More poetry, and a book recommendation
Ararat
After the ark plunges out of the water
and the survivors, in the chaos
of their happiness, burst
onto dry land, they dance
under the bluest sky they've ever seen,
shaking their hips and lifting their arms
and shouting for their prey.
And when the rainbow vaults across the sky
and the doves vanish into the light,
they know they've been saved.
But destruction comes to the impervious fish
who like sly speculators exploited the flood
for its great cargo of flesh.
Now on the hardened shore,
their exposed fins grow useless
and their open mouths gasp for air.
-- Dan Pagis
Interesting imagery, which reminded me (faintly) of a book I just finished yesterday: American Gods by Neil Gaiman.
It's a beautiful, offbeat tale of mythic proportions that I cannot really describe. The whole of it is dark and strange, but rather familiar, "a picaresque journey across America where the travelers are even stranger than the roadside attractions."
More than that, it's a tale that teases its readers with a slightly warped perception of old legends from all over the world, some of which are buried just beneath the surface of the unconscious -- as if one could try a little harder, and remember where that tale was heard before. These forgotten gods and their stories, their histories, give the book a certain gravity that goes beyond the text in front of us.
After the ark plunges out of the water
and the survivors, in the chaos
of their happiness, burst
onto dry land, they dance
under the bluest sky they've ever seen,
shaking their hips and lifting their arms
and shouting for their prey.
And when the rainbow vaults across the sky
and the doves vanish into the light,
they know they've been saved.
But destruction comes to the impervious fish
who like sly speculators exploited the flood
for its great cargo of flesh.
Now on the hardened shore,
their exposed fins grow useless
and their open mouths gasp for air.
-- Dan Pagis
Interesting imagery, which reminded me (faintly) of a book I just finished yesterday: American Gods by Neil Gaiman.
It's a beautiful, offbeat tale of mythic proportions that I cannot really describe. The whole of it is dark and strange, but rather familiar, "a picaresque journey across America where the travelers are even stranger than the roadside attractions."
More than that, it's a tale that teases its readers with a slightly warped perception of old legends from all over the world, some of which are buried just beneath the surface of the unconscious -- as if one could try a little harder, and remember where that tale was heard before. These forgotten gods and their stories, their histories, give the book a certain gravity that goes beyond the text in front of us.