January 25: #MeToo, Ursula K. Le Guin, "The Maenads"

Wanted to do this yesterday when I found out about the passing of writer Ursula K. Le Guin.  Groundbreaking artist.  Feminist.  Her book, A Wrinkle in Time, was one of the reasons why I wanted to become a writer.

Later in her life, Le Guin turned more and more to poetry, publishing several collections.  In this past year of #MeToo and the Women's March(es), I sort of feel like all the seeds that Le Guin had planted through the years were coming to bloom.  She really was a woman whose voice simply couldn't be ignored.

So, in her honor, I want to share her poem, "The Maenads."  It's about women in power.  Women who frighten men.  Women who protect.  Women who will not stay in any kind of box created for them.  That's the kind of woman Ursula K. Le Guin was.

Light a candle with Saint Marty for a voice crying out in the wilderness.

The Maenads

by:  Ursula K. Le Guin

Somewhere I read
that when they finally staggered off the mountain
into some strange town, past drunk,
hoarse, half naked, blear-eyed,
blood dried under broken nails
and across young thighs,
but still jeering and joking, still trying
to dance, lurching and yelling, but falling
dead asleep by the market stalls,
sprawled helpless, flat out, then
middle-aged women,
respectable housewives,
would come and stand nightlong in the agora
silent
together
as ewes and cows in the night fields,
guarding, watching them
as their mothers
watched over them.
And no man
dared
that fierce decorum.