This is another story I remember reading quite a few semesters ago in a different English class. Reading this story then, and rereading it again, it has always reminded me of a secret love affair between the woman and the man. It seems innocently erotic, "My thigh clung to his with dampness, and I watched the sun rising up through the tamaracks and willows." (1030) At times, the story made me wonder if the yellow woman had another life and family elsewhere, and if their love was pure and true, or if it was just lust and simply sexual/physical. (Sorry if that's inappropriate to say!?)
Heaney's poems are a little different (and a wee bit difficult for me to read and understand). One that I liked and thought was interesting was on page 982 called "Punishment." It seems to tell a story about someone (perhaps a man?) telling about a woman and a description of her clothing, the wind "on her naked front./It blows her nipples/to amber beads." There doesn't seem to be any obvious rhyming within the poems and the lines in Heaney's poems seem to sway and flow in a different way than I'm used to. Although Heaney's poems are different than what I'm used to reading, I really liked the poems.
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