“In Evening Air” is a beautiful poem written by Theodore Roethke. The poem is valued for its vivid dark images, beautiful language, and fascinating theme. In this narrative, Roethke ponders his own depression and discusses the nature of death, time, and other dark forces that bring endings.
The first hint at the poem’s meaning can be derived from its title: “In Evening Air”. Evening is a classic symbol of endings. The title refers to this solemn part of the day suggests that its theme, meanings, and intentions reside side by side with what the evening brings: an end.
“Dark”, the very first word of the poem, immediately sets a dark tone. Roethke writes “A dark theme keeps me here”. “Theme” here means “dominant feeling”. The words “keep me” imply that he (Roethke) is being held somewhere. “Here” implies that both the reader and Roethke are together in the same place. Roethke loses no time in drawing the reader into the same dark place where Roethke is kept by a dark theme. “Though summer blazes in the vireo’s eye” is the next line. A vireo is a beautiful summer bird, and summer is the brightest and hottest time of the year. Roethke reinforces this imagery by adding the word “blazes”, which gives the image of intense light. Since nature is full of light, the darkness with Roethke is unnatural. The third and forth lines abruptly impose a question upon the reader: “Who would be half possessed / By his own nakedness?” “Nakedness” here may mean a number of things: defenseless, being alone, or simply the human body, while “possessed” refers to infatuation. The word “half” is key, because it implies that while one is still infatuated with his nakedness, he is still conscious of his surroundings. This is opposite of animals (symbols of nature), who are usually fully aware of their surroundings. Therefore, question is directed towards humans, who do spend a great deal of their time pondering themselves. Another meaning could be that Roethke is contrasting himself against the rest of the world. However, the same details still apply: humans or a human pondering his own defenselessness, aloneness, or simply existence.
The third and forth lines seem far removed from the first two, but they are connected if the answer to the question, the effects of the question, or even the question itself is the dark theme that keeps Roethke. The final two lines of the poem shift the reader again into a new direction. “Waking’s my care -- / I’ll make a broken music, or I’ll die.” “Waking” here means “to become cognizant or aware”. In the last line, Roethke compares life to music. Roethke, surrounded by his dark theme, can only get by with a broken life. However, Roethke will continue to lead this broken life, because the alternative is dying. The line could imply that Roethke is not favoring the broken life or death, but simply treating them both as options for him. However, since death comes after “broken music”, it is implied that Roethke’s tone is that of determination, and he does indeed intend to avoid death.
The first stanza is a combination of three ideas. Roethke is kept in darkness even though nature is full of light, either Roethke or humanity is fascinated with their being or predicament, and Roethke intends to become aware and get by with the best life he can lead: a broken one. Throughout his life, Roethke experienced recurring bouts of mental illness: a uniquely powerful depression that offered him “…a new sense of reality” (-Roethke). Roethke also grew up with an affinity for nature. Nature comforted Roethke, yet even nature could not save him from his bouts of depression. This easily fits with Roethke being entrapped within darkness during summer. This links the question in the first stanza as Roethke’s musings during these depressions and the last two lines as Roethke’s determination to live on despite the recurring bouts.
The second stanza is the most complicated. It begins with “Ye littles, lie more close!” “Littles” is not an actual word, and may have many interpretations. It could refer to abstract themes such as hopes or dreams, or “littles” could be more concrete. They could refer to stars, children, or (since Roethke was a teacher) students. Whatever “littles” are, Roethke commands them to “lie more close”, a phrase that may presumably be taken literally. The exclamation point at the end of the line gives it a tone of demand and perhaps desperation. The next two lines are a plea, quite the opposite of the line preceding it: “Make me, O Lord, a last, a simple thing / Time cannot overwhelm.” Roethke might mention God simply as part of the plea, or perhaps to point out how humans may do nothing without him. The simple thing is immune to time, and therefore refers to one who is so simple he does not notice the passing of time.
