The Mountain Summary & Analysis

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The Full Text of “The Mountain”

The Full Text of “The Mountain”

  • “The Mountain” Introduction

    • "The Mountain" is a free verse poem by American writer and artist Elizabeth Bishop, composed in Brazil and first published in Poetry magazine in 1952. Taking the perspective of an ancient, isolated mountain, the poem details the daily discomforts and emotional turmoil that accompany growing older. The speaker seems to have lost track of time and, with it, a coherent sense of self. Ultimately, the descriptions of the mountain and its landscape produce an extended metaphor for the aging process, with its difficult and often painful transformations.

  • “The Mountain” Summary

    • At night, I can sense something behind me. I suddenly start moving, but after only a moment, I flinch or stumble to a stop and grow hot. I don't know how old I am.

      By the morning, everything has changed. The surrounding world is like an open book that challenges me to read it, but is too close to read comfortably. Tell me my age.

      Next, the valleys around me accumulate thick clouds of mist that fog up my senses, as if stuffing cotton into my ears. I don't know how old I am.

      I'm sorry to complain; I try not to. People say that my confusion is deserved. Nobody gives me any information. Tell me my age.

      The most entrenched division can gradually flatten out like a tattoo whose lines have blurred over time. I don't know how old I am.

      Night falls. Daylight rises, the lights climbing up quickly—Oh, you bright young things never stick around as long as I'd like! Tell me my age.

      Wings, rigid as if turned to stone, have drifted to the ground around me, the feathers piling up and hardening (perhaps compacting into new rock). The birds' claws have been lost somewhere in the mix. I've lost track of my age.

      I'm losing my hearing. Birdsong becomes fainter and rushing water is allowed to flow unchecked. How old am I? Tell me my age.

      Bring on the nighttime—the moon and stars can hang out at their leisure. I just want to know my age. Tell me.

  • “The Mountain” Themes

    • Theme The Pain, Confusion, and Isolation of Aging

      The Pain, Confusion, and Isolation of Aging

      To the speaker of this poem, growing old feels a lot like turning into an ancient, lonely mountain. Reaching old age has left the speaker cut off from the living world: the speaker feels as if they've lost their identity, their community, and even their place in time. The speaker's desperate longing to regain some of what's been lost—or at least to be acknowledged by the surrounding world—suggests that aging can be a painful and isolating process, like turning to stone.

      Time has clearly taken a toll on the elderly speaker's body and senses; the speaker now feels less like a person than like a frozen, helpless rock. They describe the ailments of old age as if their body has transformed into an ancient mountain. It's also possible, in the imaginative world of the poem, that the speaker really is a mountain. Either way, all this rock imagery symbolizes old age and the way that it feels to helplessly watch the world pass you by.

      The speaker goes on to describe some of the specific struggles that come with aging. They're "growing deaf," for instance, and feel as though thick "mists" have been stuffed into their ears. They imagine their incontinence as "waterfalls" that "go unwiped," are confused and disoriented by their surroundings, and also seem to be losing mobility: they can only "start for a second" before stumbling to a quick "halt," as if shaken by an earthquake or some other natural disruption.

      The speaker's dim recollections of youth seem only to heighten their present pain. The mountainous landscape is littered with the hardened "feathers" of birds with lost "claws," which might represent the speaker's youth and vitality. Such things now exist only as fossilized reminders of the speaker's past and all the things they can no longer do.

      Trapped in this mountain-like stillness, the speaker finds it hard to connect with their surroundings. Imagining the "clambering lights" of day as "children," the speaker wistfully exclaims that "[they] never stay long enough." Moreover, those "children" don’t show the speaker any empathy, nor does the rest of the environment. Instead, the speaker claims, "They say it is my fault" and "Nobody tells me anything." In other words, the speaker feels cut off from the lively, active world of the young—and also feels neglected by that world.

      Ultimately, the speaker feels so old that they've lost contact with a human time scale; they're trapped in a kind of geological ancientness. The speaker repeats, "I do not know my age" and begs the reader to "Tell me how old I am," suggesting that they may have lost their memory—and thus their sense of how they fit into the world. Even such identity markers as the speaker's birthday, the "Deepest demarcation" there is, seem "blurred" past understanding. For this speaker, then, growing old feels bewildering, uncomfortable, and restrictive, like turning into a massive lump of stone.

