Also Apollos · 23 June 2008
We cannot know his legendary head
with eyes like ripening fruit. And yet his torso
is still suffused with brilliance from inside,
like a lamp, in which his gaze, now turned to low,
gleams in all its power. Otherwise
the curved breast could not dazzle you so, nor could
a smile run through the placid hips and thighs
to that dark center where procreation flared.
Otherwise this stone would seem defaced
beneath the translucent cascade of the shoulders
and would not glisten like a wild beast's fur:
would not, from all the borders of itself,
burst like a star: for here there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life.
-Rainer Maria Rilke, Archaic Torso of Apollo
translated by Stephen Mitchell
Posted by (0v0)
Categories: evolution
, having a body
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Immanent and transcendent pratyahara, just like you were talking about!
Posted by: karen · Jun 23, 06:43 PM · #
One of my favorite poems of all time! It takes me back to the fabulous Greek art class I took in college. And that last line. Genius.
Posted by: Yogamum · Jun 23, 07:56 PM · #
You must read this.
Posted by: V · Jun 23, 11:50 PM · #
That is gorgeous, I love the last line.
Posted by: joy · Jun 24, 09:29 AM · #
I like that.
I like these descriptions of the poetic differences between Apollonian and Dionysian.
What would the balance of these two energies be in Ashtanga practice? Could you wax on that in a post? I would be very happy if you did, I think that’s what would tip me… :)
Posted by: Gregor · Jun 24, 09:31 AM · #
Pssst, it’s Supta Urdhva Pada Vajrasana time. Being a wise owl (and beautiful and very kind, too), I thought you might you lend me counsel? ;)
Posted by: joy · Jun 24, 11:10 AM · #
Karen: that is what made me think of this. It’s an amazing poem. I would guess many read it as a recognition of one’s own inadequacy in the bursting “starlight” of the old gods. But what draws me in is the way most of Apollo’s dynamic power-beauty (the blossoming eyes, smile through the hips, the flaring procreation) are in Rike’s imagination because the statue itself is crumbled. Where is god? Who is this watcher that sees everything?
To measure up to a crumbled statue, to reconstitute the archetype in the changed life. A paradoxical call.
I look at so many statues every day. Both on the spines of my books and and the Rodins in the campus sculpture garden (remember, Yogamum?).... Anyway.
V: Ok. This also makes me want to read the book William Gass wrote on reading Rilke. Some day.
Posted by: (0v0) · Jun 24, 01:44 PM · #
Oh god, Gregor. That would be the apotheosis of my recent Nietzsche fetish, yes? Ok. I will take it there. I will need some time to mull.
Posted by: (0v0) · Jun 24, 01:44 PM · #
Textpattern ate my comment in response to Joy. Hilarious. Why is it SO HARD for me to write about asana?
I’ll perservere…
Joy: Right on! The first thing to know is that this is absolutely within grasp, even for us of the short tibias.
But the gate is small and the way is narrow… (Matthew 7:14, sorry).
If pasasana is the gargoyle that guards the second series from those who are not ready for its powers, SUPV is the equally challenging way out of the epic. Think the fellowship of the ring on the way out the Mines of Moria, the way beneath them crumbling as they fly (gingerly) ahead.
Your toe is the ring. Don’t let it go!
I mean it. Devote yourself to your toe. You are meant to deliver it from the mines into the light.
Bury the heel in the stomach and once you begin moving roll quickly, flicking the tibia around quickly and just in time. Hold the elbow close to the body, same as you do elsewhere in the practice. Inhale just before you begin to move—envelope the movement in breath. Know you will need to find just the right moment to flip the foot from flexion to extention in a way that protects the precious.
This is one of the absurd dynamic poses, which is where we can get lazy. Where our willingness to give up, write off, and to skate over the surface show. I have trouble with this transition and have often wanted to just forget doing it right, but… basic, hilarious absurdities like this transition are too often overlooked. To balance that very real impulse to hurry and hope nobody notices, I think of it as a big pose.
Posted by: (0v0) · Jun 24, 02:07 PM · #
Honestly I don’t know what it would be, but mulling is a good sign! :)
Posted by: Gregor · Jun 24, 09:30 PM · #
Owl! You are magnificent. The jungle physician, like I told Susan.
OK. Good. Tomorrow I’ve got the toe and I’m not letting it go. It has been entrusted to me and though I may be short of tibia, I am long on determination. And now, I am rich in knowledge!
I will report back to you soon.
Posted by: joy · Jun 24, 10:39 PM · #
I like Gregor’s post idea, but I think I might be too literal to actually read poetry.
How can the torso see everything I do? I wonder.
I know a good sculpture can seem to contain life though.
Posted by: boodiba · Jun 25, 11:15 AM · #