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Poll! (Update)
Not that kind–a poll!
A week or so ago I posted a poll as to possible poets to start posting next year when the “Rubá’í of the Day” series runs out. So far, it’s a three-way tie among Rumi, Kabir, and Walt Whitman, with one vote each. By now the poll is several pages back; therefore, I’m linking to it in this post and encouraging all and sundry to go there and make your voices heard. The ”Rubá’í of the Day” seems to be one of the most consistently popular features here, and I want to find something that will appeal to readers as a follow up. Let me know what you think!
“Ash Wednesday”, by T. S. Eliot
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Ash-Wednesday
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(Courtesy of here)
Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man’s gift and that man’s scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?
Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again
Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice
And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us
Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.
Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.
Poll: Future Poems for Blogging
Here’s the poll I mentioned last time. If you haven’t read the last post, use the link to go there and do so. Then, come back here to respond to the poll. I look forward to hearing from you!
Upcoming Poll!
Last night I was fooling around with tools I hadn’t really used before on WordPress, and I decided I’d try the poll function. There are still plenty of Rubá’iyát to continue the “Rubá’í of the Day” series for at least another year. As I’ve mentioned before, though, I’m pondering what (if anything) to replace it with when it eventually completes its run. I have some ideas, but reader feedback would be helpful. It’s also a good excuse to experiment with polls, so what the heck!
In this post, I’ll give a brief description of the possible alternatives I’m thinking about. Next post will be the actual poll. Remember, it has to be something available in the public domain (thus, printed before 1923, at the present time)–I don’t want issues with copyright. A brief description of possible options I’m looking at is below the cut.
Original Poem for Halloween
Samhain
Restless, they shift upon their earthen bed
As night enfolds the world in its wings drear.
Tonight, uneasy sleep the dead.
The pleasant autumn fades; the heavy tread
Of solstice hastens on the dying year—
Restless, they shift upon their earthen bed.
Forgotten memories stir in dusty head
Of blood that flows and eyes that see and ears that hear;
Tonight, uneasy sleep the dead.
The powdered hearts, no more by passions fed,
Long for love or hate, emotions’ sear;
Restless, they shift upon their earthen bed.
The living feel death’s jealousy, and dread,
And walk with quickened step and glance in fear.
Tonight, uneasy sleep the dead.
With doors and windows barred, await the thread
Of dawn that breaks dark’s hold, restores our cheer.
Restless, they shift upon their earthen bed—
Tonight, uneasy sleep the dead.
A Reading of the Rubáiyaát
Today the last of the Rubáiyát, as translated by Fitzgerald, went up. Tomorrow begins Whinfield’s translation, which will run for the next five hundred days, ending in 2014. In honor of today’s milestone, I am posting the above, which is a recitation of Fitzgerald’s translation. Drake uses, I think, the second edition (I have been posting the first). The second edition is less literal than the first (and of course “literal” was never Fitzgerald’s intention, anyway), but it is the one that is most familiar, and the one I tend to like the best, though I’ve grown to appreciate the first more over the years. In any case, if you’ve enjoyed reading the Rubáiyát, I hope you equally enjoy hearing them; and also that you’ll enjoy the upcoming translation, too.
His Dark Materials, Part 2: Commitments, Propaganda, and Blurry Lines
Just to be clear, if you’ve clicked on the video before reading, I’m not invoking, nor am I exemplifying, Godwin’s Law. Read on and you’ll see what I mean.
I began writing about Philip Pullman’s series of novels His Dark Materials with a discussion of what I believe to be the wrong reasons for dismissing, criticizing, or derogating it. Many, especially in Christian circles, have dismissed it as a piece of atheist propaganda meant to destroy children’s belief in God. Pullman, in essays about C. S. Lewis, has made the counter claim that Lewis, in his Narnia books, was propagandizing to bring children into the Christian fold. My contention was that whether or not either one of them was right was beside the point in terms of the literary merit of either series of books. What I want to do briefly here is to explore that blurry boundary between writing with a passionate aim and propagandizing, and how these relate to art.
To some extent art is about technique and skill. The very word “technique” comes from the Greek technēs, very inadequately translated as “art”. It is better translated as “skill” or “craft” or “art” in the sense of the “art” of doing something. The word for builder or carpenter, tektōn (the word, by the way, which describes the professions of Joseph, wife of Mary, and Jesus of Nazareth in the New Testament, and which doesn’t necessarily imply what we call carpentry), is related to technēs. Without skill or craftsmanship, without having mastery of one’s craft and doing a good job at it, one cannot create art, be it painting a picture, carving a statue, building a good house, building a stone wall, writing a novel, singing a song, or making a movie. Read the rest of this entry
