Initially in reading First Hour by Sharon Olds, I was rather too caught up in the graphic post-birth images that are described there. I'm a very queasy person. Blood. Pain. Description of blood and pain, any of those make me cringe. Anyway, after getting through the poem once, I began to examine more closely the language that she employs. It struck me as strangely beautiful. Strange because it is describing a rather grotesque scene, yet beautiful because it draws similes and connections, particularly the personification of air, that had never even entered my mind. "...the air of the room was blowing me like a bubble." We always think of ourselves inhaling and exhaling air, we don't think of the air as...well...using air. But then what is wind? Air's breath? It sounds quite trivial and rather stupid, but I found it pretty interesting. Or even "The air was softly touching my skin and tongue, entering me and drawing forth the little sighs I did not know as mine." In the beginning of the poem, Olds mentions separating from the mother, and she is not brought back into the poem until the very end. And it seems that for the lines in between, the air takes on this motherly persona that I find quite intriguing. Anyway...that was my random schpeel on the air...
On another note, I was thinking about what being born really means. To be perfectly honest, I think that my best moments as a human were in my infant stage. I hadn't lied or cheated. I hadn't hurt anyone or caused anyone any emotional pain. I hadn't failed. I hadn't begun to make the infinite amount of mistakes that I would soon make....I was completely innocent. Granted, I am not saying that this was the prime of my human life, hopefully my adolescent achievements have overshadowed that time period, but this initial infancy was my most “flawless” time.
“I gazed and gazed, and everything was interesting, I was not free, not yet in love, I did not belong to anyone, I had drunk no milk, yet – no one had my heart. I was not very human. I did not know there was anyone else. I lay like a god, for an hour, then the came for me, and took me to my mother.”
I find this passage hauntingly beautiful. I think that it has this awestruck tone, yet the speaker is very aware that they had yet to experience the best moments in life. It mixes the newborn innocence and ignorance with the wisdom of having lived years of life. It makes me wonder who the speaker is, how old they are, and what events caused them to reflect on their birth in such an analytical manner. Hmm. Just food for though.
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