Love in a hut, with water and a crust,
Is–Love forgive us!–cinders, ashes, dust;
Love in a palace is perhaps at last
More grievous torment than a hermit’s fast: (Keats’ “Lamia,” Part II li.1-4)
Is it true? Are we doomed to grievance either way? Palace or hut, true love or chivalric lust? And then what of Mr. Marvell’s “To his Coy Mistress?” Is the grave indeed a place where lovers will no longer find embrace? I say, “Embrace ye thy Wormy Circumstance!”
Personally, I enjoy the virtue-lined love-hut with water and a crust. Either way, it speaks to the human need for the unattainable–for our need to have dreams that transcend the best reality possible for us. Is the idea of hut love so incendiary to Keats, that it burns the hut down, and is therefore unsustainable? It burns too fast, too quickly, while love in a palace is an image of over-indulgence/gluttony, and finally boredom?
Right now, I am dreaming of transcendence from the reality that the cleaning fairy does not exist. The few maid services that I tried out while on bed rest were possibly the worst way to spend money, and made me feel just awful, so I was really counting on the cleaning fairy to work out. For some reason, I wouldn’t feel badly about a fairy cleaning my home, especially if it gets to go back home to some verdant forest glade where it can whisper terrible things into the ears of the river trout. Let’s face it, fairies just aren’t very nice…so, there’s my justification for having them clean for me. Oh, and the green one in my cabinet is still there. Any takers?
I am getting geared up to read Sally X’s suggested Bakhtin book. Not one who enjoys theorists very much, I am going to make a valiant effort to chew, swallow, and fully digest that book–in between bites of Tom Stoppard (whom, thanks to Dr. Wiley, I have decided I adore), “His Dark Materials,” “Waterland,” and “Staying Put,” “Beowulf,” and Susan Jackoby’a “The Age of American Unreason” (Apologies for the quotation marks, as there appears to be no way to underline here), and loads and loads of writing.
So, in regards to the Keats’ wormy circumstances, we still speak from beyond the grave, if we have been active members of society or if we have been lechers, sociopaths, or axe-murdering cheerleaders. I wonder, what the circumstances were for the couple above, that is, prior to the introduction of worms. Was their love in a hut, or a palace? It is a good thing that Marvell’s mistress never had access to the interweb! That is, assuming his poem worked its magic on the lady…or she would have waited forever for her perfect worm-worthy love. Then again, I have no idea about the relationship of the skellies. I could look, but for the same reasons that I don’t want the Lochness monster to be proved or disproved, I would rather keep my ideas and not have them occluded by such things as facts.
What good would it be to be human and not have aspirations that were far too high to ever reach? I guess that’s what all of this means. Right now I am also reaching for a nanny that will live in my hut and watch the boys, while I write, for a crust and water. Sam is leaving us to study abroad…I am distraught.
Sad dog,
Pru.
P.S. Not sure if this picture is what inspired Ed Bain, but you should visit his site just the same. http://darkartsmedia.com/DevilsTrampingGround.com.html
