This Is Just to Say

This Is Just To Say

by William Carlos Williams

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold

"This Is Just To Say" was the first poem I remember reading by William Carlos Williams, and it stuck in my mind as an amusingly unapologetic apology. Brief research into the poem's critical analysis, however, goes far beyond the relatively simple literal meaning, into a realm of forbidden fruit, sexual desires, and Oedipal interpretations. While I could, at a stretch, fit those terms to the poem - "I learned things that you probably were saving for later; forgive me, they were very interesting things" perhaps, or "I stole fire from the gods which they were probably saving for themselves; forgive me, humanity is so warm now" maybe, or even "I have had sex with you when you were probably waiting for someone special; forgive me, I really enjoyed it" - my favorite reading takes its lesson from the title. This is just to say. This is not rife with symbolism. This is a note left on a kitchen counter, or stuck on the fridge, or on the lid of the ice box in which the plums used to sit. This is to you, my wife, my family. This is an apology, but you should know I'm not all that sorry, because what I stole was tasty and not so important that they can't be replaced. 

If the fruit were something more closely tied to the "forbidden fruit" myths, I might have been more inclined to lend credence to that interpretation. The plum itself has little symbolism associated with it, though the plum blossom seems more popular. 

If the poem were more specific in its allusions or target, I might accept the connections to Oedipus. As it is, I see no indication that the person to whom the poem is addressed is the speaker's mother, nor anything else that would connect the myth and the poem.

If the language sounded more consistently sensual, I might agree that sex is involved. The only two words with any hint of double entendre, however, are "delicious" and "sweet," which, in a more stable context, can certainly take a different tone than that regarding food. Alongside "icebox," "breakfast," and "cold," they remain domestic and homely. 

If William Carlos Williams were more inclined toward extended metaphors rather than the earnest representation of everyday life, from the death of a loved one to an empty icebox, I would be more inclined to scrape up the layered, subtle shifts of tone and simple, vivid imagery to dig for another meaning entirely rather than a new facet of meaning.

It is more than likely that there are essays or articles analyzing this twelve-line poem, showing how far beyond the literal it can go. All interpretations are, to someone, in some way correct. 

For this one, I just so happen to prefer very little interpretation at all.