Actually what it sounds like is that she is an experienced woman and he lost his virginity to her.
Bingo!
Actually what it sounds like is that she is an experienced woman and he lost his virginity to her.
Bingo!
Beware of the man with just one book. -Ovid
The man who doesn't read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them.- Mark Twain
My Blog: Of Delicious Recoil
http://stlukesguild.tumblr.com/
And then when he says, "O gentle one, to honor what is gone," I take what is gone to be her virginity or actually perhaps his.
Or perhaps it "merely" refers to the love... what they once had or shared... which is now gone.
O gentle one, to honor what is gone
your dress is chirping
like a snowdrop to April:
"It's good to see you!"
The image of the dress chirping is almost surreal... but then again the very word "chirping" suggests the joyous singing of birds... which seems repeated in the image of the snowdrop speaking to the arrival of April and spring. Again, I think that Pasternak anchors his poems in very real experiences: people, places, things... but through the intensity of the experience... his memories... his passions... these experiences are seen in an almost magical manner. At the most literal I can imagine the poet referring to an actual dress that this woman has left behind which to his mind almost sings to him like a bird in Spring churning up memories in him of "what is gone": their passion/love. The more I read it the less I think it is intended as about something so "vulgar" as a simple one night stand with an older "whore".
Beware of the man with just one book. -Ovid
The man who doesn't read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them.- Mark Twain
My Blog: Of Delicious Recoil
http://stlukesguild.tumblr.com/
Rented Rooms, I would think can only refer to prostitutes. Then the line about the her not being a virgin, though that is true, tries to suggest that she is somehow purer, and more substantial, by contrasting her with the prostitutes at the beginning. What I meant by the virgin/whore dichotomy, is that Pasternak is juxtaposing the notions, to try and make the girlfriend/addressee seem cleaner, and their relationship more religious/spiritual/love-based.
I do wish to get to the poem Quasi posted, The Steppe. I find this a emarkable poem and perhaps the best I've read in the collecton. Here it is again. There are ten stanzas in al, and I've eliminated the 9th.
I'll give some thoughts on this later. If anyone wants that 8th stanza, just let me know and I'll PM it to you.The Steppe
How lovely those walks into silence!
The steppe wide and quiet, like a bay,
Feathergrass sighs. Ants shimmer.
And mosquitoes wail.
Haystacks and clouds form a row
darkening the singed ochre volcanoes.
The steppe, hushed and wet, goes on
rocking, nudging, pushing,
Haystack in midst? Who can tell?
Is it a tent? Closer, closer: yes!
Found it at last! Our very own tent.
The steppe and fog on all four sides.
Fog walls us in on all four sides.
Thistles clutch and tug at our socks.
It's eerie to wade across the steppe
rocked, nudged, and pushed.
The Milky Way lays a path to Kerch,
like a dusty cattletrodden road.
Step out--it takes your breath away--
space--open--all four sides!
Feathergrass, honey, reveries, fog.
Feathergrass scattered over the Milky Way.
The fog lifts, and darkness surrounds
the tent and steppe on all four sides.
Midnight stands darkly on the road,
and burdened by stars, tumbles down.
You can't step beyond your fence
without trampling the universe.
......[SNIP].......
Let the steppe judge. Let the night forgive,
when and when not: In the Beginning
The Wailing of the Mosquitoes, Rustling of Ants,
And Thistles Clutching at Socks.
Close the tent, love! There's too much dust!
The steppe's as pure as before the Fall:
wrapped in the universe like a parachute,
like an apparition, rising.
LET THERE BE LIGHT
"Love follows knowledge." – St. Catherine of Siena
My literature blog: http://ashesfromburntroses.blogspot.com/
I'm lost there - I cant seem to make out what he's trying to say at all - mind advancing this a little bit? The steppe seems to be achieving a sort of pastoral in silence, and perhaps solitude, amongst the expansive grassland, yet the ending seems very unclear to me, please, if you don't mind, send me the snip - as it is, I can hardly make much sense of the conclusion.Originally Posted by Virgil
Last edited by JBI; 02-13-2009 at 04:37 PM.
Yes I would like to have the 8th stanza
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. ~ Edgar Allan Poe
Hold on, I'll post my thoughts tonight. I had forgotten about this. Sorry.
Ok, I think I can put the 8th stanza here. I can always deletee it if someone objects.
When did stars grow so close to the ground,
and midnight dive into weeds,
and sopping muslin shiver,
clinging, cuddling, craving the end?
Last edited by Virgil; 02-14-2009 at 12:13 AM.
LET THERE BE LIGHT
"Love follows knowledge." – St. Catherine of Siena
My literature blog: http://ashesfromburntroses.blogspot.com/
I typed the 8th stanza inside my previous post above.
