During the Pandemic I listen to the July 26, 1965 can-les-Pins Recording of A Love Supreme by Ellen Bass
Length of Moon by Arna Bontemps
Nocturne of the Wharves by Arna Bontemps
The Weight by Linda Gregg
What for? by Kim Stafford (only discussed by in person group)
The Sun’s Words by Ai Qing
She Ties my Bow Tie by Gabrielle Calvocoressi
Nutshell:
During the Pandemic... a love supreme:
Kathy declared that this poem is now her favorite by Ellen Bass — although she found it hard to change allegiance from her up-until-now favorite, The Thing Is.
Whether jazz enthusiast or not, everyone appreciated the way Ellen wove the effect of Coltrane’s horn— the elemental breath (aka, spirit, sacred wind)— the repeated “still” (as if we as readers had been with you, listening to him for 37 minutes) in those four repeated notes playing , A love supreme…
We loved the power at the beginning of “A love supreme”, where her love for your daughter, title of the song, Coltrane’s playing, the idea of a supreme love, combine in the again and again, /as though if he says it enough, he can ease/that mercy…
… This generous sound that can mean/anything, nothing, whatever you need.
She had us in the palm of her hand with her questions… the echo of Noah’s flood, the still small voice, the image of perhaps davening elders making sure the Torah is precisely recited. And Coltrane, infinitely patient… offering the same 4 notes. A love supreme, as theme, improvised and returning. 4 notes in the unsayable Yahweh.
It was funny, as there was a miscue as Bernie read, after the Torah line, “everybody” instead of “someone”— and we laughed heartily — how we as readers bring our baggage into the poem, associations and memory sifting in as we sieve and transform the words. (Case in point, Judith brought up the Hindi word for conjoined twins, ude hue judava and bonding came up briefly…)
I fondly call Judith “the eloquent walking encyclopedia” who can recite Shakespeare by heart and tell you all about Indian dance. She praised the poem as “a lavish treasure-filled thing”… David described the religious feeling evoked by the word breath, that “brilliant integration” of sound vibrating and spirit moving through. We all could feel the visceral effect.
I could go on and on… how the precision necessary in reciting the Torah reminded us of Blake and his view, "“Without minute neatness of execution, the sublime cannot exist! Grandeur of ideas is founded on precision of ideas.”
Marna loved the contrast of the cascade of words, the run on referring to nature… and the way the short questions bring us to great metaphysical wonderings.
Arna Bontemps:
Both the poems have an incantatory feel. The first, knowing he wrote as a young 24 year old, Harlem Renaissance poet, led some to believe Length of Moon was more than a meditative piece on the passing of time. What is the "golden hour" ?
Jim picked up on a sense of regrets, others picked up a poignant sense of loss. More miscues arrived in the 4th stanza but are helpful to examine more deeply:
A stone will fall vs. what is written: fail. (inevitability of stone cracking, turning to gravel, sand... ) a rather unexpected fall if failure, of what is expected to hold, to last.
A rose is sure to grow, although what is written is go.
This stanza appears like a turn... what is the something in the imperative "should forget" ? It doesn't mean we will... although the last line seems to indicate this as distinct possibility.
I love that the poem starts in media res with "Then". What is it that makes the golden hour "tick its last"? There is a prophetic sense of doom...
Equally in Nocturne, a beautiful music and personnification of the boats and nocturnal sounds of boats "whining" against the dock. w's, the sharp k's of the captain, the copper coast, linked to the mist, the memory... the dissembling (both as in concealed and pretend) or trees... Restlessness tugs against weariness, in prevalent hiss and slap of s's. The first stanza recalls memories of China, "bright" Bombay, Formosa (so much more melodious a name than Taiwan!). Cities ruined by the sea.
The second stanza repeats Tugging at the dim gray wharf they think... but this time of Africa, and dead men.
Is this only a dream of the little ships or as real as the memories in the first stanza?
We discussed the pros and cons of the very last line. Dave feels it fills in the entire poem, allows us to connect speaker to the ships and an extended metaphor. Someone reminded us that captains refer to their ships as alive.
A gorgeous, ambiguous poem which invites both research and dwelling in a meditation of what uneasiness makes us want to move, what exhausts us, and the role of dreams.
The Weight: what grounds us? and horses? As title, it is repeated in the 10th line as part of the closeness of these two horses put together.
We discussed "enclosure" of the paddock, confinement and Kathy brought up Nelson Mandela bound in his tiny cell where he spent 20 years, yet like fragment describing the horses, "The dignity of being", he maintained his dignity and a vision of freedom which grew in a way no one might have suspected.
Another fragment after "The privacy of them had a river in it." is "Had our universe in it." The lines afterwards bring shivers-- this freedom built at night by stars -- outside of our human efforts of controlling.
We discussed the intuitive nature we cannot know... but which the horses do in their shared intimacy.
Jim mentioned that you can see these horses in Fishers adjacent to the Auburn trail north of the Thruway that perfectly fit the description in the poem. https://www.traillink.com/trail/auburn-trail/
He adds, one, especially, is huge (but not, at least, a Clydesdale).
What For?
Just the in-person group read this one. It reminded Judith of Stephen Crane's poem, In The Dessert
and Edna St. Vincent Millay's, My Heart being Hungry: https://sonnetsandothervices.weebly.com/my-heart-being-hungry-by-edna-st-vincent-millay.html
Beauty and truth have countless poems examining their relationship. What is beauty for? and more questions...about pain of loss, how beauty becomes nourishment for good things... but for truth,
we need to "gnash on salty structures of sorrow, bite the bitter rind."
The Sun's Words: A fitting reminder in March. Knowing that Ai Qing spent 3 years in prison adds a somber slant, reminding us to be grateful!
She ties:
A rather humorous extended metaphor and perfect poem to present on Valentine's day. I love the use of the 2nd person pronoun-- the assumptions of the poet about the assumptions of the reader and "forgive yourself." Small gestures become huge testimony!
Judith was reminded of Blake's poem, I asked a thief to steal me a peach. https://allpoetry.com/I-Asked-A-Thief-To-Steal-Me-A-Peach
No comments:
Post a Comment