'The Story Of Our Lives' by Mark Strand

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1
We are reading the story of our lives
which takes place in a room.
The room looks out on a street.
There is no one there,
no sound of anything.
The tress are heavy with leaves,
the parked cars never move.
We keep turning the pages, hoping for something,
something like mercy or change,
a black line that would bind us
or keep us apart.
The way it is, it would seem
the book of our lives is empty.
The furniture in the room is never shifted,
and the rugs become darker each time
our shadows pass over them.
It is almost as if the room were the world.
We sit beside each other on the couch,
reading about the couch.
We say it is ideal.
It is ideal.2
We are reading the story of our lives,
as though we were in it,
as though we had written it.
This comes up again and again.
In one of the chapters
I lean back and push the book aside
because the book says
it is what I am doing.
I lean back and begin to write about the book.
I write that I wish to move beyond the book.
Beyond my life into another life.
I put the pen down.
The book says: "He put the pen down
and turned and watched her reading
the part about herself falling in love."
The book is more accurate than we can imagine.
I lean back and watch you read
about the man across the street.
They built a house there,
and one day a man walked out of it.
You fell in love with him
because you knew that he would never visit you,
would never know you were waiting.
Night after night you would say
that he was like me.
I lean back and watch you grow older without me.
Sunlight falls on your silver hair.
The rugs, the furniture,
seem almost imaginary now.
"She continued to read.
She seemed to consider his absence
of no special importance,
as someone on a perfect day will consider
the weather a failure
because it did not change his mind."
You narrow your eyes.
You have the impulse to close the book
which describes my resistance:
how when I lean back I imagine
my life without you, imagine moving
into another life, another book.
It describes your dependence on desire,
how the momentary disclosures
of purpose make you afraid.
The book describes much more than it should.
It wants to divide us.3
This morning I woke and believed
there was no more to to our lives
than the story of our lives.
When you disagreed, I pointed
to the place in the book where you disagreed.
You fell back to sleep and I began to read
those mysterious parts you used to guess at
while they were being written
and lose interest in after they became
part of the story.
In one of them cold dresses of moonlight
are draped over the chairs in a man's room.
He dreams of a woman whose dresses are lost,
who sits in a garden and waits.
She believes that love is a sacrifice.
The part describes her death
and she is never named,
which is one of the things
you could not stand about her.
A little later we learn
that the dreaming man lives
in the new house across the street.
This morning after you fell back to sleep
I began to turn the pages early in the book:
it was like dreaming of childhood,
so much seemed to vanish,
so much seemed to come to life again.
I did not know what to do.
The book said: "In those moments it was his book.
A bleak crown rested uneasily on his head.
He was the brief ruler of inner and outer discord,
anxious in his own kingdom."4
Before you woke
I read another part that described your absence
and told how you sleep to reverse
the progress of your life.
I was touched by my own loneliness as I read,
knowing that what I feel is often the crude
and unsuccessful form of a story
that may never be told.
"He wanted to see her naked and vulnerable,
to see her in the refuse, the discarded
plots of old dreams, the costumes and masks
of unattainable states.
It was as if he were drawn
irresistably to failure."
It was hard to keep reading.
I was tired and wanted to give up.
The book seemed aware of this.
It hinted at changing the subject.
I waited for you to wake not knowing
how long I waited,
and it seemed that I was no longer reading.
I heard the wind passing
like a stream of sighs
and I heard the shiver of leaves
in the trees outside the window.
It would be in the book.
Everything would be there.
I looked at your face
and I read the eyes, the nose, the mouth . . .5
If only there were a perfect moment in the book;
if only we could live in that moment,
we could being the book again
as if we had not written it,
as if we were not in it.
But the dark approaches
to any page are too numerous
and the escapes are too narrow.
We read through the day.
Each page turning is like a candle
moving through the mind.
Each moment is like a hopeless cause.
If only we could stop reading.
"He never wanted to read another book
and she kept staring into the street.
The cars were still there,
the deep shade of trees covered them.
The shades were drawn in the new house.
Maybe the man who lived there,
the man she loved, was reading
the story of another life.
She imagine a bare parlor,
a cold fireplace, a man sitting
writing a letter to a woman
who has sacrificed her life for love."
If there were a perfect moment in the book,
it would be the last.
The book never discusses the causes of love.
It claims confusion is a necessary good.
It never explains.It only reveals.6
The day goes on.
We study what we remember.
We look into the mirror across the room.
We cannot bear to be alone.
The book goes on.
"They became silent and did not know how to begin
the dialogue which was necessary.
It was words that created divisions in the first place,
that created loneliness.
They waited
they would turn the pages, hoping
something would happen.
They would patch up their lives in secret:
each defeat forgiven because it could not be tested,
each pain rewarded because it was unreal.
They did nothing."7
The book will not survive.
We are the living proof of that.
It is dark outside, in the room it is darker.
I hear your breathing.
You are asking me if I am tired,
if I want to keep reading.
Yes, I am tired.
Yes, I want to keep reading.
I say yes to everything.
You cannot hear me.
"They sat beside each other on the couch.
They were the copies, the tired phantoms
of something they had been before.
The attitudes they took were jaded.
They stared into the book
and were horrified by their innocence,
their reluctance to give up.
They sat beside each other on the couch.
They were determined to accept the truth.
Whatever it was they would accept it.
The book would have to be written
and would have to be read.
They are the book and they are
nothing else.

Editor 1 Interpretation

A Journey Through Life: An Interpretation of "The Story Of Our Lives" by Mark Strand

As we journey through life, we encounter various experiences that shape our being. Some of these experiences are pleasurable, while others are painful; but they are all essential in shaping who we are. "The Story Of Our Lives" by Mark Strand presents a collection of poems that explore the journey of life, its ups and downs, and the different stages of life that we go through.

Mark Strand, a Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, published "The Story Of Our Lives" in 1974. The book is divided into four parts: "The Garden," "The Room," "The Street," and "The Dark." Each part represents a stage in life, starting from childhood, adolescence, adulthood, and ending with old age.

The Garden: Childhood

The first part, "The Garden," represents childhood. In this section, Strand explores the innocence and wonder of childhood. The poems are full of imagery that captures the beauty of nature and the simplicity of childhood. The first poem, "The Garden," sets the tone for the entire section. The poem describes a garden that is full of life and beauty, and the speaker invites the reader to come and play.

The second poem, "The Boy on the Porch," is a nostalgic reminiscence of childhood. The speaker, who is now an adult, remembers the boy who used to sit on the porch and watch the world go by. The poem is full of imagery that captures the innocence and wonder of childhood.

The third poem, "The Room," is a departure from the happy, carefree nature of the previous poems. The poem describes a room that is full of darkness and fear. The speaker is trapped in the room and cannot find a way out. The poem is a metaphor for the anxieties and fears that children face as they grow up.

The Room: Adolescence

The second part, "The Room," represents adolescence. In this section, Strand explores the confusion and uncertainty that comes with adolescence. The poems are full of imagery that captures the complexity of adolescent emotions.

The first poem, "The Room," is a continuation of the previous section. The speaker is now older, but he is still trapped in the room. The poem is a metaphor for the feelings of isolation and confusion that come with adolescence.

The second poem, "The Room Above the Ocean," is a surreal poem that captures the dreamlike quality of adolescence. The speaker describes a room that is suspended above the ocean, and the waves crash against the walls. The poem is a metaphor for the turbulence and uncertainty of adolescent emotions.

The third poem, "The Room with the Blackbird," is a poem that explores the desire for freedom that comes with adolescence. The speaker describes a room that is full of darkness, but there is a blackbird that sings outside the window. The poem is a metaphor for the desire to break free from the constraints of adolescence.

The Street: Adulthood

The third part, "The Street," represents adulthood. In this section, Strand explores the challenges and complexities of adult life. The poems are full of imagery that captures the struggles and triumphs of adulthood.

The first poem, "The Street," describes a busy street full of people. The speaker is walking down the street, and he observes the different people and their struggles. The poem is a metaphor for the complexities of adult life.

