even death may die

sexta-feira, setembro 22, 2006

Prayer Before Birth ; 9:33 da tarde

[I love this poem. Adrian took it to class once. It's beautiful]

I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.

I am not yet born, console me.
I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.

I am not yet born; provide me
With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk
to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
in the back of my mind to guide me.

I am not yet born; forgive me
For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me,
my treason engendered by traitors beyond me,
my life when they murder by means of my
hands, my death when they live me.

I am not yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when
old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains
frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white
waves call me to folly and the desert calls
me to doom and the beggar refuses
my gift and my children curse me.

I am not yet born; O hear me,
Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God
come near me.

I am not yet born; O fill me
With strength against those who would freeze my
humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
one face, a thing, and against all those
who would dissipate my entirety, would
blow me like thistledown hither and
thither or hither and thither
like water held in the
hands would spill me.

Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.

~Louis MacNeice~

publicada por sancie # 9:33 da tarde 7 Comentários

quinta-feira, setembro 14, 2006

Disobedience (see post below) - the point I was trying, but obviously didn't succeed in making ; 7:15 da tarde

About Disobedience, I do not think I made my point clear (as was brought to my attention, thanks Bee :P ), so here it goes.

I was trying to make a comparison (which maybe I should have plainly made instead of leaving it to an open interpretation) between the poem and the several traditional fairy-tales which so adorably tell us of maidens in distress.

James James Morrison's mother is just such a maiden (probably not literally. lol). And very badly treaten by the author, I should say.

First of all, rather than an individual, she exists only in relation to James. Throughout the whole poem she is known to us as James James Morrison's mother, or some variation of that.

Second, by disobeying her three-year-old know-it-all son, she got herself in all kinds of troubles and alas, there was no prince charming about to do the rescuing. But had she been a good, dutiful (and modest, did you see the bit about the golden gown? Slut!) woman, and listened to her son, she would have been safe enough and not received the natural punishment for her recklessness.

It is explicit throughout the whole poem that the whole business was entirely her fault, and she brought it all upon herself for being such a thoughtless, irresponsible creature who just would not do what her son so wisely told her to.

Thirdly, the author objectifies Jim's mother by stating that she got "Lost or stolen or strayed" or also "mislaid", all words that would more easily be applied to a set of keys or a pet, than a person.

The final blow to her character is James hardly seeming worried about his mother, but only about being blamed for all that happened - which, as stated before, was so not his fault, wise enlightened creature that he is in opposition to her.

And this is the stuff that keeps brainwashing kids all over the place. I knew there was a reason I didn't like A. A. Milne.

And there, I'm done with my ranting. Screw James. I bet his mother just ran away out of sheer boredom, tired to death of his holier-than-thou attitude.

publicada por sancie # 7:15 da tarde 2 Comentários

quarta-feira, setembro 13, 2006

Disobedience ; 12:45 da manhã

[Poems for children. Aren't they cute and adorable? There's nothing like a nice bit of propaganda before bedtime. This one goes to all the nice ladies out there.]

James James
Morrison Morrison
Weatherby George Dupree
Took great
Care of his Mother,
Though he was only three.
James James Said to his Mother,
"Mother," he said, said he;
"You must never go down
to the end of the town,
if you don't go down with me."

James James
Morrison's Mother
Put on a golden gown.
James James Morrison's Mother
Drove to the end of the town.
James James Morrison's Mother
Said to herself, said she:
"I can get right down
to the end of the town
and be back in time for tea."

King John
Put up a notice,
"LOST or STOLEN or STRAYED!
JAMES JAMES MORRISON'S MOTHER
SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN MISLAID.
LAST SEEN
WANDERING VAGUELY:
QUITE OF HER OWN ACCORD,
SHE TRIED TO GET DOWN
TO THE END OF THE TOWN -
FORTY SHILLINGS REWARD!"

James James
Morrison Morrison
(Commonly known as Jim)
Told his
Other relations
Not to go blaming him.
James James
Said to his Mother,
"Mother," he said, said he:
"You must never go down to the end of the town
without consulting me."

James James
Morrison's mother
Hasn't been heard of since.
King John said he was sorry,
So did the Queen and Prince.
King John
(Somebody told me)
Said to a man he knew:
If people go down to the end of the town, well,
what can anyone do?"

(Now then, very softly)
J.J.
M.M.
W.G.Du P.
Took great
C/0 his M*****
Though he was only 3.
J.J. said to his M*****
"M*****," he said, said he:
"You-must-never-go-down-to-the-end-of-the-town-
if-you-don't-go-down-with-ME!"

~A. A. Milne~

publicada por sancie # 12:45 da manhã 4 Comentários