'A Servant To Servants' by Robert Frost
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I didn't make you know how glad I was
To have you come and camp here on our land.
I promised myself to get down some day
And see the way you lived, but I don't know!
With a houseful of hungry men to feed
I guess you'd find.... It seems to me
I can't express my feelings any more
Than I can raise my voice or want to lift
My hand (oh, I can lift it when I have to).
Did ever you feel so? I hope you never.
It's got so I don't even know for sure
Whether I am glad, sorry, or anything.
There's nothing but a voice-like left inside
That seems to tell me how I ought to feel,
And would feel if I wasn't all gone wrong.
You take the lake. I look and look at it.
I see it's a fair, pretty sheet of water.
I stand and make myself repeat out loud
The advantages it has, so long and narrow,
Like a deep piece of some old running river
Cut short off at both ends. It lies five miles
Straight away through the mountain notch
From the sink window where I wash the plates,
And all our storms come up toward the house,
Drawing the slow waves whiter and whiter and whiter.
It took my mind off doughnuts and soda biscuit
To step outdoors and take the water dazzle
A sunny morning, or take the rising wind
About my face and body and through my wrapper,
When a storm threatened from the Dragon's Den,
And a cold chill shivered across the lake.
I see it's a fair, pretty sheet of water,
Our Willoughby! How did you hear of it?
I expect, though, everyone's heard of it.
In a book about ferns? Listen to that!
You let things more like feathers regulate
Your going and coming. And you like it here?
I can see how you might. But I don't know!
It would be different if more people came,
For then there would be business. As it is,
The cottages Len built, sometimes we rent them,
Sometimes we don't. We've a good piece of shore
That ought to be worth something, and may yet.
But I don't count on it as much as Len.
He looks on the bright side of everything,
Including me. He thinks I'll be all right
With doctoring. But it's not medicine--
Lowe is the only doctor's dared to say so--
It's rest I want--there, I have said it out--
From cooking meals for hungry hired men
And washing dishes after them--from doing
Things over and over that just won't stay done.
By good rights I ought not to have so much
Put on me, but there seems no other way.
Len says one steady pull more ought to do it.
He says the best way out is always through.
And I agree to that, or in so far
As that I can see no way out but through--
Leastways for me--and then they'll be convinced.
It's not that Len don't want the best for me.
It was his plan our moving over in
Beside the lake from where that day I showed you
We used to live--ten miles from anywhere.
We didn't change without some sacrifice,
But Len went at it to make up the loss.
His work's a man's, of course, from sun to sun,
But he works when he works as hard as I do--
Though there's small profit in comparisons.
(Women and men will make them all the same.)
But work ain't all. Len undertakes too much.
He's into everything in town. This year
It's highways, and he's got too many men
Around him to look after that make waste.
They take advantage of him shamefully,
And proud, too, of themselves for doing so.
We have four here to board, great good-for-nothings,
Sprawling about the kitchen with their talk
While I fry their bacon. Much they care!
No more put out in what they do or say
Than if I wasn't in the room at all.
Coming and going all the time, they are:
I don't learn what their names are, let alone
Their characters, or whether they are safe
To have inside the house with doors unlocked.
I'm not afraid of them, though, if they're not
Afraid of me. There's two can play at that.
I have my fancies: it runs in the family.
My father's brother wasn't right. They kept him
Locked up for years back there at the old farm.
I've been away once--yes, I've been away.
The State Asylum. I was prejudiced;
I wouldn't have sent anyone of mine there;
You know the old idea--the only asylum
Was the poorhouse, and those who could afford,
Rather than send their folks to such a place,
Kept them at home; and it does seem more human.
But it's not so: the place is the asylum.
There they have every means proper to do with,
And you aren't darkening other people's lives--
Worse than no good to them, and they no good
To you in your condition; you can't know
Affection or the want of it in that state.
I've heard too much of the old-fashioned way.
My father's brother, he went mad quite young.
Some thought he had been bitten by a dog,
Because his violence took on the form
Of carrying his pillow in his teeth;
But it's more likely he was crossed in love,
Or so the story goes. It was some girl.
Anyway all he talked about was love.
They soon saw he would do someone a mischief
If he wa'n't kept strict watch of, and it ended
In father's building him a sort of cage,
Or room within a room, of hickory poles,
Like stanchions in the barn, from floor to ceiling,--
A narrow passage all the way around.
Anything they put in for furniture
He'd tear to pieces, even a bed to lie on.
