This post continues from this one discussing an early, journal-like entry about the poem.
The first draft opens:
THE ART OF LOSING THINGS
The thing to do is to begin by “mislaying”.
Mostly, one begins by “mislaying”:
The title has evolved from a recipe, to becoming a gift/talent, to ending up as an art--an idea that flows naturally from the last. The title will move to the first line--a line so memorable that we remember it more than the final title. The recipe is still here: "The thing to do is to begin by."
The text is strewn with colloquial phrases like "The thing to do" perhaps Bishop is striving for natural speech, or maybe she is just letting what comes naturally to flow out. The phrase suggests etiquette, but it is loose. These two lines may be two failed attempts at beginning the poem and they may serve as much to get one's self to start writing--"The thing to do is to begin"--to get words on the page. The second line may be a rewrite of the first. While the adverb is weak, it's an interesting reminder of Bishop's penchant for qualifying. Why "mostly"? It may just be a marker reminding herself to revise or qualify within the text.
She puts "mislaying" in quotes, calling attention to the term--for herself or a future reader cannot be determined. It is a real term (first use in 1614), but perhaps it feels awkward. Perhaps it is sexual. It may just be part of a kitchen-sink method of getting ideas on the page, throwing things at the wall to see what sticks.
keys, reading-glasses, fountain pens
– these are almost too easy to be mentioned,
and “mislaying” means that they usually turn up
in the most obvious place, although when one
is making progress, the places grow more unlikely
The banal list of common things lost grows with "keys." She turns them into a list instead of ballooning them out with an instance or explanation. Note the next comments on the previous line's banality "almost too easy"--almost, another qualifier. She tries out mislaying again--clearly fascinated by the term and follows that with an observation, humorous if not common, so she adds a line about places growing more likely. The places we search, or the place the keys end up?
– This is by way of introduction.
I really want to introduce myself – I am such a
fantastic lly good at losing things
I think everyone shd. profit from my experiences.
These are ways of introductions--an inflation deflated by self deprecation. The tone here seems to be one of self-help or perhaps an essay.
You may find it hard to believe, but I have actually lost
I mean lost, and forever two whole houses,
one a very big one. A third house, also big, is
at present, I think, “mislaid” – but
Maybe it’s lost too. I won’t know for sure for some time.
I have lost one long (crossed out) peninsula and one island.
I have lost – it can never be has never been found –
a small-sized town on that same island.
I’ve lost smaller bits of geography, like
a splendid beach, and a good-sized bay.
Two whole cities, two of the
world’s biggest cities (two of the most beautiful
although that’s beside the point)
A piece of one continent –
and one entire continent. All gone, gone forever and ever.
The hyperbolic self-agrandizement is blown out into ever larger proportion. What started as simple and small has become absurd. The way the text shoots over it, one might miss the power of losing a "house" although one might claim that losing a continent has power (never visiting again?), but the house is more intimate. Over-shooting the important stuff occurs in the next section as well. There's a lot of repetition in these that one suspects that she is looking for the best way to phrase a thing.
One might think this would have prepared me
for losing one averaged-sized not especially——— exceptionally
beautiful or dazzlingly intelligent person
(except for blue eyes) (only the eyes were exceptionally beautiful and
But it doesn’t seem to have, at all … the hands looked intelligent)
the fine hands<
Here it is: the reason for writing--a loved one lost--appears in the first draft. She appears to search for good descriptors. One suspects this was the reason for writing all along, but the way to telling it slant took several drafts. Here it is mostly baldly told. The final draft hardly mentions a person at all--someone suggested that one might claim isn't present in the final text.
a good piece of one continent
and another continent – the whole damned thing!
He who loseth his life, etc… – but he who
loses his love – neever, no never never never again –
This seems to overshoot the reason for writing, but perhaps it is just revising the continent and plays with a famous if uncommon Biblical quote. The poem is still searching for its way of saying.
