(no subject)
"The words of her husband in praise of her meant nothing. But I am a man whose life in many ways, even as an explorer, has been governed by words. By rumors and legends. Charted things. Shards written down. The tact of words. In the desert, to repeat something would be to fling more water into the earth. Here nuance took you a hundred miles."
In a film you cast the actors and depict the interactions of the English patient and Katharine in the seas of sand, but, even if this were to be voiced over, could the depth of it be captured?
Of reading: the meaning of it, the truth of it, is yours to recognize, interpret.
I am stopped in my track at this simple passage,
taken to a room at Clark Kerr filled with the trash sherds of pottery four-thousand years old,
made with that sand and straw of the Nile in that clay.
To measuring and Munselling a Hoess vase.
To women I have known.
To women I know.
And this, one passage of many.
In a film you cast the actors and depict the interactions of the English patient and Katharine in the seas of sand, but, even if this were to be voiced over, could the depth of it be captured?
Of reading: the meaning of it, the truth of it, is yours to recognize, interpret.
I am stopped in my track at this simple passage,
taken to a room at Clark Kerr filled with the trash sherds of pottery four-thousand years old,
made with that sand and straw of the Nile in that clay.
To measuring and Munselling a Hoess vase.
To women I have known.
To women I know.
And this, one passage of many.