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Medium 9780874217209

Roses on the Ceiling

Idris Anderson Utah State University Press ePub


The saint, before he is a saint, is comfortably at work in a room

like one of Dürer’s own in his fine house in Nuremberg.

Sun streams through windows. It’s warm. The dozy lion blinks.

Jerome is pouring out his eyes on a holy text that is brittle,

that is already crumbling into dust, already burning.

His dry pen scratches down the cold meaning of a word

he’s just translated. The Latin is so good and clean it shines

a halo around his head. What he wants is not to copy meaning

but explain. He’d rather be writing marginalia, but he won’t.

All the marks he makes have a meaning like every object

in his room, his books, slippers, cushions, scissors—

all cut finely in the plate like iron filings drawn

into place by those meticulous fingers. He will stay

until his work is done. His dog curls up asleep.

How much of this is true? None of the light

through the windows, nor the windows (from early

Renaissance Italy), nor the fine wood timbers of the ceiling,

the carefully cut lines of new theories of perspective.

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Medium 9781847770684

Elegy in Spring

Elizabeth Jennings Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF

The sweet and melancholy moments when the gods

Ape our behaviour and step from their sacred groves

Into towns of turmoil, ‘Where is grief to be lost?’ you ask

‘Or at least turned into useful fables, the kind

Your children in the fever of first love

Will turn to and appropriate as models?’

How kind and simple seem those first emotions,

Untouched by all the posturing of irony,

Held in the eye and clear before the day,

Standing in their own sufficiency.

For the rest there is only the dignity of the present

Sliding away into the bookish past

While we eye the future through dazzling sunsets or starlight,

Our loss neither belittled nor magnified

But seen in its true form terribly frightened or bewildered,

While our children play the game of first betrayal,

Sure of the ease and luxury of first love

With time’s finger only sketching the sun’s behaviour.

They were ourselves once long ago, so how

Could we indeed bear to disillusion them?

Elegy in Spring

Even in Spring I see an elegy,

A long recall, a cherishing the past.

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Medium 9781847770684

Elegy for Aldous Huxley

Elizabeth Jennings Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF

Elegy for Aldous Huxley

Words had been relegated long ago.

A young man’s cleverness was put aside.

You thought you could not feel but feared to show

In speech the pities which you thought collide

And introvert us so.

How well you knew yourself. You put away

The novels, verses, stories where the ‘I’

Dominates, makes us masochists. Today

You are the peaks you would not dare to try,

Words you refused to say.

Change of Plan

Instead of painted avenues

Of light, I let that painter play

With all the air about the trees,

And, by good luck, this Winter day

For six hours was at ease

With sun. Gold trickled slowly first,

Then bled along the roofs and took

Charge of the branches. Blossom burst

Across the sky and on my book.

So Turner might have thrust

His later hand along this air,

This altered day when plans were changed,

When any moment tears were near.

Yet as I walked the light arranged

His brush-strokes everywhere.

And his intense search for the pure,

For the acute, the almost, yes

Beyond what any eye can bear

Put fingers on my face to press

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Medium 9781847770684


Elizabeth Jennings Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF
Medium 9781847770684


Elizabeth Jennings Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF


If there are spirits, then they breathe in birds

Tossed by the winds, agile in the frost.

Though the world falls down like a house of cards,

Spirits will soar and in birds put their trust

Who rely on us to feed them as we must

In lengthy Winters like the last; it is

Our happy task to keep these fliers going,

To give them nuts and crumbs. When it is snowing

They huddle in the evergreens and press

Their lean, bright breasts upon that lastingness.

But if there are, say, angels, or the Greek

Nymphs, and though it is a fancy to

Speculate, it’s thus we like to speak.

Who could believe a nearly dead thing flew

As cold blackbirds so frequently will do?

These are approximations but they touch

As near as men can through the boundaries

Rounding our senses’ exploration. Much

Is still mysterious, but man probes and tries

To halt a hope, a fragment where it lies,

A vestige of his dreams. If he lets go

Of it he cannot live. Our dreams express

Acts we daren’t do. But let mankind be slow

To lose the impulse of their images.

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Medium 9781847770684

A Moment of Childhood

Elizabeth Jennings Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF

More Than Spring

Spring is a secular sacrament. Today

It healed us as we walked the golden streets.

The leafless trees threw handfuls of birds to

The shafts of sun. Winter, for sure, retreats

But goes off with a laggard look resenting

Sequences of light. In spite of cold

We toss our mufflers off, we are acquainting

Ourselves with Spring and all its spendthrift gold.

The snowdrop pushes slowly up. Why do

Tears hurt? It is for more than Spring they come.

We’re back with Eden-longings, want to go

Into Paradise, that fabled home.

A hawk streaks down to kill a mouse and show

What dark we move to, what dark we come from.

A Moment of Childhood

Lizards ran over my palm. I had no fear.

