"Eden," by Emily Grosholz

"Eden," by Emily Grosholz

Emily Grosholz, famous poet, literary critic, and philosopher, was born and raised in the suburbs of Philadelphia. She attended the Univerisity of Chicago, were she received her B.A. in 1972, and she also attended Yale University where she received her Ph.D. in philosophy in 1978. Grosholz was also a world traveler, widely exploring Italy and Greece and living in France, Germany, and England. She is the professor of Philosophy and African American Studies and Fellow of the Institute for the Arts and Humanistic Studies at the Pennsylvania State University, and Life Member of Clare Hall, University of Cambridge. She is married to medievalist, Robert R. Edwards, and together they have four children. Grosholz has published four books of poetry and has received grants for her poetry from the Guggenheim and the Ingram Merrill Foundations.

In lurid cartoon colors, the big baby
Dinosaur steps backwards under the shadow
Of an approaching tyrannosaurus rex.
“His mommy going to fix it,” you remark,
Serenely anxious, hoping for the best.

After the big explosion, after the lights
Go down inside the house and up the street,
We rush outdoors to find a squirrel stopped
In straws of half-gnawed cable. I explain,
Trying to fit the facts, “The squirrel is dead.”

No, you explain it otherwise to me.
“He’s sleeping. And his mommy going to come.”
Later, when the squirrel has been removed,
“His mommy fix him,” you assert, insisting
On the right to know what you believe.

The world is truly full of fabulous
Great and curious small inhabitants,
And you’re the freshly minted, unashamed
Adam in this garden. You preside,
Appreciate, and judge our proper names.

Like God, I brought you here.
Like God, I seem to be omnipotent,
Mostly helpful, sometimes angry as hell.
I fix whatever minor faults arise
With band-aids, batteries, masking tape, and pills.

But I am powerless, as you must know,
To chase the serpent sliding in the grass,
Or the tall angel with the flaming sword
Who scares you when he rises suddenly
Behind the gates of sunset.

All parents worry for the safety of their child.  In Emily Grosholz’s narrative poem, “Eden,” she explores the theme of wanting to preserve the innocent and naïve nature of children.  The beginning of the poem has an almost whimsical feel to it. It has a light-hearted tone, discussing “lurid cartoon colors” and “big baby dinosaur[s],” elements that seem to come from the ever-active imagination of a child.  The theme of preserving innocence is further explored after the child finds “a squirrel stopped in straws of half-gnawed cables. “ In the midst of death, the ignorant optimism of the child convinces him that the squirrel is merely sleeping, and that “mommy will fix him.” We are placed inside the mind of a child, the mask of “mommy will fix it’’ protecting us from real life.

                The tone of the poem begins to shift with the third stanza. Instead of the light-hearted tone that reflects the mind of the child, it becomes profound as we look into worried the mind of the mother. The mother alludes to the Garden of Eden; comparing her child to the “freshly minted, unashamed Adam” and herself to God. Like God, she is an omnipotent creator, always there to fix “whatever minor faults arise with bandaids, batteries, masking tape, and pills.” The tone is instructive, yet mournful, as the mother still longs to protect her child, teaching them how to see the cartoon colors in a world full of squirrels in half-gnawed cables.  However, she knows she is “powerless”  to the evil, pain, and destruction in the world; the “serpent sliding in the grass.”