In Adrienne Rich's "The Knight" (1957) from "Snapshots of a Daughter-in-Law" (1963), the knight reflects the light of the sun at noon and thus stands in the center of things. But the light's reflection in his armor becomes "a thousand splintered suns," while "under the radiant casque", his clothes are "rags and tatters", his nerves "worn to ribbons". This image of the harmful effect of a mythical masculinity on the wearer of such armor connects Rich's poem with works like Allen Ginsberg's "Howl" (1956) that more explicitly challenged the era's conformity and representations of gender, as Rich later began doing with the title poem of the collection "The Knight" appears in. (Andrew Shields, #111words, 26 March 2021)
The Knight
Adrienne Rich, "Snapshots of a Daughter-in-Law"
A knight rides into the noon,
and his helmet points to the sun,
and a thousand splintered suns
are the gaiety of his mail.
The soles of his feet glitter
and his palms flash in reply,
and under his crackling banner
he rides like a ship in sail.
A knight rides into the noon,
and his only eye is living,
a lump of bitter jelly
set in a metal mask,
betraying rags and tatters
that cling to the flesh beneath
and wear his nerves to ribbons
under the radiant casque.
Who will unhorse this rider
and free him from between
the walls of iron, the emblems
crushing his chest with their weight?
Will they defeat him gently,
or leave him hurled on the green,
his rags and wounds still hidden
under the great breastplate?
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