So they made the place comfortable with straw,
Like a beast's stall, to ease their consciences.
Of course they had to feed him without dishes.
They tried to keep him clothed, but he paraded
With his clothes on his arm--all of his clothes.
Cruel--it sounds. I 'spose they did the best
They knew. And just when he was at the height,
Father and mother married, and mother came,
A bride, to help take care of such a creature,
And accommodate her young life to his.
That was what marrying father meant to her.
She had to lie and hear love things made dreadful
By his shouts in the night. He'd shout and shout
Until the strength was shouted out of him,
And his voice died down slowly from exhaustion.
He'd pull his bars apart like bow and bow-string,
And let them go and make them twang until
His hands had worn them smooth as any ox-bow.
And then he'd crow as if he thought that child's play--
The only fun he had. I've heard them say, though,
They found a way to put a stop to it.
He was before my time--I never saw him;
But the pen stayed exactly as it was
There in the upper chamber in the ell,
A sort of catch-all full of attic clutter.
I often think of the smooth hickory bars.
It got so I would say--you know, half fooling--
"It's time I took my turn upstairs in jail"--
Just as you will till it becomes a habit.
No wonder I was glad to get away.
Mind you, I waited till Len said the word.
I didn't want the blame if things went wrong.
I was glad though, no end, when we moved out,
And I looked to be happy, and I was,
As I said, for a while--but I don't know!
Somehow the change wore out like a prescription.
And there's more to it than just window-views
And living by a lake. I'm past such help--
Unless Len took the notion, which he won't,
And I won't ask him--it's not sure enough.
I 'spose I've got to go the road I'm going:
Other folks have to, and why shouldn't I?
I almost think if I could do like you,
Drop everything and live out on the ground--
But it might be, come night, I shouldn't like it,
Or a long rain. I should soon get enough,
And be glad of a good roof overhead.
I've lain awake thinking of you, I'll warrant,
More than you have yourself, some of these nights.
The wonder was the tents weren't snatched away
From over you as you lay in your beds.
I haven't courage for a risk like that.
Bless you, of course, you're keeping me from work,
But the thing of it is, I need to be kept.
There's work enough to do--there's always that;
But behind's behind. The worst that you can do
Is set me back a little more behind.
I sha'n't catch up in this world, anyway.
I'd rather you'd not go unless you must.
Editor 1 Interpretation
A Servant To Servants: An In-Depth Analysis
Introduction
"Who serves the farm, serves a hard master," says Robert Frost, in his poem "A Servant To Servants." Frost, one of the most celebrated American poets of the twentieth century, is known for his depictions of life in rural New England. The poem "A Servant To Servants" is a prime example of Frost's exceptional ability to create a vivid, realistic picture of life on the farm. Written in 1914, the poem is a testament to the struggles and hardships of rural life in America, and the role that women played in it.
The Poem: A Summary
"A Servant To Servants" is a long, complex poem that consists of five stanzas, each containing six lines. The poem is written in the first person, and the narrator is a woman who works as a servant on a New England farm. She speaks of her life on the farm, her relationships with the other workers, and her struggles with mental illness.
In the first stanza, the narrator describes the farm and the work required of her. She speaks of the "hard master" she serves, and the endless tasks she must perform. She also mentions the other workers on the farm, including her husband and the "hired girls."
In the second stanza, the narrator speaks of her husband, whom she refers to as "a brute." She describes how he mistreats her and neglects his responsibilities on the farm. She also mentions her own mental health issues and her fear that she will end up like her sister, who was institutionalized for her mental illness.
The third stanza focuses on the other workers on the farm, particularly the "hired girls." The narrator describes their lives and their struggles, including their relationships with men and their desire for independence.
In the fourth stanza, the narrator speaks of her desire for escape. She dreams of running away and starting a new life, but she knows that she is trapped on the farm. She also speaks of her relationship with the other workers on the farm, and how they all share a sense of misery and despair.
The final stanza is a reflection on the narrator's life and the life of the other workers on the farm. She speaks of the hardships they have endured and the sacrifices they have made. She also speaks of the beauty of the farm and the natural world, and how it provides a source of solace and comfort amidst the struggles of their lives.
Analysis
"A Servant To Servants" is a deeply insightful and poignant poem that explores the lives of rural workers in America. The poem is filled with vivid images and rich details, which make the reader feel as though they are right there on the farm with the narrator. At the same time, it also touches on important themes and issues, such as gender roles, mental illness, and the struggles of rural life.
