Nov 21, 2005 01:40
I must say I really enjoyed lecture this week for the simple fact we were introduced to FW Harvey's "Ducks." A huge part of this was because I actually understood it from a first reading, but also because of the delightfulness of it. I love the way Harvey incorporates his feelings and ideas in such a simple, clear and accessible way. When he writes:
All God's jokes are good - even the practical ones!
And as for the duck, I think God must have smiled a bit
Seeing those bright eyes blink on the day He fashioned it.
And he's probably laughing still at the sound that came out of its bill!
it is apparent that he finds ducks so comical, and the fact that he does, makes me smile as I read it. I never imagined ducks as fierce little creatures who "look at you through black small topaz-tinted eyes and wish you ill." I always imagined them like these cute little harmless birds who chase you for bread. haha Well enough about my dorkiness and more about poetry. I began searching through books and internet sites for little Ducks-like poems that dealt with every day ordinary things that did not end up exploding into something bigger and meaningful, and at first I had settled on Marianne Moore's "The Fish." The poem discusses the many creatures of the sea and the darkness that surrounds them. It goes something like this:
The Fish
Marianne Moore
wade
through black jade.
Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keeps
adjusting the ash-heaps;
opening and shutting itself like
an
injured fan.
The barnacles which encrust the side
of the wave, cannot hide
there for the submerged shafts of the
sun,
split like spun
glass, move themselves with spotlight swiftness
into the crevices-
in and out, illuminating
the
turquoise sea
of bodies. The water drives a wedge
of iron throught the iron edge
of the cliff; whereupon the stars,
pink
rice-grains, ink-
bespattered jelly fish, crabs like green
lilies, and submarine
toadstools, slide each on the other.
All
external
marks of abuse are present on this
defiant edifice-
all the physical features of
ac-
cident-lack
of cornice, dynamite grooves, burns, and
hatchet strokes, these things stand
out on it; the chasm-side is
dead.
Repeated
evidence has proved that it can live
on what can not revive
its youth. The sea grows old in it.
I thought the poem was very appropriate. It pretty much sticks to describing the erosion of the sea and all the creatures slowly dying in it. Aside from its beautiful use of description and imagery, it is interesting how Moore uses syllabic verse. It gives the poem a sense of asymmetry and it gives the impression of how things would look underwater. I also noticed that the syllabic verse in this poem sets a pattern in which each line in each stanza has the same amount of syllables as its corresponding stanza. Anyway, after further reading, I discovered that the poem was actually a bigger message about death. I think it's trying to show that death is an unpreventable thing, that no matter how beautiful life can be, it is all marked for death in the end. This can be seen in the last line:
Repeated
evidence has proved that it can live
on what can not revive
its youth.
Since this poem had a greater message, I searched for something more better-suited for our topic of conversation and I came up with a cute little poem by Charles Baudelaire called The Cat (II). In it, Baudelaire discusses the language of cats - how deep and beautiful and pleasurable they can be. He says that cats have "not the need of words to speak the lengthiest phraseologies." Throughout the poem, it is evident the writer is fantastically delighted and taken away by cats.
"There is no bow that tears so profound
On my heart's perfect strings,
No sovereign instrument vibrant with sound
Could stronger in me sing."
I think writing about general things takes a lot of observation. I think the best work comes from people who not only have a nice way with words, but also have a certain amount of admiration or interest, or even dislike and disinterest in their subject. They pay attention to detail (which can be seen in Jonson's "Inviting A Friend to Supper" and his lists of food, entertainment, etc) and I think the best have a way to draw you in with that detail. For example, "Ducks" made me laugh and notice things I never considered, "The Fish" gave me an image of death under water, and "The Cat (II)" made me examine the beauty of a cat's life.
Too bad I prefer dogs...
The Cat (II)
Charles Baudelaire
I.
In my mind it strolls
As well as in my apartment,
A cat, strong, sweet and delightful.
When it meows, one scarcely hears it,
Its timbre is so tender and discreet;
Whether a growl or an appeasement,
It is always rich and deep?
That is its charm and its secret.
That voice, which pearls and filters
To the darkest recess of my purse
Delights me like a philtre
And fills me like the rhythms of a verse.
It lulls the most cruel pains to sleep
And contains all ecstasies,
It has not the need of words to speak
The lengthiest phraseologies.
There is no bow that tears so profound
On my heart's perfect strings,
No sovereign instrument vibrant with sound
Could stronger in me sing
Than your voice, mysterious
Seraphic, blissful cat? in form an angel,
Strange cat? in which all is
As harmonious as it is subtle.