10-13-2021, 06:21 PM (This post was last modified: 10-19-2021, 04:55 PM by RiverNotch.)
Tristesse
The reaction is purely physiological
in nature. You may find yourself
tremble then go limp
warm and red: think
nothing of it if
you can think at all. Thinking
comes from experience -- eventually
you won't be able to help
but think -- which is why we advise
you try to think nothing
of it. Some people make
small talk marking
the weather or
the traffic.
Some people smoke.
Stare at the ceiling perhaps, contemplate
its spareness, white
graded by shadow. Absorb the light
diffusing through the curtain. Your body
is the room, your heart the bed,
your eyes and skin the curtain and the window: is it not
a part of nature to spark, to sizzle,
to heat up red
then white, to discharge
particulate matter
when ignited?
Only when you switch
on a light, when you drag yourself from the sheets
and open the door to the hall, does it become
something else.
The reaction is purely physiological
in nature. You may find yourself
tremble then go limp
warm and red: think
nothing of it if
you can think at all. Thinking
comes from experience -- eventually
you won't be able to help
but think -- which is why we advise
you try to think nothing
of it. Some people make
small talk marking
the weather or
the traffic.
Some people smoke.
Stare at the ceiling perhaps, contemplate
its spareness, white
graded by shadow. Absorb the light
diffusing through the curtain. Your body
is the room, your heart the bed,
your eyes and skin the curtain and the window: is it not
a part of nature to spark, to sizzle,
to grow hot, to glow red
then white, to discharge
particulate matter
when ignited?
Only when you switch
on a light, when you drag yourself from the sheets
and open the door to the hall, does it become
something else.
The reaction is purely physiological
in nature. You may find yourself
tremble then go limp
warm and red: think
nothing of it if
you can think at all. Thinking
comes from experience -- eventually
you won't be able to help
but think -- which is why we advise. …. The narrator is an enigmatic character in the background. I’m thinking the doctors of A Clockwork Orange
you try to think nothing
of it. Some people make
small talk marking
the weather or
the traffic.
Some people smoke.
Stare at the ceiling perhaps, contemplate
its spareness, white. ….. “spare ceiling” is a bit of a cliche
graded by shadow. Absorb the light
diffusing through the curtain. Your body
is the room, your heart the bed, ….. I love the gradual unwrapping of the lines. Beautiful.
your eyes and skin the curtain and the window: is it not
a part of nature to spark, to sizzle,
to grow hot, to glow red …. One too many "to”s?
then white, to discharge
particulate matter
when ignited? ….. particulate matter doesn’t resemble tears, if that’s the analogy
Only when you switch
on a light, when you drag yourself from the sheets
and open the door to the hall, does it become
something else. ….. oh man. This is a bombshell.
The poem builds to a beautiful climax.
S2 is far superior to S1. The beginning could be better..
Overall, great work
The reaction is purely physiological
in nature. You may find yourself
tremble then go limp
warm and red: think I'm wondering what causes a person to tremble before going warm and red? And how do these things indicate a sadness in the subject? Maybe I'm taking these lines too literal?
nothing of it if
you can think at all. Thinking
comes from experience -- eventually
you won't be able to help
but think -- which is why we advise
you try to think nothing
of it. Some people make
small talk marking
the weather or
the traffic. I would make this line and the one above just one line. It doesn't seem important on its own
Some people smoke.
Stare at the ceiling perhaps, contemplate I feel like you could bump contemplate down to the next line. It doesn't seem to serve any purpose at the end of this one
its spareness, white
graded by shadow. Absorb the light
diffusing through the curtain. Your body
is the room, your heart the bed,
your eyes and skin the curtain and the window: is it not
a part of nature to spark, to sizzle,
to grow hot, to glow red
then white, to discharge
particulate matter
when ignited? I'm having a difficult time understanding why this question is being asked. It seems obvious that it's about igniting a flame, but over the course of this poem I have had a hard time understanding how fire relates to the themes of this poem
Only when you switch
on a light, when you drag yourself from the sheets Unless the light is a bedside lamp, maybe the sequence should go that the subject leaves the bed first
and open the door to the hall, does it become "It" seems a little unclear here, I can only guess you are referring to the room? In which case I think that makes for a nice ending. I think part of the reason this seemed unclear to me is because of the long question that came before this sentence, containing nothing about the room metaphors at the beginning of this stanza
something else.
