"Excuse my dust?"

Bradstreet’s poem "The Prologue [to Her Book]" is very readable, due to its
traditional structure, and the choice of words reflects the humble persona of the
speaker. Its subject is domesticated, foreshadowing the realism of later women
writers, and in tune with the seemingly modest speaker, who tells us her writing is no
good. This meek voice turns mocking when the speaker seems to lose control in
stanzas five and six, only to recompose herself in the remaining two stanzas. Her
outrage shows she doesn’t believe her own worthlessness or lack of talent. Nor does
she agree with those claiming this, giving her words an ironic twist. 

The speaker’s sphere is domestic. She tells us that kings and captains "are too superior
things" (line 3), that her "obscure lines shall not dim their worth" (line 6). She’s not
worthy for such a subject, the poem coming to a close with words of parsley and
thyme. She says she can do no better than to write "according to [her] skill" (line 12).
In stanza two she further describes her worthlessness as a poet and her lack of a
proper muse, in contrast to great poets, like Bartas. She calls herself simple, possibly
referring to her simple, domestic and "unworthy" topic, or simple style.

In stanza three she likens herself to a schoolboy and to broken strings, things that can
be seen as simple and far removed from perfection. Her muse is also simple, a foolish
one, like a schoolboy perhaps and broken like the strings. She compares herself to
something that cannot be fixed because it already is the way nature meant it to be;
"[c]ause nature made it so irreparable" (line 18). But does she really believe that?
"Irreparable" implies an unchangeable condition but a schoolboy grows up, matures
until he’s not foolish anymore and strings can surely be fixed. She emphasizes
simplicity so much it acquires a touch of farce. She points this out again and again and
keeps going in stanza four. Her point is that even if her critics don’t like her, they
can’t really blame her; she was after all made in this limited way. She is God’s
creation and no pious Christian should really doubt the work of God!

So far she has seduced the reader into thinking she’s a limited poet. In stanzas five
and six, however, we hear a different voice spring forth. Is she simply losing control of
her feelings or is this her real voice? In line 25 she strikes back saying she’s
"obnoxious" to her critics "[w]ho [said her] hand a needle better fits" (line 26). She is
immune to their words, not listening, and showing that she is not limited. Her
challenging voice doesn’t come as a complete surprise given how well the poem is
written. The voice that comes forth speaks like it cannot win. "If what I do prove well,
it won’t advance, /They’ll say it’s stolen or else it was by chance" (line 29-30). If the
critics do give her writing any credit they will really be giving it to someone else,
thinking it’s not hers. They will be thinking she must be who she pretended to be in
stanzas 1-4, that is, a meek little woman fit merely for huswifery, her muse a broken
one. 

In stanza six she brings the muses up again. She’s wondering, if women can’t write,
why are muses female? "[T]he antique Greeks were far more mild, /Else of our sex,
why feigned they those nine" (line 31-32). Why indeed? It doesn’t make any sense
that a woman can inspire, but not write. The Greeks, famous for their sophistication
both in writing and philosophy, went to women for inspiration. Ignoring women’s
writing is ignoring the wisdom of the Greeks, who, according to this seem to have
been "far more mild" in their view of women. It was almost impossible for anyone to
dispute the genius of the Greeks, post-renaissance, and by referring to them she
connects her words to a higher authority. Unless "[t]he Greeks did nought, but play
the fools and lie" (line 37), who then, is the foolish one?

If stanzas 5-6 are seen as the speaker losing control, she clearly regains her composure
in stanza seven, as if saying ‘be that as it may….’ She goes back to her meek voice
from stanzas 1-4, saying "men can do best, and women know it well" (line 40). But
the reader can no longer believe her. Because of the commotion in the previous
stanzas, we know she doesn’t think she’s inferior. She has likened herself to things
that can improve (strings and a schoolboy) while saying they’re stagnant, implying her
own possible growth. And in stanza seven she says "[i]t is but vain unjustly to wage
war" (line 39), implying that men are the ones who have felt threatened by women
and waged war on them, not vice versa. She will not go to war, why go to war if
you’re not threatened? She’s also asking men to give women a piece, by granting them
"some small acknowledgement" (line 42). If she really believes that women’s poetry is
so insignificant then why is she asking? She’s sticking to her guns but in a quieter way,
giving the poem an ironic tone that dismisses her humble voice in stanzas 1-4. 

She desides not to ‘wage war in vain’ and goes back to flattering her possible mail
audience in stanza 8. She says, that as her poetry is simple it will only make men’s
poetry shine more in comparison, so they needn’t feel threatened. This gives the poem
a new twist, one that flatters men. It is an ironic one, given she that doesn’t really
believe this herself. If she did, then what would be the point of stanzas 5-6? It’s
possible that she wants to appease them in hopes they will not judge her harshly. She
clearly means to be sarcastic. But when compared to her poem "The Author to her
book", and the actions taken by her brother in law, John Woodbridge, this apologetic
tone can’t be completely dismissed. Woodbridge emphasized how good a mother and
housewife Bradstreet was, her writing never interfering with her responsibilities as a
homemaker nor taking time from her children. "The Author’s…" speaker fears having
her work published and criticized. In light of this, the tone of "The Prologue" is one
calming the voices that want her to go back to sewing. 

"The Prologue [to Her Book]" speaks of the poet’s lack of talent as if to say that no
one needs to feel threatened by her. She talks about men as being above her, possibly
"deign[ing] these lowly lines, / [giving] thyme or parsley wreath" (line 45-46). But
stanzas 5-6 cannot and should not be ignored. This is false modesty; in case of harsh
criticism she can point to her poem’s humble persona to protect herself. Her uproar
has come through strongly, showing what she thinks; meekness is transformed into
mockery.

Her point is to show that she is not just some meek little woman pardoning her
presence, apologizing for her low existence, excusing her dust. She may say that much
but her talent speaks against it so the humble voice turns into one of her greatest
persuasive weapons. The speaker elegantly and skillfully writes about her lack of
writing skills.