What happens when we experience a severe loss in our lives? What is our reaction? What’s to be done? What responses do the people around us have to our distress? What reactions do we want them to have? For some who have experienced a loss, the solution is isolation, as we shall see; however, something or someone always seems to intervene to break the solitary state, as will be apparent in Segment 3.
When it is a young person bearing the loss, coping strategies are few, no matter how brilliant youth may be. Perhaps more than any other time in life, relationships are highly volatile during adolescence – and important, in equal magnitude. Relationship is all there is! This is true whether we are talking about the natural world, human interaction, or stellar bodies. And if this statement is true, we may do well to attend to relationships in equal measure.
Perhaps this Song says something about how life is diminished as relationships dwindle. Since a loss of relationship occurs in this segment, as well as the end of the prior segment, we have a chance to consider these matters.
Song 5 Segment 2 – Threshing
I don’t see Jani again in those days
A harborless sailor out on humming sea
I imagine my friend dark against a
weather horizon, out in the howling
yelling downward from the masthead rigging,
“Get away!
Go now, my knife is ready for your heart!”
The voice dims and fades though the slanting storm’s
shadow rises up blacker overhead
Jani did not belong here, nor do I
I will not forget this, I swear an oath
I’ll show this pitiful town what we were
if I must split myself and half become her
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A month goes by that seems more like a year
People ask me where Jani is. I say,
“How should I know?” and “None of your business!”
because I don’t know and they do not care
My teacher asks how things stand now with me
I know if I answer I will surely
tell the truth and that’s hard enough to keep
inside me where it’s hidden well and safe
If I tell him the shadows interred there
I know that I will fall in –disappear
So, I say nothing but “I am all right”
He does not believe it but favors me
by sadly smiling, and not asking more
Every night I climb the tower remembering
I climb fast and reckless not caring if
I miss a step – fall like the three-inch knife
That would be easiest and least trouble
The first morning watch would find me broken
cold-dead and crumpled below the tower
Instead I sit on the platform under
icy stars thinking – figuring what to do
to be – now that she is gone -- not with me
Part of me is glad she is – another
part wants to be with her, backs to the sea
I see the crippled kid who blames Jani
in the end, not me, just as Jani said
He keeps insisting on showing me his
slashed shoulder in the progressive stages
getting well – like an old, submissive dog
turning belly up for another slash
This hurts the most because it keeps showing
the part of Jani I am glad is gone
the part of me I am afraid is here
When the crippled kid keeps on coming back
I yell at him to stay away from me
It is quite clear this hurts me more than him
the way he looks at me from a distance
waiting for me like a hungry puppy
While I am caught between my bristling words
and something harder, nameless, poisoning
like a serpent hidden under blankets
I do all the work the teacher asks for
I stay away from home more – no one but
the crippled kid seems to notice if I’m
around – even the teacher stops asking
The house I live in is where I eat, sleep
and dodge the noisy people who are there
busy dealing with their own ghosts to care
as long as I make no more trouble there
The Spring brings warm nights and I stay longer
at the tower watching the moon arc up
true, white and constant, even when it rains
a pale light comes through the gray curtain-clouds
I leave only because I fear rolling
off the platform in my sleep and because
those at home will make a fuss come morning
As warmer days roll out the green grass fields
spread out from the tower, and the teacher’s room
grows hot and small so I cannot breathe there
I take extra food as I leave home each
morning, head out of town toward the river
where the trees make concealed, quiet places
I return for more food late in the day
and head as always for the tower at night
It can’t last – I know it – the others will
make me go back to the teacher’s small room
While it endures, I’ll chew on every weed
turn each gray stone and stir river’s waters
The freedom is like a red fruit I bite
and suck and swallow letting the sweetness
paint my throat blood-red and swirl down darkly
On the tower, I look out to the edge
where the black circle meets the purple sky
I listen to the white stars’ humming drone
and watch their paths across the vaulted dome
I can count on them – they are always there
the stars – the sky – the moon – the pulsing sound
They ask no questions – but they point southbound
I feel the smell of town peeling off me
like dead skin off a snake at molting time
I feel the part of me that flies spreading
blue wings unfurling from my back at night
I feel all right these days since Jani left
I see her now – she’s always upside down
hanging from her knees on the bright cross-spar
of a tall triple-masted sailing ship
daring that thin bar – willing it to break
She hangs suspended and she never falls
I’m the one who is falling into place
I see Jani’s grin set ‘round savage teeth
From this distance, I can see her clear heart
to remember Jani and to wish her
towers and masts to climb all her lovely life
Because I understand her leaving now
as the single way it could be done at all
to make it easier for both of us
to get her gone and get me on my way
Around all this I shape a perfect bubble
to contain all the world and hold it still
I repeat this story again, again
until I cannot tell where I begin
and Jani ends in the cold stars between
In the ninth month of floating in my bubble
I hear a sound below the tower where no
sound should be because tonight is windless
a sound like something dragging cross the grass
It could be a snake, I guess – but it sounds
much larger than any snake I have seen
I strain my ears but hear only pulsing
in my head – my own heart thumping faster
Now again the hiss of rustling grasses
I feel a tremor from a foot placed on
the tower ladder hanging down below
Something – someone is climbing up to me
Suddenly relieved I call out, “Jani!?”
