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The Prodigal — Elizabeth Bishop
The poem is split into two sonnets.
First Sonnet
The brown enormous odor he lived by was too close, with its breathing and thick hair,
The opening immediately immerses us in filth and stench, personifying the “odor” as a living presence. The synaesthesia (smell described as “enormous” and “breathing”) gives the environment a disgusting feel. It symbolises the moral decay and self-inflicted confinement of the prodigal.
for him to judge. The floor was rotten; the sty
was plastered halfway up with glass-smooth dung.
He has grown numb to the smell, which he can no longer “judge”. The rotting floor and glass-smooth dung create vivid texture and imagery, showing Bishop’s painterly precision. The physical decay mirrors the spiritual rot of the narrator.
Light-lashed, self-righteous, above moving snouts,
the pigs’ eyes followed him, a cheerful stare –even to the sow that
always ate her young-till sickening, he leaned to scratch her head.
The oxymoron “self-righteous” for pigs adds irony: they are innocent in their filth, yet seem to judge him. The “light-lashed” eyes evoke both sunlight and a whip — a flicker of conscience or divine awareness. Their “cheerful stare” contrasts with his self-loathing.
The contrast between the animalistic features of the pig and the human need for companionship is highlighted as the narrator scratches the pig’s head in an attempt to seek friendship with the animal.
But sometimes morning after drinking bouts (he hid
the pints behind a two-by-four),
This line exposes his alcoholism and shame. The informal tone contrasts with the elevated imagery, grounding the poem in real, pitiful detail. The hiding of bottles symbolises denial and secrecy.
the sunrise glazed the barnyard mud with red;
the burning puddles seemed to reassure.
A brief moment of beauty amid the horror. The red light may symbolise blood, guilt, or false redemption. “Burning puddles” evoke the fire of hell as well as warmth. We can see that he is reassured by this sunlight and feels better about himself and the world.
And then he thought he almost might endure
his exile yet another year or more.
The stanza ends with tragic irony. “Exile” alludes to the Biblical parable of the Prodigal Son, but here the son remains away. He rationalises his suffering, clinging to routine rather than seeking forgiveness. He thinks that he can cope in these surroudnings for another year.
Second Sonnet
But evenings the first star came to warn.
The star, traditionally a symbol of guidance (as in the Star of Bethlehem), here becomes a warning — a sign of conscience or approaching judgement. The contrast between day (false comfort) and evening (truth) underscores his inner struggle.
The farmer whom he worked for came at dark to shut the cows and horses in the barn beneath their overhanging clouds of hay.
The introduction of the farmer highlights how low this man has fallen, as the animals are deemed to be more important than him as they are valuable to the farmer. The cows and horses are living in comfort, emphasised bu the ‘clouds of hay,’ they sleep on. This is contrasted with the prodigal, who is living in filth and squalor.
with pitchforks, faint forked lightnings, catching light, safe and companionable as in the ark. The pigs stuck out their little feet and snored.
Again the animals are contrasted with the prodigal. The poet uses another biblical allusion, with a reference to Noah’s ark, where two of every animal were taken on board to escape an impending flood. The animals are safe and have companions, unlike the prodigal, who is alone and is living a life of degradation. The onomatopoeia of the pig’s snoring highlights the comfort of the pigs who are asleep unlike the poet who must get drunk to fall asleep.
The lantern—like the sun, going away—
laid on the mud a pacing aureole.
Carrying a bucket along a slimy board, he felt the bats’
uncertain staggering flight
A stunning simile and religious image. The “aureole” (halo) sanctifies the mud, suggesting fleeting grace within filth. The lantern’s light is “going away”, hinting that the earlier reassurance that he felt is disappearing before his eyes. The imagery of light versus darkness is stark and the hopelessness is easy to imagine as the light disappears. The prodigal is now busy at work and the reference to the bats’ uncertain staggering flight shows, that like the bats, the narrator has no control over where he is going in life.
His shuddering insights, beyond his control, touching him. But
it took him a long time finally to make his mind up to go home.
The ending is understated but moving. The phrase “a long time” conveys the painful slowness of repentance. Unlike the Biblical prodigal, Bishop’s figure achieves no dramatic redemption — only the decision to begin returning. The tone is one of quiet endurance and faint hope.
Summary of Structure and Meaning
| Aspect | Description |
|---|---|
| Form | Two unrhymed sonnets (14 lines each). The structure mirrors the Biblical movement from sin to redemption, though Bishop halts at the moment before return. |
| Narrative voice | Third person, detached and compassionate. The tone avoids self-pity, reflecting Bishop’s restraint. |
| Themes | Exile, addiction, shame, self-deception, the slow approach to redemption. |
| Symbols | Pigs = degradation but also acceptance; light = grace or understanding; mud = moral filth; the star = conscience. |
| Style | Vivid, sensory imagery; compressed diction; ironic contrasts between beauty and squalor. |
Autobiographical Resonance
- Bishop herself struggled with alcoholism and feelings of exile — she lived much of her life abroad (Brazil, the U.S., Canada).
- The sty becomes a metaphor for her own sense of moral and emotional confinement.
- Her tone of detached compassion reflects her lifelong belief in art as control — transforming pain into precise observation.
Concluding Insight
“The Prodigal” transforms the Biblical parable into a modern meditation on human weakness and endurance. Bishop’s restrained, painterly imagery allows us to see beauty even in degradation. The poem ends not with salvation but with the courage to imagine it — a quiet triumph of awareness over despair.