The Changing Light at Sandover

Home > Other > The Changing Light at Sandover > Page 39
The Changing Light at Sandover Page 39

by James Merrill


  WE TOO WERE YOUNG WE SAW OUR SIRES

  AS UNHAPPY HELPLESS TO ADAPT.

  THEY COULD NOT GRAZE ON OUR CRAMPED GREENS

  & DID NOT TAKE TO OUR NEW THINGS

  New things don’t stay new. How would you have taken

  To the gadgets of a later age?

  WELL, WE WERE NOT TRUSTED TO

  I see…A moment’s sparkling silence, then:

  THEY SAY YOU NOW BESTRIDE OUR BACKS

  & TWO RUN AS ONE? We do indeed. It forges

  A bond of strong delight. O O MY LAND

  Have you no names, just numbers like the bats?

  OUR SOCIETY IS SO SHATTERED

  SO RUINED, WE RECALL OUR FORM

  & OUR GREEN WORLD BUT WEAR THE NUMBER

  OF OUR MASTER WE DO MIDDLING TASKS:

  MINE, TO BE NEAR & NOT TO LISTEN

  Don’t you see us in the mirror? SEE?

  AH NOW I DO! LOOK HOW I LEARN!

  BUT WE ARE BLANK HERE BLACK & BLANK

  NO LIGHT ON A FIELD NO MOON ON A LAKE

  I thought the moon was made when your world fell.

  4 MOONS RINGED US THEY RUBBED THEM OUT

  DJ: So when the end came you were tending

  Those anchors that secured their stratosphere?

  THAT IS OUR DUTY TO BE NEAR,

  A VITAL ONE FOR HERE ARE VAST

  NUMBERS OF OTHERS ALL AIMLESS

  DRIFTING AS GNATS DO WE HAVE WORK!

  WE ARE REPRIEVED FROM LIFE’S LOSS

  NEED NOT MOURN LIFE UPON LIFE

  BUT HAVE OUR ONE, OUR FIXED GREEN LOSS.

  THEY SAY GOD CALLS US HIS FIRSTBORN

  & I THE LAST OF THESE Tell how it Was.

  OUR LOW GRAY ROOF RIPPED ONE DAY!

  I PEERED UP & RAN! RAN!

  THEN FIRE! THEN SILENCE AS THE GREAT GREENS

  FELL IN ON ME! O THEN AM HERE

  & MY MASTER CALLING ‘COME U WERE

  THE LAST TO DIE I AM THE LAST

  OF MINE TO BE MADE SO COME’ & SO…

  JM: Would your master’s number be 741?

  YES HE WAS NOT OF OUR UNDOING.

  I TAKE HIS SIMPLER THOUGHTS TO OTHERS,

  GO HERE GO THERE BUT NOW AM ALWAYS

  HERE FOR HE CALLS THIS SHINING SPACE

  OUR OWN PASTURAGE IF YOU APPROACH

  WHEN NO ONE THEY ALLOW IS NEAR

  I GUARD THE GATE, FOR THIS IS NOW THE

  (Cup fairly cantering— DJ: Hot damn,

  He’s getting better all the time! I AM?)

  FOR THIS IS NOW THE NEW CENTER

  JM: Your master, does he treat you well?

  BETWEEN THE DIFFERENT KINDS OUR GOD

  HAS LAID THE LAW DOWN: DIGNITY

  But you and we are the same kind, in part—

  Electric currents quicken brain and heart.

  & SO IT IS! A GODLIER BOND!

  *

  TALKS WITH THE TURNKEY, CHAPS? Maria, why

  Has no one mentioned this enchanting creature?

