Thursday, March 29, 2012

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan,


KUBLA KHAN
 
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And here were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:

And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise


 Upon concluding this piece Samuel Taylor Coleridge, I felt the urge to research the drug opium. This drug, a mighty one it is, includes the following side effect: overwhelming sense of euphoria, sense of emotional detachment, absence of pain and stress, sleepiness, inability to concentrate, impaired vision, and often death. Plus the duration of the drug is around 4-5 hours. What insipred me to delve into such a topic was only after my realization that Coleridge was under the influence of opium just prior to writing this piece. Overall this poem, in my own interpretation, was a story of love and betrayal. I imagine a peaceful nirvana-like environment, resembling that of Eden, and was torn apart by jowls of the Earth which hurled them about and threw them upon the altar of the God's. It was then the peace had escaped them and thought it never to return. But when all hopes were lost their paradise was returned toiled and defeated. The warning then was made clear by the Gods in 2 lines: For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise. 
Now, back to opium. The reason I had to look into it further was because of the images that Coleridge described.  One of my favorites was, "Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean." because of the seemingly improbable dimensions and personification of nature.  He creates life in his words, makes them move and entrance my mind. So in conclusion, drugs like opium can be taken to enhance your sense of reality and paint images in your minds eye (that can be later written down and studied).

Monday, March 26, 2012

Kane's Wisdom

"The gods".
What could come of such a construction of two words as it has in our modern world? These inquiries lie deep-seeded in all of our minds. Where did we come from? Why are we here? Is there a God?
After reading the first chapter of Sean Kane's "Wisdom of the Mythtellers", I was considerably more aware of my surroundings. The very thought of pre-literate history baffled me to the point of frustration. What are thoughts? Sounds, vibrations, emotions, sensations? The answers to my questions seemed more and more apparent while reading the first chapter. How did the story-telling begin?

"..forms that exist only in the tenuous moment of their actual performance, and forms that take their inspiration, not from texts, temples or other monuments at the center of human effort, but from the life of nature surrounding it."(Kane 33)

This passage screams to me, "Before we could talk to each other, the earth taught us how." This may seem to end my frustrations at once. But nay I was far from an answer, as many of us are. But underneath all of this lies a pattern that lattices our existence. The pattern the perpetuates the cycle of life. This form is embodied by the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker in the Haida traditional 'myth' of the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker. The beating of his beak on the tree that sends the vibrations seem to jolt the Old Man into a transference of energy. This energy is moving through us at all times, vibrating and shifting, organizing and holding the very cells we consist of in time and space. The symbiotic relationship seems to evoke the theme of oneness and spiritual coexistence.

It seems nature encompasses all that we feel to be god like, according to Kane. Even though the term is used very loosely and to no ends at all, however the belief that they may be of god-like resonance cannot be dis-proven. The language of nature is noticeably more evident of it's incredible structure and symbiotic nature. Though we may not see or hear it, it surrounds us constantly. The seasons of our planet seemingly communicate with the plants and animals, and this can be observed by simply watching a tree lose its leaves, or a polar bear create it's den. ITS ALL AROUND US.