The Changing Light at Sandover
Page 48
Maman— HUSH NOW & MIND YR P’S AND Q’S
But— IN MY DAY I FOOLED U? WATCH THE BLUR
CLEAR TO A NIGHT OF TWINKLING CLUES
Oh dear, we weren’t prepared for this. YOU WERE
*
SIRS? THEY SPOKE, MR ROBERT SAYS,
KINDLY OF MINE? (They? It will take a moment,
Full of Maria as we are, to bring
The Angels into focus.) Uni, they did;
But drew the line at your creature. OUR TALES TELL
THAT MERCY TEMPTED US TO REMAKE
A POOR THING WHO HAD LOST HIS LAND
You pitied him? So did we. THE CREATURE CREPT
INTO OUR MUTANT INTO OUR MINDS
As into man’s, yes, yes…THEY COME! THE LIGHT
—And Uni canters briskly out of sight.
The Last Lessons: 7
Gabr.
OBLIVION, THAT WAS OUR FATHER’S JUDGMENT.
Ascending lesson by lesson, as before,
Our schoolroom gains the Heaven of that sense.
Today’s Light is all tragic evidence
And Nature in Her grief, supremely fair.
COME BROTHERS, TWIN LORDS, TELL US OF HOW YOU OBEYD.
Raph.
WHEN UPON MY SURFACE LIKE A HOT IRON A BLANK FLAT PRESSURE FLARED I RUSHED
& KNELT BY OUR FATHER. ‘RAPHAEL, THEY ARE GONE.’
I KNEW THE CHERISHED FIRST DESIGN, THE LUCKLESS FRUIT OF AN IDEA PLANTED IN OUR FATHER’S MIND DURING THAT WAIT IN HIS GALACTIC HOME,
KNEW THE AGONY OF A WORK DESPOILED, THE COST OF DREAMS, ‘A STOP TO DREAM’
FOR ALL HAD COME TO NOTHING.
‘HELP ME FORGET. TAKE ON YOUR SECOND CHORE. BURY THEM.’
I SUMMONED MY FORCES, FOUGHT THIS SUCKING & THIS LACK. AND KNELT, TOO, AT HER SIDE:
‘YES, HERE, A WREATH OF GREEN STRONGER THAN ANY BLACK,
TAKE IT, LAY IT ON THEIR BLASTED GRAVE.’
SETTING TO WORK WE SLOWLY FORCED THE EMPTINESS DOWN. WE FILLED ITS SPACE WITH A FERTILE PLAIN
AND THE LUCKLESS FIRSTBORN LAY UNDER THIS BLOOMING OBLIVION. SO IT CAME TO PASS,
THE END OF HIM WHO HELD A FATEFUL SPARK,
HIS END AND HIS LOSS TO OUR FATHER. BROTHER SEA?
Emm.
NEXT I WAS CALLED.
‘EMMANUEL, THIS MY SECOND CREATURE WILL END AS BADLY AS MY FIRST. HIS DESTRUCTION EMBITTERS ME. HELP ME FORGET.’
GABRIEL ROSE UP MIGHTILY, BURNING THE FALSE SKY.
THE WINDS AROSE AND THE WHIRLING GLOBE CAST IT ALL OFF, LIKE AN ANIMAL SHAKING ITSELF DRY.
MY TURN CAME. I DREW IN, DREW IN ALL THE FLOATING BLASTED MOLECULES OF HYDROGEN & OXYGEN, AND MY WATERS
SWEPT OVER THAT POOR CREATURE. I TOO THEN KNELT BY HER SIDE:
‘YES, TAKE THESE SEEDS AND SCATTER THEM,
MAKE A FEW GREEN BUOYS TO MARK THE GRAVE’
AND THE ATLANTIC STILL DRIFTS WITH A SEA OF GRASS KNIT OVER THAT SUCKING LOSS.
WE, LORD GOD, MY TWIN AND I, WE WITH YOUR STAR-TWIN, HEARD YOUR JUDGMENT OF THESE TWIN CREATURES.
WE OBEYED. AND STILL, GOD, HOLD IT BACK.
Gabr.
IT?
MICHAEL, LIGHT.
The Angel smiles. Idea’s jeunesse dorée
Dawns like an unhoped-for holiday.
I FEEL FORGIVE ME, MAJESTY: I THINK
OUR MORTALS HAVE A HOST OF QUESTIONS OUR CLASSROOM HAS NOT CAST INTO OBLIVION,
& WHICH AS OUR SENIOR POET SAYS MUST BE CLEARED AWAY.
IT SEEMS THIS NEW BREED OF POETS, NOT LIKE DEAR HOMER’S KIND SQUATTING BY THE FARMER’S FIRE BREATHING WHATEVER SMOKE IN,
FEEDS ON FACT, TWIN. THEY WISH TO GREENLY CLOTHE IT THIS WAY OR THAT, ACCORDING TO THEIR OWN JUDGMENT.
SO MICHAEL, WE TWINS, LET US NEXT DISARM
THEIR DOUBT YET BRING THEM SAFE AWAY FROM HARM.
Exeunt.
TOSSED US A NOD ENFANTS & FILED OUT
GK & RM TRAILING LIKE REPORTERS.
WYSTAN & I STILL IN THE JURY BOX
We’ve thought of several questions. Maman, please,
About your cobalt rays? And Socrates?
I THINK THAT STICKLER GABRIEL HIMSELF
MEANS TO EXPLAIN. MY ALAS PERSONAL LIFE
IS BOUND UP IN THESE ANSWERS. LATER IF
GABR HAS WIPED THE BLACKBOARD CARELESSLY
WE’LL TRY TO TIDY UP THOSE TRAILING SCRAWLS,
HASTILY CROSSED T’S, STARLIKE DOTS OF EYES.
LET 8 PASS, THEN BEFORE MY ‘COMING OUT’
FETE AT 9 WE CHAPS WILL HAVE A JAW.
THEN CLOUDS WILL PART & EVEN MAMAN NOT BE
ALLOWED TO WATCH. U TWO WILL HEAR OR SEE
See…It? I MAY KNOW MORE TOMORROW: THOSE
LITTLE TETE A TETES WE DAUGHTERS HAVE
WITH NERVOUS MOTHERS (‘NOW DEAR, IF SOME BOY
ETC’) ON EVES OF THE MASKED BALL!
AU REVOIR CHERS ENFANTS
THE SIMPLE JOY
UPON HER FACE! MY DEARS U NOW KNOW ALL
Brilliant deception, Wystan. But her tone,
Never imitable, overnight has grown
Evanescent, as if soon to slip
Where sunlight trembles on the torrent’s lip,
Lost in the nearness of the waterfall.
SO TRUE THE MORTAL SOUL AT LAST WORN THIN
DISCARDED FROM A SPANKING NEW PINK SKIN!
YET NOTHING LOST: THESE ENERGIES SURVIVE
INTACT Mohammed, though, was of the Five
And look at him—a swaggering dimestore djinn!
TIME RUNNING SHORT DEAR BOYS U DID NOT SEE
THE ‘REAL’ MOHAMMED BUT A PARODY
CONCEIVED BY GABR & GLEEFULLY REHEARSED
OF ATTITUDES EMBODIED BY HIS FAITHFUL.
MUSTN’T BE GREEDY AFTER BEING SHOWN
PLATO ‘IN DEPTH’ LEAVE WELL ENOUGH ALONE
DARE I WHILE WE’RE AT IT VIOLATE
A SECRET OF THE CONFESSIONAL? MY OWN FIRST
TREMBLING QUESTION PUT TO PLATO WAS:
SOCRATES? Who was he? KNOWN THRUOUT ATHENS
FOR ‘NATURAL WIT’ BUT SEMILITERATE,
AS, OH, TO MILTON THE DROWNED LYCIDAS,
SO SOC TO PLATO SPRINGBOARD OR SCAPEGOAT
OR MINE DETECTOR? HIS WHOLE LIFE & DOOM
FURNISHED THE GOLDEN SCRIBE WITH ‘LIVING ROOM’
DJ (under his breath): A thankless task.
