Quilts

“Quilts” is a lyric poem that extends a simile from the first line over the whole poem. This simile compares the speaker to an object, so she is “[l]ike a fading piece of cloth” (Line 1), and it sets up an unbroken connection between the cloth and the speaker. A simile is a type of figurative language that compares two unlike things—and in this case—combines them into a single image. The speaker and the cloth become one image to make a particular point; we know the speaker is not literally a piece of fabric, but we accept her relationship to this object and learn why she feels connected to it. Because she is fading with age, the speaker thinks, “I am a failure” (Line 2); her thinking here shows an uneasiness with how usefulness is determined. She feels like this piece of cloth because fading aligns with failure for her.

In the next stanza, she clarifies that the object of the simile is a well-worn tablecloth: “No longer do I cover tables filled with food and laughter” (Line 3), which has been put away. The tablecloth here represents days of dinner parties, family gatherings, and joyful times with people loved by the speaker. Without food or laughter to brighten the speaker’s days, the tablecloth is put away. Giovanni chose a tablecloth for the simile because tableware and domestic acts like cooking are associated with women’s work in the gendered division of labor. The poem therefore meditates on what it feels like to be an older woman dealing with the stigma of aging.

The tablecloth knows that it no longer has the newness and strength to cover a table: “My seams are frayed my hems failing my strength no longer able / To hold the hot and cold” (Lines 4-5). The tablecloth is falling apart in the middle “seams” and around the edges at the ”hems” (Line 4). Like all things that age, the speaker’s body does not hold together like it did in her youth. Both the tablecloth and the speaker experience intolerance for extremes in temperature: They can no longer take the hot or cold. Older people can struggle with temperature regulation far more than younger people. Common concerns like this are what people might meditate on as they get older.

The speaker struggles to accept the changes to her body and the perceptions of beauty that society reserves for youth, especially young women. She wishes for “those first days” (Line 6), referring to her own years as a younger woman. When the tablecloth was first woven, it could “keep water / From seeping through” (Lines 7-8) and complete the purpose for which it was created: to protect the table. This part of the simile further demonstrates the wearing of an object as it ages and how it struggles to maintain a function that it could once do with no trouble. In the same way, a young human body bounces back from injury and recovers from illness with general ease. This image of water may also reference female incontinence—and seek to normalize a breakdown in function that happens to people as they age.

In the same stanza, the speaker recalls how the tablecloth “[r]epelled stains with the tightness of my weave” (Line 9). Before the tablecloth frayed, stains could be removed from the tight fabric; this weave wore down over time and allowed the stains to remain. The speaker, too, could repel critique while full of youthful confidence. The stains here could be the strain of constant comments women field about their work, bodies, and decisions. Older women have a lifetime of answering these questions—and over the years—they may become weary and worn out with the new expectations placed on them.

The “tightness of my weave” also references Black beauty standards, which aging further complicates. In this case, the speaker celebrates the beauty of her hair when it was full and styled the way she prefers. Hair thins out and greys over time, making it harder to treat and style the same way. The speaker remembers when she: “[d]azzled the sunlight with my / Reflection” (Lines 10-11) or—metaphorically—looked so lovely she turned the sun’s ability to dazzle back. The glow of her youthful loveliness and well-coiffed hair was too great for the sun itself. This stanza also plays into the idea that beauty belongs to the young and speaks to the insecurity that humans might feel as their bodies change over time.

Yet the following stanza balances this insecurity out with a statement of contentment: “I grow old though pleased with my memories” (Line 12). The speaker’s memories of the past compensate for her body’s weaknesses; she is pleased with the experiences she lived through. Here she relishes the “tasks I can no longer complete” because they “Are balanced by the love of the tasks gone past” (Lines 13-14). Though the speaker lost her ability to do some tasks, she remembers how she enjoyed them, and these memories remain to mitigate her loss.

Next, the speaker pulls back from the simile and gets to the purpose of the poem: She will not apologize for getting older “I offer no apology” (Line 15), she affirms. This poem is also a request to the reader, a “plea” (Line 16). The speaker has her memories now, but memory fades too. The plea contains instructions on how to deal with the speaker and her fading memory.

With her plea set up, the speaker dives back into the simile of the faded tablecloth. She knows that—like the cloth—she will continue to atrophy: “When I am frayed and strained and drizzle at the end” (Line 17), the speaker says. This breakdown of her substance is inevitable as age and death draw closer. So the speaker gets to her request: “Please someone cut a square and put me in a quilt / That I might keep some child warm” (Lines 18-19). The speaker wants the tablecloth repurposed into part of a quilt to preserve this physical form and memory. This shows how people find new purpose through different phases of their lives and preserve their memories after death. Here the speaker requests that her essence be remade to help others, for example, keeping a child warm.

This plea circles back to a writer’s purpose: to speak with their readers outside the bounds of time. Giovanni’s books touch a wide readership, from children to the elderly. Likewise, the speaker pleads that she remains in the tapestry of well-regarded artists. In this quilt of poetic luminaries, she can continue to converse with her readership after her time on earth. Most importantly, she desires the company of those she can comfort with her words, like young children or “some old person with no one else to talk to” (Line 20). Her immortality extends to care for vulnerable people: warming, whispering, and cuddling them so that they feel less alone. Instead of a grand legacy, she requests her legacy focus on tenderness and shielding her readership with love.