This is a continuation. To start at the beginning of the appendix, click here.
To read the original poem, click here here.
V. DUSTY DEATH
Part V recalls the three recurring ages of Roman antiquity: the long-past Golden Age, the Silver Age in which we now live (see Professor Gainsworth’s books), and the coming descent into the soulless Iron Age.
318-320. Cf. Psalms 77:16-18.
325. Cf. “Song of Myself,” Whitman.
327. The mind, too, is like dead ashes. I heard that somewhere.
335. Hilary’s conquest of Mt. Everest. See line 357. After he and Norgay took pictures of themselves at the summit, the Kiwi unzipped and drained his lizard on the rooftop of the world.
339. From the Dhammapada.
360. Cf. “Self-Pity,” D.H. Lawrence.
389. Christ’s betrayal by Judas.
400. ‘al-Haqq, al-Hail, al-Hubb’ (Truth, Strength, Love). According to Earth, Wind and Fire, all these are written in the Stone. See also 410-415.
403. The spirit gives life, but the letter kills. St. Paul, perhaps, or some such fellow.
410-414. The Eightfold Path of Buddha’s dharma.
417. More about the uncountable Purusha can be found in the Purusha Suktam. Verses 13-14 are especially significant:
From his mouth came forth
The men of learning
And of his arms
Were warriors made
From his thighs came
The trading people
And his feet gave
Birth to servants.
Of his mind, the moon is born
Of his gaze, the shining sun
From his mouth, Thunder and Fire
And of his life’s breath,
The whistling wind
Space unfolds
From his navel
The sky well formed
From his head
His feet, the earth
His ears the Quarters
Thus they thought up
All the worlds
425. I do not know the pen behind this charming little tune. I first heard it from Ryan Charter upon his kindergarten graduation.
426. Cf. Verlaine, Sagesse, Bk. 3, vi.
432. The net of jewels, in which every jewel contains the reflection of all the others. Representative of the ten thousand things.
Whew! That's it! Come back tomorrow for more!
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
The Outsider Appendix (Part III)
This is a continuation. To start at the beginning of the appendix, click here.
To read the original poem, click here here.
III. THE STARS WOULD BE SHINING
174-176. Cf. Puccini, Tosca:
E lucevan le stelle,
e olezzava la terra,
stridea l’uscio dell’orto
e un passo sfiorava la rena…
191. Cf. “Dragula,” Rob Zombie.
193. Cf. “Ozymandias of Egypt,” Shelley.
195. A unification of “18 Wheels on a Big Rig” by Stuart Mitchell and a website of no small notoriety.
199. Cf. “The Blind,” Baudelaire, 92.
216. Virgil, here neither the poet of the Aeneid or Dante’s hell/purgatory tour guide, is actually the primary character in the poem, central to its meaning. His self-immolation, pitiable and inevitable, will take on a heroic aspect, especially if one considers it in the context of a Ragnorak-like uprising, and with the inexplicable and cruel death of his amour, it is a startling indictment of the ‘divine.’
223. While the thematic repetition was not intentioned, it is interesting to compare imagery here with that of the snowy mansion in Part V, if one is so inclined.
250. Compare to Calpurnia in Julius Caesar.
262-272. Cf. Ovid, Metamorphoses, xi, Orpheus.
273. Cf. Puccini, Tosca, II.
282. Most flowers have a representative meaning, as this one does.
IV. INNOCENCE IS DROWNED
312. The definitive account of Stone Creek’s debt to this semi-mythical muse (who had a flair for Faustian bargains) can be found in Bear Lester’s Essays from Stone Creek (Hardcore Utilitarian Press). Mr. Lester knows more about Classical Greek than I do about Modern English.
316. Cf. Psalms 46:9. The inclusion of so many biblical and Eastern religious passages in this text may puzzle those who know me, but then again God is not without a sense of humor.
For the last installment (honestly!) click here.
To read the original poem, click here here.
