Showing posts with label loneliness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label loneliness. Show all posts

Monday, 29 September 2014

Under Repairs - An Upgrade


PORTUGUESE
LISBON

Eduardo Lourenço is perhaps Portugal’s most distinguished literary critic. Pessoa is “an exception, being a great writer,” he said the other afternoon. “But he had a way of being that is distinctly Portuguese.” He paused to find the right words. “It has to do with everything and nothing — that we Portuguese can have everything, but still feel we have nothing.”

Portugal, he explained, had discovered half the world by the 16th century but still felt itself a failure for having not discovered the rest. The national mind-set, Mr. Lourenço said, is “a combination of megalomania and humility.”

“Also Pessoa was a loner,” he went on, “one of the great poets to express absolute loneliness — some of his poems are so sad they are difficult to read, which is very Portuguese. Listen to fado.” He was referring to the music that here connotes “saudade,” a nearly untranslatable word meaning homesickness but also something more, something, he suggested, like paradise lost.

in Michael Kimmelman's article for the NYT, Portugal Holds on to Words Few Can Grasp.


Sunday, 24 April 2005

One Plus One Plus One

(for Antonio Lopes, a friend in cyberspace)

By J.S. Porter

___________________________________

In the paintings of Marc Chagall
and the movies of Emir Kusturica,
no one dances alone,
or drinks alone.
One is always one
plus.

The world swarms, swirls
and sticks.

The bride has her groom.
A beautiful woman has her village.
The musicians, accordion Gypsy
or fiddler Jew,
have their instruments.

And animals –
roosters, chickens, cats, dogs,
donkeys, doves, horses, ducks –
crow, cluck, meow, bark,
bray, coo, neigh, quack
in the chitter-chattering no-one's-
ever-alone universe.
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