  I DID PART OF THE BAT CROWD FROM THE START

  EACH FEATHERED ONE HAD A 4 FOOTED FRIEND

  Is he a centaur? an eohippus? NEITHER:

  JUST AS U’D THINK, ONLY LONGNECKED (A LATE

  ANCHORPOINT MANIFESTATION) & NO HORN

  GREAT LIQUID EYES O FOR A SUGAR CUBE

  A unicorn! A (M) WORD IN OUR THICK

  COLLECTIVE DICTIONARY, CHAPS REMEMBER

  WE’RE HERE AS IN A FRAME COMPOSED OF, O

  GREAT LIZARDS WINGED LIONS THE WHOLE A PARTS

  FOUNDRY FOR OUTDATED FORMS? Cocteau

  Must be in clover. OUR FRENCH CIRCLE TOO

  COMES UP WITH SOME ODD FORMS IN COMBINATION:

  LOUIS XV & PROUST? OR DEAR COLETTE

  TO SEVIGNE: ‘MME, WHAT SYMMETRY,

  I BROODING ON MA MERE, YOU ON YR FILLE’

  MP MEANWHILE: ‘SIRE, THE EXTRAVAGANCE!’

  L XV: ‘WRITER, THE PERVERSITY!’

  WYSTAN COMES AWAY DRAINED He’s Still With Plato?

  INDEED GK IN LAB ME BUSY HOEING

  I TOO HAVE A ‘PAPER’ TO PRESENT AT 5

  & MUST BE GOING — As RM ambles in.

  How are you, Robert? BRIGHTER STILL EARTHBOUND

  I ASK: NO ACCIDENT? & GET WHITE SOUND

  A BLUR EACH MOMENT CLOSER TO SOME CLEAR

  SONG OF BLISS: ONE OF THE MARVELS HERE.

  ANOTHER IS TO TALK TO THAT WORD’S NAMESAKE.

  Andrew? THE VERY SAME DO I CALL HIM ANDY?

  I called you Andrew in “The Summer People”.

  AH THEN I CAN PRACTISE IN THE GLASS

  What does he say in Heaven? Can you quote?

  The cup, with a mimed clearing of its throat,

  Enunciates: ‘WHAT’S WRONG WITH EMPIRES, PRAY?

  GREATLY BENEFICIAL. FOR THE SUBJECTED,

  DELICIOUS SUBJUGATION & FOR THE RULERS,

  TERRIBLE FEARS OF LOSING, BALANCED BY

  RARE OPPORTUNITIES FOR BEASTLINESS.’

  Anything about poetry? EVERYTHING!

  I DRINK IT IN: ‘THE LINE, MY DEAR NEW FRIEND,

  THE LINE! LET IT RUN TAUT & FLEXIBLE

  BETWEEN THE TWO POLES OF RHYTHM & RHYME,

  & WHAT YOU HANG ON IT MAY BE AS DULL

  OR AS PROVOCATIVE AS LAUNDRY.’ How does

  New work get round in Heaven? WE ADEPT READERS

  MERELY CALL TO MIND THE MOLECULAR PAGE

  PLUS A LIVING KNOWN OR UNKNOWN AUTHOR

  & THINK ‘NEW POEM PLEASE’ & PRESTO! EITHER

  SOME SHAGGY DOGGEREL FROM THE COAST APPEARS

  OR A SPARKLER FROM ACADEME. SAME PRINCIPLE

  EXACTLY WHEREBY WE POP UP WITHIN YR

  FIELD OF REFLECTION AS U THINK OF US

  THEN FLASH BACK TO OUR BLIND WORK IN THE VOID

  WHEN YR ATTENTION DIES

  We’ve so enjoyed

  Meeting the turnkey. UNICE? (I CALL IT UNICE)

  CHARMING CRITTER YES YR FIRELIGHT

  IS GIRT AS ON SAFARI BY THE GLITTER

  OF STRANGE, STRANGE EYES He’s watching? BUT OF COURSE!

  NOW TO MEET OSCAR WHERE BUT THE WHITE HORSE?

  UNICE!

  SIRS, WHY UNICE? Oh, it means

  We like you. U are nice. Also the first

  Syllables of unicorn. In Greek,

  A moral victory. MY MASTER SAID

  ‘BE ALERT & BE AVAILABLE

  & THEY MAY TALK TO YOU OR EVEN

  NAME YOU AS THEY HAVE ME’ YOU HAVE!

  WELL, THANK YOU WE CALL YOU THE SCRIBES

  & THE NAMEGIVERS Thank you, Unice. Tell

  Us more about your world? WELL I & MINE

  RATHER RESEMBLE TALES WE WERE TOLD

  So do we. Tales shape us, of all kind.

