Week 37: Spirit
Spirit is the quintessential element. It transforms the dirt, fills the air, sparks the flame and brings new life through water. Spirit gives hope gives faith gives peace: beyond all understanding.
09/09:
TWL, Part V: Understanding
321.5 V. What The Thunder Said
321.5. ACT FIVE: Eliot: “In the first part of Part V three themes are employed: the journey to Emmaus, the approach to the Chapel Perilous (see Miss Weston's book) and the present decay of eastern Europe.”
For the journey to Emmaus, see lines 328-330 and then 360-366; for the decay of eastern Europe, see lines 367-385; and for the approach to the Chapel Perilous, see lines 386-395. See also Weston, From Ritual To Romance (note 0.2). These themes, and the more prominent emergence of Eliot’s own voice without allusions (see lines 331-359), will lead to the poem’s “thunder” culmination, beginning at line 396. After the sections of earth, air, fire and water, this might be called the quintessential “spirit” section of the poem, in which the poet begins to find understanding, or more properly a peace that passes understanding (see note 434).
THE VOICE OF THUNDER is the culminating metaphor of Prajapati’s lesson in the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad (see note 400), but thunder is also heard at lines 327 and 342. It is also called upon by Flamineo in note 44, precedes the witches’ entrance at Macbeth 4.1.1 (notes 0.1 and 308) and, while not alluded to directly, is the opening and prevailing “tempestuous sound” in The Tempest (1.1.1).
Thunder’s voice is also heard in Revelation 10:4 (note 0.5):
“And when the seven thunders had uttered their voices, I was about to write: and I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Seal up those things which the seven thunders uttered, and write them not.”
See also John 12:27-30 (note 0.5):
“Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say ? Father, save me from this hour: but for this cause came I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name. Then came there a voice from heaven, saying, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again. The people therefore, that stood by, and heard it, said that it thundered: others said, An angel spake to him. Jesus answered and said, This voice came not because of me, but for your sakes.”
And see Job 26:14 (note 0.5):
“Lo, these are parts of his ways: but how little a portion is heard of him? but the thunder of his power who can understand?”
Finally, see the "thunder of infinite ululations" in Dante (note 0.1), Inferno 4.1-9:
“Broke the deep lethargy within my head
A heavy thunder, so that I upstarted,
Like to a person who by force is wakened;
And round about I moved my rested eyes,
Uprisen erect, and steadfastly I gazed,
To recognise the place wherein I was.
True is it, that upon the verge I found me
Of the abysmal valley dolorous,
That gathers thunder of infinite ululations.”
09/10:
Kissing the Earth
Dostoevsky Final (Russian 141, 11/30/90, Prof. Rubchak)
“Go at once...stand at the crossroads, bow down, [and] kiss the earth,” instructed Sonya (Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment 433, 1866, tr. David Magarshack, 1951). It was a command heavy with implications, and at first Raskolnikov refused to comply. What was she asking?
First, to stand at the crossroads implied that he was to stand at the center of Haymarket Square, the busiest part of the busiest city in Russia. There he would be where the whole world could see him, making himself completely vulnerable to whatever reaction his confession would bring. They might laugh, they might scorn and jeer, they might attack him there, or even stone him; they might just pick him up and take him away, never to return again. But he would have no way of knowing their reaction until he carried out the instruction.
At the crossroads he would be at St. Petersburg’s point of orientation, where there would be street signs and mileage and direction signs; and this would also be his own orientation point. There, based on all the resulting changes in perspective, he would be able to sort things out.
And he would be able to determine the path before him, for it is at the crossroads that one decides direction. As much as one tries to plan such decisions ahead of time, it is only at the crossroads that the choices are actually made and the steps actually taken for the journey’s continuation.
After Sonya spoke these words she offered Raskolnikov a cyprus cross to hang around his neck. “We’ll suffer together, so let us also bear our cross together,” she said (435). Here then was another implication of “crossroads.” Confessing and asking the world for forgiveness is a praiseworthy religious act and a testimony of faith, and yet it is not an easy step to take. The cross to bear along this road is heavy and entails a deep humiliation; it conjures no magic remedy before the symbolic crucifixion, no preview of the resurrection. Yet, Sonya inferred, it was a necessary step for the sinner to take.
Thus Raskolnikov was to stand at the crossroads: he was to bear his cross of repentance, stand in front of all people, recognize where he stood, and determine his future.
