December 14, 2015 at 1:35 pm (Albrecht Durer, Alexander the Great, Amira Willighagen, Arabella Wain, Aristotle, Artur Rimbaud, Australian Aborigines, C.S.Lewis, Carl Sagan, Carvaggio, Charlotte Bronte, Christopher Woodman, Cosmology, Courbet, D.H.Lawrence, Dante, Dawn potter, Dod Procter, Edna St Vincent Millay, Emily Dickinson, F.R.Leavis, Foetry, Galileo Galilei, God Particle, Goethe, Hawthorne, Heloise, Jean Valentine, Karen Hollingsworth, Leo Tolstoy, Lewis Caroll, Lillie Rose, Lucas Cranach, Mantegna, Pablo Neruda, Paul Gauguin, Peter Abelard, Petrarch, Philip Larkin, Piero de la Francesca, Raewyn Alexander, Rene Magriitte, Schopenhauer, Simone Weil, Sir Stanley Spenser, Stanley Kunitz, Susan Gilbert, T.S.Eliot, The Big Bang, W.F.Kammann, William Blake, William Butler Yeats)
At the very end of his life, Andrea Mantegna inscribed the answer to the question on the tree in this delicate cameo-painting of Delilah snipping away at Samson’s hair — as if the fountain next to the tree weren’t clarification enough.
If it’s hard to read the words on the tree, you can click on the tree itself to read them more easily — and if that’s still not enough you can click yet again on the bigger picture. Then it’s a piece of cake — that is, the riddle’s a piece of cake, not the beautiful, dignified, introspective young woman trimming the hair of her grizzled, old, pumped-up and psyched-out lover, the act that reduces all men to the divine fools they are destined to be. Because the Divine Fool is the true message of the Samson story, it seems to me, that is if you read the details of the story very carefully — or, alternatively, if you carefully and exhaustively read your own life, or even read me if you know where to look — which is why I am writing what follows, to find out.
I’m going to leave some space on that now, for reflection.
[ADDED A WEEK LATER]
My reflections on Mantegna’s dictum, foemina diabolo tribus assibus est mala peior, are developed day by day in the Comments below, and if you are interested in such things I hope you will be able to read them with as much hope for an answer as I posted them. On the other hand, if you’re impatient you can skip ahead to a specific discussion of HOW BAD IS THE DEVIL IN THE END. But fasten your seat belts as you scroll down, because jumping ahead is going to make for a very fast ride!
And those of you who start at the beginning, be warned as well: the discussion that follows thrives on hair-pins and other sticky corners, and very often paints itself into untenable places as well — I do hope you’ll be charitable and forgive me for all the dead-ends. I’m an Old Father William, and all I can tell you is that this is how it goes. Indeed, that’s part of the riddle of knowing where you are in the space you inhabit, and it doesn’t much matter whether it’s on earth, in space, buried in your own person or in some other idea or dimension, or perhaps even suited up in a New Age space-vehicle transitting infinity to arrive where you actually are, like in Carl Sagan’s Contact.
Wrapped up in your own cocoon like Eve, in other words, even if you’re a man and not yet ready to be that beautiful, powerful, and fey. Or a snake with your own tail in your mouth like Satan in the Garden of Eden — indeed, you may even be impatient enough to want to go straight to the discussion for men and women who are no longer inhabitants of the Garden of Eden but would like to know what really happened back then.
……….1.) CLICK HERE TO START AT THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
Or if, like most of my friends, you’re more interested in my own demise as a soi-disant angel and poet yet again you can begin at that end:
……….2.) CLICK HERE FOR THE END OF WHAT WAS ACHIEVED IN THIS THREAD.
Or if you’re really impatient and just want to know what happens at the various ends:
……….3.) CLICK HERE FOR THE SECOND TO LAST POSTSCRIPT.
And finally, if you don’t want to begin at any end but just keep on fooling around like Old Father William:
……….4.) CLICK ON THE END OF HIS NOSE TO SEE HOW EVERYTHING GOES.
Chiang Mai, March 3rd, 2016
THIS THREAD IS CONTINUED IN THE COMMENTS THAT FOLLOW.
February 10, 2014 at 3:01 pm ("Directive", "Works & Days", "Make it new", Bordando el Manto Terrestre, Carl Phillips, Carl Sagan, Cern, Chogyam Trungpa, Christopher Woodman, Cosmology, Cowpattyhammer, Dawn potter, Emily Dickinson, Foetry, Galileo, God Particle, Leonardo da Vinci, Mozart, Padmasambhava, Remedios Varo, Stanley Kunitz, Surrealism, T.S.Eliot, The Red Wheelbarrow, W.F.Kammann, William Carlos Williams)
“Bordando el Manto Terrestre” [ Embroidering the Earth’s Mantle ] (1961) by Remedios Varo.