      Where this theme appears in the poem:
      • Lines 1-36
  • Line-by-Line Explanation & Analysis of “The Mountain”

    • Lines 1-4

      At evening, something ...
      ... know my age.

      Before "The Mountain" even begins, its title tips readers off to the extended metaphor that will shape the poem: the speaker takes on the perspective of an ancient, isolated mountain, likening the aging process to turning into a helpless block of stone.

      As the first stanza then begins, the poem establishes the speaker's disorientation and fear:

      • It's "evening," meaning it's dark out, and the speaker can sense that there's "something" behind them. Right away, then, the poem is filled with uneasy suspense. Given that the speaker is presented as a mountain, it's possible that this something is in fact the sun going down.
      • In the next line, this "something" outright startles the speaker, who "start[s] for a second" and then flinches, indicating fear, pain, and/or surprise. "Blench"—the term chosen to describe the speaker's sudden reaction—also means to grow pale and further suggests that the speaker is afraid.
      • After flinching, the speaker "staggeringly halt[s] and burn[s]." The word "staggeringly" indicates that the speaker's movements are awkward or uneven. But this term is typically used to describe something astounding or surprising, so it also strengthens the impression that the speaker is alarmed—perhaps at whatever presence the speaker senses behind them, or perhaps at their own immobility.
      • Meanwhile, "burn" indicates that the speaker grows hot, likely out of fear or embarrassment.

      These movements recall an earthquake or some other disturbance in the earth's crust (which is triggered by activity in the mantle, perhaps brought to mind by the word "burn"). This initial description also implies that the mountain of the poem's title is inactive—that it's no longer growing, but rather has been left to slowly erode with time. Its only movements are brief, awkward, and uninvited.

      The first stanza then concludes with the simple statement, "I do not know my age," which will be repeated as a refrain throughout the poem. This stark line clues readers into the fact that all this mountain-related language is really a way of describing what it feels like to grow old—so old that the speaker begins to forget how long they've actually been alive! The literal darkness of evening here thus becomes symbolic of the aging speaker's confusion and lack of awareness about what's happening around them.

      The sounds of the poem itself add to its detached, melancholy tone. Note, for example, its use of accentual trimeter: most lines here have three stressed beats, with varying numbers of unstressed syllables between them. Here's a look at the meter in lines 1-2, for instance:

      At evening, something behind me.
      I start for a second, I blench,

      There are three strong beats per line, and this relatively repetitive cadence might reflect the monotony of the speaker's daily life. The fact that all the lines here are clearly end-stopped, meanwhile, creates a plodding pace. The poem's relatively sluggish cadence and clear pauses might reflect the slow movements of the speaker's aging body.

    • Lines 5-8

      In the morning ...
      ... old I am.

    • Lines 9-12

      And then the ...
      ... know my age.

    • Lines 13-16

      I do not ...
      ... old I am.

    • Lines 17-20

      The deepest demarcation ...
      ... know my age.

    • Lines 21-24

      Shadows fall down; ...
      ... old I am.

    • Lines 25-28

      Stone wings have ...
      ... know my age.

    • Lines 29-32

      I am growing ...
      ... old I am.

    • Lines 33-36

      Let the moon ...
      ... old I am.

  • “The Mountain” Symbols

    • Symbol Day and Night

      Day and Night

      Throughout the poem, the speaker contrasts day and night, which come to represent awareness versus ignorance. The speaker seeks knowledge—particularly of their own age—and finds it scary and confusing to be ignorant ("in the dark," so to speak). However, they don't feel at home in the glaring light of awareness, either, as it only exposes the full extent of their decline and limitations.

      The poem begins in the evening, which is presented as mysterious and frightening to the speaker. The speaker then explains that "it is different" in the morning, but the knowledge that daylight offers is "too close," too immediate. Unable to "read" their surroundings comfortably, the speaker grows more aware of their own limitations in the stark light of day.

      The speaker again contrasts day and night in the second half of the poem, emphasizing the exuberant vitality of light. The knowledge that the "Clambering lights" of dawn represent always escapes the speaker; it "never stay[s] long enough"—unlike ignorance, represented by night, which "fall[s] down" heavily on the speaker.

