Natasha Trethewey (b. 1966)

On Captivity 2007

A photo of Natasha Trethewey.

Being all Stripped as Naked as We were Born, and endeavoring to hide our Nakedness, these Cannaballs took [our] Books, and tearing out the Leaves would give each of us a Leaf to cover us…

— Jonathan Dickinson, 1699

At the hands now

of their captors, those

they’ve named savages,

do they say the word itself

savagely — hissing

that first letter,

the serpent’s image,

releasing

thought into speech?

For them now,

everything is flesh

as if their thoughts, made

suddenly corporeal,

reveal even more

their nakedness —

the shame of it:

their bodies rendered

plain as the natives’ —

homely and pale,

their ordinary sex,

the secret illicit hairs

that do not (cannot)

cover enough.

This is how they are brought,

naked as newborns,

to knowledge. Adam and Eve

in the New World,

they have only the Bible

to cover them. Think of it:

a woman holding before her

the torn leaves of Genesis,

and a man covering himself

with the Good Book’s

frontispiece — his own name

inscribed on the page.

Considerations for Critical Thinking and Writing
  1. FIRST RESPONSE. Trethewey has written about the sources of her epigraph: “Because the conquerors made use of the written word to claim land [in North America] inhabited by native people, I found the detail of settlers forced to cover themselves with torn pages from books a compelling irony” (The Best American Poetry 2008, p. 182). How does this comment contribute to the central irony in the poem?
  2. Discuss Trethewey’s use of alliteration in lines 1–9.
  3. In what sense are the captors “brought, / naked as newborns, / to knowledge” (lines 24–26)?