III. THE STARS WOULD BE SHINING
174-176. Cf. Puccini, Tosca:
E lucevan le stelle,
e olezzava la terra,
stridea l’uscio dell’orto
e un passo sfiorava la rena…
191. Cf. “Dragula,” Rob Zombie.
193. Cf. “Ozymandias of Egypt,” Shelley.
195. A unification of “18 Wheels on a Big Rig” by Stuart Mitchell and a website of no small notoriety.
199. Cf. “The Blind,” Baudelaire, 92.
216. Virgil, here neither the poet of the Aeneid or Dante’s hell/purgatory tour guide, is actually the primary character in the poem, central to its meaning. His self-immolation, pitiable and inevitable, will take on a heroic aspect, especially if one considers it in the context of a Ragnorak-like uprising, and with the inexplicable and cruel death of his amour, it is a startling indictment of the ‘divine.’
223. While the thematic repetition was not intentioned, it is interesting to compare imagery here with that of the snowy mansion in Part V, if one is so inclined.
250. Compare to Calpurnia in Julius Caesar.
262-272. Cf. Ovid, Metamorphoses, xi, Orpheus.
273. Cf. Puccini, Tosca, II.
282. Most flowers have a representative meaning, as this one does.
IV. INNOCENCE IS DROWNED
312. The definitive account of Stone Creek’s debt to this semi-mythical muse (who had a flair for Faustian bargains) can be found in Bear Lester’s Essays from Stone Creek (Hardcore Utilitarian Press). Mr. Lester knows more about Classical Greek than I do about Modern English.
316. Cf. Psalms 46:9. The inclusion of so many biblical and Eastern religious passages in this text may puzzle those who know me, but then again God is not without a sense of humor.
For the last installment (honestly!) click here.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
The Outsider Appendix (Part II)
This is a continuation. To start at the beginning of the appendix, click here.
To read the original poem, click here here.
II. BRING THE PAIN
75. This happens more than I thought.
91. Cf. The Mabignogion, Owein.
96. Cf. The Iliad, VIII.
101. Cf. Tropic of Capricorn, Henry Miller.
105. Cf. “New York Minute,” Don Henley.
124. From one of Aesop’s lesser-known fables. One’s bag of faults in front is typically smaller than that one carries in back.
133. Admiral Yamamoto after losing nearly all his carriers at Midway.
139. Cf. “In Flanders Field,” John McCrae.
161. The tenth avatar of Vishnu, who at the end of the Kaliyuga, will appear in person on a white horse named Kalki.
170. Cf. Richard III.
For the next installment, click here.
To read the original poem, click here here.
II. BRING THE PAIN
75. This happens more than I thought.
91. Cf. The Mabignogion, Owein.
96. Cf. The Iliad, VIII.
101. Cf. Tropic of Capricorn, Henry Miller.
105. Cf. “New York Minute,” Don Henley.
124. From one of Aesop’s lesser-known fables. One’s bag of faults in front is typically smaller than that one carries in back.
133. Admiral Yamamoto after losing nearly all his carriers at Midway.
139. Cf. “In Flanders Field,” John McCrae.
161. The tenth avatar of Vishnu, who at the end of the Kaliyuga, will appear in person on a white horse named Kalki.
170. Cf. Richard III.
For the next installment, click here.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
The Outsider Appendix (Part I)
This is an appendix to "The Outsider." It, too, is "written" by Tedmund Arlen Shinarook.
To read the original poem, click here here.
NOTES
Much of the prophecy, as well as some anecdotes and personal remembrances in the poem were adapted from Professor Charles P. Gainsworth III’s book on Stone Creek municipal history: Stone Creek: Present Iniquity and Future Doom. Incidentally, while I do not recommend trying to read it in one sitting, Professor Gainsworth’s work illuminates brilliantly many of my themes; and his volumes resonate (in the tradition of Gibbons and Trevelyan) with the peculiar energy that makes the citizenry of Stone Creek do as they do. There is another book that has had a profound influence on my outlook, as this poem clearly reveals; On the Heights of Despair; I drew particular inspiration from the essays On Death, On Sadness, and Capitulation. No one familiar with Cioran’s oeuvre will misapprehend my choices regarding references or anything else.
