Summary
"Sea Violet" is one of several poems in H.D.'s first collection, Sea Garden, that compares a traditional flower to a version of that species growing seaside. In "Sea Violet," the speaker begins by describing the fragility of the sea violet, and its position by the shore facing the wind. She then mentions the blue violets up on the hill that do not have to contend with the sea, and offers her view that the sea violet, in its resilience and singularity, is far more valuable than a cluster of blue violets in a sheltered meadow. The poem, rather than simply praising a certain kind of flower, functions as a symbol for a new femininity that trumps outdated patriarchal principles.
Analysis
The poem begins with a description of the white violet, which is scented and growing seaside. Like many of H.D.'s poems about flowers, the violet garners the most meaning as a symbol of female identity. The speaker describes the "sea-violet" as "fragile as agate," a kind of rock. This simile is a slight oxymoron, because rock is generally sturdy, perhaps signifying that a woman can and should have vulnerabilities and strength. Traditional gender norms, with their rigid dualisms, allows little space for this kind of complexity. One could argue that some of the worst violence and mayhem in history has been caused by masculine pride—a toxic manhood that refuses to see vulnerability as a strength, or respect those who have suffered. Historically, women have frequently done the opposite—forming communities to take care of men and women during times of strife, acknowledging limits and weaknesses, and talking, listening, and commiserating in order to heal. With this historical background, we can see how the phrase "fragile as agate" is highly pointed and suggestive—reminding the reader of the historical discrepancy between masculinity and femininity.
Further, given that agate is known for both its fine grains and its variation in color, the speaker insinuates that a woman has diverse, multitudinous, and even contradictory qualities, and that not all women are the same. Put another way, a woman's character has richness and multiplicity, just like a man's.
In the next part of the first stanza, the speaker notes that the sea violet "lies fronting all the wind"—emphasizing that despite its fragility, it is bravely facing and surviving difficult circumstances. The word "fronting" could also insinuate that the sea violet does not prioritize modesty, something that tradition has always demanded of women. Yet another association comes from the comparison of these sea violets to the blue violets of the next stanza, in that the sea violets are perhaps out of their typical comfort zone. In a literal sense, the flower is not as safe as the blue violets on the hill. In a symbolic sense, the sea violets represent a new femininity that does not stay out of certain realms deemed too rough for them.
The speaker then observes that the sea violet lies "among the torn shells / on the sand-bank." The torn shells could evoke the scene of destruction to which the sea violet and the shells are subjected. They could also function as a symbol of the prolific violence and damage that women have experienced at the hands of men, sometimes surviving, and other times dying. This reality makes the survival of the fragile sea violet even more poignant. The "torn shells" could also be reminiscent of gun shells, reminding the reader of the women throughout history who have been left to reckon with the detritus and rubble of war after men have fallen. Another association with the word shell is the shell of humanity that is left if a woman were to truly conform to the myriad demands of misogyny. However, the sea violet is still standing, and has not succumbed to the disintegrated state of the seashells.
In the second stanza, the speaker acknowledges the blue violets, a type of violet that sits innocently and unharmed on a hill. The speaker wonders—with a vehemence evidenced by her repetition of the phrase "who would change for these"—why anyone would value these blue violets more than their rugged and resilient counterparts.
In the third and last stanza, the speaker re-emphasizes the value, intensity, and sublimity of the sea violet. The flower is so radiant and potent in its reflection of light that the speaker compares it to the glittering, pervasive nature of frost on a cold day, and the bright, awe-inspiring fire of faraway star. The speaker's use of the word "catch" is important, because the word suggests that the sea violet is active and full of agency, despite bearing harsh conditions. The metaphors of frost and fire also suggest that the sea violet contains a polarity rendering the flower rich, complex, and well-rounded. This statement reiterates the earlier theme of the female subject exhibiting a variety of traits: "fragile" and "fronting," "frail" and "fiery." Therefore this poem, in a simple but profound way, works to imagine an ideal that would give women permission to embody and exhibit their complexities without masculine insecurity, criticism, or disdain.
Additionally, the sea violet's place on the margins—the edge of the sand-bank or sand-hill—is a reminder that women are often marginalized or confined to the margins in society. However, the speaker also notes that the flower is like a star that "edges with its fire," reimagining the "edge," the margin, as something splendid and potent that has the power to move. Perhaps the speaker is suggesting that women, despite their placement on the edge, can still "edge" or move and flicker, fighting for visibility. Like fire, women are a force of life, reconstitution, and power that humanity cannot live without. Also, stars are ancient, and for now, still exist beyond the complete comprehension of men. In a scientific sense, the light we see is many years old; stars are literally lightyears ahead of us. Perhaps the metaphor of the star is not without its allusion to the ancient, mysterious, and discerning wisdom of the female spirit.
By the end of the poem, the speaker has insisted on the nuance of the sea violet's value, noting that the flower is both diminished and intensely present. The reader comes to understand that the sea violet, a symbol of the feminine, draws its value from its involvement in and exposure to life, as well as its strength and its brilliance. However, the sea violet's value does not come to light without an acknowledgment of how the flower has been hurt and harmed. The poem makes the case for this expansive, intelligent, and holistic view of femininity in place of a patronizing, shallow, and limiting ideal of womanhood perpetuated by the patriarchy.
