Elizabeth Bishop’s “Sestina” has been interpreted by some as a moving portrait of intense emotion. Adam Kirsch states that it is “a tableau of frozen grief,” but I believe it is much more than that. It is an illustration of the house and its characters in the face of the cyclical nature of time, showing, in the moment in which we find them, the stoical nature of a house almost magically invaded by emotion; its simple language contrasting with its complex form to evoke a pure, unpretentious feeling of inevitability.

The poem is, as illustrated in the title, a Sestina. Although being a fixed form, what is slightly odd about this poem is Bishop’s willingness to stick to some rules and not others. Not only is the poem written in tetrameter (where most are pentameter) but the final envoy, though including all six “end words”, does not place them in the conventional order. Perhaps this illustrates that the content is more important than the structure – but then why is the poem named solely by its form?

The natural, easy-flowing tone resonates throughout the poem to such an extent that the reader barely notices the formal structure. Caesurae throughout the poem, combined with the enjambed third and fourth stanzas, affect both pitch and rhythm and prevent a strong metre being formed. This gives the pace and tempo to the reader, creating “nuances of meaning.” Bishop guides the reader’s imagination from one part of the scene to the next, but does not dictate. This is emphasised by the many end-stopped lines that again remove the risk of the poem being led by its six “end words,”

The natural-flowing tone complements the simple, modest language that weaves the kitchen and its contents together. Repetition occurs surrounding the many tears that we discover throughout the poem. From the “equinoctial tears” of the grandmother becoming “dark brown tears” in the teacup, to those we find on the man in the child’s picture and the moons from the almanac falling into the flowerbed, we are aware that there is sorrow entrenched in the house, objects and people alike. Tears being the quintessential emblem for sadness we know that something is wrong, but never discover why there is so much unhappiness.

To me, the feeling of sadness conveys a distinct sense of grief – highlighted further by the absence of the rest of the family. Bishop’s own childhood lends further credibility to the interpretation of the absence being that of the child’s parents, leading the reader to question whether the child in the poem is Bishop herself.

Tears are also used to highlight the differences between grandmother and grandchild. A possible interpretation of the contrast between the grandmother who laughs and talks “to hide her tears” and the child who watches “the teakettle’s small hard tears” dancing madly on the stove is that the poet is presenting the notion of separation. However, I interpreted the lines more optimistically: rather than loneliness, I saw the grandmother’s strength and wisdom and the child’s contentedness triumph over the vast emptiness seeping into the scene through the “failing light” and ”chilly” house. The child’s house is alive and vivacious. The simplicity of the language describing the “hot black” stove and the “mad” rain contrasts starkly with that used in relation to the grandmother. Tired by age, nothing is new to her and the properties of the house are no longer fiercely awake but instead are instilled with the same wisdom as her.

The grandmother, like the almanac, has lived through such tragedy before. Being referred to as “a” and not “the” grandmother in the second stanza detaches her from the scene and she becomes a symbol for age and wisdom. At the end of the stanza, as she cuts bread and tells the distracted child it’s “time for tea,” we perceive her desire for routine for both her sake and the child’s.

The “clever” almanac is possibly the strongest “character” in the poem. Having “foretold” the events and hovering “birdlike,” its seeming omniscience is reinforced in the sixth stanza, where we see what those present in the house cannot, the moons “secretly” falling into the flowerbed,and our sense of the almanac almost dictating the action is heightened. The almanac is what unites the child and grandmother in the fourth stanza, where it “hovers” almost urgently above them. It is also the “character” that speaks the most (in both the fifth stanza and the envoy), again emphasising its significance.

The cycle of moons in the almanac echo the feeling of time repeating itself and the impossibility of escaping the inevitable. The only time that the almanac seems to come under scrutiny is in the fifth stanza, where we hear contradictory philosophies from the almanac and the stove. The stove states, “it was to be,” conveying the impression that the present situation is a result of fate, while the almanac’s reply – “I know what I know”, implies that it has happened before within its pages and that it could predict it. It is here that Bishop again cedes her sovereignty as writer to the reader, allowing us to interpret the poem’s message as we will.

The “equinoctial tears,” falling moons and the cry to “plant tears” combine with the rain – both literal and allegorical – foretold by the almanac to place the scene out of time and further the notion that this scene has occurred, and will occur, many times. The “inscrutable house” that leaves us with a distinctly enigmatic vision at the end of the poem only heightens the concept of this house and its inhabitants being out of both time and place.

In accordance with the natural tone and simple language, the poem uses very few conventional techniques to invoke any explicit feeling within the reader. Slight sibilance in the first line, along with the “failing” light, helps create the fairytale-esque vision of the house which is then continued in the next stanza, bring to life the rain that “beats” on the roof and the kettle that “sings.”

In my opinion, Elizabeth Bishop’s poem presents a scene that had happened many times in the life of the house and the grandmother. The philosophy of the almanac, along with the weight of its presence, enforces the concept of the inevitability of time naturally repeating itself. The all-seeing “birdlike” almanac hovers only “half open” to the child who is, perhaps for the first time, discovering the crueler side of life. The grandmother “laughing and talking to hide her tears” in the first stanza presents, both to the child and to the reader, the polarity of emotions held within its pages. Though the “but” in the second stanza seems to imply distance between the grandmother and the distracted child, the picture that the child “proudly” shows her in the fifth stanza once more illustrates closeness and contentedness with one another.

It is important to note that though the almanac may have lived through more years and more tragedy than the grandmother it is only to her that the tragedy can be truly “known.” She appears both old and wise in an entirely different way than the time-stained objects around her as she feels, and has felt over many years, the emotions that the almanac cannot. In this sense she appears almost benevolent, hiding her tears and struggling to keep the “chilly” house warm. Placing wood in the stove may be seen metaphorically for her trying to contain the life in the house for her grandchild, again illustrating their closeness. However, if we are to believe that the poem is autobiographical such a positive interpretation may be out of place seeing as Bishop’s experiences with her grandparents have been documented in a distinctly negative light.

The portrait painted by Bishop in this poem of the house and its inhabitants, to me, resonates a distinctly Hispanic feel and I was reminded of Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s “One Hundred Years of Solitude.” The notion of time repeating itself in the face of a long enduring grandmother seemed inescapably like Ursula of the Buendia family and I could not help drawing similarities between the almanac in the poem and Marquez’s book itself! The ties with Hispanic family intimacy (which perhaps Bishop discovered during her time in South America) and support in the face of grief were far from Bishop’s own upbringing. This would lend weight to the interpretation that the portrait was an ideal for Bishop,describing a loving, strong grandmother instead of hers who, instead of embracing her, sent her to live with an aunt.

This poem moves between each of its figures using unusual personification to give off an all-encompassing feeling of time impacting on everything in its path. The whole scene is locked together through shared sorrow and happiness, all documented within the almanac. Bishop’s effortless use of language combined with the lack of any forceful rhythm creates what David Lehman called “a magical illumination of the ordinary” that culminates with the almanac’s wise cry “time to plant tears.” The interpretation of this line is twofold: both epitomising the idea of sorrow being embedded into the house as well as the more optimistic allegory of putting sadness to bed, recovering from grievance and moving on.