Ok, here some thoughts and observations on "The Steppe." First the situation is the narrator and I think his lover are walking on the steppe in the fog, apparently lost and trying to find their tent. There is an aura about, the images of things seem to come in and out and have a special glow, feathergrass, ants, mosquitoes. He ties a religious connotation to the visual imagery; nature is numinous, and I think that's the theme. That culminates in the 9th stanza:
"Judge," "forgive," "in the beginning" all suggest it.Let the steppe judge. Let the night forgive,
when and when not: In the Beginning
The Wailing of the Mosquitoes, Rustling of Ants,
And Thistles Clutching at Socks.
But what I find remarkable in thepoem is the aesthetics. The frst four stanza he establishes the situation, a strong visual focus straight ahead. The steppe is a flat plane and the narrator trying to see through ahead and there is fog walling that plane up. And then in the fifth stanza he looks up and sees another plane.
The sky becomes a parallel plane to the steppe, and is a path in itself, and what a marvelous image of the "cattletrodden road," the stars apparently hoof prints, and the adjective dusty returns in the tenth stanza with a lot more power. There is a sort of vertigo here, as if he's flipped up and is walking on a sky road.The Milky Way lays a path to Kerch,
like a dusty cattletrodden road.
Step out--it takes your breath away--
space--open--all four sides!
And then the two planes, the sky and ground planes, merge in the seventh and eighth stanzas as the sky falls down to meet the ground. And then you get the religious connotation and then the tenth stanza becomes a marvelous image of the steppe rising up to the heavens as the fog lifts. The steppe,accentuated by the rising fog, itself becomes a "parachute," gliding upwards, an inversion of gravity. The laws of nature are in flux in this numinous environment, earth is rising to the heavens.
What a marvelous, top notch poem this is!!
LET THERE BE LIGHT
"Love follows knowledge." – St. Catherine of Siena
My literature blog: http://ashesfromburntroses.blogspot.com/
I'll try to post some thoughts tomorrow, Virg. Or perhaps Sunday... tomorrow IS Valentine's Day and the wife might be understandably miffed if I spend all evening discussing Pasternak after spending the day trying to finish up the latest painting in the studio.
Beware of the man with just one book. -Ovid
The man who doesn't read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them.- Mark Twain
My Blog: Of Delicious Recoil
http://stlukesguild.tumblr.com/
Yeah, I hear ya. I got one myself.I'll try to post some thoughts tomorrow, Virg. Or perhaps Sunday... tomorrow IS Valentine's Day and the wife might be understandably miffed if I spend all evening discussing Pasternak after spending the day trying to finish up the latest painting in the studio.
LET THERE BE LIGHT
"Love follows knowledge." – St. Catherine of Siena
My literature blog: http://ashesfromburntroses.blogspot.com/
Bump! If no one has any more comments on The Steppe, I will be glad to post another.
LET THERE BE LIGHT
"Love follows knowledge." – St. Catherine of Siena
My literature blog: http://ashesfromburntroses.blogspot.com/
Post on Virgil...
Last edited by quasimodo1; 02-20-2009 at 04:27 PM.
Virgil... sorry I haven't gotten back on track here. I would still like to post on The Steppe... marvelous poem... but I am extremely tied up right now. The crappy economy is hitting me as well and so I'm pulling some overtime acting as the coordinator for an after-school peer tutoring program. Lots of paperwork.However... don't let me hold you up. Post away...
Beware of the man with just one book. -Ovid
The man who doesn't read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them.- Mark Twain
My Blog: Of Delicious Recoil
http://stlukesguild.tumblr.com/
No problem StLukes. I'll post another poem tomorrow and you can comment on any one you wish.Virgil... sorry I haven't gotten back on track here. I would still like to post on The Steppe... marvelous poem... but I am extremely tied up right now. The crappy economy is hitting me as well and so I'm pulling some overtime acting as the coordinator for an after-school peer tutoring program. Lots of paperwork.
LET THERE BE LIGHT
"Love follows knowledge." – St. Catherine of Siena
My literature blog: http://ashesfromburntroses.blogspot.com/
Well, here's a new poem to discuss. I found it very interesting. There are seven stanzas, and I snipped the fourth.
Summer
It brought an entourage of thirst,
stingers, butterflies, and stains,
weaving tapestries from its memory
of mayflower, mint, and honey.
Not the ticking of clocks
but the day-long jangle of chains
pierced the air with drowsy thorns
and cast a spell on the weather.
It happened - the sunset,
tired of games, passed
dominion over the kitchen garden
to cicadas, stars, and trees.
[SNIP]
More from dreams than from eaves,
more absent minded than timid,
the light rain shuffled at the door
and smelled of wine-cork.
That's how the dust smelled. And the weeds.
And once you got the point,
that's how the gentry's decrees smelled:
of brotherhood, equality.
They installed councils in the provinces.
Did you, friend, cast your lot with them?
Days glittered in the sorrel,
and smelled of wine-cork.
Last edited by Virgil; 02-28-2009 at 11:35 PM.
LET THERE BE LIGHT
"Love follows knowledge." – St. Catherine of Siena
My literature blog: http://ashesfromburntroses.blogspot.com/
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