In the next three lines Roethke tells us of a time when he transcended time, and described it further with: “A bud broke to a rose, / And I rose from a last diminishing.” The plea to become unaffected by time combined with the tale of transcending time in the past tells us that Roethke once was unaffected by time, but he is now and wishes he could somehow return to how he was before. This is an obvious allusion to age: youth often feel unaffected by time because they are young, more healthy, and overall in better shape than adults and remain so for many years. “Diminishing” here means “to become less”. The diminishing, since it is negative, can be tied to the other negative things in the poem: either the darkness the holds Roethke or the passing of time. However, since Roethke mentions the diminishing in a past tense, it is likely that this negative event happened in the past. Whatever it was, Roethke rose from it; he overcame it and grew stronger. Roethke mentions “rose” in both the lines, but each has a different meaning: one is a flower, while the other refers to rising. By using the word twice, though, Roethke has tied the two sentences together with imagery (a bud rising into a rose and Roethke rising from his darkness).
Friday, October 24, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
The Heaving Earth
V olcanoe, power, respect it. Alessandra sends us a warning. The natural phenomena are the most powerful, as well as the liest. “Volcano kills, watch out.” We watch out for volcanoes, we map and monitor them. “Fire, power, respect it.” We see the fire, and praise it. “Fire kills, watch out.” We build hydrants and fire trucks. “Flood, power, respect it.” We tell tales of a Great Flood wiping the wicked away. “Flood kills, watch out.” We build our homes on high hills and create insurance. “Hurricane, power, respect it.” We focus our news. “Hurricane kills, watch out.” We evacuate cities.
“Earthquake, power, respect it.”
In 1755 the Lisbon Earthquake broke the Earth’s precious crust and demolished the city of Lisbon, the capital of Portugal. The furious earthquake ended the lives of 68,000 people and buried them within the rubble of the great buildings of the city. All of this happened in less than thirty seconds.
The earthquake, as is common on the coast, triggered a tsunami. An immense wave crashed upon the helpless city, battering ships and docks into planks of wood and sweeping thousands away into the dark sea. Soon afterwards the people, to their horror, discovered that the earthquake, as if in a final effort to rid the world of the dark city forever, had upset lamps and cooking fires during the tumult. The fires ignited a conflagration that burned unchecked for three days, completing the destruction. The city of Lisbon had been completely destroyed; nothing had been able to resist the earth.
The Lisbon Earthquake was caused by a normal fault within the Earth’s crust. Normal faults describe the earth when a layer of rock or crust slips down, causes a rupture within the ground. While normal faults are the most common, they are also the most feared. Normal-fault earthquakes have been notorious for being the most destructive. For example, the 2004 tsunamis were caused by a rupture from a normal fault (they were around twenty feet tall).
When the Lisbon Earthquake occurred, many people concluded that it was the will of an angry God to have the city destroyed. However, they could not explain why God had chosen Lisbon instead of other cities just as notorious, such as London. Others turned to reasoning. The Enlightenment philosophy of Theodicy underwent major developments while trying to cope with the disaster. Many other people turned to science to explain the destruction. Because of their efforts, we now know that the earthquake was of a 9.2 magnitude, had an epicenter of two hundred kilometers, and a tsunami fifty feet high. But perhaps most importantly, these curious thinkers laid down the framework for what would later become seismology, the scientific study of earthquakes. The earthquake had travelled from the depths of the earth with iron intentions to shake our very way of thought.