I. QUADRIVIUM
Line 5 Cf. “September,” Earth, Wind and Fire.
20. Cf. Matthew 11:28.
31. Cf. The Consul, II. i.
40. Id. II. i.
41. I of course am referring here to the seven liberal arts of the medieval Western university, whose manifestations have been adopted for my own purposes. Music, strangely one of the sciences back then, would have been characterized in the following fashion: a woman in a robe with twinkling discs at the head of music-makers, a procession of poets, musicians, goddesses, and the daughters of Zeus, the three Graces Aglaia (brilliance), Euphrosyne (Joy) and Thalia (Bloom). Geometry and Rhetoric were accompanied by Pythagoras and Cicero respectively; Arithmetic is portrayed traditionally, but Grammar and Dialectic had many more accessories than were mentioned here. Astronomy of the golden wings (who has much in common with Urania in Part IV) is crucial, Mistress Thomas insists, to any understanding of the future.
58. Verlaine, Mon Rêve Familier, Poèmes Saturniens, VI.
Je fais souvent ce rêve étrange et pénétrant
D’une femme inconnue, et que j’aime, et qui m’aime
Et qui n’est, chaque fois, ni tout à fait la même
Ni tout à fait une autre, et m’aime et me comprend.
72. Ionesco, Rhinoceros, III, Dudard.
74. Verlaine, Sagesse, Livre I, vii.
This is a continuation. For the next installment, click here.
To read the original poem, click here here.
NOTES
Much of the prophecy, as well as some anecdotes and personal remembrances in the poem were adapted from Professor Charles P. Gainsworth III’s book on Stone Creek municipal history: Stone Creek: Present Iniquity and Future Doom. Incidentally, while I do not recommend trying to read it in one sitting, Professor Gainsworth’s work illuminates brilliantly many of my themes; and his volumes resonate (in the tradition of Gibbons and Trevelyan) with the peculiar energy that makes the citizenry of Stone Creek do as they do. There is another book that has had a profound influence on my outlook, as this poem clearly reveals; On the Heights of Despair; I drew particular inspiration from the essays On Death, On Sadness, and Capitulation. No one familiar with Cioran’s oeuvre will misapprehend my choices regarding references or anything else.
I. QUADRIVIUM
Line 5 Cf. “September,” Earth, Wind and Fire.
20. Cf. Matthew 11:28.
31. Cf. The Consul, II. i.
40. Id. II. i.
41. I of course am referring here to the seven liberal arts of the medieval Western university, whose manifestations have been adopted for my own purposes. Music, strangely one of the sciences back then, would have been characterized in the following fashion: a woman in a robe with twinkling discs at the head of music-makers, a procession of poets, musicians, goddesses, and the daughters of Zeus, the three Graces Aglaia (brilliance), Euphrosyne (Joy) and Thalia (Bloom). Geometry and Rhetoric were accompanied by Pythagoras and Cicero respectively; Arithmetic is portrayed traditionally, but Grammar and Dialectic had many more accessories than were mentioned here. Astronomy of the golden wings (who has much in common with Urania in Part IV) is crucial, Mistress Thomas insists, to any understanding of the future.
58. Verlaine, Mon Rêve Familier, Poèmes Saturniens, VI.
Je fais souvent ce rêve étrange et pénétrant
D’une femme inconnue, et que j’aime, et qui m’aime
Et qui n’est, chaque fois, ni tout à fait la même
Ni tout à fait une autre, et m’aime et me comprend.
72. Ionesco, Rhinoceros, III, Dudard.
74. Verlaine, Sagesse, Livre I, vii.
This is a continuation. For the next installment, click here.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
The Outsider (Part IX)
This is a continuation. To start from the beginning, click here.
The girl of auburn locks looks to the night
And whispers in e minor to the moon
And looks for wild geese already flown away
Breathes, and purses her lips
And walks tetchily homeward down a matted trail
And into a field freshly snowed
Meets a blue heron, who stands solid
And motionless recalling map pins and tiny flags.
