Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained

Maxine Kumin’s "In the Root Cellar" is a striking and imaginative poem that transforms the mundane world of stored vegetables into a rich metaphorical landscape. The poem vibrates with a sense of reverence, grotesque humor, and existential wonder, revealing the hidden life and symbolic resonance of the everyday objects we often overlook. Through vivid imagery, inventive personification, and a darkly playful tone, Kumin explores themes of decay, renewal, and the cyclical nature of life.

The title, "In the Root Cellar," situates the poem in a space associated with preservation and dormancy—a liminal zone where life teeters on the edge of stasis and transformation. Root cellars, traditionally used to store vegetables during the colder months, become a metaphorical underworld where the forces of life, death, and rebirth silently play out. This setting provides fertile ground for Kumin’s exploration of existential and spiritual questions.

The poem begins with the parsnips, which are described as "those rabbis / have braided their beards together / to examine the text." This striking image imbues the vegetables with an air of sagacity and spiritual inquiry, as if they are ancient scholars poring over sacred mysteries. The "text" they examine is "February," a word that encapsulates the harsh, barren stillness of winter. This personification of the parsnips elevates them from mere objects to contemplative beings, underscoring Kumin’s ability to find profundity in the ordinary.

The green tomato, "wrapped in the Sunday book section," represents ignorance and unawareness, "to know nothing." The juxtaposition of the tomato’s greenness—symbolic of immaturity—and the intellectual veneer of the newspaper adds an element of irony. Meanwhile, the worm "eats his way outward," embodying the relentless, unseen forces of decay that operate even in this quiet space. These opening images set the tone for the poem’s interplay between humor and gravity, as Kumin finds both absurdity and profundity in the natural processes unfolding in the root cellar.

The cabbages are described as "clean keepers" yet paradoxically likened to "a row of impacted stillbirths." This unsettling metaphor underscores the duality of the root cellar as both a place of preservation and a site of death. The act of delivering the cabbages "one by one" echoes childbirth, reinforcing the cyclical relationship between life and death. Similarly, the apples, described as "a basket of pulltoys and smiles," appear benign and playful but are revealed to "infect one another / like children exchanging the measles." This progression from innocence to contagion reflects the inescapable vulnerability inherent in communal life.

Kumin’s attention to the potato is particularly striking, as she writes, "O potato, a wink of / daylight and you?re up with / ten tentative erections." The anthropomorphic description of the potato’s sprouting eyes is simultaneously humorous and poignant, capturing the vitality and fragility of life. The phrase "how they deplete you!" serves as a lament, acknowledging the toll that growth and renewal exact on living beings. This line, like many others in the poem, balances humor with an underlying awareness of life’s transience.

The squash, described as "dusty blue wart hogs," are similarly anthropomorphized, with their "squat for a thump and a tuning." Kumin imagines them as musical instruments, "patient blue mandolins," if only they could be "ironed out." This whimsical transformation underscores the latent potential in all things, even objects as seemingly prosaic as vegetables. The musical metaphor adds a layer of harmony and beauty to the squash, suggesting that even in their inert state, they contain a hidden song.

The beets, with their "birthmarks," await their fate, destined to be "wheeled into the amphitheater." The surgical imagery of the "scrub-up" and "scalpel" underscores their inevitable transformation, as even before their preparation, "they bleed a little." The beets’ readiness to bleed becomes a poignant metaphor for vulnerability and the inevitability of sacrifice in the cycle of life.

The poem concludes with the onion, whose voice asserts, "I am perfect… / I am God?s first circle / the tulip that slept in His navel. / Bite me and be born." This declaration is both audacious and mystical, as the onion claims divine significance and transformative power. The imagery of the onion as "God’s first circle" evokes the eternal and the primordial, tying it to the cycles of creation and renewal. The invitation to "bite me and be born" transforms the onion into a symbol of initiation and renewal, a gateway to life’s deeper truths.

"In the Root Cellar" showcases Kumin’s ability to blend humor, reverence, and existential inquiry. Her personification of vegetables brings them to life in ways that challenge the reader to see the extraordinary in the ordinary. The root cellar, a seemingly mundane space, becomes a microcosm of life’s larger processes—growth, decay, renewal, and the interplay of beauty and grotesqueness. Through her vivid imagery and inventive metaphors, Kumin transforms the root cellar into a site of profound meditation, reminding us that even in the most unassuming corners of the world, the mysteries of existence unfold.

Copyright (c) 2025 PoetryExplorer

Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!

Other Poems of Interest...