      In the end, the speaker seems willing to remain in the dark ("Let the moon go hang […]"), as long as they're permitted to know the simple fact of their own age. This glimmer of self-understanding—a small acknowledgment of their identity and worth—is all it would take, it seems, for the speaker to accept living in confusion, with the light of insight passing them by.

      Where this symbol appears in the poem:
      • Lines 1-3: “At evening, something behind me. / I start for a second, I blench, / or staggeringly halt and burn.”
      • Lines 5-7: “In the morning it is different. / An open book confronts me, / too close to read in comfort.”
      • Lines 21-23: “Shadows fall down; lights climb. / Clambering lights, oh children! / you never stay long enough”
      • Lines 33-34: “Let the moon go hang, / the stars go fly their kites”
    • Symbol Birds

      Birds

      The second half of the poem contains several lines' worth of bird imagery, which comes to symbolize the speaker's loss of youthful vitality. More broadly, it represents the fleeting nature of life and the decay that affects all living things.

      First, the speaker—an ancient mountain, or an elderly person who feels like one—describes the rocky landscape around them as filled with "Stone wings" that have fallen to earth:

      Stone wings have sifted here
      with feathers hardening feathers.
      The claws are lost somewhere.

      There's a strong sense of loss in these lines: birds are soft creatures that can fly away to freedom, but these "wings" have fallen to earth and "harden[ed]" into permanence. Meanwhile, the fierce "claws" that can attack, clutch, and so on are lost to time. The speaker feels weighed down and helpless.

      The speaker then describes how their growing deafness makes "Bird-calls" seem to "dribble" faintly rather than resonate. Birdsong is typically associated with joy, beauty, and the youthful renewal of springtime, but the speaker, in old age, feels cut off from these things.

      In other words, this symbolism helps show how trapped and isolated the ancient speaker feels. It evokes a loss of beauty, communication, ferocity, and freedom, suggesting various facets of the speaker's experience that have faded with time.

      Where this symbol appears in the poem:
      • Lines 25-26: “Stone wings have sifted here / with feathers hardening feathers”
      • Line 27: “The claws are lost somewhere.”
      • Lines 29-30: “Bird-calls / dribble”
  • “The Mountain” Poetic Devices & Figurative Language

    • Alliteration

      Alliteration appears throughout "The Mountain," highlighting key images and ideas. For instance, the poem's opening lines feature /s/ and /b/ sounds (which combine with the assonance of short /eh/ sounds for even more punch):

      I start for a second, I blench,
      or staggeringly halt and burn.

      Here, alliteration creates sonic interest that helps draw the reader into the poem. Alliteration also helps shape the poem's mood, reflecting the images and events the speaker describes. In the second stanza, for instance, daylight "confronts" the speaker with a book that's "too close to read in comfort." The harsh, plosive /k/ sounds reinforce the characterization of daytime as hostile and unsettling.

      Later, in lines 21-22, the speaker describes the liveliness of sunrise (and/or other lights in the morning sky) using /k/and /l/ alliteration and /i/ assonance: "lights climb. / Clambering lights [...]" The lights here seem to represent knowledge and understanding, which constantly elude the speaker ("never stay long enough"). Repetitive sounds evoke the way they energetically "clamber" out of reach.

      Alliterative /n/ sounds also appear in one of the poem's two refrains, adding force to the speaker's complaint: "I do not know my age." Combined with repetition, this effect helps makes the statement memorable, strongly conveying the speaker's suffering as well as their desire to understand themselves.

      Where alliteration appears in the poem:
      • Line 2: “start,” “second,” “blench”
      • Line 3: “staggeringly,” “burn”
      • Line 4: “not,” “know”
      • Line 6: “confronts”
      • Line 7: “close,” “comfort”
      • Line 12: “not,” “know”
      • Line 13: “not,” “mean”
      • Line 17: “deepest,” “demarcation”
      • Line 18: “slowly,” “spread,” “sink”
      • Line 20: “not,” “know”
      • Line 21: “lights,” “climb”
      • Line 22: “Clambering,” “lights”
      • Line 27: “claws,” “lost”
      • Line 28: “not,” “know”
      • Line 30: “waterfalls”
      • Line 31: “unwiped,” “What”
    • Apostrophe

    • End-Stopped Line

    • Imagery

    • Metaphor

    • Personification

    • Refrain

    • Simile

  • "The Mountain" Vocabulary

    Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.

