The Anatomy of Melancholy

[Ros]

Some are afraid... that they are all glass, and will suffer no man to come near them;
- Robert Burton

Saint-Germain, Paris, 16th century:

I know now the delicacy of liquid clarity
frozen into a flask, a pitcher; my fluted neck
bent like a swans’ though I may peer upwards
at the Sun; know its heat burns my surface,
magnifies my innards, sets my stomach
aflame. I stroke my fingers, smooth,
clear as fountains, see rippled beneath them
thighs, solid trunks translucent, toes spun
like filigree, enamelled nails enclosed in wire.

I am lucid, tralucent, vitreform
and though you say such clarity
exposes me to God, I am agony manifest;
I relieve myself standing, haltingly, for fear
my buttocks shatter. I dread the call
of the glazier, he who wants me
to make lights for his latticed window.
Run your finger down me as round
a wineglass. My sound is pure.
Though crazed, I will not crack.


.

[benjamin]

"Neck bent like a swan's" was used famously enough by the 19th-century American poet Henry Timrod, and has become something of a cliche. I would avoid it.

Not a big fan of all the abstractions in S2. E.g. "clarity," "agony." 99% of the time it's better to use concrete images.

Other than that, it's a good poem, if a little archaic in its narrative voice. My favorite lines are:

though I may peer upwards
at the Sun; know its heat burns my surface,
magnifies my innards, sets my stomach
aflame..

Powerful stuff.

[ray miller]

Enjoyed this a lot. Not sure about last line.Cracking is just what would be feared, isn't it?

I relieve myself standing, haltingly, for fear
my buttocks shatter.

Does that spring from an anecdote? Seems an odd thing to call to mind otherwise, Ros!

I dread the call of the glazier

It's a nice line, I think, but not something you ever expected to hear.

[Ros]

Benjamin, thanks for the read and comments. Not heard of the Timrod poem, actually. I've based some of the lines on the book of the title, which read rather archaically, so that's where that came from.

Ray, thanks - this is your neck of the woods actually - there was a bit of a fashion in the 16th century for people believing they were made of glass or other substances (ie a baker who thought he was made of butter, and would melt if he went near his oven). The buttocks line was recorded as the view of one of the sufferers, who used to trot round with a permanent cushion attached to his behind. King Charles VI of France was the most famous sufferer. It's held nowadays that they probably had some sort of depression.

Ros

[David]

Ray, thanks - this is your neck of the woods actually - there was a bit of a fashion in the 16th century for people believing they were made of glass or other substances (ie a baker who thought he was made of butter, and would melt if he went near his oven). The buttocks line was recorded as the view of one of the sufferers, who used to trot round with a permanent cushion attached to his behind. King Charles VI of France was the most famous sufferer. It's held nowadays that they probably had some sort of depression.

There's a Cervantes story about this delusion.

Fascinated to know how glass buttocks are Ray's neck of the woods.

I tried to read the Robert Burton. Gave up, I'm afraid. I like the poem, though. Great job of imagining yourself into the mind of the glassy one, and (I think) a lovely last line. I agree with Ray that the reference to the glazier seems a bit odd, although I understand the dread.

Cheers

David

[Ros]

Hi David,

Yes, I think taken as a whole, the Burton is unreadable. Glad you like the poem though - it is a bit of a strange one, this.

Ros

[ray miller]

Yeah, I recognised my neck of the woods. I had heard before of folk who thought they were made of glass.Must be a shattering experience. I figured it must have been an anecdote. Fashions in mental illness is what I call a fascinating subject. These days this would be called body dysmorphic syndrome or some such nonsense. Melancholy is such a beautiful word.

[delph_ambi]

I enjoyed the poem much more having read the explanation. I'd never heard of people thinking they were made of glass, or other substances. Fascinating.

Without the explanation, the 'buttocks' phrase is a bit too laugh-out-loud and jumped out of the poem most disconcertingly. With the explanation, it works. Or is that just me?

I thought at first it was about alchemy, so tried to make it work that way, and of course it didn't.

Regardless of all the above, it's gloriously and richly written, and I love it.

(Of course the quote gives the explanation, but I took that as metaphor when I read it. Had no idea it was to be taken literally.)

[twoleftfeet]

Ros,

This is a fascinating poem all the more interesting because you mention fashions, almost as if the deluded are in
competition with one another.

These lines stood out for me:
thighs, solid trunks translucent, toes spun
like filigree, enamelled nails enclosed in wire.
- and I think the archaic constructs add to the historicity, but I can't see why you use both "tralucent" and "translucent".

If it is at all possible I would be tempted to remove the reference to relieving oneself - "glass arse" sprang immediately
to mind.

I like the ending:
Run your finger down me as round
a wineglass. My sound is pure.
- although IMHO it would work better as
Run your finger round me...

