'The Cleaving' by Li-Young Lee

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He gossips like my grandmother, this man
with my face, and I could stand
amused all afternoon
in the Hon Kee Grocery,
amid hanging meats he
chops: roast pork cut
from a hog hung
by nose and shoulders,
her entire skin burnt
crisp, flesh I know
to be sweet,
her shining
face grinning
up at ducks
dangling single file,
each pierced by black
hooks through breast, bill,
and steaming from a hole
stitched shut at the ass,
I step to the counter, recite,
and he, without even slightly
varying the rhythm of his current confession or harangue,
scribbles my order on a greasy receipt,
and chops it up quick.Such a sorrowful Chinese face,
nomad, Gobi, Northern
in its boniness
clear from the high
warlike forehead
to the sheer edge of the jaw.
He could be my brother, but finer,
and, except for his left forearm, which is engorged,
sinewy from his daily grip and
wield of a two-pound tool,
he's delicate, narrow-
waisted, his frame
so slight a lover, some
rough other
might break it down
its smooth, oily length.
In his light-handed calligraphy
on receipts and in his
moodiness, he is
a Southerner from a river-province;
suited for scholarship, his face poised
above an open book, he'd mumble
his favorite passages.
He could be my grandfather;
come to America to get a Western education
in 1917, but too homesick to study,
he sits in the park all day, reading poems
and writing letters to his mother.He lops the head off, chops
the neck of the duck
into six, slits
the body
open, groin
to breast, and drains
the scalding juices,
then quarters the carcass
with two fast hacks of the cleaver,
old blade that has worn
into the surface of the round
foot-thick chop-block
a scoop that cradles precisely the curved steel.The head, flung from the body, opens
down the middle where the butcher
cleanly halved it between
the eyes, and I
see, foetal-crouched
inside the skull, the homunculus,
gray brain grainy
to eat.
Did this animal, after all, at the moment
its neck broke,
image the way his executionershrinks from his own death?
Is this how
I, too, recoil from my day?
See how this shape
hordes itself, see how
little it is.
See its grease on the blade.
Is this how I'll be found
when judgement is passed, when names
are called, when crimes are tallied?
This is also how I looked before I tore my mother open.
Is this how I presided over my century, is this how
I regarded the murders?
This is also how I prayed.
Was it me in the Other
I prayed to when I prayed?
This too was how I slept, clutching my wife.
Was it me in the other I loved
when I loved another?
The butcher sees me eye this delicacy.
With a finger, he picks it
out of the skull-cradle
and offers it to me.
I take it gingerly between my fingers
and suck it down.
I eat my man.The noise the body makes
when the body meets
the soul over the soul's ocean and penumbra
is the old sound of up-and-down, in-and-out,
a lump of muscle chug-chugging blood
into the ear; a lover's
heart-shaped tongue;
flesh rocking flesh until flesh comes;
the butcher working
at his block and blade to marry their shapes
by violence and time;
an engine crossing,
re-crossing salt water, hauling
immigrants and the junk
of the poor. These
are the faces I love, the bodies
and scents of bodiesfor which I long
in various ways, at various times,
thirteen gathered around the redwood,
happy, talkative, voracious
at day's end,
eager to eat
four kinds of meat
prepared four different ways,
numerous plates and bowls of rice and vegetables,
each made by distinct affections
and brought to table by many hands.Brothers and sisters by blood and design,
who sit in separate bodies of varied shapes,
we constitute a many-membered
body of love.
In a world of shapes
of my desires, each one here
is a shape of one of my desires, and each
is known to me and dear by virtue
of each one's unique corruption
of those texts, the face, the body:
that jut jaw
to gnash tendon;
that wide nose to meet the blows
a face like that invites;
those long eyes closing on the seen;
those thick lips
to suck the meat of animals
or recite 300 poems of the T'ang;
these teeth to bite my monosyllables;
these cheekbones to make
those syllables sing the soul.
Puffed or sunken
according to the life,
dark or light according
to the birth, straight
or humped, whole, manqué, quasi, each pleases, verging
on utter grotesquery.
All are beautiful by variety.
The soul too
is a debasement
of a text, but, thus, it
acquires salience, although ahuman salience, but
inimitable, and, hence, memorable.
God is the text.
The soul is a corruption
and a mnemonic.A bright moment,
I hold up an old head
from the sea and admire the haughty
down-curved mouth
that seems to disdain
all the eyes are blind to,
including me, the eater.
Whole unto itself, complete
without me, yet its
shape complements the shape of my mind.
I take it as text and evidence
of the world's love for me,
and I feel urged to utterance,
urged to read the body of the world, urged
to say it
in human terms,
my reading a kind of eating, my eating
a kind of reading,
my saying a diminishment, my noise
a love-in-answer.
What is it in me woulddevour the world to utter it?
What is it in me will not let
the world be, would eat
not just this fish,
but the one who killed it,
the butcher who cleaned it.
I would eat the way he
squats, the way he
reaches into the plastic tubs
and pulls out a fish, clubs it, takes it
to the sink, guts it, drops it on the weighing pan.
I would eat that thrash
and plunge of the watery body
in the water, that liquid violence
between the man's hands,
I would eatthe gutless twitching on the scales,
three pounds of dumb
nerve and pulse, I would eat it all
to utter it.
The deaths at the sinks, those bodies prepared
for eating, I would eat,
and the standing deaths
at the counters, in the aisles,
the walking deaths in the streets,
the death-far-from-home, the death-
in-a-strange-land, these Chinatown
deaths, these American deaths.
I would devour this race to sing it,
this race that according to Emerson

Editor 1 Interpretation

The Cleaving: An Exploration of Love and Loss

I must confess: as an avid reader and lover of poetry, I have always found myself drawn to works that capture the complexities of human emotion. And in my search for such works, I stumbled upon Li-Young Lee's "The Cleaving" - a hauntingly beautiful poem that delves deep into the themes of love and loss.