The Cowpattyhammer management apologizes for having closed “Make It New!” so abruptly.
One of the casualties was that we never got a chance to look at this painting by the Spanish-Mexican painter and anarchist, Remedios Varo. The title means “Embroidering the Earth’s Mantle,” and the imagery is probably the closest we got to the “secret” that was such an important part of the discussion. My own feeling is that with the exception of the sculpture of the tall Aborigine woman and her daughter that introduced the previous thread, this extraordinary painting was probably the most relevant.
You can click here to look at the painting in more detail. Once you have moved in, the definition of the graphic is quite high so you can zoom in as much as you like. Indeed, I’d be very interested to hear what you see.
In addition, if there are any matters arising from the previous thread do feel free to comment below — the management is very grateful to the increasing numbers of people who visited the site in the last weeks of the discussion, and would be very pleased to have more feedback.
NOTICE March 11th, 2014:
Thread Closed for Comments.
This thread is now closed for comments — 1 less than 80 is a lot, and I hope very much that those of you who have not had the opportunity to dip into it further will take the chance to do so.
The thread was designed to deal with some of the issues that were left hanging at the end of the previous thread, “Make It New,” which ended upside down in the grass. Those issues are stalled for the moment, needless to say, but I think the final discussion of Emily Dickinson’s “haunted house” imagery probably took us as far as we could go anyway, under the circumstances.
………THE COMMENTS THAT FOLLOW DEVELOP THE THREAD
July 6, 2011 at 2:26 pm (A Passage to India, Barabar Caves, Carl Sagan, Christopher Woodman, Cosmology, E.M.Forster, Frank Kermode, Heisenberg, Lourdres, Marabar Caves, Sconfitta, Stephen Hawking, The Big Bang, The Man Who Wasn't There, The Uncertainty Principle, The Uses of Error, Uncategorized, Urizen, W.F.Kammann, William Blake)
“Having seen one such cave, having seen three, four, fourteen, twenty-four, the visitor returns…uncertain whether he has had an interesting experience or a dull experience or any experience at all. He finds it difficult to discuss the caves, or to keep them apart in his mind…”……………………………………E. M. Forster, A Passage to India
Click on the cave to expand it, and give thanks to Tim Makins for his beautiful and informative site. This particular cave is called ‘Vadathika’ and is at Barabar north of Gaya in Bihar State, one of four carved in granite at the behest of the great Buddhist Emperor Asoka (269-232 B.C.).
…………………….what are they?
…………………who goes into them?
………………what comes out of them?
“… An entrance was necessary, so mankind made one.
“…But elsewhere, deeper in the granite, are there certain chambers that have no entrances? Chambers never unsealed since the arrival of the gods? Local report declares that these exceed in number those that can be visited, as the dead exceed the living – four hundred of them, four thousand or million. Nothing is inside them, they were sealed up before the creation of pestilence or treasure; if mankind grew curious and excavated, nothing, nothing would be added to the sum of good or evil. One of them is rumoured within the boulder that swings on the summit of the highest of the hills; a bubble-shaped cave that has neither ceiling nor floor, and mirrors its own darkness in every direction infinitely. If the boulder falls and smashes, the cave will smash too – empty as an Easter egg. The boulder because of its hollowness sways in the wind, and even moves when a crow perches upon it; hence its name and the name of its stupendous pedestal: the Kawa Dol.”
………………………………………………………….E. M. Forster, A Passage to India
……“If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man
…….as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up till he sees all things thro’
…….narrow chinks of his cavern.”.
.……………. …William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
My mind enters here, William Blake’s ‘Sconfitta,’ among many other dark cavern-like places — including the cave in A Passage to India, of course, and still asking not just about Adela and Dr Aziz but about Morgan. For this was in fact E.M.Forster’s last novel, as hard as that may be to believe. 1924.
In 1964 I was a Research Student at King’s College and he sat at the High Table every evening. Everyone called him just “Morgan,” and I wondered at his smallness, availability and shyness. Or 1965, maybe, or 1966? — I was so troubled with entrances, with drugs, sex, music, speed as in over the ground, and children, lots of them, and of course Leavis, Lewis, Yehudi Menuhin playing all six Solo Sonatas and Partitas in King’s College Chapel, visions in Fiesole in August and nightmares in the orchard at Grantchester in October, Beatles-live the same evening at a cinema on Regent St. with the locals — no, I don’t remember when. And even more important, my first entrances elsewhere and beyond, as troubling as any Marabar Cave and as easy to get into yet hard to get out of in one piece.
So what happens anyway?