Love is Not Charity

Unfortunately, I still really don't have the time I'd like to dedicate to this, but a couple of quick comments

1) I think it is a mistake to assume Madeline has malice of any sort. I don't believe she does. I don't think her smile or her nails indicate malice. they are clues though, of something else (to me).

2) she probably feels badly enough on her own without us piling on her.

3) I am struck by the basic truth of the title. You can love someone and not be capable of standing by and aiding them in whatever self destruction (or other-destruction) they've decided to take on.

4) Bad relationships have a way of clouding judgment, self-worth, values, and even changing things like our appearance. I wonder if Madeline recognizes herself as she stares at her fingers.

5) this reminds me of tough love, of a sort. He is broken down and on a crawl towards slow suicide. She's not "killing" him (figuratively). She didn't set him to crawling while she blew everything to hell in her wake. I think he had already lit the match. He is killing himself literally (whether that's a drug habit or alcohol habit, or whatever - I believe when I read it that I immediately thought that our otherwise nameless "fuck" was not to be pitied, and therefore, I can't blame Madeline for her escape.

6)I don't think Madeline is lying to herself about him being broken down to soothe herself for leaving him. (As those folks do who rewrite their histories with all the bad a person was when it's over.) I also don't think she is lying about having loved him. It's probably a secret she swallows because it feels duplicitous to leave someone you love(d). And maybe for a long time before she walked away, she hid the broken down parts of him. I know women who have done this. Hell, I've done it. People are judgmental. In a strained and dying relationship, if you don't want to talk about it truthfully, you let everyone around you believe that everything is ok. better than ok even.

a couple of the key things for me:
she catches the truth in the corner of her eye - to me that's a tear. I've choked back a tear or ten and replaced it with a smile. It's no less painful. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've had a whole 5 hour car ride where I intermittently caught a tear and argued with myself about it and forced a "this is the right, good thing" smile to my face.
The sequence of "she will not" - to me, that is her telling herself to be strong and not go back. She is telling herself to stand firm. This is pure will power at work.

I say way to go, Madeline.

Ok. I hope that purge made some sense somehow.
back to work for me.

It's funny -- I can see the tear reading, but I took the corner of her eye thing in another way: that she was avoiding looking at that truth head-on, and what that truth might mean about her failure to acknowledge him. She's looking in another direction, and catches the truth in her peripheral vision. But she swallows it (along with her secret), and smiles.

ETA:

The rain could also mean tears (hers or his, or both). I have no doubt this is not an easy situation for either of them, her smile notwithstanding. (I rather took them for his tears. we know he's miserable.)

I'm also rather inclined to Bunny-gypsy's Pontius Pilate-esque guilt-washing theory. The fact that the rain is hitting her hands, and that's what she's staring at -- along with her wickedly-manicured claw nails -- makes that work rather nicely. (The rain must be hitting all of her -- but William only mentions her hands -- specifically, he has the rain bounce off one of her claw-like nails. It doesn't run down her face, soak her hair and blouse, etc.)

ETA:

Another thing that inclined me toward the peripheral vision theory rather than the tear reading -- the truth is something she's catching with her eye. In other words, it is coming from outside of her (not from within her), and her eye (just the corner) is merely catching it.

A couple of things:

@secret: (1) is interesting, as it would imply a doubling of Madeline: she's keeping it a secret from herself. That's not something I considered, but I find the idea intriguing.

(2) is something I did consider. (Is there, for example, a reason we're not told why she's pondering her fingers? I saw it something of personal relevance, but not related to the secret.)

My own interpretation was that she's never revealed has to do with the situation she remembers; she's not ready to reveal to anyone how she left him. I saw the secret as a sense of shame.

@Careful use of language: I agree. There's a point I haven't brought up, because we don't disagree on it. But technically, the poem doesn't say that she is smiling. It's "to lips" not "to her lips". She could, in theory, imagine someone else smiling. I see no reason to assume this, but I did find the lack of a pronoun here surprising. (Again, I do think she's smiling and the smile is triggered by the memory.)

@Co-dependence: I'm not sure you understand what I mean by that, since you say this: "...NOT due to him being codependent, weak, etc." and "...On the other hand, if he were codependent and I felt I had to end the relationship...". Co-dependence isn't his attribute. It's an attribute of their relationship. Both of them would have problems, and those problems would re-inforce each other as long as they are together, and those problems could also be the reason why they are together in the first place. The idea is that she needs him to be suicidal, because then she can feel needed. It's the sort of twisted relationship that can envoke a smile, because feeling bad feeling good is all mixed up.