I CAN’T AGREE MY DEAR. THE SOCRATIC MASK
BECAME THE FACE OF THE GOAT GOD SILENUS
WINEBAG FLUTEINVENTING COUNTERPART
TO MICH/APOLLO IN THE DAWN OF ART
To be flayed by him like Marsyas? OF COURSE
BUT WHAT WERE SKINS TO SUCH A MYTHIC FORCE!
*
SIRS THEY ALL COME! WE FIND THIS FIELD
VAST & RISING AM I STILL YR UNICE?
THE GLOW AH GOD —Retreating behind &,
For we have reached the Heaven of Command.
The Last Lessons: 8
Gabr.
ALL, ALL ASSEMBLED JUST AS NEEDS BE FOR SUCH A GRIND OF WORK.
GOD, STAR TWIN MOTHER, BROTHERS, MORTALS, SISTER,
Maria back at her old desk; no fuss—
Nothing having “happened” but to us.
LET US CLEAR THE BOARDS. FIRST, YOUNG POET, FIND A SEPARATE BLANK PAGE. PUT IT IN EASY REACH.
When I return the blackboards are erased.
WE BEGIN.
GOD CREATED HIS THIRD CHILD & GAVE THE COMMAND: LET IT SURVIVE AND LET THERE BE NO ACCIDENT,
FOR I CAN NO LO
NGER ABIDE SUCH PAIN. WE OBEYD.
THE SCRIBES, MUCH AS GOD, NOW COMMAND: OUR V WORK, LET IT SURVIVE. LET NO ACCIDENT PAIN IT, OR ITS READER TO DISBELIEF.
AND WE OBEY. WE YOUR FAITHFUL ELEMENTS, YOUR TEACHERS, YOUR SENSES, NOW TRY
IN THIS ULTIMATE COMMANDING MOMENT TO HELP YOU MAKE SENSE OF ‘IT’.
NOW SCRIBE, FOR ONE OF THOSE BELOVED DESIGNS SO INDULGED IN BY OUR ESTEEMD (& HIDDEN) HAND.
A stir—will Yeats say something? All look round
As from DJ’s hand comes a muffled sound:
WBY.
MY LORDS, SO IT CAME TO ME IN AN AGE
WHEN CHARTS AND FORMULAS WERE ALL THE RAGE.
WAS I THEN WRONG, WITH DNA UNKNOWN,
TO BUILD MY WINDING STAIR OF MOONSTRUCK STONE?
Nat.
CALM, PROUD POET, WE SHALL SEE
HOW GREAT OR SMALL THIS MYSTERY.
Garb.
Mich.
WHY TWIN, ME, LIGHT!
DEAR RAPHAEL, YOU SUPPORT HIM, SEE, HE
STRETCHES TOWARD REASON & LIGHT.
Raph.
AND MICHAEL, MY SUPPORT IS ALSO A FORM OF RESISTANCE.
Mich.
TRUE.
LAZY LAPPING EMMANUEL, YOU?
Emm.
Gabr.
POET, YOU WISELY MADE US STAND ON RISING GROUND, FOR BENEATH US, MORTALS, SHADES AND GODS, IS THE CAPPD VOLCANO.
‘IT’ : CHILD’S PLAY? OR A DEADLY GAME
Fire fighting itself—fire its own screen—
Fades on a yearning whisper to our Queen:
‘LEAVE THE DOOR OPEN, MOTHER WE CANNOT SLEEP IN SUCH DARK’
Quoting whom? The child he’d never been
When the old schoolroom was a nursery still?
Her face is radiant, unreadable.
Gabriel’s done. He motions to his Twin.
Mich.
BROTHER, THEY KNEW.
THIS ENIGMA, THIS IT, THIS EVENLY BALANCED X, THIS ANTIMATTER & ITS MONITOR GOD
MATCHING WITS WITH HIS RIVAL TO SEIZE THE DAY AND MAKE OF US A CIPHER NIGHT, AN O.
THEY, EACH MAN, EACH GENERATION OF MEN, KNEW, HAVE ALWAYS KNOWN
AND FOUGHT BACK WITH THEIR OLD RELIGIONS’ CLASPED HANDS (OR FINGERS CROSSED).
THEY KNEW. NOW, NOW HOWEVER
ACCIDENTS HAVE BEGUN. LIKE THE FIRST FAINT TWIRLS OF SMOKE WE SEE ALL THE OLD SIGNALS:
CLOUDY AIR, A SWARMING AS IF IN FRANTIC HASTE AGAINST THE GREAT THINNING TO COME,
THOSE WHIFFS OF THE MONITOR’S BREATH, THE SHADOW WHICH TRAILED OUR FATHER FROM THE HALLS OF HIS BROTHERS,
THE JUDAS, THE CAIN, THE GREAT OPPOSING FORCE TO MATTER ITSELF,
THE CHALLENGE TO THE MAGICIAN’S ACT, THE RAGE TO PROVE IT WAS, IS, ALL DONE BY MIRRORS.
NOW WE KNOW HIM: IT. YET NOT OUR ENEMY, NOT AS EASY AS THAT.
IN MAN’S LIFE IT IS THE DULLWITTED, THE MOB, THE IDIOT IN POWER, THE PURELY BLANK OF MIND.
THESE HAVE HEARD HIS WHISPER, WE BY NECESSITY HAVING FILLED A BILLION WOMBS WITH WHAT WE HAD AT HAND.
THE MONITOR IS THE REFLEXION, THE UNDOER TO DOING.
WE LEAP ABOUT MAKING NEW DEVICES, PUTTING NATURE’S WAX TO THE LEAKY CAP, HOLDING HIM BACK
WHILE KEEPING AN EYE ON MAN, GOD’S DARLING CHILD
WHO WANTS, ALL CHILDREN WANT, TO IMITATE THE FATHER.
NOW POETS, PESKY QUESTIONERS, COMMAND!
The Question Period
Out comes the list we nearly didn’t make.
The more we thought, the more (THEY KNEW) we knew
Each answer in our bones. Still, best go through
The motions for our glorious teachers’ sake.
Has it developed from experience,
This infraradiant, uncanny knowing?
Does it belong to Gabriel’s darkroom, glowing
Far from Michael’s light-meter and lens?
See how the knowing mind defeats itself:
We could have asked them to hold forth upon
Lofty enigmas like the Pantheon.
Instead we’re held by remnants on a shelf
At our eye level. Well, one more chance missed
—Or one last revelation to resist.
DJ.
It’s probably trivial, but could we take up
Last summer’s question of the UFO’s?
Gabr.
THEY ARE OURS. NOT ‘SAUCERS’, LIGHT DISCS WHICH HAVE AN INWARD PULL, INSUBSTANTIAL:
MICHAEL’S TEASPOONS TESTING THE SOUPY ATMOSPHERE.
JM.
I can’t help wondering why Nature chose
The moon—considering its atomic make-up?
Gabr.
THREE OF HER FOUR WERE WIPED OUT. THIS ONE ACCUMULATING ALL THAT PRECIOUS WASTE
GREW LARGE ENOUGH TO TILT & SWAY THE EARTH.
Nat.
CHILDREN, I AM MOST FOND OF TIDES. LET ME HAVE ONE JEWEL. I HAVE EARNED IT.
JM.
Maria, I remember now, had four
Stars from the beginning in her hair.
MM.
ONE OF THOSE AMUSING ‘FILLE ET MERE’
MATCHED OUTFITS HIGH & LOW ALIKE ONCE WORE
DJ.
Has God no other name? Biology seems
So sort of—
WHA.
HUSH MY BOY (IN PRIVACY
I’VE HEARD THEM SPEAK OF ‘ABBA’ SOUNDS TO ME
LIKE ONE OF JM’S FAVORITE RHYME SCHEMES)
DJ.
A question Mirabell failed to clear up:
With all your lightning methods to choose from
Why this relatively cumbersome
Apparatus of the Board and cup?
Mich.
IT IS A LONG AMAZING & UNPRECEDENTED WAY FROM YOU TO US.
