Loose Woman
They say I’m a beast.
And feast on it. When all along
I thought that’s what a woman was.
They say I’m a bitch.
Or witch. I’ve claimed
the same and never winced.
They say I’m a macha, hell on wheels,
viva-la-vulva, fire and brimstone,
man-hating, devastating,
boogey-woman lesbian.
Not necessarily,
but I like the compliment.
The mob arrives with stones and sticks
to maim and lame and do me in.
All the same, when I open my mouth,
they wobble like gin.
Diamonds and pearls
tumble from my tongue.
Or toads and serpents.
Depending on the mood I’m in.
I like the itch I provoke.
The rustle of rumor
like crinoline.
I am the woman of myth and bullshit.
(True. I authored some of it.)
I built my little house of ill repute.
Brick by brick. Labored,
loved and masoned it.
I live like so.
Heart as sail, ballast, rudder, bow.
Rowdy. Indulgent to excess.
My sin and success–
I think of me to gluttony.
By all accounts I am
a danger to society.
I’m Pancha Villa.
I break laws,
upset the natural order,
anguish the Pope and make fathers cry.
I am beyond the jaw of law.
I’m la desperada, most-wanted public enemy.
My happy picture grinning from the wall.
I strike terror among the men.
I can’t be bothered what they think.
¡Que se vayan a la ching chang chong!
For this, the cross, the calvary.
In other words, I’m anarchy.
I’m an aim-well,
shoot-sharp,
sharp-tongued,
sharp-thinking,
fast-speaking,
foot-loose,
loose-tongued,
let-loose,
woman-on-the-loose
loose woman.
Beware, honey.
I’m Bitch. Beast. Macha.
¡Wáchale!
Ping! Ping! Ping!
I break things.
“Loose Woman” is a poem in the collection titled Loose Woman by Sandra Cisneros. The poem has a very strong feminist vibe, with a particular writing style unlike anything we've read in class. Where the women we read about wrote in subdued tones and underlying messages, Cisneros boldly shouts her thoughts out loud about the perception of women writers, and perhaps even to a more personal extent, the perception of Chicana writers.
We analyzed many women writers in class whose quest for self-identity was under attack. In The Farming of Bones, Danticat's character Amabelle struggles between who she is ethnically, and who she is dutifully. She is a Haitian woman but she was raised by Spaniards who were also her employees. In this poem you get the sense that Sandra is also being attacked about who she is, Sandra herself having had struggled with her personal identity, moving back and forth between her Mexican side and the side that resides in the States.
In most of the lines, Cisneros says: 'They call me--'. They end in many variations such as 'A beast, a bitch, a witch, and a macha.’
The use of the word 'beast' implies that not only is she “othered” by that, but she is also something foreign to her perceivers. It could easily be that because she is a woman writing in such bold fashions she is seen as a beast, but it could just as easily mean that because she is a woman of color, a woman of Mexican descent, that what she is saying is animalistic and archaic in contrast to a Caucasian woman around that time writing such daring pieces. You also see the use of the word 'witch' and Mexican folklore is a strong and it's much too convenient to draw that conclusion from a Chicana writer.
The word Macha is also a personal stab at Cisneros, or whatever other woman Chicana writer there may be, because it is a Spanish word. Only Spanish speakers use that word to insinuate that not only is she restricted by misogyny in the Americas but is also being heavily attacked by those of her own culture.
Through her poetry, Cisneros beautifully illustrates the type of defiance that she herself, even in her own character: "The mob arrives with stones and sticks/to maim and lame and do me in/All the same, when I open my mouth/they wobble like gin." The first two lines mean her critics have all the necessary tools to label her as what she is (i.e. a bitch because she is a woman and also because she talks so freely about sensitive matters) but coming to the ending 'When I open my mouth, they wobble like gin' it seems that although she is ripe for attacking, once she opens her mouth and says her piece, they falter under the force and truth of her words.
This poem is not only defiance but also acceptance, shown in these lines: "I am the woman of myth and bullshit. (True. I authored some of it.)" and "I like the itch I provoke. The rustle of rumor like crinoline."
These are the words of a woman who is fully aware of the affect she is having on her male audience and isn’t afraid of the heft it holds. This poem is also a warning; near the end as she says 'I’m Bitch. Beast. Macha. Wachale! Ping! Ping! Ping! I break things.” She knows what is being said about her, she accepts it, and she is going to continue pushing forward, offering future and present critics a heads up that she intends to continue writing in the voice that she has always written in.
