09-02-2014, 10:32 AM
A sweet, gentle and rather old fashioned ode to melancholy, dissatisfaction and the power of dreams. It took me a couple of reads to firmly establish the narrative in my head, but I think I've got it now. The dream sequence that makes up verse 2 seems comprised of familiar images (teachers, blackboards etc.) and cosy turns of phrase ("I remember students/can play teacher"), which neatly and subtly evokes the comforting nature of the dreams, which are then contrasted with stark reality, as represented by clinical terms like "bladder". All in all, a tidy, well-arranged and moving poetic narrative. Thank you for the read
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe