A Rumored Demise

[David W. Parsley]

A Rumored Demise

"Whither is God?" he cried; "I will tell you. We have killed him---you and I. …
What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled
to death under our knives”
— Nietzsche, The Gay Science

I too expected more: a denunciation to grab the navel
like a black hook, spook sparrows from my ficus
fomenting a movement to stoke or darken
something the sun maybe or at least the planetarium doors.

This notice with its tired ironies refreshing prior guidelines:
check grips in advance for stains; the coot with the lantern
will not be coming repeat not coming.
The curious decide to attend.  It's more than odd

casket gaping like a washed mouth, distended lips
reflecting cloud cover suspended above the open dig.
No obvious wounds show they handle that kind of thing.
Some leave immediately one woman supported on either side

My sister told me not to come It doesn't even look like him
Tallish people in lab coats busy themselves with needles
nodding in satisfaction grant brief statements.
The pluck-bearded man wearing a tool belt appears

shouldering a heft of long and short beams, nails,
strides quickly through.  He pauses to glance down
the chopped edges of silence, around those present
catching my gaze.  Consider what the dead do.

 

 

previously unpublished
© 2021 David W. Parsley
Parsley Poetry Collection

[badger11]

hi Dave,

               Plenty of hooks to interest this reader. I'll record some first impressions, but will return later when the poem has marinated.

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A Rumored Demise

A good title because it is an invitation to read on and seek proof to the rumour. Gossip implies the deceased has lost connection with folk or that the death has some unordinary aspect.

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"Whither is God?" he cried; "I will tell you. We have killed him---you and I. …
What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled
to death under our knives”
— Nietzsche, The Gay Science

This prompts a philosophical and religious framing of the read, a wider context than personal loss. Death does concentrate thoughts on God, after life, and a search for meaning. So is the reader to draw parallels with this death and that of Jesus? And where does the responsibility of the death lie? A victim, a murder? Onto the poem...

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I too expected more: a denunciation to grab the navel
like a black hook, spook sparrows from my ficus
fomenting a movement to stoke or darken
something the sun maybe or at least the planetarium doors.

Expectation arising from the original rumour? And, like Nietzsche, to be disappointed. God was silent, and silence not loud denunciation is heard here. Who is responsible? The navel/hook imagery evokes birth/child pain, reaching back to primal pain and there is some ghostly evocation too in the spooking of nature (the hook/spook sonics reinforces that thread). But there is no such drama here. The alliteration, assonance, and hard consonants translate an anger. Where is the meaning to be found - nothing in the stars (playful use of planetarium), no corresponding resonance in extraordinary light or darkness.

 

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This notice with its tired ironies refreshing prior guidelines:
check grips in advance for stains; the coot with the lantern
will not be coming repeat not coming.
The curious decide to attend.  It's more than odd

Like the break on odd for emphasis and to draw me into the next stanza.  coot/lantern not sure who this references, Charon? Or some funeral ritual? What is the significance of the stains?  Virus? Why have folk come out of curiosity?

 

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casket gaping like a washed mouth, distended lips
reflecting cloud cover suspended above the open dig.
No obvious wounds show they handle that kind of thing.
Some leave immediately one woman supported on either side

Fantastic, original similie. The reference to stains in S2 threaded here with the washed mouth and the preparation of the body. wounds, a Christ parallel, and who/what caused them? There is an unsettling humanising of that casket with the distended lips. And what is the horror that exits one curious 'mourner'. Or was this someone looking for a Christ-like miracle?

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My sister told me not to come It doesn't even look like him
Tallish people in lab coats busy themselves with needles
nodding in satisfaction grant brief statements.
The pluck-bearded man wearing a tool belt appears

The rumour has been proven in the 'horror' or baseless (not a Messiah). The clinical element again conveys the sensational and extraordinary or at least the controlled. Love the little detail of 'Tallish people', detail that grounds a reality. In contrast to the needles the burial continues with the more mundane ordinariess of burial - the 'tool belt'.

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shouldering a heft of long and short beams, nails,
strides quickly through.  He pauses to glance down
the chopped edges of silence, around those present
catching my gaze.  Consider what the dead do.

There is a job to be done, a practical one, unhindered by thoughts of philosophy or religion. What do the dead bequeath? A body and nothing more. A poem muchly enjoyed. Will consider. And think about some nit crits.

best

Phil

[David W. Parsley]

Hi Phil, thanks for participating so well in the sense of perplexity and uncertainty in the piece, the spooky undertone, the Christ parallels.  A couple of notes might lend some insight:

1. Friedrich Nietzche is famous for proclaiming, "God is dead."  This assertion appears first in The Gay Science and further fleshed out in Thus Spake Zarathustra.  He uses an eccentric figure to communicate this to the population of a city.  An expansion of the poem's opening quote, bolded text for relevance:

THE MADMAN----Have you not heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours, ran to the market place, and cried incessantly: "I seek God! I seek God!"---As many of those who did not believe in God were standing around just then, he provoked much laughter. Has he got lost? asked one. Did he lose his way like a child? asked another. Or is he hiding? Is he afraid of us? Has he gone on a voyage? emigrated?---Thus they yelled and laughed

The madman jumped into their midst and pierced them with his eyes. "Whither is God?" he cried; "I will tell you. We have killed him---you and I. All of us are his murderers. But how did we do this? How could we drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What were we doing when we unchained this earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving? Away from all suns? Are we not plunging continually? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there still any up or down? Are we not straying, as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it not become colder? Is not night continually closing in on us? Do we not need to light lanterns in the morning? Do we hear nothing as yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we smell nothing as yet of the divine decomposition? Gods, too, decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.

"How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off
us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it? There has never been a greater deed; and whoever is born after us---for the sake of this deed he will belong to a higher history than all history hitherto."

Here the madman fell silent and looked again at his listeners; and they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last he threw his lantern on the ground, and it broke into pieces and went out. "I have come too early," he said then; "my time is not yet. This tremendous event is still on its way, still wandering; it has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder require time; the light of the stars requires time; deeds, though done, still require time to be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from them than most distant stars---and yet they have done it themselves.

It has been related further that on the same day the madman forced his way into several churches and there struck up his requiem aeternam deo. Led out and called to account, he is said always to have replied nothing but: "What after all are these churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchers of God?"

Source: Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science (1882, 1887) para. 125; Walter Kaufmann ed. (New York: Vintage, 1974), pp.181-82.]

And there is the next stage of the narrative, building on the same theme in Thus Spake Zarathustra:

"And what is the saint doing in the forest?" asked Zarathustra. The saint answered: "I make songs and sing them; and when I make songs, I laugh, cry, and hum: thus I praise God. With singing, crying, laughing, and humming, I praise the god who is my god. But what do you bring us as a gift?" When Zarathustra had heard these words he bade the saint farewell and said: "What could I have to give you? But let me go quickly lest I take something from you!" And thus they separated, the old one and the man, laughing as two boys laugh. But when Zarathustra was alone he spoke thus to his heart: "Could it be possible? This old saint in the forest has not yet heard anything of this, that God is dead!"

2.  And then there is Mark Twain's famous assertion supposedly upon reading his obituary: "Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated."

To me and other believers, it can be difficult to read scientific and moral objections to God.  Whenever I probe deeply enough, I come across something that is off, usually a presupposition or misinterpretation of intent.  Just seems like another case of mistaken identity.  So I am unconvinced.

Cheers,
- David 

[badger11]

I can understanded why the Nietzche inspired.

The poem has impressed even more on reflection. It is unsettling, particularly those Tallish people, their height reinforces a perceived sense of their superiority. As representatives of 'science' are they the cause of the death or were they there to test in case of a resurrection? That satisfaction has a smugness that chills.

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My sister told me not to come It doesn't even look like him
Tallish people in lab coats busy themselves with needles

I noticed your comma usage is sparse, which means the reader is left to do the work, but in this example do you need a full-stop after him? Of course, the traditions in Western art have conjured a defining image of Christ, what he looked like or should look like, the humour here defines the nonsense of that expectation.

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shouldering a heft of long and short beams, nails,

Crucifixion parallels, and after googling, with the plucked-beard as well. The presence, implied, adds another layer and irony.

best

Phil

[badger11]

https://ww2.odu.edu/~lmusselm/plant/bible/commonfig.php

So now I know why you reference the ficus.

 

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Consider what the dead do.

I can, but is this too open a consideration?

 

[David W. Parsley]

Hi Phil, nice research, I must say.  And I appreciate the other comments just as much, relating to punctuation and diction.  I'll share my intentions so we can discuss further:

First of all, I was sure the ficus reference would require considerable time before someone unearthed the beginnings of my intentions here.  Your find is a better reference than I would have inserted, so well done!  But I would like to leave it at that, for now, since I believe that conversation alone has the potential to predominate and therefore distract from the principal themes.

On 1/19/2021 at 5:38 AM, badger11 said:

I can understand why the Nietzche inspired.

The poem has impressed even more on reflection. It is unsettling, particularly those Tallish people, their height reinforces a perceived sense of their superiority. As representatives of 'science' are they the cause of the death or were they there to test in case of a resurrection? That satisfaction has a smugness that chills.

Nailed it.  The smugness is particularly ludicrous given what happens just before, but the Authorities here are oblivious, absorbed in their own certainty.  So what is significant about what happened just before?

On 1/18/2021 at 12:09 AM, David W. Parsley said:

...
Some leave immediately one woman supported on either side

My sister told me not to come It doesn't even look like him
...

