Patterns (III B.A English)

"Patterns"

I walk down the garden paths,

And all the daffodils

Are blowing, and the bright blue squills.   

I walk down the patterned garden paths   

In my stiff, brocaded gown.

With my powdered hair and jewelled fan,   

I too am a rare

Pattern. As I wander down

The garden paths.

My dress is richly figured,   

And the train

Makes a pink and silver stain   

On the gravel, and the thrift   

Of the borders.

Just a plate of current fashion,

Tripping by in high-heeled, ribboned shoes.

Not a softness anywhere about me,   

Only whale-bone and brocade.   

And I sink on a seat in the shade   

Of a lime tree. For my passion   

Wars against the stiff brocade.   

The daffodils and squills

Flutter in the breeze

As they please.

And I weep;

For the lime tree is in blossom

And one small flower has dropped upon my bosom.

And the splashing of waterdrops   

In the marble fountain

Comes down the garden paths.   

The dripping never stops.   

Underneath my stiffened gown

Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin,

A basin in the midst of hedges grown

So thick, she cannot see her lover hiding,

But she guesses he is near,

And the sliding of the water

Seems the stroking of a dear

Hand upon her.

What is Summer in a fine brocaded gown!

I should like to see it lying in a heap upon the ground.   

All the pink and silver crumpled up on the ground.

I would be the pink and silver as I ran along the paths,   

And he would stumble after,

Bewildered by my laughter.

I should see the sun flashing from his sword-hilt and the buckles on his shoes.

I would choose

To lead him in a maze along the patterned paths,

A bright and laughing maze for my heavy-booted lover,   

Till he caught me in the shade,

And the buttons of his waistcoat bruised my body as he clasped me,

Aching, melting, unafraid.

With the shadows of the leaves and the sundrops,   

And the plopping of the waterdrops,

All about us in the open afternoon

I am very like to swoon

With the weight of this brocade,

For the sun sifts through the shade.

Underneath the fallen blossom

In my bosom,

Is a letter I have hid.

It was brought to me this morning by a rider from the Duke.   

“Madam, we regret to inform you that Lord Hartwell   

Died in action Thursday sen’night.”

As I read it in the white, morning sunlight,

The letters squirmed like snakes.

“Any answer, Madam,” said my footman.

“No,” l told him.

“See that the messenger takes some refreshment.

No, no answer.”

And I walked into the garden,

Up and down the patterned paths,

In my stiff, correct brocade.

The blue and yellow flowers stood up proudly in the sun,   

Each one.

I stood upright too,

Held rigid to the pattern

By the stiffness of my gown.   

Up and down I walked,   

Up and down.

In a month he would have been my husband.   

In a month, here, underneath this lime,   

We would have broke the pattern;

He for me, and I for him,

He as Colonel, I as Lady,

On this shady seat.

He had a whim

That sunlight carried blessing.

And I answered, “It shall be as you have said.”   

Now he is dead.

In Summer and in Winter I shall walk

Up and down

The patterned garden paths   

In my stiff, brocaded gown.   

The squills and daffodils

Will give place to pillared roses, and to asters, and to snow.   

I shall go

Up and down,

In my gown.

Gorgeously arrayed,

Boned and stayed.

And the softness of my body will be guarded from embrace   

By each button, hook, and lace.

For the man who should loose me is dead,

Fighting with the Duke in Flanders,

In a pattern called a war.

Christ! What are patterns for?

Critical Analysis of Amy Lowell's "Patterns"

Breaking the "Patterned" Mold

When one hears the words, " I sink on a seat in the shade," they will most likely form a visual image in their head, such as a person sitting under a tree. Amy Lowell, an imagist, uses sharp images, precise wording, and figurative speech as a means of poetic expression to arouse the senses of the reader. In "Patterns," Amy Lowell explores the hopeful liberty of women in the early 20th century through a central theme. A woman’s dream of escaping the boundaries that society has placed on her dissipates when she learns of her lover’s untimely death. Of the many images in this poem, the constant motions of the flowers and water drops, the dress the woman is wearing, and her daydreams of her lover are most crucial in developing this theme of freedom.

