9. Constance Hately

If we have read the three previous poems carefully and recognised their unity of purpose, there should be nothing unexpected in this ninth epitaph of Constance Hately - not even the twist of the final two lines. As any good mini-series should, the last three poems have been building to this dramatic climax. Indeed, we can say that this poem gets to the very heart of the whole anthology. Even this early in the anthology, it is good to finally have a confession of sin from a figure of some standing in the Spoon River community; one who was generally praised for her self-sacrifice by her neighbours.

It is a timely confession, for we might be in danger of misreading the previous poems without it. It lends support to the voices of Cassius Hueffer, Serepta Morgan and Amanda Barker, letting us know that they are not mere moaners, bewailing their lot from beyond the grave. What these epitaphs have in common is the nature of the community’s consistent misjudgement of what is to be valued. The determination to believe in Mr Barker’s love for his wife leads directly to her death, the desire to forget the trouble caused by Cassius Hueffer leads to an outright lie being engraved upon his stone, the collective blindness to qualities other than the mundane strangled Serepta’s hope of being something more than the town expected. Tragically, the very heart of Spoon River is jaundiced, preventing anything more than a skewed view of what makes a life worthwhile.

It should come as no surprise, then, to hear Constance Hately praised for charity that was much less than it seemed. 

Constance is Spoon River! There is some desire, some probably ingrained knowledge of what is right - she does, after all, take in the the orphans, Irene and Mary; she rears them and cares for them. She has some sensibility of her duties as a good human being but is unable to give love unconditionally, is incapable of providing care without a price. The jaundiced heart beats with an irregular rhythm, which might explain Masters’ use of the free verse form as the medium for these less than regular commentaries on life in Spoon River. In her selfish application of charity, Constance Hately encapsulates the essence of her community; poisoning what is good with her meanness of spirit - just as Spoon River stunts growth and lies about life and murders innocence.

Twice, Constance tells us of her “self-sacrifice”; first, she tells us it was the reason she was praised, second, as she admonishes her adorers. While she herself, as well as the people of Spoon River, might see her taking in of the twins as self-sacrifice, clearly we must see it for what it is, for it is most definitely not a giving of self  in order to help others. That she took in the twins is without dispute, that she gained from her action likewise. Her apparent charity is seen - and meant to be seen - by her neighbours; its true nature, evident in the “contempt” for which the orphans are “censure[d]”, wilfully ignored, for its acknowledgement would be to shatter the illusion of sanctity sought by both Constance and the town as a whole. 

There is probably nobody in the Anthology more aptly naked than Constance Hately. If lies were engraved upon Cassius Hueffer’s stone, Constance’s truth is engraved in her name - which, of course, will be upon her stone. As the Anthology itself shows, as much as we may wish to hide the truth of ourselves, even, or especially, from ourselves, it will be known, for we ourselves will reveal it, for, as Constance is ‘hate’, so each of us is our own truth. We cannot ever truly hide such truth; we can only refuse to see it. Just as Spoon River consistently refuses to see the truth of its populace.