Beneath the Eye
Eduardo Corral creates his poetry from a place in between. His veins divided Mexican and American, his tongue forked Spanish and English, his writing seems to forge a path of discovery towards a place in which he belongs, whole and united. This is depicted in “Monologue of a Vulture’s Shadow” as Corral laments for a master — for a guide — who gave him reason to exist in this in between state he prefers. In this poem, Corral contrasts ethereal and secular language, imagines symbolism invoking the realm of the dead, and constructs a reflective plotline in order to analyze the identity for which he longs and the one that holds him to the ground.
The speaker introduces himself as a voice of desire for something lost — his master, who is described as knowing “neither fear nor patience” (Corral 2). This contrast between the speaker, someone who wants to give himself back to the master, and the master, portrayed as unfeeling of two basic human emotions, invokes a sense of unbalance in the relationship, emphasizing the master and servant dynamic. The dehumanization of the master is furthered when he “spiraled above a woman” (3-4) which, in line with the title of the poem, creates the image of the vulture. In contrast, the woman is placed in a desert, a harsh land lacking life, whereas the master (and presumably the speaker) circled in the sky. In a Beckett-like fashion, the woman is “trudging” (5) while the master “spiraled” (Corral 3), insinuating that life on earth constitutes struggle in contrast to a cyclical, more eternal existence in a higher realm. Through the contrast in these verbs, Corral creates two planes of existence, sets the stage of the poem, and establishes roles of the characters.
The first moment of action in the story lies with the woman in the desert. Upon seeing the master and his shadow up above, the woman looks skyward and “cursed us: / Black Torches of Plague” ( 6-8). In calling the vulture a plague, the woman further links two things that are symbolic of the greater power that is death. The woman, though, does not seem to fear the master nor his servant; again, she takes action upon herself. After her crude name calling, she dares to reach for the servant and “pinned [him] to her shoulders” (9). However, she does not have to reach up for the servant as she may the master; instead, she reached “out” (8) as if the servant were on the same plane as she. This, the darkness later described in reference to the speaker, and the implication of the title leads the reader to conclude that the servant, the speaker, is the vulture’s shadow, speaking his monologue. As a shade, the speaker is unable to truly be with the master among the clouds, and he can only exist so long as the vulture is close enough to the ground to reflect an image of himself. These direct actions taken by the woman serve to establish the pull of the more easily accessible realm of reality over the realm of the vulture, who does not make effort to pull the shadow all the way into the sky.
The weight of earth is furthered when the woman takes the shadow for her own. Still, she does not just capture him; she wears him across his shoulders as if to allude to the albatross of Coleridge’s “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” and acknowledge the burden she carries in separating master and servant; it is this sort of unholy crime. Upon his capture, the shadow servant “went slack” (10) as if being confined to the solidified earth and the living caused him to lose his semblance of life. In this way, the woman has decided which of the two realms the speaker is to inhabit — not the sky, the spiritual, but the earthly — and he is unable to properly function. It was his master that allowed him to balance in between the two, in the state he seemingly prefers. As a shadow, he traveled with the master vulture and experienced a semblance of flight, even if he could not get as high as the bird; with the woman, on the earth, he is locked up in her armoire, “perfumed” (14), when not in use. In this way, she retains ultimate control over the shadow, and as seen in her other forceful actions, she does so willfully. Unlike the master who, apparent in his lack of direct characterization and failure to make an effort to rescue the shadow, presents an air of indifference to the world, the woman repeatedly makes an effort to reach or control the shadow and that in touch with the ethereal. She jeers, she lashes out, and she takes prize of her prey by hiding him from the light. Again, this furthers the weighty gravity of the secular.