The second poem, "The Continuous Life," is a meditation on the cyclical nature of life. The speaker describes a river that flows endlessly, and how life is like that river. The poem is a reminder that life is a continuous cycle of birth, death, and rebirth.

The third poem, "Elegy for My Father," is a tribute to the speaker's father. The poem is a powerful reflection on the loss of a loved one and the impact that loss has on our lives.

The Dark: Old Age

The final part, "The Dark," represents old age. In this section, Strand explores the inevitability of death and the acceptance of our mortality. The poems are full of imagery that captures the final stages of life.

The first poem, "The Dark," describes a world that is full of darkness. The speaker is aware of his mortality, and he accepts it. The poem is a metaphor for the acceptance of death.

The second poem, "The End," is a reflection on the end of life. The speaker describes the final moments of his life and the acceptance of his mortality. The poem is a powerful reminder that life is finite and that we must make the most of the time we have.

The third poem, "The Coming of Light," is a powerful meditation on the beauty of life. The speaker describes the coming of light after a long period of darkness. The poem is a metaphor for the beauty of life and the inevitability of death.

Conclusion

"The Story Of Our Lives" by Mark Strand is a powerful collection of poems that explores the journey of life. The book is divided into four parts, each representing a stage in life. The poems are full of imagery that captures the beauty and complexity of life. The book is a reminder that life is a journey, full of ups and downs, and that we must make the most of the time we have.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

Poetry has always been a medium of expression for the human soul. It is a form of art that transcends time and space, and speaks to the deepest emotions and experiences of the human condition. Mark Strand's "The Story of Our Lives" is a classic example of poetry that captures the essence of human life in a profound and moving way.

At its core, "The Story of Our Lives" is a meditation on the passage of time and the fleeting nature of life. The poem begins with the speaker reflecting on the past, and how it seems to have vanished without a trace. The opening lines, "We have not lived the life of the mind, / But of the heart, and this has left us / Only the story of our lives," set the tone for the rest of the poem. The speaker is acknowledging that their life has been one of emotion and experience, rather than intellectual pursuit. They are left with only memories and stories to tell.

As the poem progresses, the speaker delves deeper into the theme of time and its effects on human life. They describe how the passing of time has eroded their memories, leaving only fragments behind. "The past is a foreign country, / And we are strangers there," they say. The speaker is acutely aware of how time has changed them, and how it has altered their perception of the world around them.

Despite the melancholy tone of the poem, there is also a sense of wonder and awe at the beauty of life. The speaker describes the world around them in vivid detail, from the "blue sky" to the "green grass." They marvel at the simple pleasures of life, such as "the taste of an apple" or "the sound of a bird." These moments of beauty and joy are contrasted with the inevitability of death and the passing of time.

One of the most striking aspects of "The Story of Our Lives" is its use of imagery. Strand's language is rich and evocative, painting vivid pictures in the reader's mind. For example, the line "We have lived in the shadow of a mountain / That has never spoken our names" is a powerful metaphor for the sense of insignificance that many people feel in the face of the vastness of the universe. The mountain represents the enormity of time and space, while the speaker and their life are but a small part of it.

Another example of Strand's use of imagery is the line "We have been like children building sandcastles / That the waves of time wash away." This metaphor captures the transience of human life, and how even our most cherished accomplishments are ultimately fleeting. The image of the sandcastle being washed away by the waves is both beautiful and poignant.

In addition to its use of imagery, "The Story of Our Lives" is also notable for its structure. The poem is divided into four stanzas, each with its own distinct theme and tone. The first stanza sets the stage for the rest of the poem, while the second and third stanzas delve deeper into the themes of time and mortality. The final stanza is a reflection on the beauty of life, and a call to embrace it while we can.

Overall, "The Story of Our Lives" is a powerful and moving poem that speaks to the universal human experience. It captures the fleeting nature of life, the beauty of the world around us, and the inevitability of death. Strand's use of imagery and structure make the poem both accessible and profound, and it is sure to resonate with readers of all ages and backgrounds. In a world that often seems chaotic and uncertain, "The Story of Our Lives" is a reminder of the beauty and wonder that can be found in even the most fleeting moments of life.

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