Value
The traditional blue violets flit and quiver passively on the hill, existing where they're most expected and not facing any hardship from their environment. Perhaps this safe existence makes them appear physically or aesthetically "greater." According to the speaker of the poem, however, the sea violet, by contrast, is bravely "fronting" the wind despite its fragility, emitting a dazzling splendor despite its frailty, and standing amidst the broken sea shells having witnessed and endured destruction. As a result of interacting with the world, the white violet becomes more valuable than the typical blue violet, and the speaker questions who would ever give away a root of the white violet, even for an expanse of blue violets. The use of the words "fragile," "torn," and "frail," alongside the incredulous query "but who would change for these / who would change for these?" challenges typical notions of what makes an object or person worth valuing. Historically, the Western culture of which H.D. is a part has preferred that women stay in their expected roles, do not confront situations requiring toughness, and maintain a pristine and wholesome aesthetic. Furthermore, objects (and women) are often denigrated if they have aged, endured hardship, or become victims of oppressive circumstances. In this poem, H.D. rejects these norms and suggests that the female subject, symbolized by the sea violet, increases in value and brilliance by surviving difficult circumstances.
Bravery and Fierceness
In the first stanza, the speaker observes that the "sea-violet / fragile as agate, / lies fronting all the wind / among the torn shells." In the second stanza, she notes that "The greater blue violets / flutter on the hill." After these two statements, she then questions why anyone would value multiple blue violets more than even one root of a white violet. Therefore, it's clear that the contrast between the blue and white violets' existences speaks volumes about their substance and character, as symbols of a traditional femininity versus a revolutionary femininity. The white violet faces the brutality and damage of "all the wind" alongside the shells that have, similarly, been worn down by the elements. This description is a metaphor for women that boldly face difficult or oppressive circumstances, often entering territory where they are told they do not belong. Regardless, these women persevere and build communities of support. The blue violets, on the other hand, may seem greater when they first strike the eye, but as a symbol of traditional female ideals, they are passive, limited in experience, and valued for their looks. Clearly, this dichotomy implies that a better ideal is that of a woman who goes bravely and fiercely through the obstacles of life, enduring damage and pain, but growing in character. This modern woman, imagined by H.D., will not allow her value to be determined by pressure to be pure, homogenous, and aesthetically perfect.
Strength and Vulnerability
One problematic trope of traditional gender norms is the notion that one must either be strong, tough, and manly, or weak, vulnerable, and feminine—and that the two sets of traits are mutually exclusive. In "Sea Violet," H.D. uses the white "sea violet" to represent her new feminine ideal, and the blue violet to represent the female desired by hegemonic norms. One should note that the speaker describes the white violet as "fragile" and "frail," and yet also describes the tiny flower as "fronting" or confronting the mighty wind, and twinkling like the fire of a star. Additionally, she implies that just the root of one meager white sea violet—the root perhaps representing its core substance—is not worth trading for multiple blue violets. This positioning on the part of the speaker challenges the reader to rethink the dichotomies of strength versus weakness, and masculine versus feminine—the implication being that a woman can be both vulnerable and strong. This complexity makes a woman more valuable and human than our sexist culture's imagined ideal.