Nice one
Geoff

[Oskar]

Ros

This one threw me all over the place. The personification, historical setting and sumptuous descriptions had me thinking about a nubile princess/member of the aristocracy bracing herself to be traded off to some aged member of another European household. The writing is very strong, very bold. You're observations on the properties of materials are acute and lavish.

I really liked the visuals in -

I stroke my fingers, smooth,
clear as fountains, see rippled beneath them
thighs, solid trunks translucent, toes spun
like filigree, enamelled nails enclosed in wire.

That's a fine piece of decorated glassware and with a picture of fountains in my head, I saw something like the gardens of a royal palace.

I relieve myself standing, haltingly, for fear
my buttocks shatter.

That completely confused me, but I can empathise. I had a similar experience myself in the middle of a Munich campsite many years ago.

If this is purely a people as glass metaphor, I would drop the Robert Burton quote and St-Germain, Paris, 16th century. The piece stands up very nicely by itself.

Thank you. Enjoyed.

[Ros]

Catherine, Geoff, Oskar, thanks. This is a bit of a tricky one, as I think it only works with a bit of background but I didn't want to spell it out too closely. The buttocks bit seemed too good a story to leave out, but doesn't really fit with the tone of the first verse.

Ros

[Denis Joe]

Ros, i read this a couple of times. Each occasion reinforced how great the first stanza is but the second stanza falls apart. Whilst I get the 'relieve myself standing up' it just doesn't sound write. In fact, with the exception of the last four lines (fantastic!) the second stanza seems out of countrol.

[Sharra]

Ros, I've been dipping back into this since you posted it. I just love it - and the ending is fantastic.
My only nits are that word 'tralucent' - I hadn't heard it before and at first glance it looked a typo of a repetition of 'translucent'. And buttocks - I like the 'relieving myself standing' story in here, so I would just like to see a different word. I'm wondering about delving further into the time and seeing what word would have been used then - or the online thesaurus offers words like fundament, posterior, which I quite like.
Nicky
x

[emuse]

Exquisite work Ros. Very unusual and striking. This is definitely a keeper. A few thoughts in the less is more category:

I know now the delicacy of [liquid] clarity (clarity frozen into a flask....very powerful. You do not need "liquid". It is implied with frozen as once being fluid)
frozen into a flask, a pitcher; my fluted neck
[bent] like a swans’ though I may peer upwards
at the Sun; know its heat burns my surface,
magnifies my innards, sets my stomach
aflame. I stroke my fingers, smooth,
clear as fountains, see rippled beneath them
thighs, solid trunks translucent, toes spun
like filigree, enamelled nails enclosed in wire. (simply gorgeous)

I am lucid, [tralucent,] vitreform (another word to keep the beat?)
and though you say such clarity (find another word for clarity since you use it in S1)
exposes me to God, I am agony manifest; (I don't know about saying I am agony manifest. I'd let the reader discover the narrator's agony. The title tells a great deal. I would show another example here of how agony could be manifest. Not sure about the relieving. It's interesting in hindsight... Hmm.)
I relieve myself standing, haltingly, for fear
my buttocks shatter. I dread the call
of the glazier, he who wants me
to make lights for his latticed window.
Run your finger down me as round
a wineglass. My sound is pure.
Though crazed, I will not crack. (love the last three lines here. Stunning. I think there is too much of a leap between the latticed window and the "run". A bit of work on this second half will bring it up to snuff.

A pleasure to read.

e

[emuse]

P.S. the epigraph is so right....gorgeous.

[Arian]

" I would avoid it.

I wouldn't. It works just fine. Although I think you may have misplaced the apostrophe.

Even before you filled us in on its historical context, I enjoyed the piece. And I like it even more, now I know the background.

I am lucid, tralucent, vitreform
and though you say such clarity
exposes me to God, I am agony manifest;

is terrific. Just terrific. and...

Run your finger down me as round
a wineglass. My sound is pure.
Though crazed, I will not crack.

is, if anything, better.

Very good, Ros. I'm afraid I can't suggest anything that would improve it - merely change it.

Cheers
peter

[Ros]

Thanks, all, for the detailed comments. You've given me a lot to think about - I much appreciate your time. I fear the buttocks may have to go - the middle of v2 obviously needs some adjustment. Tralucent popped out of the thesaurus and seemed such a good word, if uncommon. Hmm, I wonder if it's possible to get a little more of the background in without spoiling it.

Ros

So - why is it swan's neck, but neck like a swans' ?

[Arian]

So - why is it swan's neck, but neck like a swans' ?

Possibly because it's a characteristic that's collective - a part of swan-ness. But it doesn't convince. It should be swan's, in this usage, I think.

cheers
peter

[Ros]

So - why is it swan's neck, but neck like a swans' ?

Possibly because it's a characteristic that's collective - a part of swan-ness. But it doesn't convince. It should be swan's, in this usage, I think.

cheers
peter

Thanks, Peter. I was trying to find examples of this, but I can't.