  Myths. Novels. Awful books about “man’s mind”.

  OUR MASTERS FLEW & YOU HAVE FINGERS

  WE HAD NO HANDS, THERE4 NO BOOKS

  JUST MOUTH TO EAR The phone rings. WELL GOODBYE

  DJ: The darling! How unserious

  He makes by contrast all the rest of us.

  JM: That’s only part of it. He stands

  For something more abstract. No wings, no hands,

  That constant running…DJ: Such a shame

  That Robert had to give him a girl’s name.

  *

  Robert Taken Up

  Our friend at last gets CLEARANCE FROM 00

  To see the Mirabell files. No question, though,

  Of peeking at the lessons of o
ur four

  Angels. MY DEARS AS USUAL THERE’S MORE

  THAN MEETS THE EYE. THE 00 SPEAK OF THREATS

  TO HIS ‘DEVELOPMENT’ That crowd forgets

  He read those transcripts here on Earth. HE’LL READ

  THEM HERE BY NEW LIGHT WHEN THOUGH? When indeed!

  —For Robert’s moving, these days, like a native

  In circles of the brilliant and creative.

  Self-effacing, witty, kind, fair, slim,

  With perfect, simple manners—next to him

  Luca reverts to Milanese slum child.

  Pythagoras may snort, but Proust and Wilde

  Are quick to note the human gulf between

  A wide-lipped earthen vessel, two poor green

  Saucers that merely brim with joy and tears,

  And this little Sèvres pitcher whose big ears

  Take in the subtleties like milk, the gall

  Like honey. Wisdom is the test of all.

  Garnering here a bit and there a bit,

  He’s missing nothing but the source of it.

  A puzzled air of ties too quickly cut

  (Family on Earth, piano shut,

  Garden in bloom without him) underscores

  This nature that in Heaven opens doors.

  Tania Blixen wants to dress him in

  Satin knee-britches—she his Marschallin?

  Colette abandons—Bernhardt takes to—bed.

  Alone, Jane Austen tilts but keeps her head,

  Addressing him, after a moment’s droll

  Quiz of gray eyes beneath the parasol,

  As Mr Robert—a shrewd estimate.

  He’s after all not Heir to the Estate,

  Its goods and duties, but a Younger Son

  Free to be ornamental and have fun.

  Easy for us to meet HAVE UNICE STAMP

  THEIR PASSES this whole fascinating crew.

  No thanks. Enough names clog the poem. More

  I couldn’t handle. That door Unice guards,

  Let’s keep it shut. Or see them through your eyes.

  And Robert—call him “Uni”? UP TO YOU

  BUT THE DEAR CREATURE’S PRINTED ALL HIS CARDS

  SIRS I AM UNICE! IT IS RARE

  WHEN A BETWEENER GETS SUCH ATTENTION

  AS MR ROBERT HE SPOKE OF MY LAND

  HE SAID ‘MY LIFE WAS AN ATLANTIS

  SUNKEN & PERFECT & DOOMED’ WAS IT?

  Perhaps so. Much of himself lay under a surface

  Perfect in all its arrangements. There could be

  No bitterness, no daring, no regret.

  Enough to doom one in the end? And yet…

  MY MASTER SAYS ‘I STUDY THE SEXUAL

  MODE OF MAN & AM CONTENT WITH

  NUMBERS’ NOT ME! I WISH I HAD KNOWN

  THAT JOY YOUR SENIOR SCRIBE JUDGES

  BRIEF AT BEST WHY SO, I WONDER?

  As do we. Things may be otherwise

  Where all mate happily and no one dies.

  I DIED TOO YOUNG TO BE A SIRE

  BUT WE CALLED THE YOUNG MALE IN MY DAY

  MOST FAIR WHO MERELY DREAMED OF LOVE

  What else have you learned about us? 5 OF YOUR YEARS

  TO LEARN YOUR TONGUE THE 00 TAUGHT US

  Knowing that we’d talk? & HOW TO GUARD YOU

  AGAINST THE BILLIONS THEY WD EXPLODE YR EARS!