My grandparents knew the Alaskan Earthquake. On March 27, 1964, 5:36 PM, The Great Alaskan Earthquake struck the Anchorage area. The earthquake registered at 8.6 on the Richter scale, but is now favored as 9.2. Alaska was not prepared for the fabled earthquake. It was Good Friday, and most families were spending the day without worldly concerns. The denizens of Alaska do not own many material goods: they live in small cabins or houses in small towns. The dark thought of destruction seldom entered the minds of the Alaskans, but when it did it came from landslides, hail storms, or blizzards. It never came from robbers, floods, tsunamis, or earthquakes. But blizzards, hail storms, and landslides did not strike at the villages in Alaska that day. My grandmother was wrapped in a wool blanket by the fire in her favorite chair, watching the local news. They interrupted for an important announcement: a great earthquake had just hit Alaska and the surrounding areas. My grandfather remembers being called into the living room to see. On that cold afternoon, with only the fire and blankets for warmth, they saw how with one flick of the earth, 115 lives were taken. I remember being wrapped up with that same blanket next to that same antique fireplace, listening to my grandparents recount the morbid story with terrible accuracy. The Alaskan Earthquake inspired dread and caused devastation to the hopes of people all around the world. The Great Earthquake was completely natural, and, like most natural events, was a solemn reminder of the dust we have come from. “Ashes to ashes,” lectures the priest, “and dust to dust.”
“It’s not the fast life I live, simply living beyond the existing, of equilibrium.” This line is from a poem written by “Vision Ghost”. Living beyond the equilibrium, this is what humans do! Whereas nature sprung from the loins of the earth daring not to upset the balance, we carry our ambitions like fires through an undisturbed night, we scoff at the limitations the cosmos has placed upon us, we burn out our brilliance like the stars themselves, like giant flares of furious fire that reach out into the dark empty void beyond their precious sun before they reach too far and float off into space as ashes and dust.
January 1994 did not come as a lamb. Even in the sunshine state, the chilling air, snow, and sleet battered people into the indoors. And within the earth, tensions stirred. The Northridge Earthquake struck Los Angeles in the early morning of January 17, at 4:31 AM. The earthquake had a magnitude of 6.7, and yet a toll of only 57. Considering the density of the population of Los Angeles, a 6.7 earthquake should have been more than enough to top the Great Alaskan Earthquake. But this was not the case; the toll for the Alaskan Earthquake was twice as large. We had learned from the tragedy of Alaska, and had built ourselves up to meet the tremors of Northridge.
During the crisp morning of January 17 I awoke to the local news. At 7:00 AM, the radio informed me of the earthquake. Later that day, as details on the disaster were eagerly fed to the nation, I was relieved to find the toll at only 57. The news explained that Los Angeles was one of the best prepared places in the world for an earthquake. They had indeed learned from the past disasters: earthquake awareness and safety precautions were high; most
buildings were earthquake resistant as part of their required building code. I sat in my room gazing at the television screen. The white light reflected from the snow shined in through my window. I recalled Darwin’s account of the earthquake he had experienced: “It is indescribable to feel the earth, the very embodiment of solidity, to move and flow beneath your feet like the waves of an ocean.” I could only imagine how the Northridge Earthquake had changed the lives of its participants, to feel the ground beneath them mimic the waves of the ocean. Yet Los Angeles had been able to master these waves, and had surfed the earth’s crust.
The Northridge Earthquake could not take many humans down to the dark, hot caverns from which the tremors came. However, the earthquake proved to be one of the most expensive natural disasters in America’s history, with a total damage estimated at $15 billion. Despite earthquake-resistant building codes, the Northridge quake destroyed many of Los Angeles’ most expensive projects. Many lamented the loss, yet others agreed it was a fair price for the safekeeping of the citizens of California. The earthquake had taken her tribute, one way or the other.
An earthquake is the result of a sudden surge of energy within the Earth’s crust that triggers seismic waves. Earthquakes are literally the direct result of an upset Earth. The cry from a hungry baby, the growl of a threatened dog, the strike of a cornered rattlesnake, or the quaking of the Earth; the cause throughout is distress. Like ants pouring out from an injured anthill, the earth sends its fury through fissures on its surface.
Natural earthquakes occur from faults, faults from the tensions and stress between two tectonic plates. Only recently have we discovered that the earth is moving in slow motion. The Earth’s tectonic plates travel an average of 8.25 inches per year. What the philosophers and religious figures of Lisbon did not realize was that the Earth moves, just like we do. “When you allow peace to flow around the world / then your ness will go and love will love.” This is what Ravi Sathasivam tells us, and yet, despite what we may feel, does the earth not respond as it always has, calm in some moments, but furious after tensions have been held too long? We are but inhabitants on an Earth that heaves with us. Earthquake, power, respect it. It’s not the fast life we live, simply living beyond the existing, of equilibrium.
