9 Comments

Beautiful, Spencer. Beatrice, Laura, Sophie. Soul-piercing beauty in the flesh that disappears into the past and then, once gone, is chased after into the future through art. The love Yeats had for Maude Gonne; how she incarnated a passion that was shot through with age old archetypes. Blok with his Beautiful Lady along with his Russia as wayward prostitute. Poets do this; they put themselves out there. “Great” poetry is gone; it’s no longer possible for one individual to lift up the entire culture through the music of his language. But perhaps something “great” will still take its place. One waits.

Expand full comment

Yes, we “wait”. That yearnful hope that animates us all. An innocent yet familiar hope that makes life bearable without which humanity fizzles away.

Expand full comment

…”Novalis hoped to recover in a redeemed future what he had lost too soon in a tragic past.”

I suspect all of us, or most, have something or someone we lost, somewhere in the past, and we hope to see once again on the other side of life: a person, a beloved family pet—something. I know I do. More than one.

Expand full comment

I always have to read these letter twice. The first time gives me a feeling, like its talking to my soul and the second time to understand the words, like it's talking to my mind.

Expand full comment

Beautifully said. And I so hope you’re right.

Expand full comment

Something to look forward to.🩷

Expand full comment

Palimsest indeed!

Expand full comment

Be patient and wait? 🤔

Expand full comment

Das ewig Weibliche zieht uns hinan!

Expand full comment