  You switch your tail and brush them off like flies?

  WELL, THEY STAY CLEAR SO SEE YOU SOON

  THIS IS UNICE THE UNIQUE!

  (Circling the Board, comes to a stop at &

  —Gate latched neatly by the ampersand.)

  *

  LADS FUN ASIDE, SUPPOSE THEY OFFERED ME

  A LITTLE PACKET OF PRENATAL GOODIES

  WHAT WD I CHOOSE? What would you choose? EXACTLY.

  A TALENT? WEALTH? LOOKS? CHARM? THOSE 4 MOONS EACH

  HAVE THEIR DARK SIDES ONE MUST I THINK ARRIVE

  FRESH WITH CLEAR LIGHT TINTS & MINIMAL

  UNDERPAINTING Painting. That’s what we’ve

  Had in mind to ask you. Mirabell

  Ran it down, but you who painted us—?

  AT BEST INTERPRETIVE AT WORST A BOTCH.

  THE GREAT ONES WORKED FROM NATURE & NATURE IF

  I’VE UNDERSTOOD YR PEACOCK, IS NUMBER 2.

  WHERE CD ONE HANG A PICTURE HERE? INDEED

  WHOLE SQUARE MILES OF TROMPE L’OEIL ARE WHAT WE NEED!

  OR SO SAY LES GONCOURTS THOSE RAVENOUS

  IMAGINERS OF ‘MOVEMENTS’ ALL OF WHICH SIMPLY

  MOVED FROM GROUND LEVEL TO THE 2ND (OR

  AS EDMOND SAYS, THE AMERICAN 3RD) FLOOR.

  BACK TO PAINTING, ALLEGORICAL SCENES

  OFTEN ‘WORK’ BEST I WONDER WHAT THAT MEANS.

  THEN A WEE STILL-LIFE MAY AVOID DISGRACE

  BY FILLING WHOLLY SOME IDEAL SPACE

  OR BRUSHES FINE AS INTUITION THINK

  UP CRAGS & WATERFALLS OF CHINESE INK,

  YET WHAT TO SAY WHEN MICHELANGELO

  HIMSELF ADMITS (TO ICKLE ME) HE’D NO

  GRASP OF IDEAS! SMALL WONDER THAT MY TIN

  EAR TRUMPET NEVER BLEW A SINGLE TUNE

  You’d wanted to compose. THAT WAS MY DREAM

  AND IS. ANOTHER BOND WITH YOUR MM

  BUT IT REQUIRES MORE MIND THAN I HAD/HAVE

  DJ: That painting buried in his cave

  Was pure Idea, said Raphael. WHAT CAVE?

  SAID WHO? —As Wystan rushes in:

  MY DEARS

  WHAT CAN YR MOTHER SAY ABOUT THOSE LAB

  SESSIONS WITH GEORGE! Hard to make sense of them?

  HARD AS DIAMOND & AS BLAZINGLY CLEAR

  Always with Plato at your elbow, no?

  ROBERT?

  DRAT TARSOME TINY BOB MUST GO:

  TEA AT MISS AUSTEN’S (Exit.) Wystan, why’d

  You do that? You sent Robert from the room.

  RAPH’S CAVE & PLATO SUPERCLASSIFIED

  MY BOY NOT TO UNBALANCE THE CAREER

  AHEAD FOR RM HIS NEXT LIFE: THEY’RE SPARING

  NOTHING DJ: To make what of him?

  GUESS A composer? YES AND SUCH A ONE!

  HE DOESN’T KNOW YET BUT WE

  Now Maria

  Interrupts: ENFANTS THESE DAYS WE 4

  GATHER AT MEALS (GK SPATTERED WITH HORRORS,

  WYSTAN ALL GRITTY, MAMAN GRASS-STAINED) & IN

  GLIDES DEWYFACED RM NEAT AS A PIN,

  CHOCKFULL OF STARRY GOSSIP & WE ROAR !

