Besotted, All of You · 15 April 2008
The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware,
joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely, aware.
Henry Miller
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Sweet.
And this my favourite:
Last night as I was sleeping
I dreamt – marvelous error!-
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures
- Antonio Machado
Posted by: Gregor · Apr 15, 04:09 PM · #
Drunk on pure water was Miller. Do you know the pyrotechnic writing he does, based on “Hymie’s wife’s ovaries” which I think is in Tropic of Capricorn? Worth a spin.
Posted by: patrick · Apr 15, 04:26 PM · #
Must find it Patrick because I’m now back in love with Miller, but first pulling my also adored Machado—poet of dreams—from the shelf beside my desk:
El sueno bajo el sol que aturde y ciega,
torrido sueno en la hora de arrebol;
el rio luminoso el aire surca;
esplende la montana;
la tarde es polvo y sol.
Posted by: (0v0) · Apr 15, 04:31 PM · #
Gregor, is this from Soledades? I feel like it should be there, but am not finding it. Quiero leer el version original before someone starts making Birdhouse in your Soul references.
Posted by: (0v0) · Apr 15, 04:43 PM · #
Not the giants!
OK
I snaffled it from my book ‘The Heart Aroused’ by David Whyte. Which is pure brilliant. Much easier than the book about a road.
Anyway, its a lift from the Robert Bly translations ‘Time Alone’, which it appears is detested by the reviewers for him not gettin even close. I kind of don’t wanna see the original now, but I would love to. Babelfish did a very bad translation of your El Sueno! Like Eliza almost!
Posted by: Gregor · Apr 15, 06:04 PM · #
Synchronicity, yo.
Yesterday I told my brother, who used to live in Langley BC (across the border from Whyte’s environs) and who is one subversive artist-poet, to go check out (and perhaps be baffled by) Mister Whyte.
As for Bly, he wrote an arrogant, shallow-sketchy volume promisingly titled A Little Book on the Human Shadow (a book I abhor), so it’s no wonder his translation of otherwise brilliant poetry is as reviled as his translation of an otherwise brilliant idea.
That said, his rendering of the lines you shared is lovely.
I’ll reread Soledades this weekend and post the beehive lines if I find them in there. The rhythm of Machado is so fucking good it almost doesn’t matter if you don’t know his language.
Posted by: (0v0) · Apr 15, 06:17 PM · #
Oh and Gregor, this is kind of how I feel about your man McCarthy.
Posted by: (0v0) · Apr 15, 06:26 PM · #
Yo!
Real funny thing was I dreamt of having three bees in my hand, they glowed like a sun, this white honey illumination, and the awestruck peace I felt with my little friends busy glowing in my hand!
Then I read that poem a month later. Boink.
And no hanging flayed flesh in site. :)
Posted by: Gregor · Apr 16, 03:39 AM · #
Oh, and my friend, who is a writer said her most glowing review of McCarthy was summed up with:
‘He spat’.
Posted by: Gregor · Apr 16, 04:07 AM · #
A review that really inherits Miller’s own tone:
http://www.geocities.com/paul_rim/tropic_cap.htm
Posted by: patrick · Apr 16, 04:10 AM · #
Oh, oh, It’s getting all very interesting.
Posted by: Gregor · Apr 16, 04:22 AM · #
Oh Owl, I just saw this. What a gorgeous quote. Wow. I also love the poem that Gregor shared above.
Words can be magic.
Posted by: Anna · Apr 16, 06:31 AM · #
Wow. I’m filing away a note to myself that if ever I should publish a book of bloviant poetry to keep it out of Owl’s hands. Bloviant poets get NO ego strokes from the Owl.
I tried to find some kind of definition for ‘bloviant’ — lots of people use the word!!! — but I can’t find a concrete explanation for it. Such a shame, as the word has a sharpness that nicely matches its usage.
Posted by: Carl · Apr 16, 10:01 AM · #
No ego strokes it’s true, but nevertheless sometimes I have these terrible outpourings of love and it’s so bad I actually have to blog about it.
I love you people, dammit. And I love Robert Bly’s translations, even if his prose is a bloviator’s bloviant bloviation.
Gregor, just to bring everything back around, and to confirm I haven’t lost my critical thinking abilities, check it out!. I’m glad to see the Miller library do something awesome. Patti Smith (definition of badass) also gave them a benefit, so maybe it’s not all as stuffy as I found it when I visited in November.
Love love love,(OVO)
Posted by: (0v0) · Apr 16, 10:10 AM · #
Oh I am reaching here, but the intuitive is beckoning to lay this catch-all on the carpet. If you have purpose, and humbly (actually) thank those that helped you become the greatness you have become (for without them…), you pass the threshold of masculine feminine duality. The subjective no longer persists. Love and purpose just is. You love, and it shall be recognised. :)
Posted by: Gregor · Apr 16, 11:49 AM · #
You’re crazy, Gregor. I have no idea what the hell you are saying. You and Carl need to talk. He’s into this threshold stuff.
Meanwhile, it’s too late to hide that I think I just posted something eerily similar about the subjective. Masculine and feminine will come back around, but not while we are all just being fish.
If that makes any sense.
There goes my lunch-halfhour and the last of my spinach- almond- strawberry- sprout salad. Alas, back to it.
blub
blub
blub
Posted by: (0v0) · Apr 16, 11:56 AM · #
My gawd that was a bit esoteric, I will have to go play some soccer and ground myself! I think I meant When you are full of love AND can have critical capacity, then ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ are not separate anymore.
Posted by: Gregor · Apr 16, 07:08 PM · #