Now it's not as easy as her realising that their relationship was co-dependent. If it were that straightforward, she wouldn't just be blaming him. However, if you've gone through the same song and dance through enough iterations (with increasingly predictable outcome), you can change your tune and start blaming him, without realising that you've been an enabler all along. Or without admitting to yourself that you've been an enabler all along.

***

Finally, Sarita's post made me realise that I took for granted that she has just left him. This is not a given, and if the occasion were, say, a funeral (as Sarita suggests), that would work very well, too, with the poem, I think. (I love getting different perspectives from this thread.)

***

ETA: I'm pretty much on board with Stew21's post. (Two posts appeared while I was typing.)

Dawnstorm said:

@Careful use of language: I agree. There's a point I haven't brought up, because we don't disagree on it. But technically, the poem doesn't say that she is smiling. It's "to lips" not "to her lips". She could, in theory, imagine someone else smiling. I see no reason to assume this, but I did find the lack of a pronoun here surprising.

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That didn't surprise me; there's only one set of lips in the poem it could reasonably be, and William tends to omit unnecessary words.


ETA:

I do understand what you mean by codependent. However, while I think it's possible the relationship is codependent, I think it's equally possible that it wasn't codependent -- that she has simply struck him a cruel blow that has reduced him to misery (or that something else has done so).

That he is miserable is in the poem. That the relationship is codependent is possible, but it is not directly in the poem. We don't know when his misery started, or what caused it. We don't know why she loved him, either. I don't see anything in the poem that makes her seem like an enabler. The fact that she once loved him, and that he is now miserable, doesn't demonstrate that he was always miserable, nor that this is why she loved him.

Cass - I like your interpretation of the eye thing.
mostly because of the play on the common phrasing of catching something out of the corner of your eye.
something to think about.
I don't disagree with the hands in the rain interpretation calling up the equally common phrasing at play with "washing her hands of it".

It's the difference in her hands before and after that made me question whether or not she recognizes herself.

CassandraW said:

I do understand what you mean by codependent. However, while I think it's possible the relationship is codependent, I think it's equally possible that it wasn't codependent -- that she has simply struck him a cruel blow that has reduced him to misery (or that something else has done so).

That he is miserable is in the poem. That the relationship is codependent is possible, but it is not directly in the poem. We don't know when his misery started, or what caused it. We don't know why she loved him, either. I don't see anything in the poem that makes her seem like an enabler. The fact that she once loved him, and that he is now miserable, doesn't demonstrate that he was always miserable, nor that this is why she loved him.

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I agree with this. It's an outside assumption, not a necessary implication.

Stew21 said:

It's the difference in her hands before and after that made me question whether or not she recognizes herself.

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I do wonder about whether she recognizes herself. Another thing that make me wonder -- her holding of breath as the rain splashes off her nail, followed by her seeing the "truth."

She doesn't. Her hand is the truth she catches. That's why she holds her breath. Shejyst caught a glimpse behind the curtain she forgot she put up.

Stew21 said:

5) this reminds me of tough love, of a sort. He is broken down and on a crawl towards slow suicide. She's not "killing" him (figuratively). She didn't set him to crawling while she blew everything to hell in her wake. I think he had already lit the match. He is killing himself literally (whether that's a drug habit or alcohol habit, or whatever - I believe when I read it that I immediately thought that our otherwise nameless "fuck" was not to be pitied, and therefore, I can't blame Madeline for her escape.
.

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One thing I have to question is this part. Based on this text, how do we know that she did *not* set him to "crawling"? How do we know this is even an accurate depiction of what he's doing, and not simply her characterization of it? How do we know he "lit the match"?

But setting aside whether she is the trigger for his misery:

I see nothing of drug or alcohol abuse, or any other kind of abuse, in this poem.

I do see depression, whether clinical or as a reaction to an event -- but if that's what is going on, her reaction to it is really fucking cruel, IMO (whether or not she has anything to do with triggering the depression). I may be somewhat biased on this issue. I've had some experience battling depression myself, and I have a friend or two and a couple of relatives who suffer pretty severely from it. I would never call them "broken-down fucks". They're people -- actually pretty fine people with a great deal to offer -- who suffer from depression. If someone cannot deal with that, fine, but calling them a broken-down fuck? If she were sobbing madly as she thought it, I might think she's just blowing off steam -- but she isn't.

What is there in this poem that makes him seem that he is undeserving of sympathy?

The only answer i can offer is that i think the narrator is reliable and her transformation is the central point. Coupled with the title I'd say Madeline escaped justifiably.
I'd say whatever the catalyst it changed her so much that she doesn't know herself anymore.
Mafeline doesn't have malice.

