A servant to servants robert frost. 18.4: A Servant to Servants by Robert Frost 2022-10-15
A servant to servants robert frost Rating:
"A Servant to Servants" is a poem by Robert Frost that explores the theme of social class and the inherent power dynamics that exist within it. The poem is narrated by a domestic servant who reflects on their position within the household and the way that their role has shaped their identity.
The poem begins with the narrator stating that they are "the servant to servants" and that their job is to "keep the house clean." This line immediately establishes the narrator's subservient position within the household and highlights the social hierarchy that exists within it. The narrator is not just a servant, but a servant to servants - a person who serves those who are already in a position of servitude.
The narrator goes on to describe their daily routine, which involves "sweeping the house and washing the dishes" and "making the beds and doing the mending." These tasks are essential to the functioning of the household, yet they are often overlooked and undervalued. The narrator's labor is invisible and taken for granted, as it is assumed that someone else will always be there to perform these tasks.
Despite the grueling nature of their work, the narrator is resigned to their role and does not seem to resent it. In fact, they seem to have a sense of pride in their ability to fulfill their duties and keep the household running smoothly. However, there is a hint of sadness in the poem as well, as the narrator notes that they are "lonely here, and forgotten by the rest." This suggests that the narrator's position as a servant has isolated them from the rest of the household and that they are not fully recognized or appreciated for their contributions.
One of the most striking aspects of "A Servant to Servants" is the way that it reveals the complex and often conflicting emotions that can arise from a life of servitude. On the one hand, the narrator is proud of their ability to perform their duties and maintain their dignity in a challenging role. On the other hand, they are also aware of their own limitations and the fact that they are limited by their social status. This creates a sense of tension within the poem, as the narrator struggles to reconcile their sense of self with the reality of their position in society.
Overall, "A Servant to Servants" is a poignant and thought-provoking poem that offers a glimpse into the life of a domestic servant and the power dynamics that exist within the social hierarchy. It reminds us of the hard work and dedication of those who labor behind the scenes and the ways in which their contributions are often overlooked and undervalued.
A Servant To Servants by Robert Frost
By good rights I ought not to have so much Put on me, but there seems no other way. Somehow the change wore out like a prescription. We have four here to board, great good-for-nothings, Sprawling about the kitchen with their talk While I fry their bacon. His work's a man's, of course, from sun to sun, But he works when he works as hard as I do-- Though there's small profit in comparisons. They tried to keep him clothed, but he paraded With his clothes on his arm--all of his clothes.
I see it's a fair, pretty sheet of water. In a book about ferns? The figure created by Frost has a frightening endurance in its loneliness. The "love" in the poem is distorted, frustrated not at all idyllic. I have my fancies: it runs in the family. I hope you never. I look and look at it.
It was some girl. There's two can play at that. His work's a man's, of course, from sun to sun, But he works when he works as hard as I do-- Though there's small profit in comparisons. My father's brother wasn't right. How did you hear of it? Women and men will make them all the same. I And see the way you lived, but I don't know! Of course they had to feed him without dishes. There's two can play at that.
The listener is without a voice, leaving the reader with no other perspective on the information the woman provides about her life other than her own. Which uplift his transformation toward the higher realm of a psychological sphere. The wonder was the tents weren't snatched away From over you as you lay in your beds. And you like it here? She had to lie and hear love things made dreadful By his shouts in the night. I often think of the smooth hickory bars. The two primary themes of her monologue are her being kept and how it relates to her current surroundings, and her family illnesses and how it relates to her current state. I can see how you might.
I have my fancies: it runs in the family. He says the best way out is always through. I often think of the smooth hickory bars. They take advantage of him shamefully, And proud, too, of themselves for doing so. Frost is surprisingly sensitive to the plight of women and wrote about their struggles on several occasions. She had to lie and hear love things made dreadful By his shouts in the night.
How did you hear of it? He thinks I'll be all right With doctoring. Did ever you feel so? It seems to me I can't express my feelings any more Than I can raise my voice or want to lift My hand oh, I can lift it when I have to. He looks on the bright side of everything, Including me. It For then The Sometimes we don't. They kept him Locked up for years back there at the old farm.
But she feels the gospel of work is not enough; something beyond, some ultimate courage of loving intelligence, is essential. I almost think if I could do like you, Drop everything and live out on the ground - But it might be, come night, I shouldn't like it, Or a long rain. They kept him Locked up for years back there at the old farm. She is overworked, over-tired, and only half-articulate. I have my fancies: it runs in the family. He says the best way out is always through. But I don't count on it as much as Len.
Did ever you feel so? You let things more like feathers regulate Your going and coming. Anyway all he talked about was love. They take advantage of him shamefully, And proud, too, of themselves for doing so. I was glad though, no end, when we moved out, And I looked to be happy, and I was, As I said, for a while--but I don't know! There they have every means proper to do with, And you aren't darkening other people's lives - Worse than no good to them, and they no good To you in your condition; you can't know Affection or the want of it in that state. That was what marrying father meant to her.
It lies five miles Straight away through the mountain notch From the sink window where I wash the plates, And all our storms come up toward the house, Drawing the slow waves whiter and whiter and whiter. It's got so I don't even know for sure Whether I am glad, sorry, or anything. It's got so I don't even know for sure Whether I am glad, sorry, or anything. No more put out in what they do or say Than if I wasn't in the room at all. Of course they had to feed him without dishes. Some thought he had been bitten by a dog, Because his violence took on the form Of carrying his pillow in his teeth; But it's more likely he was crossed in love, Or so the story goes.