Arrival at Santos

“Arrival at Santos” is an interior monologue in which the speaker embodies the experience of arriving in a new, foreign place. The poem captures the mental and physical discomfort of traveling, including the long “suspension” (Line 12) of spending time at sea, and the bureaucratic, unexpected annoyances of going through customs and ports, as well as the psychic challenges of encountering a place one does not know. Above all it is about thwarted expectations, and the disappointment that comes when one pins too high hopes on an external experience. The poem draws attention to this tension by vacillating between the speaker’s outer experience and inner monologue, mimicking the way outer experience influences inner thought and the way a person’s mood or personality impacts the way they see a landscape.

As the poem begins, the speaker seems briefly neutral about seeing the coast of Brazil. “Here is a coast; here is a harbor.” (Line 1) The speaker tells the reader where they are without comment. The second line offers some description of the past eighteen days at sea, where the speaker says they had nothing but a “a meager / diet of horizon” (Lines 2-3), rather than a feast for the eyes. Then the speaker offers their interpretations of the new scene, calling the mountains “self-pitying” (Line 3) and the greenery “frivolous” (Line 4)

In the second stanza, the speaker gently admonishes themselves, revealing to the reader that they traveled 18 days to Brazil in search of an experience that might solve several personal problems, saying:

Oh, tourist,

is this how this country is going to answer you

and your immodest demands for a different world,

and a better life, and complete comprehension

of both at last, and immediately

after eighteen days of suspension (Lines 7-12)?

The poet's exaggeration in describing the speaker's expectations insinuates they already knew these were unrealistic expectations. Calling themselves “tourist” (Line 7) seems almost patronizing, implying a certain naivete. Calling the eighteen days at sea a “suspension” (Line 12) suggests that the speaker was in stasis, a time for expectations to build.

The difference between the grandiosity of their expectations and the uncomfortable reality of entering port causes the speaker's self-awareness, along with a disappointing revelation. The exclamation “Oh tourist, / is this how this country is going to answer you” (Lines 7-8) suggests that it is the country’s fault that it is not more grandiose, but it also implies that the speaker may have tricked themselves into believing this new country had all the answers their homeland did not hold.

The speaker projects their hopes for their own self approval and self-revelation on the country. They are looking for this external location to satisfy longings that they cannot fully articulate. Through their continued judgment of what is lacking in the port, the speaker reveals the limits of their unrealistic and uninformed expectations. Instead, they are met with the mundanity and annoyance of travel in the lines, "Finish your breakfast. The tender is coming, / a strange and ancient craft, flying a strange and brilliant rag. / So that's the flag. I never saw it before. / I somehow never thought of there being a flag" (Lines 13-16). The fact that the speaker never considered whether the country had a flag or not reveals how the speaker may have thought of Brazil as a blank slate onto which one can project fantasies, rather than a real country where regular people live and work outside of the tourist's experience.

Next, she and “Miss Breen” must get off the ship into a “strange and ancient craft” (Line 14). They do this “gingerly” and “backward” (Line 19), insinuating they are uncomfortable in this situation and need to be careful. The description that they are “descending into the midst of twenty-six freighters / waiting to be loaded with green coffee beans” (Lines 21-22) suggests the two travelers are fully enveloped by the new country. At this time, Miss Breen’s skirt gets caught on a boat hook, lifting her skirt, which also exposes her vulnerability and the danger of being caught off guard in a new place.

Like the speaker, Miss Breen is an American, and “Her home, when she is at home, is in Glens Fall // s” (Lines 28-29). In this instance. the term “at home” means both literally being in one’s place of residence and feeling comfortable. The wording suggests that right now Miss Breen is not at home, both literally and figuratively. This is part of why they hope the “customs officials will speak English,” (Line 30) and will leave them their “bourbon and cigarettes” (Line 31). These are comforts of home that the speaker hopes will ease them into the new experience away from all that is familiar.

This admission is ironic. The speaker claims to want this new country to provide answers, yet now that they are there, they want to cling to the familiar. However, it should be noted that Miss Breen is anything but a fragile seventy-year-old, rather, she is a "retired police lieutenant, six feet tall" (Line 26) who still has bright, clear eyes and a kindly attitude towards her fellow travelers. Women police officers would have been rare enough in 1952, much less one that is retired and now traveling the world. While the two passengers are certainly off-kilter in this new country, they appear more than capable of navigating the unexpected experiences of their arrival at Santos.

Miss Breen may also be a reflection of the speaker as well, who can be interpreted as the poet herself given the poem's proximity to Bishop's real-life experience. A reader of Bishop’s biography might speculate that “Miss Breen,” too, is lesbian. She is a woman of advanced years who worked a job typically held by men, she seems to be unmarried (Miss, as opposed to Mrs.), and she is also traveling alone. Bishop’s speaker includes these details, noting with subtle affection that they have noticed Miss Breen’s bright blue eyes and her kindness, suggesting that they have found a traveling companion in this lonely and isolating journey.

Despite the brief excitement of the hooked skirt, by the end, the speaker suggests the inner and external turmoil have settled, and the speaker has come to terms with the location itself, saying, "Ports are necessities, like postage stamps, or soap, // but they seldom seem to care what impression they make, / or, like this, only attempt, since it does not matter, / the unassertive colors of soap, or postage stamps—" (Lines 32-35). Dismissing the port this way allows the speaker to dismiss some of the disappointment caused by the banal, discomforting experience of travel or their mislaid expectations.

When Bishop ends the poem with “we are driving into the interior” (Line 40) the shift in perspective suggests a renewed hope that the next leg of the journey might be better. The speaker may be heading away from a figurative exterior and will start looking at their figurative interior. Perhaps because they have been disappointed by the struggle of entering a new country, they will instead turn inward for reflection and answers.