CHURNING DAY BY SEAMUS HEANEY
CHURNING DAY
The
predominant image in the poem is of milk, shown in all its stages on the way to
becoming butter. From a vegan perspective, or at the least looking at the poem
with a view to the animals, human and non-human, depicted therein, milk is
necessarily a powerful image. Produced by mammals for the feeding of infants to
provide quick development and growth and coming only from female bodies, it is
necessarily a feminine image. To divorce it from the idea of motherhood is
neither honest nor prudent, especially considering the familial theme of Heaney's
poem. The first image presented is of the "hot brewery of gland, cud and
udder" (4), which interestingly presents the mother cow which produced the
milk more as a machine than as a living being. "Brewery" suggests
something intended for consumption, a mechanical way of looking at the
situation which is at odds with the organic nature of the rest of the poem.
Afterwards, more homey language is used, churns and wood and earthenware which
have a more obvious influence of living hands, being "scoured/with plumping
kettles and the busy scrubber/echoed" (6-8). This transitions into the
presentation of the second mother seen in the poem, which is acknowledged
openly as a mother. "My mother took first turn, set up rhythms/that
slugged and thumped for hours. Arms ached./Hands blistered. Cheeks and clothes
were spattered/with flabby milk" (14-17). The image is certainly not
pretty, as the amount of effort needed to transform the milk into butter is
great.
The final
obvious image of motherhood is presented in line thirty-one, which is part of
an illustration of the house after churning day, when the butter is stored in
the home. Heaney writes, "in the house we moved with gravid ease,/our
brained turned crystals full of clean deal churns" (31-32). Gravid is a
word meaning pregnant, or carrying young. This connection between churning day
and pregnancy may be only a coincidence, the pregnancy being metaphorical, but
criticism does not deal in coincidences. The feeling of motherhood, of
something impending, and of the brains transformed into receptacles for churns,
is a complicated and perhaps baffling image. However, piecing it together in a
vegan feminist context makes for an interesting reading of the poem. The milk
being taken from the mother and child it would have belonged to without human
intervention, the churns nevertheless, with their hollowness and potential for
creation, echo back to the womb implied in the word "gravid", as well
as the mother cow and the human mother who took another's milk to provide
sustenance for her family. This knowledge, or at least unsconscious feeling, of
the feminine aspects of churning butter, the use of female bodies in its
production, mixes interestingly with the images in the last stanza of the poem.
"The
house would stink," Heaney says, "acrid as a sulphur mine"
(27,28). The butter is in slabs on the shelves; the milk is
"sour-breathed", and spades are used to deal out the butter
(30,33,34). It is difficult, looking at the other images, not to read a sense
of guilt or shame into the tone of the last stanza. While accomplishement
flecks the third stanza, the house is left with an unpleasant smell, a reminder
of what has happened in this household. It is not the intention of this writer
to in any way imply that Heaney's intent in writing this poem was to question
or demean the idea of churning butter. However, poems may change in implication
with the audience that reads them. As Heaney's poems frequently involve some
sense of guilt or shame, whether over violence in the present or in Irish
history, this kind of imagery and lingering guilt seems present in this poem
when read from a vegan and feminist perspective. I'd like to apologize to my
readers if any of this seems stretched or off-base. However, the poem's dual
mothers and interesting tone have proven an interesting examination of dairy as
a feminist issue, or at least as an issue of the use of female bodies, which is
the same thing.
The final obvious image of motherhood is presented in line thirty-one, which is part of an illustration of the house after churning day, when the butter is stored in the home. Heaney writes, "in the house we moved with gravid ease,/our brained turned crystals full of clean deal churns" (31-32). Gravid is a word meaning pregnant, or carrying young. This connection between churning day and pregnancy may be only a coincidence, the pregnancy being metaphorical, but criticism does not deal in coincidences. The feeling of motherhood, of something impending, and of the brains transformed into receptacles for churns, is a complicated and perhaps baffling image. However, piecing it together in a vegan feminist context makes for an interesting reading of the poem. The milk being taken from the mother and child it would have belonged to without human intervention, the churns nevertheless, with their hollowness and potential for creation, echo back to the womb implied in the word "gravid", as well as the mother cow and the human mother who took another's milk to provide sustenance for her family. This knowledge, or at least unsconscious feeling, of the feminine aspects of churning butter, the use of female bodies in its production, mixes interestingly with the images in the last stanza of the poem.
"The house would stink," Heaney says, "acrid as a sulphur mine" (27,28). The butter is in slabs on the shelves; the milk is "sour-breathed", and spades are used to deal out the butter (30,33,34). It is difficult, looking at the other images, not to read a sense of guilt or shame into the tone of the last stanza. While accomplishement flecks the third stanza, the house is left with an unpleasant smell, a reminder of what has happened in this household. It is not the intention of this writer to in any way imply that Heaney's intent in writing this poem was to question or demean the idea of churning butter. However, poems may change in implication with the audience that reads them. As Heaney's poems frequently involve some sense of guilt or shame, whether over violence in the present or in Irish history, this kind of imagery and lingering guilt seems present in this poem when read from a vegan and feminist perspective. I'd like to apologize to my readers if any of this seems stretched or off-base. However, the poem's dual mothers and interesting tone have proven an interesting examination of dairy as a feminist issue, or at least as an issue of the use of female bodies, which is the same thing.
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