Great Cathedrals, George Bilgere
Before a date, my college roommate
Used to drive his candy-apple red Camaro
Down to the car wash and spend the afternoon
Washing, waxing, vacuuming it,
Detailing the chrome strips, buffing the fenders,
Spraying the big expensive tires
With their raised white lettering
That said something like Intruder
Or Marauder, with a silicone spray
Until they were slick and dark as sex.
He polished that car as if each caress,
Each pass of the chamois, each loving
Stroke of the terry cloth would increase,
By measurable degrees,
The likelihood that in the immaculate
Front seat, with its film of freshly applied
Vinyl cleaner, at the end of a cul-de-sac
Somewhere above the campus,
She would consent to be rubbed
And buffed just as lovingly.
We do what we can,
And if God is no more impressed
By the cathedral at Chartres
Than by a righteously clean and cherry
Camaro, at least He can't say
We haven't tried
With all our might to conceal our fear
That we have little else to offer
Than stained glass or polished chrome,
The elbow grease of our good intentions.
So I'm happy to see
That in the Christmas card photo he sent
Mark stands, balding now,
With a dignified gut, a pretty wife,
And a couple of nice-looking kids, in front
Of the great cathedral
Like the sweet vision of a future
He'd been vouchsafed one day
Long ago, through Turtle Wax
On a gleaming hubcap.
Friday, 18 July 2008
LoS
so, "lives of the saints" by nancy lehman is totally set to be one of my life's greatest loves. yay. time for some excerpts!
1.
"There's a famous line in a story where there is this married couple and it is observed about them that she had none of the world's dark magic for him, but he couldn't live without her for six consecutive hours. My feeling for Claude was like the reverse: I could live without his presence – as I had just done, when I was away at college – for a whole duration of years between the ages of seventeen and twenty-two. But he had the world's dark magic.
I don't expect him to be near, I mean. He can probably live without me for six consecutive hours. It would not matter to me if I only saw him three times in five years – and it will still be with the understanding that if there are people like that in the world, then there is honour, for here was a fellow whom you could depend on to be kind as a steadfast, incorruptible rule."
2.
"He politely watched me while I read the newspaper, which he'd brought. He did not speak. He had an air of observant logic, just watching me read.
"My eyes are killing me," I said. "I read like a fiend."
"Well, read like an angel," he said mildly, not taking his eyes off my face. "you're too interested in glamour," he said suddenly. "You socialize too much. You go out too much. You stay out too late. You drink too much. You should just be a simple, regular person. You should go to bed at eleven every night. You should just come home from work and cook, do the dishes, and just be a regular person. You shouldn't eat Carnation Instant Breakfast."
I received these stunning recommendations in silence. Then I said, "You're the one who needs that advice."
"No, no, I'm just a regular, normal guy. Who leads a regular life."
"Oh God."
"It's youth – it's just youth," he said looking at me, mild and unintelligible.
"What is?"
"Your behaviour."
"What behaviour?"
"You're so young!" he raved. "You're so innocent," he said. "How have you really been? I haven't really known, these past few years,, when you were away at school. I heard you had a breakdown," he added in a kind voice, solicitous but cheerful, as though it interested him especially. "Breakdowns?" he said. "Tell me about your breakdowns. That's what we're all about down here," he said. "Breakdowns.""
3.
""I've been hearing some things about Claude," Mr. Stewart said to Mr. Collier. "I hear he's been spending a lot of his time at the racetrack."
"Claude is not using his abilities," said Mr. Collier. Mr. Collier turned an eye of amused benevolence on his son Claude. Mr. Collier had a soft spot for Wastrel Youth. In fact, it was one of his favourtie episodes in life. He always said - trying to get the lingo, in his dignified old age - that the young people should "find themselves."
"I'd like to see that boy at the law school, Louis."
"He's finding himself, Walter," said Mr. Collier, ecstatic. He loved wastrel youths, but he loved his sons to a degree approaching beatitude. The combination - his sons plus wastrel youth - was almost too much for him."
1.
"There's a famous line in a story where there is this married couple and it is observed about them that she had none of the world's dark magic for him, but he couldn't live without her for six consecutive hours. My feeling for Claude was like the reverse: I could live without his presence – as I had just done, when I was away at college – for a whole duration of years between the ages of seventeen and twenty-two. But he had the world's dark magic.
I don't expect him to be near, I mean. He can probably live without me for six consecutive hours. It would not matter to me if I only saw him three times in five years – and it will still be with the understanding that if there are people like that in the world, then there is honour, for here was a fellow whom you could depend on to be kind as a steadfast, incorruptible rule."
2.
"He politely watched me while I read the newspaper, which he'd brought. He did not speak. He had an air of observant logic, just watching me read.
"My eyes are killing me," I said. "I read like a fiend."
"Well, read like an angel," he said mildly, not taking his eyes off my face. "you're too interested in glamour," he said suddenly. "You socialize too much. You go out too much. You stay out too late. You drink too much. You should just be a simple, regular person. You should go to bed at eleven every night. You should just come home from work and cook, do the dishes, and just be a regular person. You shouldn't eat Carnation Instant Breakfast."
I received these stunning recommendations in silence. Then I said, "You're the one who needs that advice."
"No, no, I'm just a regular, normal guy. Who leads a regular life."
"Oh God."
"It's youth – it's just youth," he said looking at me, mild and unintelligible.
"What is?"
"Your behaviour."
"What behaviour?"
"You're so young!" he raved. "You're so innocent," he said. "How have you really been? I haven't really known, these past few years,, when you were away at school. I heard you had a breakdown," he added in a kind voice, solicitous but cheerful, as though it interested him especially. "Breakdowns?" he said. "Tell me about your breakdowns. That's what we're all about down here," he said. "Breakdowns.""
3.
""I've been hearing some things about Claude," Mr. Stewart said to Mr. Collier. "I hear he's been spending a lot of his time at the racetrack."
"Claude is not using his abilities," said Mr. Collier. Mr. Collier turned an eye of amused benevolence on his son Claude. Mr. Collier had a soft spot for Wastrel Youth. In fact, it was one of his favourtie episodes in life. He always said - trying to get the lingo, in his dignified old age - that the young people should "find themselves."
"I'd like to see that boy at the law school, Louis."
"He's finding himself, Walter," said Mr. Collier, ecstatic. He loved wastrel youths, but he loved his sons to a degree approaching beatitude. The combination - his sons plus wastrel youth - was almost too much for him."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)