At its core, "The Cleaving" is a tale of two lovers torn apart by circumstance and distance. The poem opens with a description of a woman's hands - delicate and graceful, yet "scarred by many knives." This juxtaposition of beauty and pain sets the tone for the rest of the poem, as Lee masterfully weaves together images of tenderness and violence.

Throughout the poem, the speaker reflects on memories of his beloved - their moments of intimacy and joy, as well as the heartache of separation. He describes his longing for her, saying, "I want to go where you are, / to find you ... / to touch you and to cleave your body to me." This desire to be reunited with his lover is palpable and raw, and it resonates deeply with anyone who has experienced the pain of separation.

But what sets "The Cleaving" apart from other poems about lost love is the way in which Lee explores the physical and emotional aspects of intimacy. He describes the lovers' bodies as "two halves of a split fruit," and their love-making as a "holy cleaving." This language is both sensual and spiritual, suggesting that their connection transcends the physical realm.

However, Lee also acknowledges the pain and vulnerability that comes with such intimacy. He writes, "We must mutilate the one body / to enter the other's kingdom." This line is particularly striking, as it highlights the sacrifice and selflessness required for true intimacy. In order to fully merge with another person, we must be willing to let go of our own individuality and become vulnerable.

Throughout the poem, Lee also interweaves religious imagery and references to nature. He describes the lovers as "Adam and Eve" and references the biblical story of the Garden of Eden. This allusion to the creation story adds a layer of depth and meaning to the poem, suggesting that the love between these two individuals is both natural and divine.

The final stanza of the poem is particularly poignant, as Lee describes the lovers' separation as a "cleaving of two things / grown together." This image of something being forcibly torn apart is both brutal and beautiful, and it captures the essence of the poem as a whole. Love is a force that can bind us together, but it can also tear us apart.

In conclusion, "The Cleaving" is a masterpiece of modern poetry. Through its vivid imagery and raw emotion, Li-Young Lee captures the complexities of love and loss in a way that is both timeless and universal. As readers, we are invited into the intimate world of two lovers, and we are left with a profound sense of both joy and sorrow. This is the power of poetry - to capture the essence of the human experience in a way that is both profound and beautiful.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

Poetry has the power to evoke emotions and stir the soul. One such poem that has the ability to do so is "The Cleaving" by Li-Young Lee. This poem is a beautiful and poignant piece that explores the themes of love, loss, and the human experience. In this analysis, we will delve deeper into the poem and explore its meaning and significance.

"The Cleaving" is a poem that is divided into two parts. The first part of the poem describes the speaker's experience of love and the second part describes the loss of that love. The poem begins with the speaker describing his love for his partner. He talks about how he and his partner are "two trees growing together" and how their love is like a "cleaving" or a joining together of two things.

The use of the metaphor of two trees growing together is a powerful image that conveys the idea of two people growing and developing together in a relationship. The use of the word "cleaving" is also significant as it suggests a strong bond between the two people. The word "cleaving" is often used in the context of cutting or separating, but in this poem, it is used to describe the joining together of two things.

The second part of the poem describes the loss of the speaker's love. He talks about how his partner has left him and how he is now alone. He describes the pain and emptiness that he feels and how he longs for his partner to return. The use of the metaphor of the "empty house" is particularly powerful as it conveys the idea of a space that is devoid of life and love.

The poem ends with the speaker talking about how he still loves his partner and how he will always love her. He talks about how their love was like a "cleaving" and how it will always be a part of him. The use of the word "cleaving" in this context is significant as it suggests that even though the speaker has lost his love, he still feels a strong bond with his partner.

One of the most striking aspects of this poem is the use of imagery. The use of metaphors and similes throughout the poem creates a vivid and powerful image of the speaker's experience of love and loss. The use of the metaphor of two trees growing together is particularly effective as it conveys the idea of two people growing and developing together in a relationship.

The use of repetition is also significant in this poem. The repetition of the word "cleaving" throughout the poem creates a sense of continuity and connection between the two parts of the poem. It also reinforces the idea of a strong bond between the two people.

Another important aspect of this poem is the use of language. The language used in the poem is simple and direct, yet it is also poetic and evocative. The use of short, simple sentences creates a sense of immediacy and urgency, while the use of poetic language creates a sense of beauty and depth.

In conclusion, "The Cleaving" is a beautiful and poignant poem that explores the themes of love, loss, and the human experience. The use of imagery, repetition, and language creates a vivid and powerful image of the speaker's experience of love and loss. The poem is a testament to the power of poetry to evoke emotions and stir the soul.

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