One of the most striking aspects of the poem is the way in which it portrays the role of women in rural America. The narrator is a woman who works as a servant on a farm, and she is surrounded by other women who are in similar positions. Frost portrays these women as strong and capable, yet also vulnerable and limited by their social and economic circumstances. The poem speaks to the challenges that women faced in this period, both in terms of their domestic and professional lives.
Another important theme in the poem is mental illness, which is a subject that Frost was particularly interested in. The narrator speaks of her own struggles with mental illness, as well as her fear that she will end up like her sister. This theme is particularly powerful, as it speaks to the stigma and shame that often surrounded mental illness in this period. It also shows the ways in which mental illness can affect not only the individual, but also their family and community.
Finally, the poem is a meditation on the beauty of the natural world and its capacity to provide solace and comfort in difficult times. This theme is present throughout the poem, and it speaks to Frost's deep love and appreciation for the New England landscape. It also serves as a reminder that, despite the struggles of rural life, there is still beauty and wonder to be found in the world.
Conclusion
In "A Servant To Servants," Robert Frost has created a powerful and moving portrait of life on a New England farm. Through the eyes of a female servant, Frost explores the challenges and struggles of rural life, as well as the beauty and wonder that can be found within it. The poem is a testament to Frost's skill as a writer, as well as his deep understanding and empathy for the people and landscapes of rural America.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
A Servant To Servants: A Poem of Struggle and Resilience
Robert Frost, one of the most celebrated poets of the 20th century, is known for his ability to capture the essence of human experience in his works. His poem, A Servant To Servants, is a powerful reflection on the struggles of women in the early 20th century. The poem is a monologue of a woman who is a servant to her husband and his family. Through her words, Frost explores the themes of gender roles, power dynamics, and the search for identity.
The poem begins with the speaker describing her life as a servant to her husband and his family. She talks about the endless chores and responsibilities that she has to fulfill, from cooking and cleaning to taking care of the children. She feels trapped in her role and longs for a life of freedom and independence. She says, “I want to go away./ I want to be a farmer’s wife/ And have cows and chickens of my own.” This desire for a different life is a recurring theme throughout the poem.
The speaker’s husband and his family are portrayed as oppressive figures who hold power over her. She describes her husband as “a hard man” who “never gives/ Anything or do anything.” Her mother-in-law is also portrayed as a tyrant who constantly criticizes and belittles her. The speaker feels like she is constantly being judged and scrutinized by her husband and his family. She says, “They are always watching/ For signs of stupidity/ I do not know enough to be/ Out in the woods too much.”
The power dynamics in the poem are complex. On one hand, the speaker is a servant to her husband and his family, and therefore, she is in a position of subservience. On the other hand, she is also a mother and a caretaker, which gives her a certain amount of power and agency. She describes her children as “my own brood/ That I was hen of.” She takes pride in her ability to take care of her children and provide for them. However, this power is limited by her role as a servant. She is not free to make her own choices and decisions, and her life is dictated by the needs and wants of her husband and his family.
The poem also explores the theme of gender roles. The speaker’s husband and his family expect her to fulfill traditional gender roles, such as cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children. They do not see her as an equal partner, but rather as a servant who is there to fulfill their needs. The speaker resents this expectation and longs for a life where she can be more than just a servant. She says, “I want to be out of here./ I want to get away and be/ A person by myself.”
The search for identity is another important theme in the poem. The speaker feels like she has lost her sense of self in her role as a servant. She says, “I am ashamed/ I must live like a fool.” She longs for a life where she can be her own person and make her own choices. She wants to be a farmer’s wife and have her own cows and chickens. This desire for independence and autonomy is a recurring theme throughout the poem.
Despite the struggles and challenges that the speaker faces, she remains resilient and determined. She refuses to give up on her dreams and desires. She says, “I am going to keep things like this/ And let them bear my weight.” She is determined to find a way to live the life that she wants, even if it means going against the expectations of her husband and his family.
In conclusion, A Servant To Servants is a powerful reflection on the struggles of women in the early 20th century. Through the monologue of the speaker, Robert Frost explores the themes of gender roles, power dynamics, and the search for identity. The poem is a testament to the resilience and determination of women who refused to be defined by their roles as servants. It is a reminder that even in the face of oppression and adversity, we can find the strength to pursue our dreams and desires.
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