“Earthquake, power, respect it.”
In 1755 the Lisbon Earthquake broke the Earth’s precious crust and demolished the city of Lisbon, the capital of Portugal. The furious earthquake ended the lives of 68,000 people and buried them within the rubble of the great buildings of the city. All of this happened in less than thirty seconds.
The earthquake, as is common on the coast, triggered a tsunami. An immense wave crashed upon the helpless city, battering ships and docks into planks of wood and sweeping thousands away into the dark sea. Soon afterwards the people, to their horror, discovered that the earthquake, as if in a final effort to rid the world of the dark city forever, had upset lamps and cooking fires during the tumult. The fires ignited a conflagration that burned unchecked for three days, completing the destruction. The city of Lisbon had been completely destroyed; nothing had been able to resist the earth.
The Lisbon Earthquake was caused by a normal fault within the Earth’s crust. Normal faults describe the earth when a layer of rock or crust slips down, causes a rupture within the ground. While normal faults are the most common, they are also the most feared. Normal-fault earthquakes have been notorious for being the most destructive. For example, the 2004 tsunamis were caused by a rupture from a normal fault (they were around twenty feet tall).
When the Lisbon Earthquake occurred, many people concluded that it was the will of an angry God to have the city destroyed. However, they could not explain why God had chosen Lisbon instead of other cities just as notorious, such as London. Others turned to reasoning. The Enlightenment philosophy of Theodicy underwent major developments while trying to cope with the disaster. Many other people turned to science to explain the destruction. Because of their efforts, we now know that the earthquake was of a 9.2 magnitude, had an epicenter of two hundred kilometers, and a tsunami fifty feet high. But perhaps most importantly, these curious thinkers laid down the framework for what would later become seismology, the scientific study of earthquakes. The earthquake had travelled from the depths of the earth with iron intentions to shake our very way of thought.
My grandparents knew the Alaskan Earthquake. On March 27, 1964, 5:36 PM, The Great Alaskan Earthquake struck the Anchorage area. The earthquake registered at 8.6 on the Richter scale, but is now favored as 9.2. Alaska was not prepared for the fabled earthquake. It was Good Friday, and most families were spending the day without worldly concerns. The denizens of Alaska do not own many material goods: they live in small cabins or houses in small towns. The dark thought of destruction seldom entered the minds of the Alaskans, but when it did it came from landslides, hail storms, or blizzards. It never came from robbers, floods, tsunamis, or earthquakes. But blizzards, hail storms, and landslides did not strike at the villages in Alaska that day. My grandmother was wrapped in a wool blanket by the fire in her favorite chair, watching the local news. They interrupted for an important announcement: a great earthquake had just hit Alaska and the surrounding areas. My grandfather remembers being called into the living room to see. On that cold afternoon, with only the fire and blankets for warmth, they saw how with one flick of the earth, 115 lives were taken. I remember being wrapped up with that same blanket next to that same antique fireplace, listening to my grandparents recount the morbid story with terrible accuracy. The Alaskan Earthquake inspired dread and caused devastation to the hopes of people all around the world. The Great Earthquake was completely natural, and, like most natural events, was a solemn reminder of the dust we have come from. “Ashes to ashes,” lectures the priest, “and dust to dust.”
“It’s not the fast life I live, simply living beyond the existing, of equilibrium.” This line is from a poem written by “Vision Ghost”. Living beyond the equilibrium, this is what humans do! Whereas nature sprung from the loins of the earth daring not to upset the balance, we carry our ambitions like fires through an undisturbed night, we scoff at the limitations the cosmos has placed upon us, we burn out our brilliance like the stars themselves, like giant flares of furious fire that reach out into the dark empty void beyond their precious sun before they reach too far and float off into space as ashes and dust.
