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And love's the burning boy
Feb. 13th, 2007 11:13 pmI started to do my Philosophy reading... by which I mean, I opened the book. Then my mind started to wander, and I got an idea for another short story I will probably never write. But the story reminded me of a poem, Casabianca, and then I had to come look it up because I couldn't remember all of the words. I love that poem. And love's the boy; here's Elizabeth Bishop's take on it.
'Casabianca' recounts a true story, at the Battle of the Nile when Casabianca, the 13-year-old son of the captain of The Orient, tragically (or heroically) stayed aboard the burning ship, and was killed.
The psychoanalysis of the boy in question, though, is entirely the invention of the poet. Hemens clearly interprets this as heroism; his loyalty was of highest virtue. I'm not so sure. To me, the story is about what can happen when we place absolute faith in some authority figure, especially one as fallible as a person. (This theme, incidentally, was what the never-written story was to be about.) Bishop's is far less preachy; she equate's his faith with love--he is love, in that he fully embodies absolute trust. Thus she makes him an object of bittersweet envy to the sailors. The last line, though, seems to indicate perhaps a bit of cynicism, or something like my interpretation of the situation: the tragedy of absolute trust in a fallible authority. Is this love?
It's so appropriate for mid-February. Incidentally, though, I am not celebrating Valentine's Day this year (not that I have any year since I was a little kid, but still). The true high holiday of February is the 15th: Chocolate Sale Day. The day before is known as the Day of Cravings, and is not to be celebrated.
Update-y bit:
I've been busy lately. Saturday I went to a Stop the War conference thingy in Glasgow. All day. Fun, but tiring. And I didn't get any of my 135+ pages of History reading done. Sunday I did a bunch of recycling (NONE of the floor reps showed up to help, but fortunately Amit helped me out), then went to the Societies Fayre. I joined One World, which I've been meaning to do, and worked the booth for the last hour for Stop the War Soc. I caught the end of the rugby (Ireland-France--gutting, literally last-minute loss for Ireland), then since I happened to be in town, I stopped by Aikmans to check out the Socialist Society meeting I'd heard would be happening. Long story short: I am now contributing to their magazine, 'The Radical'.
I think I committed to more ongoing things last weekend than I have in the rest of my time here. So of course I am getting a cold. Eh. I really need to get a diary. And spend less time online. Off to do the still undone Philosophy reading, now, I suppose.
'Casabianca' recounts a true story, at the Battle of the Nile when Casabianca, the 13-year-old son of the captain of The Orient, tragically (or heroically) stayed aboard the burning ship, and was killed.
The psychoanalysis of the boy in question, though, is entirely the invention of the poet. Hemens clearly interprets this as heroism; his loyalty was of highest virtue. I'm not so sure. To me, the story is about what can happen when we place absolute faith in some authority figure, especially one as fallible as a person. (This theme, incidentally, was what the never-written story was to be about.) Bishop's is far less preachy; she equate's his faith with love--he is love, in that he fully embodies absolute trust. Thus she makes him an object of bittersweet envy to the sailors. The last line, though, seems to indicate perhaps a bit of cynicism, or something like my interpretation of the situation: the tragedy of absolute trust in a fallible authority. Is this love?
It's so appropriate for mid-February. Incidentally, though, I am not celebrating Valentine's Day this year (not that I have any year since I was a little kid, but still). The true high holiday of February is the 15th: Chocolate Sale Day. The day before is known as the Day of Cravings, and is not to be celebrated.
Update-y bit:
I've been busy lately. Saturday I went to a Stop the War conference thingy in Glasgow. All day. Fun, but tiring. And I didn't get any of my 135+ pages of History reading done. Sunday I did a bunch of recycling (NONE of the floor reps showed up to help, but fortunately Amit helped me out), then went to the Societies Fayre. I joined One World, which I've been meaning to do, and worked the booth for the last hour for Stop the War Soc. I caught the end of the rugby (Ireland-France--gutting, literally last-minute loss for Ireland), then since I happened to be in town, I stopped by Aikmans to check out the Socialist Society meeting I'd heard would be happening. Long story short: I am now contributing to their magazine, 'The Radical'.
I think I committed to more ongoing things last weekend than I have in the rest of my time here. So of course I am getting a cold. Eh. I really need to get a diary. And spend less time online. Off to do the still undone Philosophy reading, now, I suppose.
