A prime example of Simpleism, “Epitaph” reads somewhat like a riddle. This is not necessarily an attribute unique to this poem so much as it is of the poetic style Mister Miner honed while assembling his collection.
As I have observed over these past weeks, it seems pure Simpleism creates two very distinct types of poem: that which condenses truth into something so simple it is necessarily beautiful and that which condenses truth so far it must be reinflated based on the subtle clues provided.
To clarify this “riddle” class of Simpleist poem, I will provide my analysis of “Epitaph” stanza by stanza, expanding these subtle clues as they arise. As is my method, I did consult Mister Miner regarding this and many similar poems, but kindly assuring me he would be happy to help were I ensnared, he advised I would be far more gratified were I to spearhead my own decryption.
The first stanza states that although the speaker had once been fitted for a custom suit, he feels the generic one he wears fits at least twice as well. Presupposing the tailor who fitted him for the custom suits did a perfect job, it appears the “off the rack” suit still fits better regardless. When the speaker says “fit”, it seems he is not making a technical comment on textbook suit fitting, but rather on the way he sees himself “fitting” into something tailored. In other words, for him, wearing something tailor-made is alienating because he would prefer to find his “fitting” place in society without a niche being created for him artificially.
In the second stanza, the speaker describes that although his vision was not flawed, he owned many pairs of glasses. By clarifying that the lenses in the glasses are “unrefracting”, there is no doubt their existence is merely perfunctory. No evidence supports an aesthetic explanation for his glasses. The first stanza, however, brings us the theme of man and society and we are left this as the filter through which to analyze his wearing of “unneeded” glasses. Although he wishes to find his place in society, he requires a division, even if it is a thin, transparent, unrefracting piece of glass. This is his security blanket which provides him an invisible solace. The multiple pairs of glasses are explained by the poem’s undercurrent of consumerism. “Paned” may invoke images of shop windows; the speaker walks through life, sheltered from high-pressure salespeople, window-shopping society for his place.
Stanza three addresses the speaker’s shoes, which are worn through, while he has 22 presumably unworn pairs. 22 could be a reference to the phrase catch-221, thus commenting that man trying to reconcile himself with society is as false a dilemma as a tree trying to reconcile itself with the forest. Regardless, analyzing the number’s significance remains secondary to the central message. The speaker will not wear any of his new shoes because he is more comfortable in his own (this is intended both literally and figuratively). He is willing to go the extra mile to find his place, even if it means arriving at his destination with his shoes worn through. Although he is flexible on some aspects of his demeanor, the speaker will not abandon his own shoes, and therefore his own personality.
The fourth stanza sheds light on the speaker’s perception of God. He has lost faith, yet continues to pray. He can cite no reason or series of reasons for this loss. We are left with the presumption that he feels a godly absence, but cannot refrain from beseeching this void for hope. In a syntactic sense, the last two lines display a seeming disagreement between verb and subject; I believe Minter Miner’s intention is to show that not only is there a confusion here between the verb and the subject, but also one between God and the speaker as the subject (or perhaps object) of God. More important, however, is the question of why the stanza exists in the first place. The answer is that “Epitaph” is an epitaph. No longer living, the speaker must reconcile himself to that which is beyond life and society. If there is a God, he would like Him to know that faithless in life, he lived in hope.
The fifth and final stanza tells us two things about the life led by the speaker. He did not gamble with his decisions and he did not make unreasonable choices for the sake of their being unreasonable. We are left to presume not only that the speaker lived a life composed of certainty and seriousness, but also that he laments having done so. It is clear by his distinction that he would not have preferred a life of chance for the sake of chance, but rather absurdity for its own sake. The reference to “The Toad Princess” shows that he wishes not for self-sabotage, but instead for happiness in a life free from the strictures of seriousness.
Like the chiseled characters in Edgar Lee Master’s Spoon River Anthology, Guido da Montefeltro in Dante’s Inferno, and T. S. Eliot’s J. Alfred Prufrock, the speaker in “Epitaph” reflects on his life without fearing the scorn of the society he has departed. His is a voice lamenting the perils of a life lived too seriously and too preoccupied with how to live, rather than with living itself. It is not, however, a voice absent of hope and redemption.
Readers of “Epitaph”, much like myself, should find great difficulty in seeing this riddle unfolded without viewing their own earnest image gazing warily back from within.