Part 1
IN THIS OUR WORLD
IN THIS OUR WORLD
CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN
BOSTON SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY PUBLISHERS
_Copyright, 1893, 1895_ BY CHARLOTTE PERKINS STETSON
_Copyright, 1898_ BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY
_Entered at Stationers’ Hall_
_Fifth edition, 1914_
WOULD YE BUT UNDERSTAND! JOY IS ON EVERY HAND! YE SHUT YOUR EYES AND CALL IT NIGHT, YE GROPE AND FALL IN SEAS OF LIGHT— WOULD YE BUT UNDERSTAND.
CONTENTS.
THE WORLD PAGE
BIRTH 1
NATURE’S ANSWER 2
THE COMMONPLACE 4
HOMES—A SESTINA 7
A COMMON INFERENCE 8
THE ROCK AND THE SEA 9
THE LION PATH 12
REINFORCEMENTS 13
HEROISM 14
FIRE WITH FIRE 16
THE SHIELD 18
TO THE PREACHER 19
A TYPE 20
COMPROMISE 21
PART OF THE BATTLE 22
STEP FASTER, PLEASE 23
A NEW YEAR’S REMINDER 23
OUT OF PLACE 24
LITTLE CELL 25
THE CHILD SPEAKS 26
TO A GOOD MANY 28
HOW WOULD YOU? 29
A MAN MUST LIVE 33
IN DUTY BOUND 33
DESIRE 34
WHY NOT? 35
OUT OF THE GATE 36
THE MODERN SKELETON 39
THE LESSON OF DEATH—TO S. T. D. 40
FOR US 43
THANKSGIVING 44
CHRISTMAS HYMN 44
CHRISTMAS 46
THE LIVING GOD 48
A PRAYER 50
GIVE WAY! 50
THANKSGIVING HYMN—FOR CALIFORNIA 51
CHRISTMAS CAROL—FOR LOS ANGELES 52
NEW DUTY 54
SEEKING 55
FINDING 56
TOO MUCH 57
THE CUP 58
WHAT THEN? 59
OUR LONELINESS 60
THE KEEPER OF THE LIGHT 61
IMMORTALITY 62
WASTE 63
WINGS 64
THE HEART OF THE WATER 66
THE SHIP 67
AMONG THE GODS 67
SONGS 69
HEAVEN 71
BALLAD OF THE SUMMER SUN 71
PIONEERS 74
EXILES 74
A NEVADA DESERT 75
TREE FEELINGS 76
MONOTONY—FROM CALIFORNIA 77
THE BEDS OF FLEUR-DE-LYS 78
IT IS GOOD TO BE ALIVE 79
THE CHANGELESS YEAR—SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA 80
WHERE MEMORY SLEEPS—RONDEAU 81
CALIFORNIA CAR WINDOWS 81
LIMITS 82
POWELL STREET 82
From Russian Hill 85
“AN UNUSUAL RAIN” 86
THE HILLS 88
CITY’S BEAUTY 89
TWO SKIES—FROM ENGLAND 90
WINDS AND LEAVES—FROM ENGLAND 91
ON THE PAWTUXET 92
A MOONRISE 93
THEIR GRASS!—A PROTEST FROM CALIFORNIA 93
THE PROPHETS 95
SIMILAR CASES 95
A CONSERVATIVE 100
AN OBSTACLE 102
THE FOX WHO HAD LOST HIS TAIL 104
THE SWEET USES OF ADVERSITY 105
CONNOISSEURS 106
TECHNIQUE 107
THE PASTELLETTE 108
THE PIG AND THE PEARL 109
POOR HUMAN NATURE 111
OUR SAN FRANCISCO CLIMATE 111
CRITICISM 113
ANOTHER CREED 113
THE LITTLE LION 114
A MISFIT 115
ON NEW YEAR’S DAY 116
OUR EAST 117
UNMENTIONABLE 118
AN INVITATION FROM CALIFORNIA 120
RESOLVE 121
WOMAN
SHE WALKETH VEILED AND SLEEPING 125
TO MAN 125
WOMEN OF TO-DAY 128
TO THE YOUNG WIFE 129
FALSE PLAY 131
MOTHERHOOD 132
SIX HOURS A DAY 136
AN OLD PROVERB 137
REASSURANCE 138
MOTHER TO CHILD 140
SERVICES 142
IN MOTHER-TIME 144
SHE WHO IS TO COME 146
GIRLS OF TO-DAY 147
“WE, AS WOMEN” 148
IF MOTHER KNEW 150
THE ANTI-SUFFRAGISTS 152
WOMEN DO NOT WANT IT 154
WEDDED BLISS 157
THE HOLY STOVE 158
THE MOTHER’S CHARGE 160
A BROOD MARE 161
FEMININE VANITY 164
THE MODEST MAID 166
UNSEXED 168
FEMALES 169
A MOTHER’S SOLILOQUY 171
THEY WANDERED FORTH 173
BABY LOVE 174
THE MARCH
THE WOLF AT THE DOOR 177
THE LOST GAME 179
THE LOOKER-ON 181
THE OLD-TIME WAIL 184
FREE LAND IS NOT ENOUGH 186
WHO IS TO BLAME? 187
IF A MAN MAY NOT EAT NEITHER CAN HE WORK 189
HIS OWN LABOR 190
AS FLEW THE CROSS 193
TO LABOR 194
HARDLY A PLEASURE 195
NATIONALISM 197
THE KING IS DEAD! LONG LIVE THE KING! 199
