August 7th, 2009

Link • Poems 5 Comments

Paula Goldman

BONNARD’S WIFE’S ASHES

Stooped shoulders, small breasts. The womanly
         head bent, Marthe, the model
                         he made wife in 1925,

She was upset someone might whisper, “She’s one
         of those women one doesn’t
                         marry.” Even here,

her meager shoulders seem to carry
         lead. The shadow of her head
                         blackens the tub.

She invented a life, assumed a name,
         de Meligny, a demimondaine,
                         daughter of a carpenter,

said her family was dead. She took baths
         obsessively. Marthe walked
                         like a bird on tiptoe,

the weightless walk that comes from wings. Raspy
         voiced, strict diets, raw meat, saw
                         no one but her husband.

The doctors couldn’t figure what ailed her.

Though in 384 paintings, she was young, full
         fleshed. And when she died at 72,
                         he locked the door to her room,

finished the last tub painting: four years
         rearranging, decomposing,
                         ending their long estrangement.

No wonder all the baths; she needed

to feel weightless, as

he drowned her in light.

from Rattle #30, Winter 2008

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§ 5 Responses to “Bonnard’s Wife’s Ashes” by Paula Goldman

  • Kit Smyth Basquin says:

    Goldman captures the personality of the reclusive Marthe, flucturating between physical and mental. She develops mystery, and ends by dissolving her subject in the light of words, just as Bonnard did with paint. A poetic tour de force.

  • Kit Smyth Basquin says:

    in case this did not register yesterday, I send the comment today:
    Goldman captures the personality of the reculusive Marthe, flucturating between physical and mental. She develops mystery and ends by dissolving her subject in the light of words, just as Bonnard did with paint. A poetic tour de force. Kit Smyth Basquin

  • The poem presents a contrast between a woman’s real character and form and the way her husband, Bonnard, portrayed her as a model. What I get is that Bonnard perhaps couldn’t accept her as she was and even after her death he still sought to create a Marthe as he wanted her to be, firmly closing the door on reality… I also felt that Marthe’s illnesses came from her proximity to her artist husband’s unwillingness to see her and love her as she was. A sad poem but full of interesting ideas.

  • Renee Wolfson says:

    As the painter paints strokes so does Ms Goldman provide descriptive words that draws a portrait of feelings on her canvas.

  • Michael and Melanie says:

    Dark and Beautiful.

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