Risk it all on one throw, I tell
myself
“Home is the place we leave”
Marriage here is presented as undesirable yet inescapable, a goal for
which women nonetheless scheme like “single-minded snares.”
Lacking any illusions, the sisters seek to press whatever advantage
they have, in order to make the best out of a bad situation. The sisters’
efforts to present attractive and feminine exteriors mask their resent-
ment and their fierceness: “But I mean to make mischief, I’m cruel at
heart / Keeping up a good daughter’s sweet-tempered appearance.”
More of their true natures come out in the female realm of night,
where they are sexually mature and cast a jaded eye on the platitudes
associated with marriage: “In the night, we women are like ripe
melons about to fall from the vine / Conjugal bliss, et cetera.” The cyn-
icism of the voice and the narrator’s distrust of pleasant appearances
are indicative of her disillusionment and reminiscent of Plath (in
whose work smiles almost always masked ill intentions).
For all of her inner resources, the narrator of this poem is trapped
in antiquated traditions. Marriage remains the focal point of choosing
a mate, although the reality of marriage will be disheartening.
The newlyweds will not like what they see on their wedding night.
Fatalistically, the narrator speaks of risking everything on “one
throw”—marriage—a gamble whose outcome she cannot hope to
control.
Images of matchmakers and marriage recur in other poems in the
cycle, including “The Schemes of Summer” 天的阴Á(Zhai 1994:
83–84) where the image of a bridegroom is juxtaposed with images of
cold, poison, death, and enemies. In this poem, as in “The Black
Room,” the previously sacrosanct night has been invaded by cruel cats
who prey on terrified mice. Sleep, with its restorative powers, is
impossible.
“Here and Now” ÂH(Zhai 1994: 91–92) confronts the
prospects awaiting a woman who does not marry:
Living in the world, with no
在,
P
女
sons or daughters 天天成ÄÅÆ 的ÇÈ
Day in, day out, more damage done ÉÊËÌÍ2恶
Loyal yet loathsome the mirror Ï向我
Faces me 升Ò天
NÓ妇的ÔqÂH
A natural-born widow’s moment
is here
The Poetry of Zhai Yongming and Xia Yu 109