“One Art” by Elizabeth Bishop [pg 37]

After skimming through the book, “One Art” is the first poem that caught my attention because of its topic. To me, the poem became absurd after reading it a few times since Bishop describes loss as art. The art of losing is hardly an art at all. When I hear the word “art” I would think of something a person chooses to do, which takes discipline and practice to reach as close to perfection in that activity (such as calligraphy and music, but this is my opinion). This poem stuck out since it reminded me of reading some article name “The Art of Killing” from a magazine. Both pieces caught my attention for being ridiculous until I got to the real meaning of it.
Bishop structures the poem in stanzas of three lines rhyming in an ABA ABA ABA scheme, although exceptions to this exist. Each verse tells what loss is according to the speaker. It can be losing the material things (door keys) or the intangible (the hour badly spent). Losing something, for example, could be losing one’s childhood from growing older and inheriting new responsibilities and privileges. From my experience, it can be losing one’s old identity from going to a college away from home. As a whole, the poem can relate to Bishop’s own life since she went through traumatic experiences, such as a lack of parental support growing up [pg. 22]. That is also why I see the author is the speaker reciting her own poem. For example, she mentions losing material processions such her mother’s watch and her three houses. What gets me is why she lost them. Did she needed money and sold the watch or did she simply misplace it? Did she lose her house to a fire? An earthquake? Through a divorce? Each verse gives insight to the speaker yet leaves open-ended questions on why such events occurred.
In essence, loss is a universal experience; it is essentially how life progresses for an individual. She holds an attitude of acceptance of human mortality. She shows no negativity towards loss since it is something that people cannot avoid. She has come to terms with the fact that loss is part of life. Although I saw this poem as ridiculous when I first read it, loss has become more of an art form. The actual concept of “loss” may not be the “one art” mentioned in the title, but dealing with and accepting it as a part of life is the true art.