Summary
The fish breathes in air, which is dangerous for it, through bloody gills. The speaker notes that these gills are frightening and sharp, capable of cutting. She thinks about the inside of the fish: its white flesh and various bones, its red and black internal organs, and its flower-like swim bladder. His eyes are bigger than her own but are shallow and yellow-tinted. They look both as if they have a background of tinfoil, and as if they are being seen through a layer of isinglass—a translucent substance that is in fact made from the swim bladder of fish. Though the fish's eyes move, the speaker observes that they are not so much looking back at her as they are passively falling in the direction of the light.
Analysis
The poem here continues to get its momentum through juxtaposition—the juxtaposition of the familiar and the strange, the human and the animal, the ugly and the beautiful. Take, for instance, Bishop's description of the fish's entrails, with their "dramatic reds and blacks." This description in and of itself contains surprising, ironic contrasts, with the unappealing imagery of internal organs described in almost artistic and lush terms. Meanwhile, the animal's swim bladder, among its most alien attributes, is compared to a peony. Throughout the poem, Bishop employs flower imagery, linking the fish to terrestrial rather than marine life. Moreover, images of roses and peonies carry associations with prettiness and femininity. While these comparisons to appealing and familiar objects suggest the speaker's growing affinity for the fish, she is also clearly fascinated by its elusiveness.
Take, for instance, the poem's description of the fish's eyes. This description focuses on what distinguishes the fish from the speaker: its eyes differ in size, depth, and sheen from her own. To illustrate the appearance of the eyes she uses the figurative image of tinfoil, taken from the human world. But she also uses that of isinglass—which in turn hearkens back to the fish's body and to its ultimate difference from her own. The speaker's observation that the fish can't seem to return her gaze suggests that, even as she holds power over it, it maintains another type of power over her. She has the ability to let it live or die, as well as the ability to observe it closely—but the fish maintains its unknowability, and refuses to observe the speaker in return. The basic functions of its mind and body are inconceivable for a human observer.