“HOW MANY POOR!” 200
THE DEAD LEVEL 203
THE CART BEFORE THE HORSE 204
THE AMŒBOID CELL 205
THE SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 208
DIVISION OF PROPERTY 209
CHRISTIAN VIRTUES 210
WHAT’S THAT? 213
AN ECONOMIST 215
CHARITY 217
THE WORLD.
BIRTH.
Lord, I am born! I have built me a body Whose ways are all open, Whose currents run free, From the life that is thine Flowing ever within me, To the life that is mine Flowing outward through me.
I am clothed, and my raiment Fits smooth to the spirit, The soul moves unhindered, The body is free; And the thought that my body Falls short of expressing, In texture and color Unfoldeth on me.
I am housed, O my Father! My body is sheltered, My spirit has room ’Twixt the whole world and me, I am guarded with beauty and strength, And within it Is room for still union, And birth floweth free.
And the union and birth Of the house, ever growing, Have built me a city— Have born me a state— Where I live manifold, Many-voiced, many-hearted, Never dead, never weary, And oh! never parted! The life of The Human, So subtle—so great!
Lord, I am born! From inmost to outmost The ways are all open, The currents run free, From thy voice in my soul To my joy in the people— I thank thee, O God, For this body thou gavest, Which enfoldeth the earth— Is enfolded by thee!
NATURE’S ANSWER.
I.
A man would build a house, and found a place As fair as any on the earth’s fair face:
Soft hills, dark woods, smooth meadows richly green, And cool tree-shaded lakes the hills between.
He built his house within this pleasant land, A stately white-porched house, long years to stand;
But, rising from his paradise so fair, Came fever in the night and killed him there.
“O lovely land!” he cried, “how could I know That death was lurking under this fair show?”
And answered Nature, merciful and stern, “I teach by killing; let the others learn!”
II.
A man would do great work, good work and true; He gave all things he had, all things he knew;
He worked for all the world; his one desire To make the people happier, better, higher;
Used his best wisdom, used his utmost strength; And, dying in the struggle, found at length,
The giant evils he had fought the same, And that the world he loved scarce knew his name.
“Has all my work been wrong? I meant so well! I loved so much!” he cried. “How could I tell?”
And answered Nature, merciful and stern, “I teach by killing; let the others learn.”
III.
A maid was asked in marriage. Wise as fair, She gave her answer with deep thought and prayer,
Expecting, in the holy name of wife, Great work, great pain, and greater joy, in life.
She found such work as brainless slaves might do, By day and night, long labor, never through;
Such pain—no language can her pain reveal; It had no limit but her power to feel;
Such joy—life left in her sad soul’s employ Neither the hope nor memory of joy.
Helpless, she died, with one despairing cry,— “I thought it good; how could I tell the lie?”
And answered Nature, merciful and stern, “I teach by killing; let the others learn.”
THE COMMONPLACE.
Life is so weary commonplace! Too fair Were those young visions of the poet and seer. Nothing exciting ever happens here. Just eat and drink, and dress and chat; Life is so tedious, slow, and flat, And every day alike in everywhere!
