In Sylvia Plath’s The Colossus and Other Poems, one of the most prevalent motifs is
the speaker’s feeling of confinement or suffocation. The majority of poems in this collection
depict the speaker resigning and accepting their state of imprisonment. Many scholars,
such as Maher A. Mahdi, find that Plath’s poetry reflects “a suppressed state that inspires
a fervent desire for freedom” (Mahdi 95). However, as both a contradictory person and
poet, Plath’s poetry contains many contradictions, including a tension between notions of
entrapment and liberation. Many of the Colossus poems involve the speaker being held
captive by some person or force, and in some the captivity is desired or even self-imposed.
In a few rare and outstanding exceptions, such as “Mushrooms,” the speaker(s) instead
struggles to break free from imprisonment and experience freedom. As Jacqueline Rose
writes in “The Haunting of Sylvia Plath,” “Plath is not consistent… She writes at the point
of tension…without resolution or dissipation of what produces the clash between the two”
(10). This tension between conflicting desires certainly exists within The Colossus as we see
the speaker sometimes choosing her own confinement but at other times trying desperately
to escape from restraints that have been placed upon her by an external force.
In many of the Colossus poems, the speaker either cannot or does not wish to escape
from her confinements. At the end of the title poem “The Colossus,” the speaker realizes
that she is trapped with the ruins of her father and condemned to take care of him for the
remainder of her life, for no one is coming to rescue her. She writes, “My hours are
married to shadow. / No longer do I listen for the scrape of a keel / On the blank stones of
the landing” (lines 28-30). Joining her remaining hours to the imagery of a shadow evokes
a sense of doom, or fading out of light and consciousness, which is then echoed by her
complete resignation and loss of hope over ever having a means of escape. Here the speaker
seemingly has no way to break out of her imprisoned state, whereas in “Spinster” the
speaker willingly confines herself. In this poem she feels “afflicted” (line 7) by the “rank
wilderness” (line 10) of spring and by the unruliness and unpredictability of men, and so
“She withdrew neatly” (line 24). Instead of confronting the chaos of the world, she decides
to imprison herself so she cannot get out and the outside world cannot get in. In the final
stanza of the poem, Plath writes, “And round her house she set / Such a barricade of barb
and check / Against mutinous weather / As no mere insurgent man could hope to break /
With curse, fist, threat / Or love, either” (lines 25-30). The speaker sets up these barricades
to protect herself against forces outside of her control. Even though her self-imposed
confinement shields her from the violent “threat” of negative forces such as men and
nature, she has also shielded herself from positive forces such as love. Thus the speaker’s
conflicting attitudes toward confinement and liberation become even more complicated by
her unsettling desire to detach herself from the world and spend her life in a near deathlike
state.
Although “Mushrooms” is also rife with tension, like much of Plath’s work, the
poem is an anomaly in the Colossus collection. “Mushrooms” first establishes itself as an
outlier because it takes the point of view of multiple speakers. The mushrooms come to
symbolize a greater entity than just one single person because the use of words like “our”
or “we” indicates that the speaker is not one person but a large group with a collective
voice. Due in part to the collective voice and in part to the descriptions of the mushrooms,
the speakers appear to be women. The mushrooms move “discreetly” and “quietly” (lines
2-3) and are “Earless and eyeless, // Perfectly voiceless” (lines 15-16). In the 1950s-60s, at
the time Plath was writing, women were expected to be quiet and submissive and were not
supposed to hear, see, or speak anything of import. Women were expected to “Diet on
water, / On crumbs of shadow, / Bland-mannered, asking // Little or nothing” (lines 19-22).
They had to live in the shadows cast by men and survive off whatever scraps of sustenance
were available after the men had taken their fill. Plath “recognized the social constructs of
the late fifties and early sixties through poems in which the female is secondary to the male
(Mahdi 95), and this is clearly depicted through these lines in “Mushrooms.” The
mushrooms ultimately proclaim to be “meek” in line 26 which correlates with lines 31-32:
“We shall by morning / Inherit the earth.” This alludes to the Biblical passage Matthew
5:5, which states, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” Traditionally
women were considered the “meeker” sex, supporting the notion that the mushrooms
represent women. Although “Mushrooms” contains a great deal of imagery depicting the
meek and gentle nature of women, the mushrooms’ intent to “inherit the earth” hints that
the mushrooms, or women, are not content with their subservient position.
