Thursday, July 26, 2012

The thing has to be able to work



Almost a cacophony of contradiction
in this iconoclastic romp, knowing
or not, the tiresome load of which 
is palpable in every footfall of the 
archaic loafer from the billowing re-
dundantly cuffed proletarian trouser:
if you think dressing is expression,
and who doesn't, you're hoping there
is bathing at the foot of the stairs.




Because, at the end of the day, it
isn't the risible miscolouring of
Hanover against the cheek of the 
Dei Sub Numine Viget seal beneath
the paisley pocket square against
the rowdy plaid laid into a teal
hoodie with strings that don't
draw, never mentioning the waist-
line in which you cannot bicycle.
No, my good fellow, it isn't a-
bout those things at all.


It isn't, is it, Telemachus? It's
about the honour of the house, in
your time to look after it.


Homer makes us think: this is
what they're doing here, with
Odysseus away: arousing anxiety
for the heir based on the vul-
garity of their direction, which
is not ignorant, but deliberate
in inciting this protective res-
ponse. 


At other times, we do the same
thing, because it is about one's
being out there, drawing the heat,
Athena says:


Few sons are the equal of 
their fathers;
most fall short, all too few
surpass them.
But you, brave and adept from
this day on -
Odysseus' cunning has hardly
given out in you -
there's every hope that you
will reach your goal. 










Homer
The Odyssey
  Book ii, 309 - 313
Robert Fagles, translation
Viking, 1996©


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