On this snowy plain near the mansion
In this inverted season, the ice is melting
As stolid glaciers melt, below the surface
There exists a secret fault, the final answer within.
Winter goes, and spring comes,
The dead lie dreaming ever near.
We dip our hands in the same dish
Did not see that one coming
Goog goog goog
Into the lake of fire. And the band
Threw down their instruments
Between the Nahrain the nightmare rouses itself,
Born of the boots, raised by the saw
Nursed by the pear in that banal museum.
The guests loiter, eyeing the prepared table.
She wipes the dry death from the setting
A H
al-Haqq: where are we going?
Citizens, a white cloud falling over my eyes
The killing letters of a fire-breathing text
Proffered to a numbed generation of sleepers
While elders, who go before, paint themselves sages
Needing no mirror to see their own eyes
And dictating spirit terms with their absolving pen
And contemning their heirs with puffy abuse
As their fire flickers and dies
A H
al-Hail: I have seen the stone
Traced the stone with my finger and known
I spoke of the stone, always in my mind
Acting on the stone, the calling in my mind
Purpose I find, aevanescent recollection
Attention means attention
A H
al-Hubb: From his gaze the shining sun
Was formed, his mouth breathed thunder and fire
Even as we breathe, from his navel all space
Was formed, one blood, uncountable heads and eyes
Beyond grasping hands
I sat in the nothingness
Thinking, before the all was
Thus I thought up all the world
He screams and he cusses and wrecks all the busses
Qu’as-tu fait de ta jeunesse
Ô toi que voilà pleurant sans cesse―lat be lat be
Dis-moi, qu’as-tu fait?
These eyes have seen across ages
Through every man’s sight. Purusha seith this.
Al-Haqq. Al-Hail. Al-Hubb.
Ji ji mu ge
Not the end!!! Come back tomorrow for the appendix, in true Eliot-style...
The girl of auburn locks looks to the night
And whispers in e minor to the moon
And looks for wild geese already flown away
Breathes, and purses her lips
And walks tetchily homeward down a matted trail
And into a field freshly snowed
Meets a blue heron, who stands solid
And motionless recalling map pins and tiny flags.
On this snowy plain near the mansion
In this inverted season, the ice is melting
As stolid glaciers melt, below the surface
There exists a secret fault, the final answer within.
Winter goes, and spring comes,
The dead lie dreaming ever near.
We dip our hands in the same dish
Did not see that one coming
Goog goog goog
Into the lake of fire. And the band
Threw down their instruments
Between the Nahrain the nightmare rouses itself,
Born of the boots, raised by the saw
Nursed by the pear in that banal museum.
The guests loiter, eyeing the prepared table.
She wipes the dry death from the setting
A H
al-Haqq: where are we going?
Citizens, a white cloud falling over my eyes
The killing letters of a fire-breathing text
Proffered to a numbed generation of sleepers
While elders, who go before, paint themselves sages
Needing no mirror to see their own eyes
And dictating spirit terms with their absolving pen
And contemning their heirs with puffy abuse
As their fire flickers and dies
A H
al-Hail: I have seen the stone
Traced the stone with my finger and known
I spoke of the stone, always in my mind
Acting on the stone, the calling in my mind
Purpose I find, aevanescent recollection
Attention means attention
A H
al-Hubb: From his gaze the shining sun
Was formed, his mouth breathed thunder and fire
Even as we breathe, from his navel all space
Was formed, one blood, uncountable heads and eyes
Beyond grasping hands
I sat in the nothingness
Thinking, before the all was
Thus I thought up all the world
He screams and he cusses and wrecks all the busses
Qu’as-tu fait de ta jeunesse
Ô toi que voilà pleurant sans cesse―lat be lat be
Dis-moi, qu’as-tu fait?
These eyes have seen across ages
Through every man’s sight. Purusha seith this.
Al-Haqq. Al-Hail. Al-Hubb.
Ji ji mu ge
Not the end!!! Come back tomorrow for the appendix, in true Eliot-style...
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