After all of the imagery Plath presents of being trapped or confined throughout The
Colossus, “Mushrooms” further presents itself as an anomaly in that the speakers actually
break free from their restraints. The mushrooms, appearing to symbolize women, seem
oppressed or restrained since they must physically “Take hold on the loam” (line 5) and
break through the earth to “Acquire the air” (line 6). Then their “Soft fists insist on /
Heaving the needles, / The leafy bedding, // Even the paving” (lines 10-13). Here the
mushrooms must use force and push their way through difficult obstacles such as pine
needles or pavement in order to surface, but they are capable of doing so because they are
“Nudgers and shovers” (line 28) by nature. They use their “hammers” and “rams” (line 14)
to break out of the confinement of the earth and acquire their freedom. This need to
overcome a state of oppression reflects Plath’s feelings as a woman and her “revolt against
and anger towards the clearly defined gender roles prevalent in the 1960s” (Mahdi 96). The
mushrooms describe themselves as being “shelves” (line 25) and “Tables” (line 26), placing
their oppression into a domestic context and further emphasizing that the restraints women
are trying to break out of are gender roles, which confine women to their homes where they
must serve their husbands and remain unseen and unheard by the world.
A major source of tension in “Mushrooms” thus arises from the conflict between the
gentle and meek nature of the mushrooms and their desire to revolt. As a result, their act of
breaking free from oppression is very peaceful, quiet, and subtle rather than aggressive or
violent. When the mushrooms break through the earth, they emerge “discreetly, / Very
quietly” (lines 2-3) and do so “Overnight” (line 1) in the dark so they cannot be seen. They
use their fists to punch through their restraints, but these fists are “Soft” (line 10). The
mushrooms are not overly pushy; rather, “The small grains make room” (line 9) for them
to gently “Widen the crannies, / Shoulder through holes” (lines 17-18). Their emergence
from an oppressed state is not a loud and angry event – it is a subtle, silent, and gradual
process. Grace Schulman describes the mushrooms as “a force that is energetic and
winning, but frightening and aggressive” (172), but this characterization does not seem
accurate. The mushrooms’ revolt is gentle, not “aggressive.” Furthermore, they are
“Nudgers and shovers” (line 28) who work gradually, so their force could be better
characterized as patient and determined than “energetic.” Describing the mushrooms as
“winning” and “frightening” does not seem totally inaccurate, but it is perhaps too early in
the lives of the mushrooms to describe them as such, assuming their movement perpetuates
beyond this poem. The mushrooms may one day become a frightening force winning their
battle, but for now it seems unlikely that others have even taken notice of them at all since
they move quietly, subtly, and in the dark. By the end of the poem, the mushrooms have
only barely begun their movement, as they say, “Our foot’s in the door” (line 33). These
juxtapositions Plath presents of the mushrooms being gentle yet angry and meek yet
revolutionary work quietly to generate the uneasy tension underlying this poem.
While the contradiction of the mushrooms’ nature and desire certainly creates
tension, the main source of unease in “Mushrooms” lies not within the poem itself, but in
what the poem foretells for the future. The meek mushrooms are mounting a peaceful and
subtle revolt, and yet their intention to “Inherit the earth” (line 32) hints at an underlying
vein of danger and empowerment that has only barely surfaced in Plath’s Colossus
collection. The notion of the mushrooms presenting a growing threat is further emphasized
by the sound and rhythm of the poem. Plath’s use of an “immediate diction” including
“strong active verbs, compression, and crowded lines with heavy stresses and tight
syllables” (Schulman 171) causes the poem to sound like a quiet chant or incantation. This
chanting seems to grow louder toward the end of “Mushrooms” when the speakers in their
collective voice proclaim, “So many of us! / So many of us!” (lines 23-24). The repetition of
exclamatory remarks emphasizing how many mushrooms are breaking free and preparing
to inherit the earth increases the threat they will one day present. Not only do the
mushrooms intend to break free from their imprisoned state, they intend to overturn
current systems and, eventually, take over the world. While Plath was determined “to move
beyond the expected lifestyle” for women, Mahdi notes that “a retaliatory effect becomes
apparent in many of her poems, which depict a world in which the female is superior to the
male, where the tension between a subjugated female position and her attempts to free
herself from such constraints is evident” (Mahdi 95). The desire to escape from one’s
restraints is already unusual within The Colossus, and the intention to go beyond escape
and invert the current, traditional structures further heightens the tension and uneasiness
of the poem.
