Monday, April 24, 2006

More Hughes/Ovid

I'm realizing that the myths themselves in this book are far more significant than the poetry, which is the point, of course. Although it is still a significant poetic achievement because the poetry is beautifully crafted to not overtake the power of the myth itself. And, in the best moments, it all aligns. For example, the description of Callisto (after she has been turned into a bear), seeing her son (Arcas) for the first time:


Out of the long grass his mother
Reared upright to face him,
Standing tall to see him better, fearless,
As if she recognised him. She recognised him.
Arcas backed slowly, mouth dry,
Terror, three parts wisdom, staring

Fixedly at the eyes that stared at him.


The fact that the mother is a bear here allows an expression of something that is not usually possible when mother and son are of the same species. Here, the always ultimate DIFFERENCE of a mother from her son, one which every mother tries (often in vain) to shed, is expressed physically. So the slowly-dawning recognition is chilling and touching in that it overcomes and sees through the obvious bodily divide. However, the reason this passage means something to the reader is that he can see in it a truth of every mother-son relationship: the point at which the mother and son realize they are different species, but finally understand the common bit of a soul that will always bind them.

But, as in life, the recognition is a threat as well - to both parties.

Does the line "Terror, three parts wisdom" mean that Arcas feels both terror AND three parts wisdom, or that Arcas feels pure terror, which is comprised of three parts wisdom? I think the latter makes the most sense - true terror is so heinous because it is laced with a truth that would have been better left uncovered.

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