Theodore Roethke's "I Knew a Woman": A Dual Reading

Theodore Roethke: Background and Context

Theodore Roethke was, above all, a great American poet — planted solidly in the tradition of Emerson, Thoreau, and Whitman. Much like Thoreau, Roethke seemed to possess an ability, perhaps gleaned from his intense love of nature, that allowed his poetry to communicate in a way few poets ever imagine.

Born in Saginaw, Michigan, in 1908, Roethke spent large amounts of time as a child in the family greenhouse. It is from this period, some theorize, that the poet absorbed much of the imagery that would later influence his verse (Poets.org). A rather lackluster student, he attended the University of Michigan as well as Harvard. Although he was not a prolific writer by any means — his first book, Open House, published in 1941, took ten years to complete — the work he did produce was very well received. His collection The Waking earned him the Pulitzer Prize in 1954 (Poets.org). Additionally, although he was first and foremost a poet, he was also a teacher, working at colleges and universities from Vermont to Washington State, where he died in 1963.

Of his collected poetry, Roethke's "I Knew a Woman" is one of the most discussed — due, perhaps, to its striking sexual imagery. However, there is more to this poem than first meets the eye.

Opening Stanza: Playfulness and Dual Meaning

The poem begins with a stanza marked by an interesting and playful use of repetition. Roethke writes: "When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them: / Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one: / The shapes a bright container can contain!"

The very words — playful and coy — signal the reader that there will be more here than what lies on the surface. Roethke seems to say, "Wake up!" This is especially true in the line "The shapes a bright container can contain," which points simultaneously to the woman, "lovely in her bones," and perhaps to the poem itself, capable of many shapes and shades.

The Muse, the Sickle, and the Rake

As the poem continues, "Of her choice virtues only gods should speak, / Or English poets who grew up on Greek / (I'd have them sing in chorus, cheek to cheek.)," both lines set up a "cheeky" tone — pun intended — while hinting at the Greek strophe, antistrophe, and epode, embedded in the English words "Turn, and Counter-turn, and Stand" (Blessing). Here, the Greek choral device serves to cast the woman as the muse instructing the writer in the art of the poem — specifically, the Pindaric ode (Shubinski).

As the poem continues, "I nibbled meekly from her proffered hand; / She was the sickle; I, poor I, the rake, / Coming behind her for her pretty sake / (But what prodigious mowing did we make.)," Roethke continues to entertain with dual meanings. On one level, the sexual reading is clear: "Coming behind her… what prodigious mowing did we make." On another level, however, the writing theme persists. The reader sees Roethke "nibbling," coaxing out the secrets of good writing from the muse — secrets she drops from the swinging arcs of her sickle while he struggles to collect them.

Conclusion

Theodore Roethke is one of the greatest poets of the twentieth century. However, as he demonstrates in "I Knew a Woman," his efforts toward mastery of the form did not come easily. Roethke's quest for poetic beauty produced a body of poetry that moves "in more ways than one." Yet, as it does, it also "casts a shadow as white as stone." Millions of aspiring poets, shield your eyes.