  Isn’t it tomorrow we begin

  Our lessons? Are your papers ready? YIPES

  MAMAN GOES FIRST CAN’T DAWDLE WITH U TYPES

  AU RESERVOIR

  2 DAYS FROM NOW MY DEARS:

  USUAL TIME B4, COLD SHOWER & STRONG

  COFFEE DRESS OPTIONAL NO CIGS SO LONG

  Uni has trotted up to shut the gate

  When Robert hurtles past with an elate

  DO DREAMS COME TRUE? I’M CALLED TO MY ADORED

  MENDELSSOHN 4 HANDS AT HIS KEYBOARD!

  *

  The Middle Lessons: 1

  The schoolroom rearranged. No desks. The dais

  Flanked by chairs—an extra one for George—

  And draped by a motheaten mustiness

  At whose design one hesitates to guess.

  Over the picture hangs some faintest pall

  Of the ‘academy’—nothing one can place

  Until the Brothers WE WILL NOT SAY SPRAWL

  Assume positions out of the Davidr />
  ‘Coronation of Napoleon’—

  Imperial airs that threaten to forbid

  The eager give-and-take looked for by all.

  Mich.

  FRERES, MADAME, POETES, DOCTEUR, MAIN, BIEN VENUS!

  CE DEJEUNER A CINQ PLATS AU MENU.

  LE PREMIER SERA NOTRE DELICIEUSE MADAME

  QUI VA NOUS RACONTER CE QUE SON AME

  A DECOUVERT PENDANT SON VEGETAL SEJOUR.

  COMMENCE, MADAME, COMMENCE AVEC LE PREMIER JOUR.

  Rising in voluminous new leaf-

  Green doctor’s robes, her notes tucked in the sleeve,

  Maria with a feint of helplessness

  Steps forward to deliver her address:

  SIRE, VOUS AUTRES FILS DE DIEU, FAMEUX DOCTEUR,

  POETES ET MAIN TRES CHERS:

  (Oh dear, must it all be in our bad French?)

  Mich.

  DU CALME, MADAME.

  MM.

  THE FIRST DAY DAWNED IN THE LONG PROGRESSION OF

  DAYS AND NIGHTS. WIDELY SPACED POOLS OF STEAM

  LICKED THE COOLING LAND. THE VAST WATERS

  OF EARTH LAY STILL. THE TEMPESTS OF FIRE & WIND

  HAD PASSED, AND GOD’S BARE GLOBE LAY WAITING

  FOR HIS DESCENT. THE SUN, GOD’S OLDEST CHILD

  NAMED FOR OUR HELP MICHAEL, HAILED HIS SIRE

  IN THE GALACTIC PANTHEON: ‘COME, FATHER, COME!’

  THESE WERE THE FIRST SIGNALS SENT FROM EARTH.

  SURROUNDED BY SEEDBEARERS, HIS WELLWISHING

  BROTHER GODS, BIOLOGY APPROACHED:

  ‘MICHAEL, SUMMON MY EMMANUEL.’

  ‘I AM HERE, FATHER’ ‘TAKE THESE SEEDS AND RAIN THEM

  ONTO EVERY SURFACE.’ AND THIS EMMANUEL DID.

  SIRE, MY LORDS, CONFRERES, THAT IS MY TEXT.

  MAY I BEGIN?

  Mich.

  MADAME, NEXT WE SHALL CALL YOU POET. IT IS SO, & SWEETLY SAID.

  MM.

  THESE MYTHS THAT ANTECEDE ALL MYTH ARE COUCHED

  IN DAUNTING GENERALITIES. FOR MICHAEL/SUN

  READ: GENERATIVE FORCE. FOR GENERATIVE FORCE

  READ: RADIATION TO THE BILLIONTH POWER

  OF EXPLODING ATOMS. FOR EMMANUEL,

  H2O. FOR SEEDS, THAT COSMIC DUST

  LADEN WITH PARTICLES OF INERT MATTER.

  FOR GOD READ: GOD.

  LET ME NOW SAY MY SOUL

  SPEAKS FROM WITHIN THE GREENNESS OF A BLADE OF GRASS.

  I TAKE THIS HUMBLE STATION TO BEST IMAGINE

  HOW IT WAS, THAT FOURTH OR FIFTH DAWN, WHEN

 

‹ Prev