WE TRIED DREAMS. THEY CAME TO JM LIKE DOORBELLS, EXPECTATION BUT NO GUEST.
WE TRIED ‘INSPIRATION’. IT WAS MUFFLED BY SCREECHING TIRES, KISSES AND DRUNKEN SONG.
SO SANDOVER: PARCHED OBLONG FIELD, 2 OLD ZEN MONKS (DJ & WBY) RAKING DESIGN AFTER DESIGN, STRUGGLING FOR THE SENSE OF IT
WHILE THE ABBOT-SCRIBE SQUINTING MADE OUT WAVES, PEAKS, DRAGONS, RAINCLOUDS, EAVES OF GLASS. NEXT?
JM.
The old one I keep asking, about scale:
Microscopic particles on one hand,
And on the other, Majesties, your Grand
Design outspiraling past all detail—;
When we suppose that history’s great worm
Turns and turns as it does because of twin
Forces balanced and alert within
Any least atom, are we getting warm?
Gabr.
O FATHER, TWIN STAR, BROTHERS, SISTER, HEAR THEM: THEY HAVE MADE SENSE OF IT.
DID NOT OUR DEAR ONE REPORT ‘AND WHAT A FISH!’ (YOU, GOOD YEATS, WERE THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY)
NOW MORE ?S
DJ.
We need to know, how did Maria come
Through unscathed? What helped her to survive?
JM.
Haven’t you understood—she’s of the Five?
DJ.
Are they more powerful than radium?
Gabr.
COME, SISTER & SCIENTIST, SPEAK.
MM.
ENFANTS, NO MOTHER HIGH OR LOW ENJOYS
DULLING HER DARLINGS WITH ‘THE FACTS OF LIFE’.
STORKS! SANTA! COME PLAY FATHER, GEORGIE LUV,
YOU KNOW ABOUT RADIATION. TELL OUR BOYS.
GK.
DAVE, JIMMY, NO NOT MARIA. I
ALONE
SUFFERED THE MERCIFULLY LIMITED
‘SILENCING’. THAT PART OF ME WENT DEAD
TO HEAVEN’S ALL-REVEALING ORGANON.
JM.
Your high connections spared you—
GK.
MUCH. UNFIT
FOR MAN THUS FAR, MY GENETIC V WORK STAYS
HERE IN THIS LAB: TOP SECRET & THE RAYS
HAVE STILLED MY LONGING TO GET ON WITH IT.
MM.
I KNEW HOW I WOULD ‘DIE’ SO DID GK WE BOTH
WERE GIVEN MEANS TO PUT OUR SOULS BEYOND
THE RAYS. AS WITH OLD CLOTHES OF WHICH ONE’S FOND
ONE DOESN’T SIMPLY LEAVE THEM TO THE MOTH.
GK.
YOUR GRIEF & HORROR OF THE RAYS (ALTHO
WE ESCAPED) REMAINS WITH YOU TO FEEL
FOR ALL CREATION: ‘POSO AKOMA’ THE REAL
MOTTO OF YR POEM MAKE IT GLOW!
JM.
When Dante entered the Bureaucracy
—You know, I fancy, why I’m asking this—
Was it allowed him by the Grand Design
Ever again to look on Beatrice?
MM.
MY JEUNE FILLE EN FLEURS EFFECT? MAIS OUI
DJ.
You are a Muse!
MM.
ENFANT I AM ALL NINE
A loving gesture bids Maria stand.
The hitherto elusive family
Likeness is pronounced. More than can be
Easily contained streams from our Hand.
MM.
NOW, NOW. YET GOD IS PLEASED BY HAPPY TEARS.
HIS STAR TWIN (YES MAJESTY, I MUST SAY IT)
BRIDLES WITH PRIDE. WE NEXT DON GLAD ATTIRE
Gabr.
WAIT, ARE THEY STILL COMMANDING ANSWERS?
JM.
(Who has a final question but no words
To utter it.) That’s all. We thank you, Lords.
Gabr.
SENIOR POET?
WHA.
A NEW LIBRETTO HAS BEEN SET
BY OUR COMPOSER. FOR TOMORROW’S FETE