she was raised that prevented her knowing of the ‘impossibility’ of a woman constructing an epic out of her own life? She writes as fluently as though she expects us to welcome her childhood reminiscences with the same warm indulgence that her own parents showed towards her earliest creative efforts. She unfolds scenes of the most intimate and charming domestic detail, without any self-consciousness or apology. And despite the apparent handicap of her sex, her lack of education, her sheltered upbringing, she was able to nourish a surprisingly strong sense of her own autonomy. This is most engagingly evident in that passage near the end of The Birth-day, when she describes Priscilla’s cuckoo-clock, and her own firm feeling when she coveted it as a child:

doi:10.4324/9780429459375-72

Chapter

she was raised that prevented her knowing of the ‘impossibility’ of a woman constructing an epic out of her own life? She writes as fluently as though she expects us to welcome her childhood reminiscences with the same warm indulgence that her own parents showed towards her earliest creative efforts. She unfolds scenes of the most intimate and charming domestic detail, without any self-consciousness or apology. And despite the apparent handicap of her sex, her lack of education, her sheltered upbringing, she was able to nourish a surprisingly strong sense of her own autonomy. This is most engagingly evident in that passage near the end of The Birth-day, when she describes Priscilla’s cuckoo-clock, and her own firm feeling when she coveted it as a child:

Chapter

she was raised that prevented her knowing of the ‘impossibility’ of a woman constructing an epic out of her own life? She writes as fluently as though she expects us to welcome her childhood reminiscences with the same warm indulgence that her own parents showed towards her earliest creative efforts. She unfolds scenes of the most intimate and charming domestic detail, without any self-consciousness or apology. And despite the apparent handicap of her sex, her lack of education, her sheltered upbringing, she was able to nourish a surprisingly strong sense of her own autonomy. This is most engagingly evident in that passage near the end of The Birth-day, when she describes Priscilla’s cuckoo-clock, and her own firm feeling when she coveted it as a child:

ABSTRACT

There was the Book of Martyrs, and The Pilgrim, And fifty other rarities and treasures; But chief - surpassing all - a cuckoo clock! That crowning wonder! miracle of art! How have I stood entranced uncounted minutes, With held-in breath, and eyes intently fixed On that small magic door, that when complete The expiring hour - the irreversible - Flew open with a startling suddenness That, though expected, sent the rushing blood In mantling flushes o’er my upturned face; And as the bird (that more than mortal fowl!) With perfect mimicry of natural tone, Note after note exact time’s message told, How my heart’s pulse kept time with the charmed voice! And when it ceased made simultaneous pause As the small door clapt to, and all was still. Long did I meditate - yea, often dream By day and night, at school-time and at play - Alas! at holiest seasons, even at church The vision haunted me, - of that rare thing, And his surpassing happiness to whom Fate should assign its fellow. Thereupon Sprang up crude notions, vague incipient schemes Of future independence: Not like those Fermenting in the youthful brain of her Maternally, on fashionable system, Trained up betimes i’ the way that she should go To the one great end - a good establishment. Yet similar in some sort were our views Toward contingent power. ‘When I’m a woman I’ll have,’ quoth I, - so far the will and when Tallied exactly, but our difference lay Touching the end to be achieved. With me, Not settlements, and pin-money, and spouse Appendant, but in unencumbered right Of womanhood - a house and cuckoo clock!