The Partial Explanation

As in many of Charles Simic’s poems, “The Partial Explanation” uses accessible language and free verse—lines without end rhyme or meter—to create a dreamlike atmosphere and contemplative mood. Four stanzas—two quatrains (stanzas of four lines), and two cinquains or pentains (stanzas of five lines)—comprise the 18 lines in the poem, which are written in a first-person point of view.

“The Partial Explanation” is surreal, in the sense of how surrealist André Breton identified surrealism in his manifesto of 1924: “I believe in the future resolution of these two states, dream and reality, which are seemingly so contradictory, into a kind of absolute reality, a surreality” (Academy of American Poets). Simic uses an ordinary setting and ordinary objects to draw the reader into a kind of somber dream.

In the first stanza, the speaker muses that it “[s]eems like a long time / Since the waiter took my order” (Lines 1-2). This is a familiar situation, one in which a person finds themselves waiting for food. The subtly disorienting element is the use of “[s]eems like” (Line 1). Neither the speaker nor the reader knows how long it’s actually been. The reader is made aware only of the speaker’s perception. The next two lines add detail to the setting of the poem: The eatery is a “[g]rimy little luncheonette” (Line 3)—a type of hole-in-the-wall diner common to most cities, a place for a quick, unpretentious meal. “Grimy” (Line 3) may indicate a lack of sanitation, a lack of attention, and/or the eatery’s position in the urban landscape. At the end of the first stanza, the reader learns “[t]he snow [is] falling outside” (Line 4), indicating that it’s cold out. The speaker has come in out of the cold, has placed an “order” (Line 2) with a person who works there, and is now waiting.

Stanza two repeats the phrase “Seems like” (Line 5), only now the perception is that the day “has grown darker” (Line 5). This is an example of the surreal, in that the day may grow “darker” (Line 5) because the hour is getting late, or it may feel dimmer as an expression of a dark mood. The general feeling is one of ominous progression: Darkness is descending, for whatever reason. The atmosphere was either physically or metaphorically lighter the last time the speaker “heard the kitchen door” (Line 6), the swing of which indicates that someone passed through it. It was lighter the last time the speaker detected evidence of another human’s presence. The speaker only partially detected the movement, as it was “[b]ehind [their] back” (Line 7) and they couldn’t see anyone. The speaker’s visual attention is directed outside the building, where no one has passed “on the street” (Line 9) for another unspecified length of time.

The reader’s focus in stanza three is directed back into the building, specifically to the place where the speaker sits and waits “[a]t this table I chose myself” (Line 12). The speaker says, “[a] glass of ice-water / keeps me company” (Lines 10-11). The inanimate object is elevated to companion status. That it is “[a] glass of ice-water” (Line 10) offers little hope that it will be up to the task of keeping anyone “company” (Line 11), as it is, among other things, cold. That the speaker personally selects “this table” (Line 10) suggests that there was no one there to greet them, or that they “chose” (Line 13) solitude on their own. The speaker, here, takes responsibility for their actions, which resulted in their being alone with no one for “company” (Line 11) but a cold, flavorless beverage.

With the fourth stanza, the speaker reveals a deeper level of desire. The speaker also identifies another companion at the “table” (Line 12), which is “a longing, / Incredible longing” (Lines 14-15). Desire, personified here, becomes an entity unto itself—a presence. However, while the speaker acknowledges this “[i]ncredible longing” (Line 15), they stop short of expressing a desire for full and direct human connection. Instead, they long “[t]o eavesdrop / On the conversation / Of cooks” (Lines 16-18). The speaker expresses a desire to witness the camaraderie of—or, at least, to listen to the communication between—the people in the kitchen, without participating in any active way.

The reader, as the title says, must accept the poem and the moment for what it is—incomplete as to the circumstances and motivations of the speaker. It is a portrait of loneliness—not only of an individual in a cheap diner in late afternoon in winter, but also, perhaps, of city dwellers everywhere, living ordinary days among other urbanites, waiting for the next meager meal, bereft of “company” (Line 11). And, perhaps, resigned to it, as the speaker of “The Partial Explanation” seems to be—at least in the moment the poem captures. The speaker accepts their loneliness: They have chosen it, in fact. At the same time, the speaker acknowledges a persistent “[i]ncredible longing” (Line 15), indicating their deep human need for connection.