Phone typing. Apologize for typos.

Ok. I'm on a computer again.
I'll go up and fix my typos in a minute. (going back to edit on the touch screen sucks so bad, i'd rather apologize. that's saying something)

So. I got pretty hung up with the hand detail.
And truly it was less a change in her character than it was a change in her hands, and the other detail was her thought process as she noticed.
So, thanks to the pages of posts, I think I put it together (enough to satisfy myself anyway).

On with it:
Madeline ponders her fingers,
slender and bending in the rain (because it's as though she has never seen them - they are a curiosity)

.....once she thought she knew him (memory snips here)

and holds her breath as a rivulet leaps
from a wickedly manicured nail. (this is when she realizes. She watches it. she recognizes something wicked, doesn't she? I think she is surprised that is is wicked. - that's why she holds her breath. this is her. holy shit that's my hand. she might be wondering when she started getting manicures)

.....once she knew she loved him (another memory - but she's not sure anymore?)

Catching this truth in the corner of her eye, (bolding mine - THIS truth) and the peripheral - the truth she catches is not about him. it is her own hand.)
she swallows her secret, only to have it (the enjambment here is perfection swallows it to have it. also, now she knows. she saw a small piece of herself for the first time in a while- to me, it feels like a long time, but I can't assert it without text to back me . - her secret is that it is a facade - her appearance. If you've never had the "this is not me - I don't do this" thing, then this is probably a bit nebulous as an idea. Have you ever caught a glimpse of yourself passing in a mirror and think - whoa. me? wow? Madeline is seeing the facade she painted as paint right now. It's pretty horrifying to experience.)
return to lips as a smile. She remembered: (I love this smile. it's like she is saying hello to an old friend. Oh. you. I know you. wow. long time no see. Also, she swallows it but it won't stay down. it won't be repressed again.)

Clearly he was a broken-down fuck of a ("clearly" because she can finally see clearly. That small truth about the appearance of her hands set other truths loose, i think - that happens. floods even.)
slow-motion suicide falling, (here. slow motion suicide. This isn't an emergency situation. This is coffin nails one by one. he is on a path of self-destruction. and it's a meander. the worst kind.)
pulling and crawling,
desperately calling her name (I think Madeline got her mojo. and he was used to her being right there. they get angry when you walk away when they are used to you coddling, catering, [oh. this is very typical in abusive, codependent and addictive relationships], and being charitable. )
we are sort of back on memory zone here below I think.

“Madeline!”(William so rarely uses exclamations. I was so impressed by multiple uses - and capital letters. wtf? )
.....she will not hear him (here is her will power. fight, girl, fight. Have you ever had to do this? If you respond, at all, you feed the troll. She is using all she has to not hear him)


“Madeline!”
.....she will not care (she hears him but she tells herself she doesn't care. Will power cranked up to 11.)

“Madeline!”
.....she will not answer(he's calling now. she's not answering...super willpower - go Maddie!)

“Madeline!”
.....she is not there. (total commit. you can cheer now. Maddie got closer to free.)

Madeline ponders her fingers, (you know we never actually left the scene in the rain and she is still looking at the hands that are her truth - I imagine her awe and fear. she doesn't need the manicure anymore. she sees herself again for the first time in a long time. )
shivering, trembling in the rain. (and they don't look at all like she thought they did. Not wicked. scared as fuck and finally - hopefully strong.)

She did wash her hands of him. There is a reason they use rain in the movies to signal a change in character - plot shifts happen in rain.

Personally, Maddie does what she has to do, but she sees herself as the villain also. It's the duplicity I mentioned earlier. We think love is a charity-inclusive trait. It isn't. She can love and not tolerate, not condone.
It's so sad, really. My goodness.
There is so much wrapped in this little poem package.

Madeline rocks.

William, did you name her Madeline because of your cosmic love for Madeline Kahn?

Also, I hope you are very pleased with yourself because this is such a beautiful, thought-provoking, powerful, relevant piece of writing.
It's stunning. Your nuance with language, plays on words, and the beautiful crafting of rhyme, and truly, so many other poetic instruments. Well. Color me awed.

(cue William - "would you look at the time.")

In my view, "this truth" refers to the sentence immediately before it: "Once she knew she loved him" -- not only because it came immediately before "this truth", but because William set that sentence aside and emphasized it. And that this is the truth she can only look at sideways, and must ultimately swallow.

