Reading Rainbow

I’ve been doing some traveling lately, which has given me the opportunity to read lots and lots. I finished my second Jack Gilbert book, Refusing Heaven. In the title poem, Gilbert talks about going to church on a winter morning. He sees the old women dressed in black and recognizes that they are closer to God than him. They make him feel as though he has “an unusable soul.” But, he understands that to choose their path would be to reject all that he’s been through. Instead, he reflects on his life- what he is and where he’s been- and concludes, “The silver is worn down to the brass underneath/and is the better for it.” It begs the profound question: under what circumstances, if any, would you refuse heaven?

The collection reads like an old man, seeing his life flash before his eyes, asking himself if it was worth it. It’s truly remarkable to see which events a person in such a position would chose to consider. The book is phenomenal. Here are some highlights:

I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
But just coming to the end of his triumph.

**

(as he stands before a panel of gods)
What do you want?
A blonde one asks. To keep what I already have, I say. You ask
Too much, he says sternly. Then you are at peace, she says. I am not at peace, I tell her. I want to fail. I am hungry for what I am becoming.

**

Ginsberg came to my house one afternoon
And said he was giving up poetry
Because it told lies, that language distorts.
I agreed, but asked what we have
That gets it right even that much.
We look up at the stars and they are
not there. We see the memory
of when they were, once upon a time.
And that too is more than enough.

**

Also, Amazon has looked over the books I’ve purchased and, quite incredibly, recommended that I buy Donkey Gospel by Tony Hoagland. Mind you, I've never bought a book from them about donkeys or gospels. It appears that a book that I would otherwise be interested in carries that title. Unbelievable. Here’s a sample.

Finally, I picked up Stephen Dobyns’ Velocities in part because his cover art was from my favorite artist, Mark Rothko. So far so good. I’ll post an excerpt shortly.

Speaking of Mark Rothko, when I was back in NY, I hit up the Modern Museum of Art. It was my first visit since the recent re-design. I was disappointed that they only had one of his works on display. They had this special exhibit on ‘obscured perspectives,’ which I found pretty interesting. Part of it was a large black room with about 50 flat screen tv’s hanging from the ceiling. Around the perimeter of the room were a few cutouts that functioned like port holes, with a view into the adjoining room. Through the little peep hole, you could see all these amazing works of arts – including one of my favorite Rothko’s. But to see it, you had to crane your neck and twist and turn to see through the little hole. Even then, you could only see part of each of the works. I found, however, that I appreciated the work more because I had to work so hard to barely catch a glimpse. Interesting.

Here’s what’s neat about participatory art: for a brief moment, my struggle against obscurity was on display at one of the world’s greatest museums for all my fellow patrons to behold and appreciate. Little ole me was a work of art!

I also started “Everything and Nothing” by Jorge Luis Borges. My ipod recommended I read it. I was listening to this Mike Doughty song, “Grey Ghost.” As the title was scrolling across the screen I noticed the following, “(Here's the hidden message: Eat your greens. Read Everything and Nothing by Borges. Thanks for listening. Mike.).” Honestly, if one of my favorite musicians is going through the trouble of encoding a secret message into his itune, I owe it to him to check it out. As fate would have it, the book isn’t stocked at any of the local bookstores. I happened to find a copy at a random Borders in Mt. Kisco, NY.