Reading Response 1, Week 2

I didn’t want to write about Abducted By Circumstance, mainly because I haven’t read all of it...I thought I would go to some of our other sources. I chose to respond to “Always Pears, Plums, Oranges” from the book 32 Poems by Katie Chaple. (page 8)

Always Pears, Plums, Oranges

We have the painters and poets to blame,

those artists’ dark still lifes, the halo of fruit surfacing

out of mahogany, the plumpness

of citrus and plum, glowing as though some great child

were within. The poets with pyramids

fo grapes, the sun of the orange,

then all those pears – the sliding hourglass

of a man’s hands, and, of course, the fall apples.

All in abundance. Then there, in the back, and extra,

like a jar of paperclips, a shadow is the banana-

for the bow of interest, for a little reality. A glimpse

of what isn’t rounded, f what isn’t easily picked,

doesn’t fit effortlessly in the hand. After all, how romantic

is its plunk into cereal? The slick slip of peel.

The red lips closing around the barrel. Easy

jokes: is that a banana in your pocket? Yes,

we have no bananas. A reminder of what’s hard

and unlikely. Where are the bananas?

There – a bunch, the curve

of an open, empty palm. 

Chaple starts off by blaming the artists and poets, which I think is a great start. Immediately I am thinking “why is she blaming artists and poets…especially when she IS a poet” you would think artists would revere other artists and sing them holy praises, but she takes a different approach so I want to keep reading. She talks about “The halo of fruit surfacing out of mahogany” – what great imagery. And it’s true. I have two still lifes in my kitchen that were handed down from my mother and I just love the way the fruit “glows” – and it is funny how these still lifes always seem to be painted on rich, dark mahogany surfaces. So I’m thinking this poem is about the cliché of art, how typical it is to see the triangular mound of grapes, the round apples, the typical pears and plums. It struck me that these usually have to be painted from afar because if you get really, really close you probably can’t tell one rounded thing from another. But you could have the tiniest fraction of a banana poking out and you would recognize it as a banana. Because it is different. And although these other majestic and romantic fruits may seem appealing, only the banana nourishes with potassium. It is unique… “A glimpse of what isn’t rounded, what isn’t easily picked.” Sometimes we have to look past the obvious to find the strength and beauty in all things, which may not always come easy. This is where the meaning of the poem starts to develop and change for me. “A reminder of what’s hard and unlikely.” I LOVE the description of a banana as unlikely. It works so perfectly – the word is off-center, unlikely itself to be used as a description and I just love it. “Where are the bananas? There – a bunch, the curve of an open, empty palm.” What a neat twist at the end, comparing them to fingers joined to a palm. I would have never described them that way. It seems obvious now, but she states the obvious in a way you are not expecting. This makes me think: In almost every culture, the image of an open palm conveys the same meaning: openness, listening,  a willingness to accept what is given. For some it can mean turing yourself over to a higher power. And it can also mean to be in the moment, to accept your hunger or emptiness in the same way you accept feeling full. This is a great place to end, giving the reader more to think about after the poem is done.