I think she's looking at her hands because (1) she's not looking at him, and she's not trying not to look head on at the truth; (2) she is examining herself instead --- and physically speaking, if you are going to look at a portion of your body and are not facing a mirror, it is likely to be your hands. (3) it's a way to focus on the wickedly manicured nails (the claws that in my view have inflicted some cruelty), (4) it's a way to focus on them being washed in the rain; (5) at the end, when she has come to her conclusions about him, her shivering fingers can be taken either as showing that this was a huge emotional step for her, or that she is cold emotionally (as well as physically). I think both.

I am baking chocolate chip cookies for her husband, and brewing up some homemade chicken soup.

(As to the name, I dunno; I have a total girl crush on Madeline Kahn -- she is so deliciously funny. This woman isn't reminding me of her.)

(I predict William never posts to tell us -- he will come by at some point to thank us all for reading, and that's it.)

no. she doesn't remind me of madeline kahn even a little bit. but william does have a cosmic love for her. i was just pondering the name.

Love is not charity- Since he didn't return the love she gave him, he owes her and needs to pay?

He's a fuck- He was clearly much more than a fuck to her so that seems angry. It's the only vulgarity in the poem so it stands out, loaded with emotion? It's also specific. I'd expect her to call him a bastard or a prick, but why a "fuck?" He cheated on her?

Slow-motion suicide falling... Did she shoot him and it's meant to look like suicide? Is that the secret? And she smiles at the memory? Repeating four times how he'll call out to her and she won't answer seems like she's savoring her revenge.

She's outside in the rain now, waiting for public transportation perhaps, with the rain being symbolic of the gloom and doom, hands held out to rinse away the "sin?" She's looking at her trembling hands. Bending fingers, like holding a gun, and the wickedly manicured finger pulled the trigger? Stunned that she really did it or looking for whatever kind of marks could give her away?

Okay, I just love it when I write something and people come up with the craziest interpretations. So I guess that's mine!

ETA: Please tell us what you meant.

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Interesting poem Will, and I'm happy to see the love it's getting--since everyone and their dog is chiming in with interpretations, I thought I'd put in my 2 pennies worth.

William Haskins said:

Madeline ponders her fingers,
slender and bending in the rain,

.....once she thought she knew him

and holds her breath as a rivulet leaps
from a wickedly manicured nail.

.....once she knew she loved him

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Madeline plays with the raindrops, just as she plays with her thoughts of 'him'. The rain she stands in, she chooses to stand in; she accepts the nature of that rain: the rootless downpour of empty love and foolishly cherished moments that ultimately run together in the cold, hard, beating reality. She ponders a raindrop, remembering how she thought she knew him (essence of raindrop = that 'knowing'). As that droplet devolves into a small stream, it runs to her glamour-puss nail, shiny and new (the way it would be touched up after a broken relationship; prettier in search of new love), she remembers how once that 'knowing' manifested itself as love.

William Haskins said:

Catching this truth in the corner of her eye,
she swallows her secret, only to have it
return to lips as a smile. She remembered:

Clearly he was a broken-down fuck of a
slow-motion suicide falling,
pulling and crawling,
desperately calling her name:

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We often catch movement in our peripheral vision, or things just beyond our primary focus. Madeline might be looking back, but she's also ready to look forward--in this sense, sentiment for any prior history falls out of focus, is caught in the peripheral spectrum where before it can consolidate into a tear, she swallows the lump that sadness forces in her throat, and reforges it into a smile. A smile made possible by recalling how pathetic, and needy 'he' was. This is where the first reference to the title appears. Madeline clearly sees herself as the 'giver' in this relationship, 'him/he' is the taker, taking all she had to offer; taking it for free as if she'd volunteered all that emotion and effort. Love is certainly not charity any more, as we see in the following lines:

William Haskins said:

“Madeline!”
.....she will not hear him

“Madeline!”
.....she will not care

“Madeline!”
.....she will not answer

“Madeline!”
.....she is not there.

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Madeline is not a bitch... at least, she doesn't consider herself to be. As with most uncouplings, one party always places more blame on another, usually overlooking their own part. But Madeline is also not a victim, she's strong; the relationship used her, took her emotion for granted--now she's alone. Not there, not with him. But where is she now? Hence:

William Haskins said:

Madeline ponders her fingers,
shivering, trembling in the rain.

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Thanks for sharing this beauty.

kborsden said:

Madeline is not a bitch... at least, she doesn't consider herself to be.

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Few people consider themselves bitches; I'll agree Madeline probably doesn't think of herself that way either. Indeed, her husband/boyfriend may not think of her that way -- at least not yet. He loves her.