Birth comes. Birth— The breathing re-creation of the earth! All earth, all sky, all God, life’s deep sweet whole, Newborn again to each new soul! “Oh, are you? What a shame! Too bad, my dear! How well you stand it, too! It’s very queer The dreadful trials women have to carry; But you can’t always help it when you marry. Oh, what a sweet layette! What lovely socks! What an exquisite puff and powder box! Who is your doctor? Yes, his skill’s immense— But it’s a dreadful danger and expense!”
Love comes. Love— And the world widens at the touch thereof; Deepens and lightens till the answer true To all life’s questions seems to glimmer through. “Engaged? I knew it must be! What a ring! Worth how much? Well, you are a lucky thing! But how was Jack disposed of?” “Jack? Oh, he Was just as glad as I was to be free. You might as well ask after George and Joe And all the fellows that I used to know! I don’t inquire for his past Kate and Carry— Every one’s pleased. It’s time, you know, to marry.”
Life comes. Life— Bearing within it wisdom, work, and strife. To do, to strive, to know, and, with the knowing, To find life’s widest purpose in our growing. “How are you, Jim? Pleasant weather to-day! How’s business?” “Well, it doesn’t come my way.” “Good-morning, Mrs. Smith! I hope you’re well! Tell me the news!” “The news? There’s none to tell. The cook has left; the baby’s got a tooth; John has gone fishing to renew his youth. House-cleaning’s due—or else we’ll have to move! How sweet you are in that! Good-bye, my love!”
Death comes. Death— Love cries to love, and no man answereth. Death the beginning, Death the endless end, Life’s proof and first condition, Birth’s best friend. “Yes, it’s a dreadful loss! No coming back! Never again! How do I look in black? And then he suffered so! Oh, yes, we all Are well provided for. You’re kind to call, And Mrs. Green has lost her baby too! Dear me! How sad! And yet what could they do? With such a hard time as they have, you know,— No doubt ’t was better for the child to go!”
Life is so dreary commonplace. We bear One dull yoke, in the country or the town. We’re born, grow up, marry, and settle down. I used to think—but then a man must live! The Fates dole out the weary years they give, And every day alike in everywhere.
HOMES. A SESTINA.
We are the smiling comfortable homes With happy families enthroned therein, Where baby souls are brought to meet the world, Where women end their duties and desires, For which men labor as the goal of life, That people worship now instead of God.
Do we not teach the child to worship God?— Whose soul’s young range is bounded by the homes Of those he loves, and where he learns that life Is all constrained to serve the wants therein, Domestic needs and personal desires,— These are the early limits of his world.
And are we not the woman’s perfect world, Prescribed by nature and ordained of God, Beyond which she can have no right desires, No need for service other than in homes? For doth she not bring up her young therein? And is not rearing young the end of life?
And man? What other need hath he in life Than to go forth and labor in the world, And struggle sore with other men therein? Not to serve other men, nor yet his God, But to maintain these comfortable homes,— The end of all a normal man’s desires.
Shall not the soul’s most measureless desires Learn that the very flower and fruit of life Lies all attained in comfortable homes, With which life’s purpose is to dot the world And consummate the utmost will of God, By sitting down to eat and drink therein.
Yea, in the processes that work therein— Fulfilment of our natural desires— Surely man finds the proof that mighty God For to maintain and reproduce his life Created him and set him in the world; And this high end is best attained in homes.
Are we not homes? And is not all therein? Wring dry the world to meet our wide desires! We crown all life! We are the aim of God!
A COMMON INFERENCE.
A night: mysterious, tender, quiet, deep; Heavy with flowers; full of life asleep; Thrilling with insect voices; thick with stars; No cloud between the dewdrops and red Mars; The small earth whirling softly on her way, The moonbeams and the waterfalls at play; A million million worlds that move in peace, A million mighty laws that never cease; And one small ant-heap, hidden by small weeds, Rich with eggs, slaves, and store of millet seeds. They sleep beneath the sod And trust in God.
A day: all glorious, royal, blazing bright; Heavy with flowers; full of life and light; Great fields of corn and sunshine; courteous trees; Snow-sainted mountains; earth-embracing seas; Wide golden deserts; slender silver streams; Clear rainbows where the tossing fountain gleams; And everywhere, in happiness and peace, A million forms of life that never cease; And one small ant-heap, crushed by passing tread, Hath scarce enough alive to mourn the dead! They shriek beneath the sod, “There is no God!”
THE ROCK AND THE SEA.
