A Thought On Poet, Mark Strand

Mark Strand possesses a unique style of writing poetry whereby the reader’s focus is directed more toward the subliminal, symbolic meaning behind the words than the imagery the words convey. For instance, the poem My Life By Somebody Else is rather simplistically structured and worded, yet a more in-depth analysis reveals that the poem’s intentions are of a much more profound nature: the conflict (or at least separation) between author and speaker. The outcome, then, exposes the semi-schizophrenic duality of a poet in relation to his work.
There is first a (possibly obvious) distinction that must be made between the “self” and the “other” which is constituted by the proverbial “I” and “you” in the poem. It could easily be mistakenly interpreted, then, that “I” refers to the author, Mr. Strand, and “you” refers to the speaker, his creation. On closer inspection though, I believe it becomes apparent that the opposite is actually the truth. However, I do believe Strand is the one telling the story. Basically, then, the poem is being written and told by Strand to his audience (the reader), but the speaker is the element interpreting the process which binds the two, and in doing so, exposes Strand the tangible element. This is the abridged version of the duality complex of a poet.
The speaker first exposes the other by saying, “I left a bowl of milk on the desk to tempt you.” In this manner of personified seduction, the speaker is equating Strand to a cat (the relatable element). In a strange twist, the speaker then says, “I left my wallet there full of money . . . You never came.” By making this antithetical juxtaposition (all in the first stanza), the speaker tempts Strand first in an innocent nonhuman manner, then immediately after tempts him in a more devious manner in order to evoke his humanness. As I mentioned before, the reader needn’t gaze long at the particular words or their structure because the meaning lies in the symbolic interpretation not obviously evident.
In the next stanza, the speaker increases the temptation factor by offering himself and his wife to Strand in a humorous fashion by saying, “I played with myself just to arouse you . . . I offered you my wife. I sat her on the desk and spread her legs.” The first noteworthy element is the play on words in the first sentence which connects the “self” and “other” elements by way of sexual allusion and cleverness on the part of the speaker. When those two elements fail to sufficiently satisfy each other, the speaker reverts to pimping his wife out to the “other” (still essentially himself though) with hopes of returning the notion of personhood and the ultimate achievement, idea. Again the reader witnesses a strange juxtaposition of elements all in the same stanza: that of the male ego (signified) and that of the female image (signifier). There exists here a temptation of the “self” and the temptation of that which lies outside the other (reality in essence).
The third stanza deviates from the previous ones by exposing the inner-workings of the “self” in relation to the “other.” Here the reader becomes aware of the sick sense of despair the duality has created in the mechanism evident in the text by extensive questioning. The speaker says, “Is it because I am ugly? Was anyone ever so sad?” This is simply the pitying factor that is a forerunner for something predominantly worse. He continues by saying, “It is pointless to slash my wrists. My hands would fall off. And then what hope would I have?” This is, to be more precise, where the sick desperation becomes evident with overtones of ego-frenzied sarcasm and self-defeating indulgence prevalent throughout. There is no strange juxtaposition in this stanza really (aside from the switch from pity to sarcasm which is rather expected), only the elemental breakdown of a stranger who is the “self.” It’s awkward to think of ourselves this way, but Strand in relatively simple terms breaks it down for the reader.
The fourth and final stanza concludes itself at the peak of the poem’s disillusionment. The reader sees more desperate but very revealing questioning from the speaker when he says, “Must I have you by being somebody else? Must I write My Life by somebody else? My Death by somebody else?” This is very important because the “self” is beginning to realize that the “other” has become insufficient and that a possible substitute “self” may be required though he says it so as not to expect it to get to that degree of severity. Then there is a single question posed to the author (the “other) which is of extreme importance because it sets the entirety of the poem before this point apart from the concluding thoughts. The speaker says, “Are you listening?”
Something was listening, but my interpretation is that it is not the “other.” The speaker concludes the poem by saying, “Somebody else has arrived. Somebody else is writing.” This “Somebody else” is a new element that has replaced the “other” and has therefore become the author of that which the speaker will now interpret or intercede for. In this manner, a sufficient “other” was found, but this “other” is new and strange to the “self” and he appears wary of him. The duality is sustained.
This is an odd conclusion because the reader is left to wonder about the fate of the “self” in relation to the “other,” or put another way, to wonder about the fate of the man (the author) who possesses these two estranged yet interworking elements. I suppose the overarching theme of the poem is to express the duality in nature that occurs for people like poets who are able to view things outside the box. An author must be aware of those places he goes and those people he becomes lest he find himself caught within his own head. This is a very cognizant statement, and one to be remembered by those who write themselves through others.