Anne Bradstreet's Poetic Femininity

Why on earth would anyone want to read a biography about an early American proto-feminist bent on freeing herself from the shackles of 17th century misogyny? Heck if I know, but that character is the precise opposite of Anne Bradstreet. Unlike what I was (almost) led to believe in the public college classroom, D.B. Kellogg delightfully conveys Bradstreet’s biblical femininity. Bradstreet, who was born in England, was transplanted to the recently founded Massachusetts Bay Colony shortly after marrying Simon Bradstreet. During this difficult time of upheaval, along with countless struggles of adaptation that resulted, Bradstreet found immense comfort in her husband, in her children (she had 8 altogether), and in her God. Feminists will surely bemoan Bradstreet’s elegant poetry in high praise of her husband, and her enjoyment of organizing and caring for his household. But even more striking than the culture shock we get from her femininity, is the confidence that Bradstreet has in God as comforter, especially when everything around her is most uncomfortable: “My Sun’s returned with healing wings, / My Soul and Body doth rejoice: / My heart exalts, and praises sings / To him that heard my wailing Voice. / My winter’s past, my storms are gone, / And former clouds seem now all fled; / But, if they must eclipse again, / I’ll run where I was succored.” [Thanks to Booksneeze for this ARC].