Before "Portrait d'une Femme" even begins, its title sets the stage by referencing another well-known poem. "Portrait d'une Femme" translates from French as "Portrait of a Lady," which is also the title of a T. S. Eliot poem published in the year before Pound's "Portrait" first appeared in print:
- Eliot's "Portrait of a Lady" describes various encounters between a young man and an older, upper-class lady who seeks companionship as she ages, finding herself surrounded by empty relationships and meaningless cultural activities.
Both of these poems also allude to Henry James's 1881 novel "The Portrait of a Lady," which follows a young woman named Isabel Archer:
- Determined to maintain her independence and freedom as she travels, Archer denies marriage proposals that offer her wealth and status because she does not want to be held back. However, Archer is tricked into marrying a man who wants only her new inheritance (having been blinded to his true nature by his sophistication and taste), and she ultimately ends up in a restrictive and unhappy marriage.
Like both of these works, "Portrait d'une Femme" describes an unmarried upper-class lady who values her own status, independence, and cultural experiences above all else. These allusions, however, suggest that the lady will suffer a fate like Eliot and James's own "ladies," thus creating a subtly ominous atmosphere as the poem begins.
The poem itself opens with a metaphor comparing the lady—and particularly her mind—to the Sargasso Sea. The Sargasso is known for the seaweed (and other ocean debris), which can be found floating about this portion of the Atlantic in massive piles.
- Note how the sibilance of these opening lines (as in "Sargasso Sea" and "swept [...] this score years") evokes that ocean scenery, calling to mind the hiss of crashing waves or wind blowing off of the surface of debris heaps.
The speaker explains that, like ships sailing through the Sargasso, members of London's upper-class social scene visit with (or "sweep about") the lady, leaving her with all sorts of curious scraps (some of which might be physical objects, but most of which are less tangible—interesting bits of knowledge and "old gossip").
- The speaker's language when describing these discarded items (e.g., "strange spars", "dimmed wares") feels exciting and romantic. But her acquaintances clearly no longer want or need these items, as they are given "in fee," now totally under her ownership.
- Moreover, while her visitors are "bright," suggesting intensity and potential, the items they leave behind are now "dimmed," having lost luster and value.
Sympathy for the lady builds as the speaker directly addresses her, an example of apostrophe. The second-person point of view ("you," "your") creates the impression of familiarity between the speaker and the lady, heightening the emotional impact of the poem as the audience seems to witness an intimate conversation. Apostrophe also puts the reader in the lady's position as the speaker repeatedly addresses "you," encouraging the audience to empathize with her.
The speaker also uses parallelism to repeatedly put the lady in a passive position, suggesting that she has little control over her fate: "London has swept about you [...] And bright ships left you" (and in the next passage, "Great minds have sought you"). What's more, she has held this passive, powerless role for a great while—some 20 ("score") years.
Finally, strong meter and sound play throughout these opening lines draw the audience's interest and reinforce the epic seafaring imagery. The poem uses iambic pentameter, lines of five iambs (poetic feet with an unstressed-stressed syllable pattern). The meter's regular rises and falls recall the steady lapping of the ocean. Here's a look at line 1, for instance:
Your mind and you are our Sargasso Sea,
Occasional deviations (as in: "London has swept about you") suggest a chaotic and temperamental environment.