And he was to kiss the earth: “...the earth which you have defiled,” Sonya said in full (433), implying that at the crossroads he would be making his apology directly to the world. By murdering, he had not only wronged his particular victims, who now lay under the soil, he had also sinned against all humankind across the globe.
Furthermore, kissing the earth was a demonstration of the deepest humility. He was to bow down and prostrate to the world as low as he possibly could, showing with face to the ground that he deferred to everyone.
By touching the soil this way he would also atune himself with “Holy Mother Earth,” from whence he came, upon which he walked, and whither he was going. Thus, in one action he would recognize his origin, his existence and his mortality, acknowledging his defilement with respect to all three.
But finally, kissing the earth is more than a humble, atoning apology. It is experiencing a purgatory cleansing by bringing sensuality to its fullest: the taste, the smell, the feel of city dirt next to one’s nose and on one’s lips would stir the soul. And indeed, when Raskolnikov put Sonya’s directions into practice, his sensuality was so dramatic that one observer remarked that he was drunk. “He simply plunged... into this new and overwhelming sensation... tears gushed from his eyes... and [he] kissed the earth with joy and rapture” (537).
09/11:
Waking The Wind
from Walled Gardens
Those unable to speak their love
are as cold as hammered steel;
Those unable to grieve
are a vacant wind;
Those who are ungrateful
are frightened of themselves;
and those who cannot remember God
have grown older than the hills.
Say the name, O wild rose,
speak the unpronounceable;
Moisten your lips, move your tongue
and praise the indescribable;
Utter the words of every spring
waking the divine;
Open your mouth, O wild rose,
and reveal your hidden gold.
09/12:
Tending The Fire
from Walled Gardens
I have no argument
for you, my friend;
no matter how the fires of
conviction burn within,
I shall remain
conspicuously calm,
let others recommend the course
of conversation,
let them render
judgment on us all:
no less convicted,
they of the open air,
until the flicker of their flame
surrenders to the wind.
For you, my friend,
I have no argument
but the wind itself:
may it ever fuel your dance
and feed your soul
and start your turbines turning;
and that inner fire,
may it be your self content:
even as the wind begins
to rage against you,
may you ever keep your spirits
trimmed and burning.
09/13:
Parting The Waters
A child asked, where was God
when the Red Sea waters drowned
the Pharaoh’s men? Never mind
Moses and the Pharaoh,
where was God for the soldiers
who had no choice but to do
what they were told to do?
where was God for those
who didn’t know the rules
of Passover, whose children
were killed for the ignorance
of their parents?
This from the mouth of a baptized babe:
Where? Where was God
for the unchosen, those
who were drowned before they had
a chance to be baptized?
God leads his sheep to drink
from still waters, but sends
his enemies to drown in
a stormy sea,
but where was God for the soldiers
without a promised land?
This from a little lamb, carried
so long in the shepherd’s arms:
I do believe in God
who created all water
and quenches all thirst
and cleanses all impurities,
but where was God
in the desert and the dirt
of those who did not know
where to turn
when the impartial waters fell?
This from a child who turns to me,
and what am I to say?
My mouth, my faith is parched
and dry and without words,
except to admit how much
I do not know,
but I try to find words anyway:
Let it be said that in this house
we talk about God,
and every thought is a prayer.
09/14:
Elements
Fire, wind, ground and water: we
have thrived on these, would hold and harness these.
Science, passion, faith, philosophy:
we turn to these and would depend on these
to understand small sparks, short gusts, the mist
and dust of east and west, of north and south;
we cling, we clutch and to the death defend
the corners of existence of and in
a universe we cannot comprehend,
nor are these elements we can control,
the warmth, the breath, the earth, the very blood,
of fire and wind, of ground and water: we,
for all we grasp, remain beholden to
the God of time and space and land and sea.
09/15:
Moleskin 4.9: To Be Continued
The bus rides were round trip tangents, though, that always seemed to bring me back to my summer of unwanted change. But pardon these flash-forwards and circling back again: I am getting ahead of myself and forgetting my lines. And now, my dear other, the point. These shoes you are being asked to try, just to get their feel and fit, will never be your own footwear; maybe they pinch too much or don’t look like anything you’d ever wear. Maybe they’re too old and boring, or maybe they smell with age. So take them off now, and put your own shoes back on: slip into what you know, the life I do not know, and be on your way. Return to your own summer of twelve, or thirteen or fourteen or forty: but please, let me continue. There is still more to the story.
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