Saturday, September 13, 2008

Thomas Traherne

Our discussion about Thomas Traherne’s “Wonder” was cut short due to the time limit of the class. However, Sushant brought up a new perspective that was both farfetched and strangely amusing. He remarked—probably with sarcasm-- that the narrator is undergoing midlife crisis. As a result, I was laughing: it was simply too difficult to take the poem seriously. By no means am I intentionally trying to insult people’s beliefs; it is just my temperament that caused me to view such religious zeal with cynicism.

The image I have in mind was not that of a man going through a panic attack. Instead, I see the narrator as someone who is undergoing a mushroom trip. I do not believe a man is capable of spontaneously bursting into such happiness. Instead, prior to such joy, he was under depression that prompted him to consume hallucinogenic mushrooms. The narrator mentions that “Harsh ragged objects were concealed; oppressions, tears, and cries… were hid” (ln.25-28). Similarly, he reiterated the disappearance of all unpleasant worldly troubles in the following passage: “Cursed and devised proprieties, with envy, avarice… flew from the splendor of mine eyes… I dreamed not aught of those” (ln.49-54). He does not dream (dream!) of these pains. Mushrooms induce hallucinations; they provide these “dreams.” Of course, the narrator could simply mean wishful thinking, but all his other senses betray this notion.

It seems that all things considered good just magically appear before the narrator. He claims that “Rich diamond and pearl and gold in every place was seen” (ln.41-42). Yet, not only do these valuable good appear before him, he claims that “proprieties themselves were mine” (ln.57). He repeats this notion by saying, “Clothes, ribbons, jewels, laces, I esteemed my joys by others worn” (ln.61-62). To sum it up, he suddenly becomes very rich and very generous. In return, he is praised. Fame, wealth, and power are sought after by men. He was able to obtain two, and only relinquishes one to God who is supposed to be the most powerful anyway. Surely he can’t be dreaming.

Yet, the most telling sign is the characteristic of mushroom consumption: he saw colors—lots of different colors. He described, with vivid details—“Rare splendors, yellow, blue, red, white, and green, mine eyes did everything behold” (ln.43-44). Excluding white-- which is every color combined—the remaining colors: red, blue, and green form the primary colors of light and red, blue, yellow form the primary color palette of artists. Needless to say, he was seeing a lot of different colors.

We can conclude, satirically, that the narrator is indeed high on mushroom. All evident, however distorted or taken out of context, points to the same verdict. So what now, Mr. I-am-happier-than-the-jovial-friars, ready to admit to eating hallucinogenic shrooms?

4 comments:

Harry said...

I enjoyed this post, because it offers a radical view point on the poem. I like how poems always leave room for interpretations, since it's an opportunity for the reader to be creative. This distinguishes poetry from other forms of writing,where authors merely state fact. Poetry can be anything you want it to be, including a documentation of a mushroom trip. Kudos.

Natalia said...

Harry wrote: "authors merely state fact."

I thought we'd established that this is difficult to do!

Harry said...

I used the word "Fact" in the sense that whatever an author says goes. Even if the author is analyzing, in the context of his/her work, the analysis is essentially fact. For example, you would not say in an essay: "I think that Thomas Traherne might have written this poem as a description of his mushroom trip."

Instead, you would phrase it something like this: "In this poem, Thomas Traherne describes his mushroom trip, because..." Even though this is merely an opinion, an author would state it as fact to prove a point.

Similarly, in a fiction book, if the author says "The dog grew wings and flew to the moon," this is the truth, within the context of the book. The reader cannot say, no, this is not possible; dogs cannot fly. As far as the book is concerned, the dog did fly to the moon; it is an undeniable fact.

Poets, however, do not state fact. They write in metaphor, and as a result, the reader is forced to interpret poetry. If you used the same approach to poetry as you would to other forms of writing, without interpreting, you might look at this poem and say "What a lucky guy this poet was, to have visited a place where the streets were paved in gold." And we both know this would be a completely idiotic statement, because poets do not state the truth. They speak in metaphor, and it is up to the reader to interpret the poets true meaning.

Whereas, if you applied the same logic to the previous fiction book, and said "Oh, there isn't actually a dog that can fly to the moon. The author was trying to say that he just ate a weed brownie and was high as a flying dog," you might get slapped by a kindergarten teacher for interpreting a children's book in such a sick manner. This is because the book was essentially written as fact; it was not intended for interpretation.

This is what I meant by the statement "Authors merely state fact."

Unknown said...

Could it be that he is looking at the world through the eyes of a child? Read his meditations: "Certainly Adam in Paradise had not more sweet and curious apprehensions of the world, than I when I was a child. All appeared new, and strange at first, inexpressibly rare and delightful and beautiful. I was a little stranger, which at my entrance into the world was saluted and surrounded with innumerable joys. My knowledge was Divine. . . . My very ignorance was advantageous. I seemed as one brought into the Estate of Innocence. All things were spotless and pure and glorious: yea, and infinitely mine, and joyful and precious. I knew not that there were any sins, or complaints or laws. I dreamed not of poverties, contentions or vices. All tears {325} and quarrels were hidden from mine eyes. Everything was at rest, free and immortal. I knew nothing of sickness or death or rents or exaction, either for tribute or bread. In the absence of these I was entertained like an Angel with the works of God in their splendour and glory, I saw all the peace of Eden."