~Analysis by Lauren Ulugia
And feast on it. When all along
I thought that’s what a woman was.
They say I’m a bitch.
Or witch. I’ve claimed
the same and never winced.
They say I’m a macha, hell on wheels,
viva-la-vulva, fire and brimstone,
man-hating, devastating,
boogey-woman lesbian.
Not necessarily,
but I like the compliment.
The mob arrives with stones and sticks
to maim and lame and do me in.
All the same, when I open my mouth,
they wobble like gin.
Diamonds and pearls
tumble from my tongue.
Or toads and serpents.
Depending on the mood I’m in.
I like the itch I provoke.
The rustle of rumor
like crinoline.
I am the woman of myth and bullshit.
(True. I authored some of it.)
I built my little house of ill repute.
Brick by brick. Labored,
loved and masoned it.
I live like so.
Heart as sail, ballast, rudder, bow.
Rowdy. Indulgent to excess.
My sin and success–
I think of me to gluttony.
By all accounts I am
a danger to society.
I’m Pancha Villa.
I break laws,
upset the natural order,
anguish the Pope and make fathers cry.
I am beyond the jaw of law.
I’m la desperada, most-wanted public enemy.
My happy picture grinning from the wall.
I strike terror among the men.
I can’t be bothered what they think.
¡Que se vayan a la ching chang chong!
For this, the cross, the calvary.
In other words, I’m anarchy.
I’m an aim-well,
shoot-sharp,
sharp-tongued,
sharp-thinking,
fast-speaking,
foot-loose,
loose-tongued,
let-loose,
woman-on-the-loose
loose woman.
Beware, honey.
I’m Bitch. Beast. Macha.
¡Wáchale!
Ping! Ping! Ping!
I break things.
“Loose Woman” is a poem in the collection titled Loose Woman by Sandra Cisneros. The poem has a very strong feminist vibe, with a particular writing style unlike anything we've read in class. Where the women we read about wrote in subdued tones and underlying messages, Cisneros boldly shouts her thoughts out loud about the perception of women writers, and perhaps even to a more personal extent, the perception of Chicana writers.
We analyzed many women writers in class whose quest for self-identity was under attack. In The Farming of Bones, Danticat's character Amabelle struggles between who she is ethnically, and who she is dutifully. She is a Haitian woman but she was raised by Spaniards who were also her employees. In this poem you get the sense that Sandra is also being attacked about who she is, Sandra herself having had struggled with her personal identity, moving back and forth between her Mexican side and the side that resides in the States.
In most of the lines, Cisneros says: 'They call me--'. They end in many variations such as 'A beast, a bitch, a witch, and a macha.’
The use of the word 'beast' implies that not only is she “othered” by that, but she is also something foreign to her perceivers. It could easily be that because she is a woman writing in such bold fashions she is seen as a beast, but it could just as easily mean that because she is a woman of color, a woman of Mexican descent, that what she is saying is animalistic and archaic in contrast to a Caucasian woman around that time writing such daring pieces. You also see the use of the word 'witch' and Mexican folklore is a strong and it's much too convenient to draw that conclusion from a Chicana writer.
The word Macha is also a personal stab at Cisneros, or whatever other woman Chicana writer there may be, because it is a Spanish word. Only Spanish speakers use that word to insinuate that not only is she restricted by misogyny in the Americas but is also being heavily attacked by those of her own culture.
Through her poetry, Cisneros beautifully illustrates the type of defiance that she herself, even in her own character: "The mob arrives with stones and sticks/to maim and lame and do me in/All the same, when I open my mouth/they wobble like gin." The first two lines mean her critics have all the necessary tools to label her as what she is (i.e. a bitch because she is a woman and also because she talks so freely about sensitive matters) but coming to the ending 'When I open my mouth, they wobble like gin' it seems that although she is ripe for attacking, once she opens her mouth and says her piece, they falter under the force and truth of her words.
This poem is not only defiance but also acceptance, shown in these lines: "I am the woman of myth and bullshit. (True. I authored some of it.)" and "I like the itch I provoke. The rustle of rumor like crinoline."
These are the words of a woman who is fully aware of the affect she is having on her male audience and isn’t afraid of the heft it holds. This poem is also a warning; near the end as she says 'I’m Bitch. Beast. Macha. Wachale! Ping! Ping! Ping! I break things.” She knows what is being said about her, she accepts it, and she is going to continue pushing forward, offering future and present critics a heads up that she intends to continue writing in the voice that she has always written in.
~Analysis by Lauren Ulugia