Four or five I was and I knew the bounds

Of my world – the high, white nursery with its air

A mixture of honey and soap. Beneath were grounds

Full of red currant bushes and apple trees

And loganberries and rockeries with plants

Seething over white pebbles. I could please

Myself for hours then. What is it that enchants

Me now, as I fondle a memory of those

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Medium 9781574412802


Amy M. Clark University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9781574415049

The Devil Watches the New Idol Tryouts

Matt Miller University of North Texas Press PDF

The Devil Watches the New Idol Tryouts

The daylong auditions were held in one of the last abandoned shipyard warehouses during the mean middle of winter and were judged by a panel of eight, mostly men—

Ivy MBA-looking types in dark suits and leather sandals. Arriving together on one bus, some of the older gods were there to try out, bringing with them their quivers of lightning, goatskin drums and pipes, masks and feathers, lamps, mistletoe, flaming swords and all kinds of crosses. Sadly, some of them had gotten hair plugs or wore girdles to hold back great golden bellies and the amazed look on their faces betrayed a conspiracy of Botox injections. They all got equal time. Most of them nailed their lines but none of them earned even the hope of a call back.

They never really had a shot. Every part to be cast called for someone, well, younger, sleeker, with more soft lights and switches, gods you plugged into your skin, that came with GPS and their own soundtracks, gods that you could stick in a vein or swallow like a baby stone, that were user friendly, that had bundled add-ons and cheap accessories for quick customization.

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Medium 9781574415933

Transnationalizing Porter’s Germans in Stanley Kramer’s Ship of Fools (1965)

Edited by Thomas Austenfeld UNT Press ePub

Transnationalizing Porter’s Germans in Stanley Kramer’s Ship of Fools (1965)

Anne-Marie Scholz

In the mid-twentieth century and just prior to the onset of mass commercial air travel, the transatlantic voyage provided novelists and filmmakers with a potent metaphor to gauge the relationship between tourism, travel, and the meaning and significance of "transnational" forms of interaction and transformation. An intriguing example of such an effort is the Jewish-American filmmaker Stanley Kramer’s 1965 adaptation of Katherine Anne Porter’s 1962 novel Ship of Fools. In her novel, Porter transformed the medieval German satire Das Narrenschiff into a modern narrative about transatlantic travel. Her version tells the story of a group of German, Spanish, and American as well as Swiss, Cuban, and Mexican passengers en route on the passenger ship Vera from Veracruz, Mexico, to Bremerhaven, Germany. It is set in the historically significant period of the early 1930s, when the Nazis were first coming into power. This essay will evaluate the ways that the metaphor of transnational travel was used to examine the meanings of "Germanness" in this period. It will also consider how these American depictions were received by German reviewers and critics in both West and East Germany.1

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Medium 9781847770974

17 Molecule is confirmed alive by a day-person

Gallas, John Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF
Medium 9781847776259

6: Epilogue (1685)

Adlard, John Carcanet Press Ltd. ePub


Sure there has not lived in many ages (if ever) so extraordinary, and, I think I may add, so useful a person as most Englishmen know my Lord to have been, whether we consider the constant good sense and the agreeable mirth of his ordinary conversation or the vast reach and compass of his invention and the wonderful depths of his retired thoughts, the uncommon graces of his fashion or the inimitable turns of his wit, the becoming gentleness, the bewitching softness of his civility or the force and fitness of his satire; for as he was both the delight and the wonder of men, the love and the dotage of women, so he was a continual curb to impertinence and the public censor of folly. Never did man stay in his company unentertained or leave it uninstructed; never was his understanding biassed or his pleasantness forced; never did he laugh in the wrong place or prostitute his sense to serve his luxury; never did he stab into the wounds of fallen virtue, with a base and cowardly insult, or smooth the face of prosperous villainy with the paint and washes of a mercenary wit; never did he spare a fop for being rich or flatter a knave for being great. As most men had an ambition (thinking it an indisputable title to wit) to be in the number of his friends, so few were his enemies, but such as did not know him or such as hated him for what others loved him, and never did he go among strangers but he gained admirers, if not friends, and commonly of such who had been before prejudiced against him. Never was his talk thought too much or his visit too long….

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Medium 9781906188139

Lines on a Da Vinci Skull

Grovier, Kelly Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF
Medium 9781847770684

A Realisation

Elizabeth Jennings Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF

A Realisation

It is only today that I

Have suddenly thought that I have no one who

Cares for me totally,

No one to whom I come first. There are a few

Who think of me, certainly,

But there is no longer one

To whom I am the world, the centre, the heart,

The headstrong noonday sun,

And of course I too love many who play a part

In my universe, but gone

Are the one or two I’ve known

With whom I broke the Galilean claim.

Who were the suns which spun

About my earth. Yes, I have none to name

For whom I’m the only one.

A Coffee House

A little boy of twenty months. He fits

Exactly into space and floor.

He runs a few yards as his mother sits

Talking but she’s soon after him. What’s more

She wears an anxious frown. He’s full of glee

Not knowing how we all

Share in watching over him while he

Laughs loudly. He knows he will not fall

Although he hasn’t moved about for long –

Fair hair, a smile of grace.

If he knew one he’d sing a morning call

But there is worry on each watching face

For this year one horrific murder was

Done by two boys of ten.

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Medium 9781574414479

Four Planes of Experience

Gibson Fay-LeBlanc University of North Texas Press PDF
Medium 9781847772268

‘Warning! Cliff Edge! Danger!!’

Ward, David C. Carcanet Press Ltd. PDF

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