    • Blench
    • Staggeringly
    • Inpenetrable
    • Demarcation
    • Clambering
    • Sifted
    • (Location in poem: Line 2: “I start for a second, I blench,”)

      "Blench" can mean two things:

      1. Move suddenly (due to fear, pain, etc.); flinch.
      2. Grow pale.

      Both meanings suggest that the speaker is afraid.

  • Form, Meter, & Rhyme Scheme of “The Mountain”

    • Form

      "The Mountain" doesn't adhere to the rules of any traditional poetic form. Instead, it follows its own unique structure. Each stanza has four lines, with the final line alternating between two refrains: "I do not know my age" and "Tell me how old I am."

      This structure somewhat resembles the villanelle, a poetic form that also features alternating refrains at the end of each stanza. In the final lines of a villanelle, the refrains are directly paired for the first time, creating a strong sense of closure. However, in this poem, the final stanza contains a modified form of the first refrain, denying the audience a crisp resolution. The modified line—"I want to know my age"—sounds insistent and desperate, reinforcing the idea that the speaker's pleas go perpetually unanswered.

      Closing stanza after stanza, the refrains provide order and regularity, as if punctuating each new statement. In this way, they highlight the speaker's fixation on the aging process. The consistent refrains also give the poem a song-like quality, making the speaker's monologue more poignant and memorable.

      Overall, the poem's structure is repetitive but flows unevenly, due to the inconsistent meter and subtle variations in the refrains. It therefore reflects both the monotony of the speaker's life and the speaker's awkwardness as they struggle with the pain of aging.

    • Meter

      This poem is mostly written in accentual trimeter, meaning that there most lines contain three strong beats. These stresses can fall in any pattern, so they are surrounded by a varying number of unstressed syllables. Here's a look at the meter in the poem's opening lines, for example:

      At evening, something behind me.
      I start for a second, I blench,
      or staggeringly halt and burn.
      I do not know my age.

      The meter isn't exact (some lines have more than three stressed beats, and some lines are open to interpretation) but this generally gives the poem a pulsating regularity that reflects the speaker's repetitive existence. At the same time, variations in the pattern help maintain the poem's informal, conversational tone. These disruptions also suggest disturbances in the speaker's life: for example, when the speaker discusses deafness and uncleanliness in lines 29-31:

      I am growing deaf. Bird-calls
      dribble and the waterfalls
      go unwiped. What is my age?

      Notice how the scattered stresses create a halting rhythm that seems to reflect the "dribbl[ing]" of the waterfalls, as well as the general sense of confusion and disorder in this stanza.

    • Rhyme Scheme

      This poem does not follow a rhyme scheme, and it contains very few rhymes of any kind. This keeps things feeling conversational and unpredictable.

      The few rhymes that do crop up, meanwhile, call attention to important images and ideas. For instance, there's a slant rhyme between "here" and "somewhere" (lines 25 and 27), a pair of words that reinforces the poem's themes of dislocation and loss. (The "Stone wings" are "here," but "The claws are lost somewhere"—and the speaker doesn't know where.) There's also an end rhyme between "Bird-calls" and "waterfalls" in the poem's penultimate stanza, which encourages readers to consider the relationship between these two words. Both are natural images that hint at the speaker’s advanced age: the speaker can no longer clearly hear the "Bird-calls" around them or wipe the "waterfalls" that run down their body.

  • “The Mountain” Speaker

    • The speaker is anonymous and reveals very little information about themselves. For instance, the speaker's gender (if any) and personal history remain unstated. In fact, the speaker seems uncertain about many facets of their own identity, which has "blurred" over time, and is especially confused about their age. This uncertainty encourages the reader to empathize with the speaker, who yearns to regain their lost self-knowledge.

      Based on the poem's title, the speaker appears to be pleading with the audience from the perspective of an isolated, ancient mountain. (Another possibility is that they're human, and their "mountainness" is a metaphor for their personal condition.)

