The Labour of Beauty
06 Mar 2010 1 Comment
in Poetry, Study Abroad Tags: beauty, Poetry, School
I have to write 2,250 words by Tuesday about the poem “Adam’s Curse,” by W.B. Yeats. I really like this poem, so I wanted to share it. It’s about how ever since Adam and Eve were expelled from Eden, mankind has had to labor for beauty, be it in the form of poetry, physical beauty, or love. The beginning also addresses how poets and writers are undervalued, and people in other professions think we sit around with our heads in the sky all day. But really, working with words is just as hard, or even more so, than working with money or medicine. The product has to seem effortless.
We sat together at one summer’s end,
That beautiful mild woman, your close friend,
And you and I, and talked of poetry.
I said, ‘A line will take us hours maybe;
Yet if it does not seem a moment’s thought,
Our stitching and unstitching has been naught.
Better go down upon your marrow-bones
And scrub a kitchen pavement, or break stones
Like an old pauper, in all kinds of weather;
For to articulate sweet sounds together
Is to work harder than all these, and yet
Be thought an idler by the noisy set
Of bankers, schoolmasters, and clergymen
The martyrs call the world.’. . . . . . . . . And thereupon
That beautiful mild woman for whose sake
There’s many a one shall find out all heartache
On finding that her voice is sweet and low
Replied, ‘To be born woman is to know-
Although they do not talk of it at school-
That we must labour to be beautiful.’I said, ‘It’s certain there is no fine thing
Since Adam’s fall but needs much labouring.
There have been lovers who thought love should be
So much compounded of high courtesy
That they would sigh and quote with learned looks
Precedents out of beautiful old books;
Yet now it seems an idle trade enough.’We sat grown quiet at the name of love;
We saw the last embers of daylight die,
And in the trembling blue-green of the sky
A moon, worn as if it had been a shell
Washed by time’s waters as they rose and fell
About the stars and broke in days and years.I had a thought for no one’s but your ears:
That you were beautiful, and that I strove
To love you in the old high way of love;
That it had all seemed happy, and yet we’d grown
As weary-hearted as that hollow moon.
Since poetry is meant to be heard, take a listen.
Trip #4: Avebury and Stonehenge (England)
03 Mar 2010 1 Comment
in Study Abroad, Travel Tags: beauty, clouds, Harry Potter Bingo, Travel Writing, World Heritage Site
Avebury
That morning, I wasn’t sure whether or not I should wear my rain boots since the weather was looking up. But as soon as we got off the bus in Avebury, I was so happy with my decision to put them on. We were walking in mud all day.
Avebury is a circle of stones that isn’t as famous as Stonehenge. I didn’t know it existed myself before I signed up for the trip. Both sites are historical landmarks, yet very different. For one, the diameter of Avebury is huge, so huge people built a town in the middle. They had dug a trench around the whole area too. It was a very secretive place. There was something mystical about it because it was an awe-inspiring white pearl of land, its color caused by clay. Today, grass has carpeted the entire site.
The two largest boulders constituted the entrance, one of which was called the Devil’s Throne. None of the rocks were shaped by man, the way the ones at Stonehenge look like fish-sticks. They were all pegged into the earth, point down, rough and jagged and irregular.
We strolled around the small town, and the first place we went into was a barn that was turned into a history museum about Avebury. We also walked through a graveyard and went inside an Abbey. The door had a sign that said “Push Hard.” The irony made me laugh. Spirituality and religion aren’t things you can mosey into. They take time to understand, effort to internalize them and make them a part of your life. You do have to “push hard,” with any religion.
Chantal and I made another hit on Harry Potter Bingo. We dubbed a stone dovecote Hagrid’s Hut.
Beyond the stone circle and town was an endless stretch of green fields in all directions.
Stonehenge
After a 45 minutes bus ride, we arrived. I had dozed off, and woke up suddenly to people exclaiming, “It’s Stonehenge!”
The carved stones were grouped more closely together than I had expected. We were given audio guides and tromped the muddy circumference of the site as we listened to them. We weren’t allowed to touch the rocks as we were at Avebury.
Of course, there was a gift shop and a food stand. I drank hot chocolate for the first time since I’ve come abroad. It was delicious.
Here are facts I learned about Stonehenge:
- The name means “Hanging Stones”
- It had a religious purpose. Archeologists found the cracked skull of a 3 year old, which indicated that sacrifices were made there.
- It had astronomical significance. They used it to tell what time of the year it was, depending on which arch of stones the sun shined through.
- There were mounds around it, where the dead were buried.
- The rocks are an average of 13 feet tall.
- 1/3 of the rocks are underground
- The bluestones in the middle of the circle are from Wales.
- They used rafts to float them over water and rolling logs to travel them over land.
Honestly, I can’t remember much else. I was a bit underwhelmed. I think it’s because I’ve seen pictures of Stonehenge since I was in elementary school, and it looked exactly like all the National Geographic photographs. Actually, some photographs are even cooler because they are taken during sunrises, sunsets, meteor showers, or eclipses. The day we went was cloudy and cold.
It’s cool to have seen it in person, but it’s not like I’m going to go around saying, “Hi. I’m Salma. I’ve seen Stonehenge. What have you done?”
I think I was more fascinated with the clouds than the manmade wonder. I’m not being sarcastic. Hundreds pile upon each other in smooth, round scoops. On eye level, they are mountainous formations, sitting on the horizon as if they protrude from the ground and have watched over the land for centuries. They could be hiding an entire universe behind their backs, a world in each sloping valley of white. Above you, they are lofty palaces suspended in the sky. Because they are full and voluminous, they drift ever so slowly with an air of majesty. When we were driving back to the university, and the sky was all peach and plum and raspberry, I couldn’t stop staring. These are the skies you only see in Victorian paintings.
The sky was a glassy, blue mirror reflecting all the most magnificent snowy mountain ranges, as if to say, “Nothing you build will rival the Earth itself. Even a reflection of the land is more beautiful than what you’ve made.”
No wonder all the best artists and writers came from this side of the world. The sky and land are constant inspirations.
~ Salma
