Snapshots of a Daughter-in-Law

Adrienne Rich was a contemporary of Confessional poets Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton; though not a Confessional poet, firsthand experiences and autobiographical details found their way into Rich's poetry. "Snapshots of a Daughter-in-Law” is one such piece: Rich used her experiences of being a wife and mother to craft a poem examining the societal role of women. Hence, while the speaker in the poem is unnamed, it is evident that the speaker is Rich herself.

The poem is divided into ten sections each further broken into stanzas comprising a photographic description of a "daughter-in-law." Significantly, the "daughter-in-law" in question is not a single person, but a persona; hence, the descriptions are of different women who all examine the "daughter-in-law" role. Further, this role is not, as one would assume, restricted only to married women, who become daughters-in-law to their husbands’ mothers; the "mother-in-law" in question is Nature herself—as Rich hints in Section Six—to whom all men are sons, but all women are daughters-in-law.

The first snapshot in the opening section is of an older woman, once a Southern beauty—a “belle in Shreveport” (Line 1). Now, however, her mind is “moldering like wedding-cake” (Line 7). The comparison points to how the decay began with the wedding itself: Once a woman occupies the role of wife, her mind begins to dim. Using the wedding cake as an extended metaphor, Rich uses the words “rich” (Line 8) and “heavy” (Line 8) to describe how the woman’s mind is bogged down by her “useless experiences” (Line 8) as a wife, just as one feels sluggish and lethargic after eating rich and decadent cake. The woman is now given to indulging in the kinds of petty things with which women are stereotypically associated (e.g., gossip and jealousy); her mind left unused for so long, she is unable to be rational and deal with facts, living in the world of “fantasy” (Line 9). In contrast stands her “[nervy], glowering” (Line 12) daughter. Unsettled and angry at what her mother has become over the course of her marriage, the daughter wants a different life for herself.

Almost in continuation of this desire for a different life, Section Two presents the snapshot of a woman—possibly the daughter—who yearns for something more. Even as she washes coffee pots in the sink, banging them (perhaps in frustration), she hears voices calling to her, urging her to not conform to this kind of life. She must be everything a woman is told not to be: impatient, insatiable, and selfish. These thoughts—presented as coming to her in the voices of “angels” (Line 15)—are so strong, they numb the woman to physical pain. She is impervious even as she holds her hand under scalding water or above the kettle's steam. Indeed, the only thing that causes her pain is the monotony and drudgery of living a domesticated life, represented by “each morning’s grit blowing into her eyes” (Line 25).

The third snapshot is of two women caught in an argument with each other, though preceded by Rich's speaker bemoaning how women’s true potential lies buried and forgotten under other, trivial things. Rich references British folk hero Boadicea: The queen of the British Iceni tribe, Boadicea led an uprising against a conquering Roman army. However, this kind of courage and ferocity of which women are capable, symbolized by the “terrible breasts / of Boadicea” (Lines 31-32), lies buried underneath notions of frailty, daintiness, and a woman’s tendency for hysterics—denoted by flowers and “female pills” (Line 31). Rich's speaker asserts that any “thinking woman” (Line 26) would be unable to sleep at night, visited by the nightmares, or “monsters” (Line 26) of the patriarchal world in which she lives.

However, as Nature—the universal mother-in-law to all women—suppresses these tendencies to think or fight, women turn into petty beings with their intelligence used for lowly things. They fight with each other—screaming like “Furies” (Line 36): the female Greek deities of vengeance. The image of the Furies is significant, as each woman seeks to extract revenge for the kind of pain they experience; however, instead of doing so from the source of their issues—the patriarchal world they inhabit—they do so from each other. They each attack the other’s character with barbs and insults that they have experienced as women. They take the “old knives / that have rusted in [their] backs” (Lines 37-38) and use them as weapons against each other knowing how it will hurt.

The idea that women see reflections of themselves in each other continues into the fourth section, before the fourth snapshot is presented. Here, Rich presents a picture of a woman writer—presumably Emily Dickinson, owing to the references to Amherst (Dickinson’s birthplace and home), as well as to Dickinson’s poem "My Life had stood—a Loaded Gun” (quoted in Line 45). Though Dickinson never married, she is still a "daughter-in-law" to Nature by virtue of being a woman. Although eventually a celebrated writer, Dickinson did not escape the constraints of womanhood during her lifetime. Hence, the speaker presents a snapshot of Dickinson reading and writing in the spaces between her domestic chores. Although intelligent and purposeful, her energies were nevertheless devoted to these chores: “iron-eyed and beaked and purposed as a bird, / dusting everything on the whatnot every day of life” (Lines 48-49).

A short, yet vivid and meaning-heavy snapshot is presented in Section Five, of a woman, smiling and sweetly laughing while shaving her legs. Both her attitude and actions belie how she conforms to society’s notions of who a woman must be: sweet, demure, and attractive. However, Rich’s opinion on this comes through in how the woman’s freshly shaved legs are compared to “petrified mammoth-tusk” (Line 52): The expectations placed upon women are as archaic and irrelevant as the fossilized remains of a prehistoric animal.

Drawing on a figure from Thomas Campion’s poetry, Section Six presents a snapshot centered on the lute-playing Corrina. As Rich's speaker describes the scene, however, there is attention drawn to the fact that Corrina does not sing her own music when playing the lute. Additionally, even as she plays, the focus is on her beauty: "the long hair dipping / over her cheek […] the song / of silk against her knees” (Lines 55-57), which Corinna further adjusts in response to her audience’s reactions. The idea is that the “cage” (Line 61) inhabited by women is not inescapable. The door is unlocked, referencing how one may escape if they chooses to do so. The speaker next directly addresses a woman—presumably Corrina—calling her a “bird” (Line 62) and a “tragical machine (Line 62), asking if having been “[pinned] down” (Line 63) for so long has left her more eager to break free and discover things thus hidden. The reader here gets the idea that Nature is mother-in-law to all women; she has shown her “household books” (Line 67) only to women—all her daughters-in-law, which men (all her sons) have never seen. By presenting all women as Nature’s "daughters-in-law," Rich speaks to the removed position held by women in the eyes of the world and society, akin to that of a woman within her husband’s family.

The precariousness of this position is further demonstrated through the snapshot presented in Section Seven. Here, Rich references Mary Wollstonecraft—an English writer and women’s rights advocate. Considered one of the founding feminist philosophers, Wollstonecraft penned A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792), and lines from this work are quoted at the beginning of this section. The idea posited by these lines—that all individuals, especially women, ought to hold a place in society that cannot be undermined—stands in direct contrast to the reality of women. Rich labels Wollstonecraft “partly brave and partly good” (Line 73); she further asserts that Wollstonecraft “fought with what she partly understood” (Line 74), referencing how Wollstonecraft advocated for women’s rights to a substantial education, despite having received a poor one. The irony lies in the fact that, despite demanding respect for women in society, Wollstonecraft is accorded the opposite in doing so. Intimidated by Wollstonecraft’s achievements, especially as “[few] men about her would or could do more” (Line 75), her character is attacked, reminiscent of the “ad feminam” (Line 37) insults traded by the women in Section Three. Wollstonecraft is labelled “harpy, shrew, and whore” (Line 76), revealing just how dependent a woman’s position and good will is on the fulfillment of a rigid and specific societal role.

Section Eight opens with a quotation from French philosopher Denis Diderot: “You all die at fifteen” (Line 77). Diderot alludes to his belief that women were pure until they experienced men and sex, at which point their innocence and purity ends. The speaker seems to agree that entering the world of men is a death of sorts for women; however, Diderot’s original reasoning is turned on its head: Instead of locating the cause of metaphorical death within the woman through her loss of purity, Rich's speaker directs the blame outward onto societal institutions and patriarchy itself. This section also sees a clear shift of tone: Where Rich had been using second and third person pronouns in describing and addressing the women in the snapshots, she shifts to identifying with them by her use of first person plural pronouns. Where Rich as the speaker thus sought to distance herself from the women of the poem, she moves to the realization that she is one among them, experiencing the same plight and subject to the same, oppressive social institutions.

The woman presented here is one of all women—including Rich. What dies at 15 is not a woman’s purity, but her dreams and desires. She turns “part legend” (Line 78) as her aspirations and the incredible things she once used to be become history, as well as “part convention” (Line 78) as she conforms to society’s expectations of her. Even when she continues to “inaccurately dream” (Line 79), it is from behind closed doors—presumably in a kitchen, as the windows “[blanket] with steam” (Line 80). Extending the metaphor of the kitchen, Rich uses the word “Deliciously” (Line 81) to describe how memories of the woman she used to be occasionally stirs something inside her “drained and flagging bosom” (Line 85). The description of a woman’s bosom, while alluding to the fact that she has born and breastfed children (hence her breasts are drained and sagging), could also refer to her heart and spirit that are similarly tired and drained of life and hope. Furthermore, Rich likens the stirring caused by memories of who she—and all women—used to be to the kind of feeling caused by the potential of adultery. Both situations are tempting, but forbidden; both, eventually, must be turned away, for the sake of morality and social standing.

In Section Nine, Rich identifies one of the biggest hurdles in a woman’s way to greatness: society's low expectations. The speaker calls this a “blight” (Line 92), a disease that, if allowed to continue, will damage all hints of talent or potential in women. Seeing it as such, she asks if her sisters (other women) are willing to throw off this low bar, if they could. She asserts that time is “male” (Line 96) and only toasts “the fair” (Line 97), signifying how women have historically been appreciated for their beauty and little else. With respect to anything else of which they may be capable, women have received praise for base attempts and mediocre results, with every other “lapse” (Line 102) forgiven. Thus, women learn to be complacent. In sharp contrast when they do assert their presence by “[casting] too bold a shadow” (Line 103), or attempt to defy irrelevant and archaic convention by “[smashing] the mold straight off” (Line 104), they are punished. By likening the punishment received to that experienced by prisoners or soldiers—“solitary confinement” (Line 105) and “tear gas, attrition shelling” (Line 106), respectively—Rich highlights just how severely women are discouraged from pursuing excellence. For this reason, she believes few women are willing to push boundaries and try harder than they so far have.

The final snapshot in Section 10 is hopeful. Rich foresees the arrival of a woman who will be “more merciless to herself than history” (Line 110), by pushing herself to accomplish things she was never historically allowed. She will apply her mind in unprecedented ways and in order for her to succeed, she must become less feminine, less emotional. This is implied through Rich’s description of the new woman as “at least as beautiful as any boy, / or helicopter” (Lines 114-15). She can no longer be “subtle” (Line 34); rather, she must be ruthless, with the way she goes forth in the world, “making the air wince” (Line 117). Most significantly, however, she will no longer be carrying promises to be fulfilled in the future. The realization of her potential will be complete and tangible, the victory belonging to all women. Thus, the “cargo” (Line 118) will be “delivered / palpable / ours.” (Lines 120-22)