tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post4478875538101839001..comments2024-03-23T20:37:37.891-07:00Comments on First Known When Lost: Perspective, Part Eleven: "His Heart Is Tranquil, From It Springs A Dreamy Watchfulness Of Tranquil Things"Stephen Pentzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-40014198326823476582013-08-22T15:47:07.214-07:002013-08-22T15:47:07.214-07:00Anonymous: thank you very much for the kind words....Anonymous: thank you very much for the kind words. I understand what you mean about ambivalence. How one looks at it depends on the day.<br /><br />You're linking of Larkin and Cavafy is perfect: I think that both of them were absolutely terrified of old age and death. I agree about "Heads in the Women's Ward" and "The Old Fools," and (as you know) one could also add "The Building" and "Ambulances" to the list. I've always liked "An Old Man," despite how frightening it can be (again, depending on the day). I'm sure you are familiar with this by him as well:<br /><br />The Souls of Old Men<br /><br />Inside their worn, tattered bodies<br />sit the souls of old men.<br />How unhappy the poor things are<br />and how bored by the pathetic life they live.<br />How they tremble for fear of losing that life, and how much<br />they love it, those befuddled and contradictory souls,<br />sitting -- half comic and half tragic --<br />inside their old, threadbare skins.<br /><br />(Translation by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard.)<br /><br />Now that's horrific!<br /><br />Thank you very much for your thoughts, and for visiting.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-7170990919694952942013-08-22T15:34:27.812-07:002013-08-22T15:34:27.812-07:00Fred: it's funny that you raise that point: I&...Fred: it's funny that you raise that point: I've often thought that the "old fellow" described by MacCaig is MacCaig himself -- he was 78 when he wrote the poem, lived in Edinburgh, and was a frequenter of pubs. But whether my fancy is correct or not, I agree with your thought. I also agree that it is a great line.<br /><br />As always, it is a pleasure to hear from you. Thank you for stopping by.Stephen Pentzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14882220887712092005noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-23827970330473315522013-08-22T10:01:40.758-07:002013-08-22T10:01:40.758-07:00Perhaps old age does have its compensations. I fou...Perhaps old age does have its compensations. I found your words comforting and, as always, eloquent and thoughtful. <br /><br />I am ambivalent about old age. Some might say that old age is a hard go, too hard to be sanguine about, something, maybe, one courageously reconciles oneself to. Frankly, I don't know. Old men learn to fear an insistent certitude. <br /><br />The Larkin who says we should be kind to one another while there is time seems to think that "the time" ends before life. See, for instance, his poems "Heads in the Women's Ward" and "The Old Fools."<br /><br />Here's Cavafy's poem "An Old Man":<br /><br />At the noisy end of the café, head bent<br /> over the table, an old man sits alone,<br /> a newspaper in front of him.<br /> <br /> And in the miserable banality of old age<br /> he thinks how little he enjoyed the years<br /> when he had strength, eloquence, and looks.<br /> <br /> He knows he’s aged a lot: he sees it, feels it.<br /> Yet it seems he was young just yesterday.<br /> So brief an interval, so very brief.<br /> <br /> And he thinks of Prudence, how it fooled him,<br /> how he always believed—what madness—<br />that cheat who said: “Tomorrow. You have plenty of time.”<br /> <br />He remembers impulses bridled, the joy<br /> he sacrificed. Every chance he lost<br /> now mocks his senseless caution.<br /> <br /> But so much thinking, so much remembering<br /> makes the old man dizzy. He falls asleep,<br />his head resting on the café table. Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5010170380967519230.post-70364250044000691632013-08-22T09:12:43.950-07:002013-08-22T09:12:43.950-07:00"a whiff of grave clothes"
Could that &..."a whiff of grave clothes"<br /><br />Could that "whiff" be a symbol of the fears of the observer and does not emanate from the old man?<br /><br />A great line, regardless.Fredhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10233846613173866140noreply@blogger.com