In “Mrs. Charles Bliss,” a woman looks back bitterly on a marriage she stayed in only because a minister and a judge told her divorce would harm the children. She and her husband “stuck to the end of the path,” but the home was divided: two children took her side, two took his, and all four suffered from guilt, blame, and the impossible task of admiring both parents equally. The speaker’s tone is weary and accusing. She compares raising children in such a cold, loveless house to growing plants in a cellar—twisted, yellow, weak—and to feeding a baby diseased milk. The final repetition of “Preachers and judges!” lands like a curse. The mood is claustrophobic and sorrowful, but also sharp with anger at authority figures who, she feels, protected a marriage at the children’s expense.
Mrs. Charles Bliss — Summary
Reverend Wiley advised me not to divorce him For the sake of the children, And Judge Somers advised him the same. So we stuck to the end of the path. But two of the children thought he was right, And two of the children thought I was right. And the two who sided with him blamed me, And the two who sided with me blamed him, And they grieved for the one they sided with. And all were torn with the guilt of judging, And tortured in soul because they could not admire Equally him and me. Now every gardener knows that plants grown in cellars Or under stones are twisted and yellow and weak. And no mother would let her baby suck Diseased milk from her breast. Yet preachers and judges advise the raising of souls Where there is no sunlight, but only twilight, No warmth, but only dampness and cold— Preachers and judges!