In the final poem of the Colossus collection, “The Stones,” the speaker emerges from
her confinement in the hospital, but unlike “Mushrooms” in which this freedom was
evidently desired, the speaker’s attitude towards being freed from her restraints remains
ambiguous. The speaker is confined for much of the poem, as she has “entered / The
stomach of indifference, the wordless cupboard” (lines 5-6) and describes how “The food
tubes embrace me” (line 19) and “My swaddled legs and arms smell sweet as rubber” (line
34). Words such as “cupboard,” “embrace,” and “swaddled” evoke imagery of the
speaker’s enclosure. It seems as though she is being fixed or reshaped into a new and
improved being, since she lies “on a great anvil” in “the city where men are mended” (lines
1-2). While the speaker seems to be currently encased in “darkness” (line 18), she can “see
the light” (line 22), which suggests that she is currently in confinement (most likely within a
hospital) for the purpose of being mended, but will soon be released back into the world
and regain her life and freedom. However, the speaker does not seem to desire this
freedom. In the last stanza she says, “My mendings itch. There is nothing to do. / I shall be
good as new” (lines 44-45). Some critics read this last line as hopeful, believing that “‘The
Stones’ is a poem of hard praise for life” and that the final line represents Plath’s “solemn
promise” to embrace her passion for life (Schulman 176-7). I am not in full agreement with
Schulman’s belief, as I find the conclusion of “The Stones” to represent the tension
characteristic in Plath’s poems rather than an optimistic look toward the future. The
speaker does seem to be looking away from darkness and toward the light of her future,
but not without some fear and uncertainty. She finds her “mendings” and the new form she
is taking to be quite uncomfortable, but unfortunately there is “nothing to do” to relieve
this discomfort. Plath thus generates extreme tension in “The Stones” between the
speaker’s choice to proceed with her life while simultaneously missing and perhaps longing
for the comfort of the darkness.
Each poem within The Colossus certainly contains its own conflicts and dilemmas,
but viewing the collection as a whole and attempting to reconcile all the conflicting voices
and desires only heightens the uneasy tension that perpetuates beyond the pages. For much
of The Colossus we see a speaker who is comfortable with her confines, or who has at least
resigned and accepted her restraints. While the ambiguity of the ending of the “The
Stones” allows the collection to end on a slightly more positive note (despite her
reservations, the speaker is at least preparing to face the world), I still find “Mushrooms”
to be the strongest source of lingering tension. As discussed previously, Grace Schulman
believes that the mushrooms are “frightening,” but their intention to invisibly gain power
and eventually inherit the earth makes it seem more accurate to say that the mushrooms
will be frightening. What makes the mushrooms such an unnerving force is that they are
and will continue to be sweet, docile, and unthreatening – until it is too late. Mahdi
describes how Plath blends “passive inactivity with devouring hostility” in another one of
her early poems, which “presages the vengeful uprising of ‘Lady Lazarus’ and ‘Daddy’
[from Ariel] while maintaining the innocent, expressionless appearance of paper, stone,
mannequin, or doll” (Mahdi 98). Just as paper, stone, or mannequin exhibits a white
facelessness, similar to Plath’s “disquieting muses,” so the mushrooms move “Whitely”
(line 2). In this poem, they appear innocent in their white meekness, and yet they
foreshadow the “vengeful uprising” that will occur when they inherit the earth.
“Mushrooms” is set apart from other Colossus poems for a number of reasons and thus
seems ahead of its time, as if it is truly presaging Plath’s future Ariel poems which feature
“an explosively liberated poetic voice” (Parker 53). “Mushrooms” is a veiled threat – a
prediction of the hostility, defiance, and liberation to come, almost lost under its disguise of
meek, innocent mushrooms – and this is precisely what creates so much tension and unease
in both the poem and in the Colossus collection as a whole.
Paige Wyant graduated from the University of Southern California in 2017 with a B.A. in English literature and a minor in Culture, Media and Entertainment. She currently works as an associate editor for The Mighty, a digital health community created to empower and connect people facing health conditions and disabilities. Paige is passionate about helping others share their stories and using writing as an instrument to spark both personal and social change.
Works Cited
Mahdi, Maher A. “From a Victim of the Feminine Mystique to a Heroine of Feminist
Deconstruction: Revisiting Selected Poems of Sylvia Plath.” European Scientific
Journal 10.32 (2014)ProQuest. Web.
Parker, James. “Why Sylvia Plath Still Haunts American Culture.” The Atlantic. Atlantic
Media Company, June 2013. Web.
Plath, Sylvia. The Colossus and Other Poems. New York: Vintage International, 1998.
Print.
Rose, Jacqueline. “Introduction.” Introduction. The Haunting of Sylvia Plath. Cambridge,
MA: Harvard UP, 1992. 1-10. Print.
Schulman, Grace. “Sylvia Plath and Yaddo.” Ariel Ascending: Writings About Sylvia
Plath. Ed. Paul Alexander. New York: Harper & Row, 1985. 165-77. Print.
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