men began
to pursue Penelope, wanting to marry her and take
over the throne. She not only refused them and
heroically waited for her husband but also wanted
to protect the throne for her son. Like Ulysses,
Penelope was clever and used tricks to survive.
She told the suitors that she would choose a new
husband only after weaving a shroud for her father-
in-law, Laertes. They would see her weaving in the
day, but she would undo it by night, so as not to
finish. The speaker here identifies Penelope’s ruse
as a symbol of women’s work in general by using
the second-person pronoun ‘‘you,’’ meaning any-
one, or perhaps any woman. Aside from being
hard, women’s work often feels fruitless, repetitive,
and hopeless.
Line 5 begins to build tension by telling how
fatigue is experienced in the sore arms and tight
neck. The concrete details remind the reader of
what repetitive work feels like and of the worry
that accompanies frustration and grief. It is a phys-
ical battle in a different way than war is. The long,
swinging rhythms of the uneven five-stress lines
continue to imitate the movements of weaving,
while the stressed rhymes at the ends of lines 4, 5,
and 6 suggest the counterrhythm of shortened and
tensed muscles.
Line 6 increases the tension by adding more
details. One breaks down by having to go on
without rest or change. In being up all night
under strain, one thinks the morning will never
come. Even if the dawn is nearing, it is still dark,
and it is hard to imagine light at the darkest point
of night. Despair is natural under such circum-
stances. The repetition of the conjunction at the
beginning of lines 3, 4, 6, and 7 allows for the
adding of more and more reasons for Penelope’s
breaking down in a rhythmic recurrence, like
with a loom that will not stop.
Line 7 builds toward the emotional breaking
point, as it reveals the main reason for grief. The
husband (Ulysses or the speaker’s or ‘‘your’’
loved one) is gone. There is no helpmate or sup-
port in the difficult situation. Penelope did not
know if her husband was dead or alive or whether
she was doing right to wait. The speaker implies,
by using Penelope as a mask or mirror for her
own emotions, that she feels deserted in some
way, though she does not specify the circumstan-
ces. It could be a physical desertion, like Ulysses’,
or emotional distance. In any case, the one left
behind feels alone and overwhelmed.
In line 8, a short, three-stress line, the break-
ing point is reached: the subject being spoken of
or to bursts into tears. The building of the longer
lines as followed by the sudden release in a short
line with the image of tears makes the reader feel
the inevitability of the expression of grief, no
matter how strong the person has been so far.
Line 9 is another three-stress line, with a
different effect. This line replicates the quies-
cence achieved after a letting go. One could not
MEDIA
ADAPTATIONS
Five American Women: Gertrude Stein, H. D.,
Edna St. Vincent Millay, Louise Bogan, Mur-
iel Rukeyser(2001), part of the Voice of the
Poet Series, by Random House Audio, is a
recording of the poets reading their own
poetry. Paper text of the poems with com-
mentary by editor J. D. McClatchy accom-
panies the cassettes.
Millay at Steepletopis a 1968 documentary
filmed at Millay’s home in Austerlitz, New
York, directed by Kevin Brownlow, includ-
ing readings of poems, archival footage, and
an interview with Millay’s sister Norma.
An Ancient Gesture