Background:
Most people have made and lost friends. Sometimes the loss is for the better; sometimes not. In any case, things never stay the same. Change is integral to our existence, although most of the time we act like it’s an affront to have things so.
Even though our character eventually realizes why Jani had to leave, a yearning remains, as represented in the final line of this segment which is about current relief at what appears to be Jani’s return. Why so eager for Jani’s appearance even after our character has come to resolution about her departure?
This current series of Songs charts the rough seas of middle youth years. Some of us choose not to revisit those years due to their chaos and pain, and even trauma. Still, for most, this time of “firsts” is also a period of great adventure and discovery, even if usually on the physical/emotional planes. That said, recalling these early years can be a real challenge as we attempt to sort through the chaos, the poor choices, and the elaborate successes. In short, this segment is part of a much longer look at impetuousness during this time of life for a young person, and the resolutions, if any can be found, for more than a brief time. This is the beginning of an “adventure of a lifetime!” Nothing can prepare our young characters for that; they must learn this for themselves. Even a compassionate teacher can only go so far.
Exploration 1: Why does our character climb the tower each night? Do you think the oath made about showing the town what the two of the are/were will ever be made good?
Exploration 2: Why to you think the protagonist dislikes the town so much? Is this normal or aberrant? Do you think a helpful approach exists for such a situation?
Exploration 3: What is it that makes our character imagine Jani in maritime scenes, and always “upside down?”
Exploration 4: What is your reaction to “the crippled kid’s” continued presence in the main character’s life. Any thoughts on how this relationship may evolve – or not?
Exploration 5: Consider the excerpt below. Why does the protagonist repeat “this story”? What does it mean when someone can’t tell the difference between self and other?
Excerpt: “I repeat this story again, again
until I cannot tell where I begin
and Jani ends in the cold stars between”
ReplyDeleteA tower at night is a good place to go if you want to be alone and also be reminded of a missing friend who used the tower as a refuge.
You can never show up your little town. If you become famous, the town will take the credit. If you become infamous, the town will say, we knew it.
This town and home does not seem nurturing. A parent should be involved in their town and get their child involved. And take the kid on the road to show them the big world.
The narrator's other world is told in maritime images so it's not surprising he sees the absent Jani in those terms.
Good to see the crippled kid back. He could develop.
Being unable to tell yourself from another is a serious mental problem.
Yes we're all one big happy, but violating boundaries can lead to trouble.
Interesting that you choose to comment at length about the town of the characters’ youth. I must admit that my disdain for my hometown remains strong, probably because I truly never was accepted there – always on the fringe of the crowd, if that. But I grow maudlin. I do particularly like your assessment of the town’s attitude toward fame and infamy. I also appreciate your inclusiveness of the town and the wider world which it appears our protagonist did not experience – at least up to this time in the narrative.
DeleteThe maritime images will persist, so if you like them, stand by. Full disclosure: I wrote this part of the epic many years ago when I owned a 44’ Morgan sailing vessel – a real challenge to sail alone which I only did a few times; however, I spent scores of nights aboard watching the stars. That has integrated forever a love of the sea and its attendant environment, not to mention the canopy of starlights.
As usual, your intuition is right on target regarding the crippled kid whose name is Hart.
Thank you so much for staying engaged with the story. I no longer feel that I am sailing solo.