Something radical that I would suggest is that you cut the first stanza from the poem entirely. The concept of the last stanza feels much stronger and I think it would have a much more interesting opening line. The first stanza feels too cerebral especially in contrast with the next stanza. If this is what was intended, then the next unanswered question I have is why? There could be a multitude of answers, but none of them are clearly conveyed through the poem. Maybe you could find a different title for an opportunity to better convey that answer?
Thanks for the read. Slight edit per busker's note on line 23. I agree with Alex that the title needs to be changed, I'm just not sure to what. Spoiler ahead.
The thread was originally titled "Guilt", but at the last minute I changed it to something a little less on the nose -- perhaps too off the nose. The "Tristesse" here (such an interesting and weirdly underused word, tristesse) is specifically Post-coital tristesse, but as noted that reference is too soft or oblique to work.
Suggestions for a new title, as per the spoiler -- again, read it at yer own risk xD -- are humbly solicited.
Am I off mark, or is this poem all about masturbation (go limp, white, to discharge, etc)? Maybe sex, but there's no mention of a partner, and well masturbation lends itself more to sad and melancholy. Something about the differences between the natural and societal? How in and of itself these things are totally I guess innocent in a way, or the question of innocence or any other question isn't on the table at all when the lights are off, if I understand your metaphor. It's the sort of poem that feels like it comes largely from a conceptualization as opposed to an experienced moment, and In that way it may run the risk of being vague. I thought it was well done, not a lot of superfluous words, and a certain rhythm to the enjambment. I guess I'm longing for more specifics. I trust the narrator as an authority, but than at the end I think, but hey isnt this really about you. I prefer the second stanza to the first.
(10-13-2021, 06:21 PM)RiverNotch Wrote: Tristesse /trēˈstes/ N. a state of melancholy sadness.
The reaction is purely physiological The question is... What reaction?? The reaction is purely physiological in nature, in society maybe its something else? A bit of a contrast already with the title which seems less physiological.
in nature. You may find yourself
tremble then go limp
warm and red: think
nothing of it if
you can think at all. Thinking
comes from experience -- eventually
you won't be able to help
but think -- which is why we advise
you try to think nothing
of it. Some people make
small talk marking
the weather or
the traffic.
Some people smoke. Its funny, the whole stanza really. Especially the part about advising you to try to think nothing of it, and the last two lines. Its a little clever and witty there, and in the end a little dark, or as the title suggest, melancholy. The tone reminded me of the few Yorgos Lanthimos film I've seen... idk if you know his work. IF anything, I think I felt like I was lacking a little footing, I read it a few times and it made me feel dumb.
Stare at the ceiling perhaps, contemplate
its spareness, white
graded by shadow. Absorb the light
diffusing through the curtain. Your body
is the room, your heart the bed,
your eyes and skin the curtain and the window: is it not The first half of this stanza here is my favorite bit of the poem, It reads like a Buddhist exorcise or something, is it? I like the heart bed and eye/skin curtain/window... though when I thought too hard about it, idk if the eye/skin, curtain/window metaphor holds up as eyes feel more glass-like than skin which feels more curtain like, but thatd put the eye lids on the inside of the eyes. Too literal a read, maybe. These lines are tender, and allow me to conceptualize the body in a way I haven't before, a room to occupy things.
a part of nature to spark, to sizzle,
to heat up red
then white, to discharge
particulate matter
when ignited?
Only when you switch
on a light, when you drag yourself from the sheets
and open the door to the hall, does it become
something else.
The reaction is purely physiological
in nature. You may find yourself
tremble then go limp
warm and red: think
nothing of it if
you can think at all. Thinking
comes from experience -- eventually
you won't be able to help
but think -- which is why we advise
you try to think nothing
of it. Some people make
small talk marking
the weather or
the traffic.
Some people smoke.
Stare at the ceiling perhaps, contemplate
its spareness, white
graded by shadow. Absorb the light
diffusing through the curtain. Your body
is the room, your heart the bed,
your eyes and skin the curtain and the window: is it not
a part of nature to spark, to sizzle,
to grow hot, to glow red
then white, to discharge
particulate matter
when ignited?
Only when you switch
on a light, when you drag yourself from the sheets
and open the door to the hall, does it become
something else.