      What is clear is that the speaker is very old. The speaker vividly describes their struggles to perceive their surroundings and remember details about their life. At the same time, they insist they "do not mean to complain." They seem to want companionship ("oh children! / you never stay long enough") and to feel like themselves again. The speaker is persistent and tenacious; they make short, authoritative statements and repeat the questions they most want answered, despite the lack of acknowledgment they receive.

  • “The Mountain” Setting

    • This poem takes place amid a scenic mountain range, complete with misty "valleys," birdsong, and "waterfalls." The poem’s aging speaker takes the perspective of one of the mountains, characterizing it as ancient, lonely, and isolated from the vibrant surrounding world.

      Misty valleys block the speaker's hearing, drowning out the lovely birdsong (a metaphor for hearing loss). Meanwhile, waterfalls, which erode mountains, are left "unwiped" to wreak havoc—perhaps a metaphor for incontinence. The earth is also scattered with lost bird claws and feathers, which serve as reminders of the freedom and agility that the speaker has lost.

      The setting thus isn't so idyllic for the speaker; rather than comforting them, it seems to taunt them or confront them with their own limitations. The transformation of a beautiful, vital landscape into a site of pain and a reminder of loss reinforces the poem's implication that aging reshapes one's experience of the world.

  • Literary and Historical Context of “The Mountain”

    • Literary Context

      Elizabeth Bishop was a celebrated American poet, as well as a short story writer and painter. Bishop's first collection, North and South, was published in 1946 and her second in 1955. Bishop won the Pulitzer Prize for the 1955 collection North & South / A Cold Spring, which contained poems from the first collection as well as new works. "The Mountain" appeared in Poetry magazine in the decade between these two popular collections, but after its publication in 1952, it was never collected in a volume during Bishop's lifetime.

      Bishop created visual art throughout her life and kept multimedia journals. Her work is often described as imagistic, as she tends not to state her experiences outright or present a narrative, but to observe the world and encode her conclusions in minute descriptive details—often while exploring themes like belonging, loss, and yearning.

      While she was at Vassar College, Bishop met Marianne Moore, who was already a leading figure in the poetry world. Moore encouraged Bishop's poetry, and the two writers remained friends throughout their lives, corresponding often. Moore's sharp descriptions and observational style were a major influence on Bishop's work.

      After she met the prominent poet Robert Lowell in 1947, he became her chief literary companion and correspondent. Lowell was a pioneer of confessionalist poetry, which featured specific, unaltered details from real-life experiences, such as childhood trauma and psychological breakdowns. Although she encouraged Lowell, Bishop resisted the confessional mode and often criticized its other practitioners.

      Some elements of Bishop's personal life do seep into her poems ("Sestina" and "In the Waiting Room" are two examples), but she tried to keep her personal life separate from her work. She was a gay woman writer in the male-dominated 20th-century literary world, and even her implied portrayals of same-sex love led to rejections from publications like Poetry and the New Yorker, so it's fair to see her restrained, indirect approach as both an artistic decision and a professional prerequisite. She explained that she didn't want to be judged on the basis of her sexual orientation or her gender, but on the quality of her work as a poet.

      Historical Context

      After growing up in Nova Scotia, Canada and the northeastern United States, where she received her education, Bishop traveled extensively throughout southern Europe and northern Africa, recording many of her observations in verse.

      Intending to take a short trip, Bishop traveled to Brazil in 1951 and ended up living there for 15 years. "The Mountain" was written during this period, and it's possible that the mountains Bishop describes are those she observed in Brazil, or during her other travels. (In fact, much of her work from this period contains mountain imagery, such as the "self-pitying mountains" in "Arrival At Santos" and "the pressure of so many clouds on the mountaintops" in "Questions of Travel," both of which echo the details in this poem.)

      Bishop's extensive travels also fed her interest in international literature, and she published translations of poetry originally written in French, Spanish, and (most famously) Portuguese.

      The mid-20th century was a tumultuous time in Brazil and, indeed, the globe, as political instability and social tensions bubbled over around the world. However, Bishop’s poems, including "The Mountain," tend not to address conflicts and world events directly. Instead, they tend to confront universal human struggles, such as grief and the drive to be understood.

  • More “The Mountain” Resources