[Blueiron]

appologies for the late reply. Life has a habbit of getting in the way of art

Here, as promised, are my thoughts on Stone Bowl

The poem:

Spoiler

I took the stone bowl
in both hands
and poured out my time
onto the ground
drowning hapless insects
feeding the weeds
until the sun stood
looking down
and stole the stain

Seeing in the vessel's cup
a thousands cracks
I looked back
the way I came
and saw a trail green
with memories lost
whoever made this bowl
was a fool but the greater
he who carried it Stone bowl

the analysis part one

Spoiler

Once again we have a poem built around an extended metaphor: the titular stone bowl. This poem, unlike The Bridges of the Sun, has two distinct stanzas, so I'll look at them individually, and then as a whole.

The first stanza starts with a little narrative line in first person, and, significantly, in past tense. We then learn that this bowl was full of "my time," and he was pouring it out like some kind of soup. This bowl, apparently, contained the sum (and finite) total of the narrator's time, and he's running out of it. The meaning thus far seems to be that the narrator is an old man, and is extremely conscious of it. Then it says that the time is drowning insects, and feeding weeds. Note this, as it'll come up in the second stanza. The image I have is this soupy stain hitting hard packed earth which eventually dries up when the sun dries it. Note, however, the personification of the sun, stealing the time. The sun is given an almost malevolent personality, as if it is to blame for the lost time. I think this has to do with looking for something to blame for lost time, but it might have to do also with growing the weeds. Again, we'll get to those weeds later.


So far in the first stanza: establishing the metaphor, and learning that the subject, apparently, is mortality.

part 2

Spoiler

Now Mr. narrator (who may be Fisher or someone that Fisher has, Lorax style, given a voice to) looks down in his bowl and sees it has cracks in it. This must mean that it is closer to emptier than before, otherwise he wouldn't be able to see them (unless you visualize time as clear, but I didn't, not sure why.) The way this line is told seems to imply to me that he only noticed the cracks then and there, and suddenly realized his bowl must have been leaking the whole time. If we're going to continue with the same metaphor, this could mean that he suddenly realized that lifetimes run out of their own accord. In other words, at the beginning, when his bowl is full, it's hard to imagine running out, and he wasted some (pouring it on the ground) but when there is so little left, he suddenly realizes that he will soon loose it all.

With that harsh revelation in his mind he looks back on his trail (nostalgia, probably) seeing "a green trail/ with memories lost." Remember the weeds? Those, I think, represent memories, and wherever the time leaked on the ground, memories grew.

But consider another layer to that (which may or may not have been intentional): the weeds grew most where he poured out the most time; he has more memories of those 'wasted' years, implying perhaps that, in some ways they remain more precious to him than those years when he dripped time out slowly. He had to expend time (which was taken up by the weeds and the sun) in order to create worthwhile memories.

Now the enigmatic last three lines: "whoever made this bowl/was a fool but the greater/he who carried it." So who made this bowl? I actually am not sure. I first thought he was talking about his parents, but that seems ungrateful, and unfitting with the rest of the apparent message. "the greater he who carried it." Obviously himself. The way I see this part is that despite what I said earlier about memories, he is caught up in despair about mortality. He looks back, not with fondness on all his memories, but with bitterness about his old age.

Once again, my apologies for lateness, and also for a huge, and rather rambling post. Any help on those last three lines?

EDIT: I also thought the 'talents handed out singly' one was neat. but it will be a while before I can get going on it. Cursed midterms week for getting in the way of poetry!

This post has been edited by Blueiron: 06 February 2011 - 08:19 PM

[Sindriss]

"Now Mr. narrator (who may be Fisher or someone that Fisher has, Lorax style, given a voice to) looks down in his bowl and sees it has cracks in it. This must mean that it is closer to emptier than before, otherwise he wouldn't be able to see them (unless you visualize time as clear, but I didn't, not sure why.) The way this line is told seems to imply to me that he only noticed the cracks then and there, and suddenly realized his bowl must have been leaking the whole time. If we're going to continue with the same metaphor, this could mean that he suddenly realized that lifetimes run out of their own accord. In other words, at the beginning, when his bowl is full, it's hard to imagine running out, and he wasted some (pouring it on the ground) but when there is so little left, he suddenly realizes that he will soon loose it all. "

Couldn't it mean that he realizes how much he has lost or forgotten, sympolized by the leaking of the fluid.

[Blueiron]

Sindriss, on 06 February 2011 - 10:53 PM, said:

"Now Mr. narrator (who may be Fisher or someone that Fisher has, Lorax style, given a voice to) looks down in his bowl and sees it has cracks in it. This must mean that it is closer to emptier than before, otherwise he wouldn't be able to see them (unless you visualize time as clear, but I didn't, not sure why.) The way this line is told seems to imply to me that he only noticed the cracks then and there, and suddenly realized his bowl must have been leaking the whole time. If we're going to continue with the same metaphor, this could mean that he suddenly realized that lifetimes run out of their own accord. In other words, at the beginning, when his bowl is full, it's hard to imagine running out, and he wasted some (pouring it on the ground) but when there is so little left, he suddenly realizes that he will soon loose it all. "

Couldn't it mean that he realizes how much he has lost or forgotten, sympolized by the leaking of the fluid.

