Myth

“Myth” is a metaphoric response by Trethewey to the loss of her mother. As she told Monika Dziamka in The Southern Review of Books, “I have dreamed of my mother and imagined going to that liminal place where she is” (Trethewey, “Natasha Trethewey on Myths, Grief, and Joy”). Trethewey connects this to the Greek myth of Orpheus and how he lost his wife Eurydice to the Underworld. “It feels very much to me like dreams I have when I don’t quite realize that [my mother] is dead,” she continues, “[a]nd then I wake up and I realize it, and I’ve sort of left her back in that world of dream where I’ve seen her, where she’s alive, but she’s out of reach.” The speaker of “Myth” can be perceived as either Orpheus or Trethewey herself, but also serves as someone who universally addresses loss.

The poem opens with the line, “I was asleep when you were dying” (Lines 1, 18) which can be read as a simple statement of fact. The speaker was not awake when the person they loved left this world. However, the word “asleep” (Lines 1, 18) suggests that perhaps not only was the speaker in a literally unconscious state but a cognitively ignorant one, too, remaining in the dark regarding the situation that brought about the loved one’s dying. The use of “dying” (Lines 1, 18) instead of “dead”—aside from rhyme scheme—suggests that the speaker was unaware of either the last moments of the loved one’s life or a recurrent situation that was draining the loved one of vitality and hope.

The next few lines deal with the surreality that exists when one is in a state of mourning. The speaker captures the confusion one feels when a loved one disappears from daily interaction: “it’s as if you slipped through some rift, a hollow” (Lines 2, 17). The idea of a “slip” (Lines 2, 17) suggests that the action was quick, while the “hollow” (Lines 2, 17) suggests that the event has created an irrevocable chasm. The difficulty of believing that the person one loved is in fact dead is a common reaction to those facing such sudden loss. The mourner doesn’t want to “let go” (Lines 5, 14). Dreaming about the recently deceased is a common but painful experience as it can seem very lifelike, an altered reality. In “Myth,” the loved one momentarily “live[s]” (Lines 6, 13) in the speaker’s “dreams” (Lines 6, 13) even as the speaker knows realistically, “[y]ou’ll be dead again tomorrow” (Lines 5, 14).

 As the speaker describes it, “between [this] slumber and my waking” (Lines 3, 16), there is a place created that contains the deceased loved one. The speaker refers to this place as “the Erebus” (Lines 4, 15), which, in Greek mythology, is the place where the dead go immediately after dying, a limbo synonymous with darkness. While the speaker has placed the deceased in limbo to keep them close, it cannot last. When the speaker “[tries] taking / you back into morning” (Lines 6-7), they find “you do not follow” (Line 8). The dead remain dead; Eurydice slips back to the Underworld.

The speaker next says that “again and again, [there is] this constant forsaking” (Lines 9, 10), before the poem is divided by an asterisk and the line is repeated. There is a sense that the loved one has abandoned the speaker. The close repetition in the next line, of the exact wording, heightens the emotional content of abandonment and loss. Grief seems never ending as between the two lines, “again” (Lines 9-10) is used four times in total. There is a suggestion, too, of guilt. The speaker was “asleep” (Lines 1, 18) and perhaps failed to imagine the loved one would actually die. Perhaps, as in the case of Orpheus, the guilt revolves around looking back too soon, an action that condemns the loved one to the Underworld. In this reading, the “constant forsaking” (Lines 9, 10) is the speaker mourning their own inability to stop the final suffering of the loved one as well as their own.

The repetition of the lines in reverse order, with the change in punctuation this necessitates, also changes the meanings of the images, creating a clear sense of aftermath. In the morning after the dream, the speaker’s “eyes [are] open” (Lines 8, 11) and they can look more honestly at the situation. The loved one “do[es] not follow” (Lines 8, 11) but instead “back[s] into morning, sleep-heavy, turning” (Lines 7, 12) away. The loved one must reject the light of the living world. “But in dreams you live,” affirms the speaker, “So I try taking, not to let you go” (Lines 13-14). These lines suggest the deep regret of the speaker as they try to mentally undo the fact of the loved one’s death, or perhaps try to remember the details of the person they once loved. The speaker “still [tries]” (Line 15) to make a “Erebus” this time for themselves and the loved one, “between my slumber and my waking” (Lines 3, 16), because they accept that it is only there the pair can meet.

However, post-dream, the speaker also accepts, “You’ll be dead again tomorrow” (Lines 5, 14), which leads to the final truth: Their loved one is never to return. The speaker ends the poem in deep grief: “It’s as if you slipped through some rift, a hollow” (Lines 2, 17). They cannot believe the loved one is gone, and there is a deep regret they could not save the deceased, that “I was asleep while you were dying” (Lines 1, 18). Overall, the second section confirms the permanence of their loss and the depth of the heartbreak.