Cantos 7


Truth be told I kept forgetting what canto I was at – and I delayed at making known this uncertain situation.

Eleanor and two other e-words in ancient greek – epsilon. Why are the marble columns false? The marble is false – not the columns – or the entire structure. How is it a theater set? Is it a tromp l’oil, a veneer, a painting, paintings an illusion sometimes. Painting is anti matter – it is decomposed matter -pulverised matter and then cooked into something else – paint – to create an illusion of something else- when it is just rock dust on a flat surface. I have been thinking painting is about geometry, and now, topology. But perhaps painting is really about geology and chemistry and cooking.

Cantos 7 and 8 is about none of these things. We start with the ancients – Homer, Ovid, Dante (less ancient), we move from mythic storytellers to an empty home with ghosts. A friend says I have a ghost- that I am haunted – I have a Dybbuk. Hauntology is a new field of philosophy invented by Derrida.

There are no sounds in this house, no knockers on the door, no story tellers. There are lots of images though – a lintel – a low ceiling – four chairs -a cloth sunk top “The scarlet curtan throws a less scarlet shadow,” This sentence makes no sense, but s-es, the sibilene sneak. “And her moving heIght went before me,” I love this image – moving height. heavy height static flight, tall hole, heavy hole, moving cavern, moving castle. I love sentences that start with AND -when there are a few of them – and when they are written by a famous poet. “Words lIke the locust-shells, moved by no inner being,” “Square even shoulders and the satin skin,”

I read “Lies heavy in my arms, dead weight” It copies as “LIes heavy m my arms, dead we1ght” I misread it as “Legs heavy in my arms, right wraith.” “mooning” mooming mooing booming mawing yawning beijing because we have random injections of china.

“LIfe to make mock of motIon For the husks, before me, move,” This makes me sad – is it always true? No

And this is me

“Eternal watcher of things, Of things, of men, of paSSIOns Eyes floating in dry, dark alr,”

Eternal watcher of air, atmosphere floating leaves and branches and still shadows

This canto feels like a lacuna a cesura a pause a silence a rest so I am going to stop. I was going to read Cantos 7 and 8 but I Can-not (get it) I only am doing 7.

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