However, just because the secular pulls does not mean it is a better place. When the woman brings the shadow out of hiding, she wears him over her dress “with a cameo of a bird clutching prey” (16-17). In doing so, she uses the shadow as a costume, an attempt to liken herself to the vulture that is the speaker’s true master. However, rather that giving the speaker a connection to the sky, the woman uses him like a cape — like a shield from storm or sun. With the master, the shadow was a result of lack of sunlight; as a covering, he takes the brunt of the heat. To the shadow, this is reminiscent of times in which his master dove down closer to the earth “& I darkened the arroyos / & the jade geometry of fallen saguaros” (19-20). As arroyos are creeks devoid of water save for in time of storm, and the saguaros are toppled in unusual patterns, these two images together create the idea of an entity that has the power to overcome nature. The master, a sort of otherworldly creature at this point in the poem, may possess this ability; however, the speaker denotes the woman who is only mimicking the control over the flowing of a creek and the strength of towering saguaros just as she is only trying to portray that she can control the shadow. If she could control the servant as well as the master, it would simply follow her across the desert rather than have to be locked up or pinned down to remain at her side. This fact leads the reader to infer that secular humanity as represented by the woman does not have the control over the world we may like to imagine.
The shadow, meanwhile, can only reminisce on life with the master. He brings himself back to times when the vulture ventured so far from the desert that he “ceased to blacken the earth” (23). At this point, the master reached such heights that he became distant from earth to the point at which he no longer projected the image of the shadow; he reached a different realm that fails to connect with reality, and his image (and the speaker) dissipates in the light. When this occurs, it is as if the shadow has blanks in his memory. He must question “what became of [him]” (24) when his image was not imprinted upon the desert. This may lead the reader to conclude that without a connection to a higher being such as a spiritual god or realm, one does not live on. However, it is not as if the absence of the vulture master causes the shadow to cease to exist; it must be the absence of any master. When the woman steals the shadow away and hides him from the master, he still describes a conscious existence. The master is out of sight, and yet the shadow speaks his monologue about his world under the hold of the woman. She may not be his desired master, but she is a master in the way she controls him and mimics the duties of the vulture master; this is not enough for the shadow’s happiness, but it’s enough for his existence. In this way, the master and servant relationship is depicted as a necessity. While the speaker takes up the poem with praise for the old master who he believes will set him free, he fails to realize that no matter which realm guides him, he will never truly be liberated.
Come the end of the poem — and the poetry collection — the speaker still does not come to this realization; the relationship between master and servant remains emphasized. As “the scent of decay always lured [his] master / earthward” (25-26), the shadow is reborn. It is because of a master once again that the shadow claims his existence. The fact that he is allotted existence due to the ethereal master’s desire for the aforementioned decay touches once more on the idea that the earth, the secular, possesses deathly attributes. However, this is the first note in the poem that the ethereal has any interest in a relationship with the secular; earlier in the piece, the woman cursed the vulture and his shadow, but no reaction was gleaned from the vulture master himself. Once his shadow is stolen by the earth, he makes no apparent effort to retain it. His connection to earthly decay depicts a draw between the master and the earth that he soars above, sealing the relationship between the two realms as somewhat partial towards one another — even if only for the sake of consumption and death.
All the same, it is made clear that the shadow still relies on the master more than the master could ever care for him; the shadow depends on the master for even the most basic needs for he claims that “as my master ate, I ate” (27). Consumption, a primal and universal act, unifies master and servant. Granted, the servant must rely on the master for permission to such an essential act, but they are brought together by the fact that they both deem the act necessary. This line, fitting at the end of the poem at the end of the poetry collection, serves to frame the book; the first poem, “Our Completion: Oil on Wood: Tino Rodriguez: 1999” begins the book with the line “Before nourishment there must be obedience” (1). By stating early on that nourishment, required of all living things, only follows when one obeys a higher power, this remains a thread through the collection and to the last line; it establishes that because the servant was allowed to eat, he was under commands he obeyed. This conveys a semblance of power in the sort of relationship that requires leader and follower, a codependent thriving of the two, locked together like the secular and the ethereal plane. Being linked to two sorts of existences, being a master at one hand and perhaps a servant at another, gives logic to an illogical, divided existence. The shadow, lulling in between the earth and the sky, finds reason beneath the eye of a master.
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