THE ROCK.
I am the Rock, presumptuous Sea! I am set to encounter thee. Angry and loud or gentle and still, I am set here to limit thy power, and I will! I am the Rock!
I am the Rock. From age to age I scorn thy fury and dare thy rage. Scarred by frost and worn by time, Brown with weed and green with slime, Thou may’st drench and defile me and spit in my face, But while I am here thou keep’st thy place! I am the Rock!
I am the Rock, beguiling Sea! I know thou art fair as fair can be, With golden glitter and silver sheen, And bosom of blue and garments of green. Thou may’st pat my cheek with baby hands, And lap my feet in diamond sands, And play before me as children play; But plead as thou wilt, I bar the way! I am the Rock!
I am the Rock. Black midnight falls; The terrible breakers rise like walls; With curling lips and gleaming teeth They plunge and tear at my bones beneath. Year upon year they grind and beat In storms of thunder and storms of sleet,— Grind and beat and wrestle and tear, But the rock they beat on is always there I am the Rock!
THE SEA.
I am the Sea. I hold the land As one holds an apple in his hand, Hold it fast with sleepless eyes, Watching the continents sink and rise. Out of my bosom the mountains grow, Back to its depths they crumble slow; The earth is a helpless child to me. I am the Sea!
I am the Sea. When I draw back Blossom and verdure follow my track, And the land I leave grows proud and fair, For the wonderful race of man is there; And the winds of heaven wail and cry While the nations rise and reign and die, Living and dying in folly and pain, While the laws of the universe thunder in vain. What is the folly of man to me? I am the Sea.
I am the Sea. The earth I sway; Granite to me is potter’s clay; Under the touch of my careless waves It rises in turrets and sinks in caves; The iron cliffs that edge the land I grind to pebbles and sift to sand, And beach-grass bloweth and children play In what were the rocks of yesterday. It is but a moment of sport to me. I am the Sea!
I am the Sea. In my bosom deep Wealth and Wonder and Beauty sleep; Wealth and Wonder and Beauty rise In changing splendor of sunset skies, And comfort the earth with rains and snows Till waves the harvest and laughs the rose. Flower and forest and child of breath With me have life—without me, death. What if the ships go down in me? I am the Sea!
THE LION PATH.
I dare not! Look! the road is very dark; The trees stir softly and the bushes shake, The long grass rustles, and the darkness moves Here—there—beyond! There’s something crept across the road just now! And you would have me go? Go _there_, through that live darkness, hideous With stir of crouching forms that wait to kill? Ah, _look_! See there! and there! and there again! Great yellow glassy eyes, close to the ground! Look! Now the clouds are lighter I can see The long slow lashing of the sinewy tails, And the set quiver of strong jaws that wait! Go there? Not I! Who dares to go who sees So perfectly the lions in the path?
Comes one who dares.
Afraid at first, yet bound On such high errand as no fear could stay. Forth goes he with the lions in his path. And then—?
He dared a death of agony, Outnumbered battle with the king of beasts, Long struggle in the horror of the night, Dared and went forth to meet—O ye who fear! Finding an empty road, and nothing there,— A wide, bare, common road, with homely fields, And fences, and the dusty roadside trees— Some spitting kittens, maybe, in the grass.
REINFORCEMENTS.
Yea, we despair. Because the night is long, And all arms weary with the endless fight With blind, black forces of insulted law Which we continually disobey, And know not how to honor if we would.
How can we fight when every effort fails, And the vast hydra looms before us still Headed as thickly as at dawn of day, Fierce as when evening fell on us at war? We are aweary, and no help appears; No light, no knowledge, no sure way to kill Our ancient enemy. Let us give o’er! We do but fight with fate! Lay down your arms! Retreat! Surrender! Better live as slaves Than fight forever on a losing field!
Hold, ye faint-hearted! Ye are not alone! Into your worn-out ranks of weary men Come mighty reinforcements, even now! Look where the dawn is kindling in the east, Brave with the glory of the better day,— A countless host, an endless host, all fresh, With unstained banners and unsullied shields, With shining swords that point to victory, And great young hearts that know not how to fear,— The Children come to save the weary world!
HEROISM.
It takes great strength to train To modern service your ancestral brain; To lift the weight of the unnumbered years Of dead men’s habits, methods, and ideas; To hold that back with one hand, and support With the other the weak steps of a new thought.