First a little about the lack of punctuation.  It isn't needed, for one thing.  By first initiating then discontinuing the italics, the clause(s) can be recognized as standing alone.  Sure, but why bother with an alternate grammar, when folks have gone through all the trouble of giving us a perfectly sound one already?  Perhaps especially here, but also elsewhere in the poem, the idea is to simulate the confusion of ideas, the inherent ambiguities, the rush of barely intelligible thought and communication.

But back to the connection with the activities of the smug authority figures.  People came because they were curious, yet some are leaving upon first sight of the corpse.  The upset woman has uttered the source of the dissatisfaction though she is not yet calm enough to consider the ramifications.  The one being buried is not as advertised. Despite continuing to go through the motions, rendering their tests (which upon close inspection are no more sophisticated than the purported mobster stabbing his rival to assure the death is "real"), and participating in preening interviews - many people realize the announcement is not simply "greatly exaggerated" (legendary quote by Mark Twain), but actually untrue.  They are preening over a version of God that the rest of us were never dealing with in the first place.  Why stick around for that?

But to your point, there is a double-entendre at work here, playing with the discomfort that arises amongst those attending a funeral when the deceased has been prepared in a way that actually makes the person somewhat unlike their appearance in life.  As done at other point along the way, the poem deliberately places the reader once again in The Valley of the Uncanny.  And, yes, also plugging into the common tradition of what Christ is supposed to look like, the inherent ironies.  (I did not expect most readers to pick up on that latter point - nicely done.)

On 1/21/2021 at 4:47 AM, badger11 said:

I can, but is this too open a consideration?

Perhaps.  And I expected to discuss that point in this forum.  Some listeners consider this a stimulating conclusion, wondering at the intended meaning or if it is a rhetorical question, and if so, why (to your point).  Others find it so obscure as to be frustrating or even anti-climactic.  My intentions are two-fold.  The more ironic refers to a Biblical passage in which Jesus advises someone to "Let the dead bury the dead," a veiled insult to the hasty burial crew and especially the authority figures.  Their work here is aloof, destructive, a dead end.  It contrasts with the living work of the Christ figure ("Is this not the carpenter's son?) who makes eye contact with those in attendance as he passes hurriedly through, has important work to continue.

[badger11]

Hi David,

               Thank you for that thoughtful and detailed response, which helps to illuminate the poem and prompts me to ponder further, but first I would like to quote a response to a poem from another forum:

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this poem means something significant to you. Your challenge is to find a way to let the poem reveal itself to the reader. At this point it is still concealing itself.

How much is being communicated to the reader? How much is being locked into the internal monologue of the author? Perhaps those questions don't matter, and there would be too much compromise to focus on communication. We are both aware of how much annotation enriches the reading experience of Joyce! There is an argument that the religious context would be more meaningful in the C19 than the C21, but for me the poem does not rely on that level of detailed knowledge (though it does benefit the reading experience). I'm a believer in layering poems and I think the poem mainly succeeds in this regard or at least the reader is motivated to read beneath the surface attractions.

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Some leave immediately one woman supported on either side

Again parallels can be drawn with Joyce, and it is true to say I have no difficulty with 'writing' the pause into my reading, but aren't there other 'challenges' you want the reader to focus on than these distractions? (Minor though they are).

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Perhaps especially here, but also elsewhere in the poem, the idea is to simulate the confusion of ideas, the inherent ambiguities, the rush of barely intelligible thought and communication.

This is dangerous territory, especially for communication, and the outcome can merely be 'confusion'. However, your poem does translate ambiguity...even with those minor 'distractions' of non-punctuation😀

I will give some further thought on the concluding sentence and your links.

best

Phil

[badger11]

hi David

I'm surprised there have been no other responses to your poem.

An old friend telephoned me on Sunday and I mentioned your poem. Specifically the punctuation and the 'plucked beard'. She had recently read a novel that utilised line breaks rather than traditional punctuation. She found that her reading became switched onto the approach and it did not inhibit her reading. She is a Christain and said that there is no reference to Jesus and a plucked beard in the NT. I gather that the reference is more OT prophecy in Isaiah and the historical viewpoint of Roman practices and humiliating prisoners. This threads into the 'expectation' theme.

 

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Consider what the dead do.

As Joyce wrote, they have a hold over the living.

A Scottish poet once said that she appreciated the prospect of oblivion, that hell would be eternal life!

[tonyv]

Phil, there will be at least one other response (mine) soon. I’ve just been behind on making replies. I’m in the process of catching up. 

Tony 😲

[tonyv]

Dave, I’m sorry for the delay. Im looking forward to getting here this week. 

Tony

[xcturtl]

INcredibly grabbing first line. Rest of the poem could use some rhythm to increase the flow - this one would be a good one to read out loud, however.