In the beginning of the poem, as well as throughout the work, the speaker describes daffodils and other types of flowers moving freely in the wind. Using imagery to appeal to the reader’s sense of sight, these flowers are given motion, and they are described as, "…blowing," and "Flutter[ing] in the breeze,". This creates a sense of freedom and flexibility. The woman in the poem, presumably Amy, wishes to be like the moving flowers, carefree and jaunty. In the second stanza of the poem, the woman begins to describe the water in the marble fountain. The, "…plashing of water drops," and, "…plopping of the water drops," describe liquid in motion. The fact that she notices such little details in a fountain shows how intent the woman is on being free and able to move about as she pleases. The unconstrained movement of the flowers and the water manifest a way of life that the woman would like to live. What is keeping her from the liberation that she longs for?

The images in the poem name the binding dress as the culprit, but upon reading deeper into the signs of the imagery, one will find that there is a more complicated reason for her misery. The "…stiff, brocaded gown" is mentioned many times throughout the poem. Of course, back in that time, the woman was not only in a rigid, uncomfortable dress in the heat of summer, but she was also most likely wearing a corset. The Random House Webster’s College Dictionary gives the definition of brocaded as, "a fabric woven with an elaborate raised design, often using gold or silver thread." This stiff, imprisoning piece of clothing symbolizes the boundaries that society has placed on women during their time. They had to act properly, look nice, and uphold all standards—especially if they were to be courted and married to a respectable man. The description of the train on the woman’s dress also has specific imagery. The woman talks about how, "…the train/ Makes a pink and silver stain/ On the gravel," The first image a person gets in their head is one of a train on a dress dragging across the gravel and leaving behind colours of pink and silver. This metaphor, however, has some underlying meaning, and symbolizes the "training" that she received to act properly as a lady. This training leaves behind a blemish, or stain, of high order (pink) and eloquence (silver) that she merely knows how to uphold, and does not want to be a part of her true self. She feels that learning the way the public wants her to act and look has somehow hindered her true being. Although it was torturous for the woman to stay within all of society’s stan-dards, she complied only because she knew that her lover held the key to the lock on her liberation. In marrying him, she felt as though she would be set free to make her own decisions. The woman thought that he would allow her to lead him down the many paths in their lives. 

Next, she talks about how it will be when her lover returns to her. She would, "… run along the paths/ And he would stumble after," and also, "…choose/ To lead him in a maze along the patterned paths". These lines show how the presence of her lover allows her to lead him, thereby breaking free from the boundaries held on her. She is also running through a maze, not walking along the paths. This shows that she is no longer doing what others have done and have told her to do, but she is creating her own path and displaying free will. This imagery is used to show that in her future with this man, she will not have to live her life the way others have patterned it out for her. Through his love for her, she will be allowed to break the mold and be her own person. Unfortunately, her lover dies at war and she is back to where she began, wearing a stiff dress, following the paths already made, and waiting for another man to come along to rescue her from this prison cell.

I wonder what became of this woman in the poem. I hope that she finally found another love to rescue her from the confines of tradition. I am truly grateful that I live in a world today where people aren’t oppressed as they were back in the 1800s- early 1900s. It must have been discouraging to know that a woman’s happiness and freedom in life depends on what a man will allow you to have, and it really took a strong woman to overcome the injustice shown to them. From Amy Lowell’s poetry, I can tell that she had a passion to change women’s lives. The way she describes the free movement of flowers blowing in the wind and contrasting it with an image of a stiff, brocaded gown really helps you to understand how she is feeling. Unfortunately, she had to continue with her "patterned" way of life for longer than she hoped. I, on the other hand, am free to chose my own path, or make up a new one.