My Papas Waltz a poem composed by Theodore Roethke in 1953 has left

readers in contradictions. Some plainly understand it as it is: a waltz between a father and
a son. On the other side, some readers believe the poem is a big sight of child-abuse.
Through the tone, diction and images the speaker portrays, his experience in My Papas
Waltz is a perfectly positive memory of their imperfect waltz.
Opening the poem, the first impression the father gives the son is his breath full of
the smell of whiskey. The whiskey on your breath / Could make a small boy dizzy
(lines 1-2). Small kids are daily impressed by the unusual things they see, touch, taste or
smell. As negative readers, some take this image into account for the idea that the father
is drunk, not once but quite often, which convicts him to a negative behavior. However,
the speaker mentions it as the very first thing in the poem because the smell of whiskey is
strong, and something that he is not used to, something that can make him dizzy, which
indicates that his fathers consuming of alcohol does not happen all the time. Some
people accused the fathers drunkenness will be the root of his child-abuse. This point of
view gives no tolerance to alcohol. While in reality, the connection between drunkenness
and child-abuse is blurry, and people, especially men, widely consume alcohol simply as
a stress reducing or luxury beverage. Then, the excitement inside the speaker starts to
rise. But I hung on like death: (line 3). Despite the strong smell of the whiskey and the
dizziness, the son tries to get ready in action. The people who support the opposite idea
may take death as a negative word indicating the speakers fear and inactivity. But
actually, he hangs on, straightens up in an effort that makes him look like death
instead of being dizzy, because he does not want to miss the fun, because Such
waltzing was not easy (line 4).
The fun begins when the father and son bring their dance into the kitchen. We
romped until the pans / Slid from the kitchen shelf (lines 5-6). The word romped
opens in front of readers eyes the scene of the enjoyable synchronization of the father
and the son, so enjoyable that they shake up the kitchen, make the pans slide from the
shelf. Both of them are so into the waltz that they become carefree of everything going on
around them. On the side is the picture of the mother not knowing what to do. My
mothers countenance / Could not unfrown itself (lines 7-8). Some readers argue the
frown countenance of the mother is her helpless silence, inactivity of interference in the
abuse of the son. But beside her frown face, there is no other clues in the poem showing
the mothers sadness, anger or any effort to stop her husband and son. Therefore, it is
reasonable to realize that the existing frown face of the mother is only because of the
pans getting damaged, and she knows that she will be the person who cleans up after her
husband and son. At the same time, she does not want to interrupt the happiness between
the other two.
The intimate connection between the speaker and his father is also portrayed through
their physical contact with each other. The hand that held my wrist / Was battered on one
knuckle / At every step you missed / My right ear scraped a buckle (lines 9-12). The
speaker is only at the height of his fathers buckle, describing the small figure of the son
contrast to his father who is taller, and holding his little wrist guiding him through the
dance. The two contrast figures, but connected to each other creates an intimate, sweet
and touching relationship between father and son. Some prove the detail when the
speakers ear scrapes the buckle of the father is painful for the speaker, and shows the
carelessness of the father. But as the matter of fact that the father gets quite drunk from

the whiskey, their waltz is not perfect. The father misses his steps once in a while, and he
accidentally hurts his son. But it does not stop the speaker from continuing dancing with
his father, because the son does not mind.
The hard working and simple, somewhat austere figure of the father is sketched out
in the last stanza of the poem. You beat time on my head / With a palm caked hard by
dirt (lines 13-14). Again, people can still point out that the word beat is a strong word,
and the fact that the father is beating on his sons head is violent. But in fact, he is
beating time. In music, people use beats an essential element of music - to create and
keep track of the rhythm. Nobody thinks of beats in music as damaging or violent. So are
the fathers beats. To add the fun, the father beats time, not on any other object but his
sons head so that the little child can also feel it. This way, the father draws a connection
and excitement between him and the speaker. Moreover, the speaker does not mind at all
his fathers dirty hands putting on his head. The palm caked hard by dirt indicates a
long time of physical labor. After all of it, the father still saves his rest of the day to play
with his son. Shouldnt he be taking credit for being a good dad?! Their moment is sheer
happiness, and no minor things can interrupt that.
If until here, readers are still not convinced in the positive experience of the speaker,
the last two lines of the poem will prove it. Then waltzed me off to bed / Still clinging to
your shirt (lines 15-16). Toward the end of their waltz, the father does not only stop
dancing wherever they are standing, but instead, continues to dance with his son bringing
him to his bed. Only a caring and loving heart, plus a little bit of sense of humor can
make this happen. And most importantly, the speaker gives a feedback to his father. He
clings to his fathers shirt, he does not want to stop the waltz. Supposed he is getting
abused by his father, then as a natural reaction, he should be willing to let go, or to run
away from the father. The word clinging, as a key, opens every door, erases every
doubt in this relationship.
Roethke and the controversial ideas he has raised in My Papas Waltz deserve to
make this poem a worth-to-read-and-critic work of poetry. Despite all the discussions,
contradictions, it simply ends up drawing a beautiful, plain and simple picture of love
between father and son from the most pure and innocent viewpoint of a child.