But it is my own judgment on her, for all the reasons I've given -- and not, by the way, simply because she's leaving a relationship that isn't working for her. I'll agree with all of you who note that this is sometimes what we must do. I think, really, for me, my judgment turns on that very harsh "fuck" (so jarring to me in this context), and the "wickedly" manicured nails.

But mileages vary. In any case, such an interesting discussion!

Fruitbat said:

ETA: Please tell us what you meant.

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I have yet to see William do that with a poem.

I agree with what the others said about Madeline most likely being a selfish heaux. "Hm, a guy died shouting my name, by the way look how I got my nails did!"
"Most likely" because, having been on both ends of suicide, I have to say it's very, very difficult to deal with or help a suicidal friend. That degree of darkness can be contagious, scary, and paralysing and I don't know if I can hold it against anyone from walking away from that, however cold it may seem. Somehow, her getting wet while thinking of that guy makes me think she does regret not having been there. After all, it seems to occupy her enough to forget finding shelter. Maybe she's just trying to focus on her nails because they're easier to cope with?

Very interesting comments and interpretations. My initial feelings after I read the poem were not swayed. My take:

William Haskins said:

Madeline ponders her fingers,
slender and bending in the rain, ( she's nervous, thinking about what she is about to do)

.....once she thought she knew him

and holds her breath as a rivulet leaps ( again, nervous, anxious. )
from a wickedly manicured nail.Wicked does not strike me as an everyday type word. It's biblical, right? I was thinking that as a woman, perhaps she likes to dress up, wear makeup, etc, and caring about her appearance was judged to be wrong , perhaps by a parent, this guy, her own internalization of this....so maybe knowing that she is about to break up with him, she paints her nails in a wicked red, something he always hated or put her down for.

.....once she knew she loved him I really think she does/did love him but that this is a dysfunctional relationship of some sort, one in which she needs to get away from

Catching this truth in the corner of her eye, Her secret is that she still loves him. Her secret is that she is not strong but has to end this by swallowing her weakness and her emotions
she swallows her secret, only to have it
return to lips as a smile. She remembered:

Clearly he was a broken-down fuck of a
slow-motion suicide falling,
pulling and crawling, She loves him yet something dreadful has happened in this relationship and she needs to remember this so she does not give in and stay with him. She needs to leave. In order to leave, she needs to remind herself of the worst of him.
desperately calling her name:

“Madeline!”
.....she will not hear him

“Madeline!”
.....she will not care

“Madeline!”
.....she will not answer

“Madeline!”
.....she is not there. He is begging her to stay with him, to not break things off, to forgive him and she is forcing herself not to respond.

Madeline ponders her fingers,
shivering, trembling in the rain. Now that she has broken things off, she falls back into her original state that she was in when the poem began. She is nervous, anxious, drained by the holding back of her emotions, drained by the hardest thing she has ever had to do.

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CassandraW said:

The poem is wonderful. Madeline sucks.

The title pretty much gives you her in a nutshell. Her notion of love isn't giving and unselfish -- to her, that's charity. The going got tough; it's time to get going.

While the reader poignantly feels the miserable man desperately reaching for her love, Madeline's focus is entirely on herself: her fingers, her wicked manicure, her feelings. She isn't torn at all (as, if she ever loved him, one would think she ought to be under these circumstances). She will not hear him, she will not care, she will not answer. She's found a way to justify writing him off: "Clearly he was a broken-down fuck..."

"once she knew she loved him/Catching this truth in the corner of her eye,/she swallows her secret, only to have it/return to lips as a smile." This made me think of bile and gas. She swallows the memory of her love and it returns in an unpleasant form -- a smile as she writes him off as a mere broken-down fuck.

My reaction to this one is emotional, and I admit I really haven't moved past that yet, but of course there is your usual attention to sound and language; e.g., ponders/slender/bending, "slow-motion suicide," falling/pulling/crawling/calling

At least she's trembling at the end. I'd love to think she's having second thoughts, but given the rest of the poem, I fear that's not likely. But I can still hope she catches a cold.

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I read the poem, and felt discomfort. I reread the poem, and felt a sickened swirl within my stomach...a theme hitting far too close to home, I suppose. I thought I had to move on from the great language and siturbing message. However, how rare indeed that I find a comment posted to a poem that has greater impact than the poem itself. Thank you, for opening that door.

And I thank you for the compliment to my comment, but certainly it did not have the impact of William's poem. It was a powerful reaction on my part, but only one of many such reactions on this thread, most of which disputed my interpretation. (Indeed, a couple of us continued our lively debates off-thread in PMs.)

Though readers' interpretations varied, the strength of their reactions illustrates the power of the poem.