January 1994 did not come as a lamb. Even in the sunshine state, the chilling air, snow, and sleet battered people into the indoors. And within the earth, tensions stirred. The Northridge Earthquake struck Los Angeles in the early morning of January 17, at 4:31 AM. The earthquake had a magnitude of 6.7, and yet a toll of only 57. Considering the density of the population of Los Angeles, a 6.7 earthquake should have been more than enough to top the Great Alaskan Earthquake. But this was not the case; the toll for the Alaskan Earthquake was twice as large. We had learned from the tragedy of Alaska, and had built ourselves up to meet the tremors of Northridge.
During the crisp morning of January 17 I awoke to the local news. At 7:00 AM, the radio informed me of the earthquake. Later that day, as details on the disaster were eagerly fed to the nation, I was relieved to find the toll at only 57. The news explained that Los Angeles was one of the best prepared places in the world for an earthquake. They had indeed learned from the past disasters: earthquake awareness and safety precautions were high; most
buildings were earthquake resistant as part of their required building code. I sat in my room gazing at the television screen. The white light reflected from the snow shined in through my window. I recalled Darwin’s account of the earthquake he had experienced: “It is indescribable to feel the earth, the very embodiment of solidity, to move and flow beneath your feet like the waves of an ocean.” I could only imagine how the Northridge Earthquake had changed the lives of its participants, to feel the ground beneath them mimic the waves of the ocean. Yet Los Angeles had been able to master these waves, and had surfed the earth’s crust.
The Northridge Earthquake could not take many humans down to the dark, hot caverns from which the tremors came. However, the earthquake proved to be one of the most expensive natural disasters in America’s history, with a total damage estimated at $15 billion. Despite earthquake-resistant building codes, the Northridge quake destroyed many of Los Angeles’ most expensive projects. Many lamented the loss, yet others agreed it was a fair price for the safekeeping of the citizens of California. The earthquake had taken her tribute, one way or the other.
An earthquake is the result of a sudden surge of energy within the Earth’s crust that triggers seismic waves. Earthquakes are literally the direct result of an upset Earth. The cry from a hungry baby, the growl of a threatened dog, the strike of a cornered rattlesnake, or the quaking of the Earth; the cause throughout is distress. Like ants pouring out from an injured anthill, the earth sends its fury through fissures on its surface.
Natural earthquakes occur from faults, faults from the tensions and stress between two tectonic plates. Only recently have we discovered that the earth is moving in slow motion. The Earth’s tectonic plates travel an average of 8.25 inches per year. What the philosophers and religious figures of Lisbon did not realize was that the Earth moves, just like we do. “When you allow peace to flow around the world / then your ness will go and love will love.” This is what Ravi Sathasivam tells us, and yet, despite what we may feel, does the earth not respond as it always has, calm in some moments, but furious after tensions have been held too long? We are but inhabitants on an Earth that heaves with us. Earthquake, power, respect it. It’s not the fast life we live, simply living beyond the existing, of equilibrium.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Taurus
The child was destined from the beginning to change
And bend
And be molded into something more than just a crying baby. With every new face he saw, came a new sensation, a new emotion, until there were so many emotions, they started to combine and shift and reappear
Again,
And again,
And again.
This child was born under the sign of the bull, the constellation of Taurus that predicted everything he would ever amount to be.
Ever.
Taurus is made up of several different stars. Each star has its own solar system. Each solar system has its own planets. Each planet has a history, a legacy, a story.
One boy out of 6.684 billion humans on Earth.
And bend
And be molded into something more than just a crying baby. With every new face he saw, came a new sensation, a new emotion, until there were so many emotions, they started to combine and shift and reappear
Again,
And again,
And again.
This child was born under the sign of the bull, the constellation of Taurus that predicted everything he would ever amount to be.
Ever.
Taurus is made up of several different stars. Each star has its own solar system. Each solar system has its own planets. Each planet has a history, a legacy, a story.
One boy out of 6.684 billion humans on Earth.
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