Free Union By Andre Breton

I really liked the way Breton wrote when comparing his wife to different things. For some of the lines he seemed as if he was trying to be romantic and sappy. For instance in the line, “Whose mouth is a bright cockade with the fragrance of a star of the first magnitude”. Whereas in other parts the writing was vulgar and not a typical way to talk about your wife, when he writes, “Whose waist is the waist of an otter caught in the teeth of a tiger”. Just the fact that he wanted to write a piece about his wife to me is wonderful. To have words put to paper describing your every inch of skin, your every flaw, and every mark of beauty. In ways it’s more romantic than a candle lit dinner with wine and flowers. If your man takes the time to critically consider your body, write it down coherently, and have it actually say something decent, I’d say you’d got yourself a pretty good catch. The writing was engaging and I wanted to keep reading. It wasn’t just another homework assignment, I really enjoyed the poem. It made me think of every woman and that it could describe every woman. Perhaps Breton wasn’t even talking about any particular person like his wife. Perhaps he was talking about all of us, all of us “whose rump is sandstone and flax…with the sex of an iris”.