Rich acknowledges this collective journey in the last stanza when she writes, “We are, I am, you are / by cowardice or courage / the one who find our way / back to this scene.” Diving into ourselves is a continuous process, and it’s never an easy one.
Rich’s diver made me feel less alone, and if someone going through a breakup reads this column, I hope they feel a little less alone, too.
Like a wreck, a breakup is messy and scary, but as Rich puts it, it’s also home to “treasures that prevail.” Beneath my complicated emotions is a trove filled with excitement, opportunity, adventure and self-discovery; they were always there, but it literally took “Diving into the Wreck” to bring them to the surface.
Before reading the poem, I was diving alone, but once I entered Rich’s world, my mission merged with the diver’s.
In general, the data suggests that participants could interpret the allegorical messages in the Rich poem, not through abstract, disembodied processes, but rather through embodied simulations.
These results are considered in relationship to current theories in cognitive science on conceptual metaphor and allegory.
We can control our postbreakup actions, but not our emotional responses.
After ending a two-and-a-half year relationship during the end of June, that cycle of uncertainty has been a constant cloud over my head.
The poem follows a scuba diver as she descends into the ocean to explore a shipwreck and the treasures it left behind.
She describes the uneasiness of entering a dark, empty area by oneself and reveals her purpose for diving was to explore “the wreck and not the story of the wreck / the thing itself and not the myth.”I first read “Diving into the Wreck,” for professor Libbie Rifkin’s “Gender and Care in Modern U. Poetry” class last fall, but this time, while reading, I connected with the scuba diver in an intimate way.