Laura Riding - Mortal (1925)
Forgotten Poems #43: Trans History Week Special!
—: Mortal :—
There is a man of me that tills.
There is a woman of me that reaps.
One is true
And one is fair.
Scarce I know where either are.
But I am seed the man should give
And I am child the woman should bear
And I am love
That cannot find them anywhere.
Father and mother and God
and my shadowy ancestry
I think there's no way of making anything
more than a mortal of me.
Laura Riding (1901-1991)
“A native of New York, now resident in Urbana, Illinois.” (Poetry, 1924) “Formerly of Louisville, is living at present in New York.” (Poetry, 1925) A deep thinker and powerful critic of modernism. In 1928 published A Survey Of Modernist Poetry and A Pamphlet Against Anthologies, both co-written with Robert Graves; a solo treatise on modernist poetics, Contemporaries & Snobs, and a manifesto against systematic thinking, Anarchism Is Not Enough.
“We are but a stream of passage between the source that is life and the outlet that is poetry. The climate of this stream, its slight waves and winds and temporary havens constitute the notion of beauty. The artist of this mood sees it not as an in exhaustible infinity of the source whose entirety they are able to re construct from their partial vision of it or as the ultimate mold of the mysterious vessel into which life flows. The quality of beauty is rather an accidental, a peculiar flavor of the poet's own soul, an isolated phenomenon, the taste of a wine rather than the very pulse of running blood. The taste may be whatever pleases the whim of the moment. There is no eternal form, no ideal. Some thing vague as a flood pours in upon the being, something in excess of it that becomes unbearable until poetry or another muse, like an old phlebotomist, performs the operation that lets the magic or the accursed fluid out.” (A Prophecy Or Plea, 1925)
It’s the last hour of Trans history week (US time), and I wanted to do a post celebrating trans lives and poetry. The period of poetry I generally cover in the Forgotten Poems series runs from around 1880-1929, and while I have come across a great wealth of forgotten queer poetry from this period, I’ve not found anything (yet) which specifically addresses trans experiences. Riding’s poem, however, opens the door, exploring notions of non-binary identity (in the sense that Riding, after addressing the female and male aspects of “human” identity, rejects them in favour of a gender-neutral self: mortal—there is also something distinctly ‘post-human’ about these lines).
One of the earliest known Western publications to address trans experiences in depth was the magazine The Third Sex, started in 1930 by Hannah Berg. The inaugural issue contains Berg’s article ‘My First Outing As A Woman’, recollecting the first time she felt supported enough to enter public space as herself—I can’t even imagine the strength that took, or how scary it must have been. But also how joyous, and freeing. While written in prose, Berg’s article often reads like poetry, particularly when broken into stanzas. Here’s a few excerpts;
The day was unforgettable for me, the first time I walked the streets as a woman. Long had I desired it and only experienced it in secret dreams. I had found a good friend to whom I was able to reveal what had slumbered inside me as a carefully guarded secret since childhood. With loving understanding, she was happy to help me fulfill my most secret wishes . . . One last hesitation came over me as I crossed the threshold . . . but my friend’s reassurance drove it away. Naturally, we strode through the evening streets with their colorful light. Oh, how happy I was! How much release I felt! How the rhythm of the feminine walk flew through my limbs! Everything was tenderness, delicacy and joyfulness. It was a blessing to shake off the mask for once and to be able to present myself to human eyes.
The history of trans poetry goes back much further than this, of course. There are some beautiful examples from medieval Jewish writings, for instance, such as the striking ‘Evan Bochan’, by Kalonymous Ben Kalonymous, first published in 1322. Here are some excerpts (read the whole poem here, and an article on the poem here);
"What an awful fate for my mother that she bore a son. What a loss of all benefit! . . . Cursed be the one who announced to my father: “It’s a boy! . . . Woe to him who has male sons. Upon them a heavy yoke has been placed, restrictions and constraints. Some in private, some in public, some to avoid the mere appearance of violation, and some entering the most secret of places. . . . Oh, but had the artisan who made me created me instead—a fair woman . . . And at times, in the way of women, I would lie down on the kitchen floor, between the ovens, turn the coals, and taste the different dishes. On holidays I would put on my best jewelry. I would beat on the drum and my clapping hands would ring . . . Father in heaven, who did miracles for our ancestors with fire and water, You changed the fire of Chaldees so it would not burn hot, You changed Dina in the womb of her mother to a girl, You changed the staff to a snake before a million eyes, You changed Moses’ hand to sickly white and the sea to dry land. In the desert you turned rock to water, hard flint to a fountain. Who would then turn me from a man to woman? Were I only to have merited this, being so graced by your goodness . . .
Of course, the purpose of Trans history week is not to confine these histories to a single week, but to hopefully open the doors to Trans history being a part of every discussion of history. So get out there and read some poetry by Trans poets, support Trans artists, and stand-up for Trans rights!
xoxo dw
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More poems about children . . .
Thank you for these gifts.