Aug 12
There is a moment of reversal within totality.
Totality: The Colour of Eclipse in Decreation Anne Carson
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There is a moment of reversal within totality.
Totality: The Colour of Eclipse in Decreation Anne Carson
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Dear God, I cannot love Thee the way I want to. You are the slim crescent of a moon that I see and my self is the earth’s shadow that keeps me from seeing all the moon. The crescent is very beautiful and perhaps that is all one like I am should or could see; but what I am afraid of, dear God, is that my self shadow will grow so large that it blocks the whole moon, and that I will judge myself by the shadow that is nothing. I do not know You God because I am in the way. Please help me to push myself aside.
Flannery O’Connor, A Prayer Journal.
Can mysticism be said to live on for us in the experience of art and as the experience of art?
If so, such art will be premised upon its own negation. As [T.S.] Eliot writes, in words that I am inclined to take literally, “The poetry does not matter.” To call Dave Rahm’s final dive an artwork is to confuse art with technique. It is rather a question of what art or poetry points towards, surrenders us to, which is some affluence, some quality, some ribbon of movement cutting the sky and setting itself on fire, some terrible beauty that comes from the air, and which cannot be contained in words or expressed in images. Whatever is being evoked here is closer to something else, some height or depth of human ecstasy or human anguish. As Eliot said in a speech to would-be poets in 1960, if poetry were ever to reach its goal, it would “annihilate poetry.” The self-annihilation of poetry is another way of saying “decreation.”
Simon Critchley, Mysticism
“[T]o write is for a self to tell what it is to be without self, to achieve unity or indistinction with God, a ravishing merging with the thing itself, the complete disappearance of the individual will into the matter of thinking. To write mystically (or maybe just to write well) is and can only be to submit to, to give oneself fully to, a desire to disappear from the writing, to extinguish or annihilate oneself.”
Simon Critchley, Mysticism
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Here we go mother on the shipless ocean. Pity us, pity the ocean, here we go.
― Anne Carson, from "Sleepchains" in Decreation: Poetry, Essays, Opera (Alfred A. Knopf, 2005)
