Mrs Midas
It was late September. I'd just poured a glass of wine, begun
to unwind, while the vegetables cooked. The kitchen
filled with the smell of itself, relaxed, its steamy breath
gently blanching the windows. So I opened one,
then with my fingers wiped the other's glass like a brow.
He was standing under the pear tree snapping a twig.
Now the garden was long and the visibility poor, the way
the dark of the ground seems to drink the light of the sky,
but that twig in his hand was gold. And then he plucked
a pear from a branch - we grew Fondante d'Automne -
and it sat in his palm like a light bulb. On.
I thought to myself, Is he putting fairy lights in the tree?
He came into the house. The doorknobs gleamed.
He drew the blinds. You know the mind; I thought of
the Field of the Cloth of Gold and of Miss Macready.
He sat in that chair like a king on a burnished throne.
The look on his face was strange, wild, vain. I said,
What in the name of God is going on? He started to laugh.
I served up the meal. For starters, corn on the cob.
Within seconds he was spitting out the teeth of the rich.
He toyed with his spoon, then mine, then with the knives, the forks.
He asked where was the wine. I poured with shaking hand,
a fragrant, bone-dry white from Italy, then watched
as he picked up the glass, goblet, golden chalice, drank.
It was then that I started to scream. He sank to his knees.
After we had both calmed down, I finished the wine
on my own, hearing him out. I made him sit
on the other side of the room and keep his hands to himself.
I locked the cat in the cellar. I moved the phone.
The toilet I didn't mind. I couldn't believe my ears:
how he'd had a wish. Look, we all have wishes; granted.
But who has wishes granted? Him. Do you know about gold?
It feeds no one; aurum, soft, untarnishable; slakes
no thirst. He tried to light a cigarette; I gazed, entranced,
as the blue flame played on its luteous stem. At least,
I said, you'll be able to give up smoking for good.
Written from the viewpoint of the
wife of King Midas. He was
granted a wish by Dionysus
whereby everything he touched
turned to gold.
Peak of Autumn
- golden month.
Creates relaxed
domestic scene to start.
Personification of kitchen to create
a sense of being alive and homely.
Contrast to the life-sapping events
taking place in the garden.
Simile - contrast to
lifelessness outside. The
beginning of the separation
between them.
Form - dramatic monologue - 11 stanzas of irregular
line length to reflect their unpredictable lives.
First time we see Mr Midas
he is being destructive.
Unsure of what she’s
seeing and puts it down to
visibility - she doesn’t
understand the situation.
Personification - shows the dark
nature of the garden and suggests
something is going wrong.
Casual action by Mr Midas
- doesn’t think anything will
happen.
Parenthesis adds extra information
about their normal life together and
the idea that they grew/created
something - contrast to later.
Simile - shape and
brightness of the pear. Full
stops add comedic effect -
reflects her shock and
disbelief.
Whimsical and humorous imagery
contrasts with seriousness of what’s
just happened.
Two short sentences show how
quickly he changed things.
A meeting in Calais between Kings of
England and France - both built lavish
palaces embellished with golden cloth.
Simile - has the power of a
king but can’t control it.
“Burnished” - polished.
He realises the power he’s been
given and doesn’t know how to
cope.
Question shows Mrs Midas
can’t understand and they
find it humorous - contrast
to later.
Tries to inject a sense of
normality by using a
matter of fact tone.
Metaphor - the corn has turned
to gold - adds to comical tone.
List shows how many
things he was turning -
even simple act of dining
became difficult.
Word choice - connotations of fear,
uncertainty - starting to become
anxious - not so funny anymore.
Alliteration/list - to show quick
progression of the object
transforming - harsh sound of “g”
highlights seriousness of “gift”.
Tone has become negative.
Emphasises the clear
change in relationship and
start of separation - loss of
touch/intimacy.
Short sentences show the
extent to which she had to
change things - joke about
toilet to soften tone.
Pause to
reflect her
shock.
Pun - everyone makes
wishes but her “fool” of a
husband had to be the one
who had his wish granted.
Short sentence to show how bitter
she is about it.
She mocks him as she is annoyed by
his foolish choices - they gain nothing
from this “gift”.
Enjambment allows
pause to reflect on
what’s happening.
Word choice - connotations of gold.
Injects some humour into the
shocking situation.
