H. D. [Yale] |
from Susan Stanford Friedman’s Penelope’s Web: Gender, Modernity, H. D.’s Fiction [1990] with citings from H. D.’s Asphodel [1920s]:
staring
at the mirror she saw herself, saw herself, yes, she was somehow
dehumanized. . . . Who was Mrs. Darrington? Mrs. Darrington was a
trench, wide and deep and someone else had stepped out and was out
and wasn’t Mrs. Darrington.” But instead of identifying with her
image in the Lacanian sense, Hermione recognizes “Mrs. Darrington”
as the false imago, as the socially constructed self out of which the
woman who will be the mother steps. Tasting wine signals this woman’s
abandonment of the alienating imago and initiates the procreative
discourse that prefigures her coming pregnancy:
You
tasted grape and grape and gold grape (can you imagine it?) and gold
on gold and gold filled your palate, pushed against your mouth,
pushed down your throat, filled you with some divine web, a spider,
gold web and you wove with it, wove with it, wove with the web inside
you, wove outward images and saw yourself opposite smiling with eyes
uptilted, smiling at something that had crept out of Mrs. Darrington,
small, not very good, looking at you in a glass, tall, very tall, not
very good, divine like a great lily. Someone, something was looking
at something and someone, something was smiling at someone. Wine went
to your brain and you knew there was no division now and there was
someone, one left, just one left like yourself who was dead and not
dead who was alone and not alone.
The
absence of division between self and other, the presence of an
indeterminate “you” and split subject, the “something that had
crept out of Mrs. Darrington, small,” and the one “like yourself
who was dead and not dead” foreshadow pregnancy to come. The
spider, web, weaving, gold, and lily reappear interwoven with gulls,
swallows, bees, frogs, butterflies, and rings to signify a pregnancy
that can only be indirectly imaged, not directly articulated. The
repetitive, hypnotic weave of words initiates the discourse of
pregnancy that punctuates the nine months of gestation. Near term,
Hermione moves to a “little hut,” itself a womb:
Weave,
that is your metier, Morgan le Fay, weave subtly, weave grape-green
by grape-silver and let your voice weave songs, songs in the little
hut that gets so blithely cold, cold with such clarity that you are
like a flower of green-grape flowering in a crystal globe, in an ice
globe for the air that you breathe into your lungs makes you too part
of the crystal, you are part of the air, part of the crystal. . . .
Weaving
both song and baby out of her own body, Hermione is a “spider”
who is container and contained. Confined by the pregnancy, she is
also the cocoon that births a butterfly: “Hermione was a cocoon, a
blur of gold and gilt, a gauze net that had trapped a butterfly, that
had trapped a thing that would soon be a butterfly. . . . Herself had
woven herself an aura, a net, a soft and luminous cocoon.”
Boundaries and distinctions of the Symbolic order vanish in the fluid
oscillations of pregnancy:
There
is God in one and God out of one and now that God is in me. I feel no
difference between in and out. Something had happened to me, whatever
the oracle may say, I know already something has happened to me. But
I’ll ask it, for inside and outside are the same, God in and out,
all gold, gorse, pollen-dust, gold and gold of rayed light slanting
across the low spikes of white orchid and fragrance in and out. . . .
The
symptoms of pregnancy not only disorient, but also induce a discourse
without Symbolic signification. Words as sound, sight, color, rhythm,
and smell flood the words as signifiers of meaning. The play on “in
and out,” “inside and outside,” is a startling anticipation of
and variation on Derrida’s concept of “hymenal” discourse, the
inscription of a simultaneous enfolding and enfolded, inside and
outside that deconstructs the difference upon which phallogocentrism
depends. The uterus in H. D.’s text displaces the hymen in
Derrida’s text as a literal and figurative site of deconstructive
power. The woman as speaking mother, not the woman as silent virgin,
disrupts the binary system of patriarchy. Pregnancy makes Hermione
both mother and babe, inside and outside:
The
symptoms made her realize that she was not so neatly a painted box, a
neat coffin for its keeping. She was being disorganized as the
parchment-like plain substance of the germ that holds the butterfly
becomes fluid, inchoate, as the very tight bond of her germination
became inchoate, frog-shaped small greedy domineering monster. The
thing within her made her one with frogs, with eels. She was animal,
reptile. . . . eel-Hermione . . . alligator-Hermione . . . sea-gull
Hermione . . . She wanted what an animal wants, what an eel wants,
what even a bird must have.
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