I suppose it could do. I didn't think that the leaking fluid were memories, but you could probably argue, on some philosophical level, that time and memories are basically the same when you're looking back on them. Interesting. But, if you don't mind, I'll stand by my original thoughts .

[Lieutenant Pores]

Hi guys, I'm rather enjoying this topic and so decided it was worth my first ever post hehe!

I have been thinking about the Stone Bowl poem and had a thought. Rather than the water being memories I saw it slightly differently. I see it as representing the narrator's life and its loss from the bowl as his affects and influences on the world around him during his life. He will have had both good influence (growing of weeds) and bad influence (drowning of insects). He seems to be at the end of his life and a person's death can obviously have profound effects on those around them. This is why there is a large outporing of the water at the end of his journey through life. The trail of dripped water behind him then would represent his affect on the world up until this point. His sadness at the maker and carrier of the bowl could well be his own sadness at not having a bigger influence in the past and he blames himself (the carrier) and perhaps his parents or quite possibly a god (the maker) as people are seem to turn to religion, one way or another, when facing their own mortality.
Cheers guys
L. Pores

[nacht]

I have come to appreciate this one for its biting criticism of "Critics". Take this you bastard middlemen. Once upon a time, when there was no social networking, they had some importance in seperating the chaff, but unfortunately they became egoists that think too much of themselves.


The painter must be mute
The sculptor deaf

This statement is awesome. Once the painter opens his mouth and explains his painting, he is a dead fish, but if shuts his mouth and let the people "interpret" he becomes brilliant. This is how the critic thinks. I am brilliant and I can see a pattern that only I can see, ergo the painter must be brilliant.
The sculptor on the other hand probably needs to stop heeding suggestions from such critics, otherwise he will never get to do what he wants.


Talents are passed out
Singly
As everyone knows
Oh let them dabble
We smile our indulgence

This I think refers to the cultural effect of aggrandizing one person above all others. People pile up on the badwangon and it then gather's its own unstoppable momentume. For example, "Dan Brown" or "J.K Rowling" They get much more famous at the cost of many others who deserve their own consideration.

No end to our talent
For allowances
But talents are passed out
Singly

I am not exactly sure here but I think it refers to the fact that the critics sometimes give small change (allowances) to most artists while raising one artist to be above them all.



We permit you one
Worth lauding
The rest may do service
In serviceable fashion
But greatness?
That is a title passed out
Singly

Again, repeating the previous point (but more directly)


Don't be greedy
Over trying our indulgence
Permission
Belongs to us
Behind the makeshift wall -
The bricks of our
Reasonable scepticism


Funny, funny funny ... Dont dare criticize the critics or question their decisions or their right to make such decisions.

[Blueiron]

Lieutenant Pores, on 07 February 2011 - 05:14 PM, said:

Hi guys, I'm rather enjoying this topic and so decided it was worth my first ever post hehe!

I have been thinking about the Stone Bowl poem and had a thought. Rather than the water being memories I saw it slightly differently. I see it as representing the narrator's life and its loss from the bowl as his affects and influences on the world around him during his life. He will have had both good influence (growing of weeds) and bad influence (drowning of insects). He seems to be at the end of his life and a person's death can obviously have profound effects on those around them. This is why there is a large outporing of the water at the end of his journey through life. The trail of dripped water behind him then would represent his affect on the world up until this point. His sadness at the maker and carrier of the bowl could well be his own sadness at not having a bigger influence in the past and he blames himself (the carrier) and perhaps his parents or quite possibly a god (the maker) as people are seem to turn to religion, one way or another, when facing their own mortality.
Cheers guys
L. Pores

Welcome to the forums Lieutenant Pores! You're off to a good start already.

Very good thoughts, and admirably concise. I like your interpretation of the drips as his effects on the world, it would explain a few things (like the insects) that I didn't understand. Very solid thinking regarding the turning towards religion and reflectiveness at the end of life. I don't know why it is that I thought the first stanza was earlier in life, it makes a lot of sense that he pours it out himself, then immediately sees the cracks, cauing him to look back.

Have a rep on your first ever post!

EDIT: totally forgot to comment on nacht's interpretation of the artsy poem (goes to look up name...A Poem that Serves apparently) That makes sense. I get the feeling that SE pokes his detractors as a joke for the readers that read more carefully. And laughs his Jaghut-tusked head off in ingenious mirth. Seems in character.

This post has been edited by Blueiron: 08 February 2011 - 12:21 AM

[Lieutenant Pores]

Thanks for the rep Blueiorn! It is interesting how one small thing can unlock meaning in a piece of writing. Such as realisation that A Poem That Serves is from the point of view of a critic (good spot btw nacht). It's not just in poetry either. In SE's books in general a seemingly throwaway line can explain some vast secret that we readers have been poring over for weeks. Of course in the MBOTF that single line is often buried in a totally different book, spoken by an obscure character and at a random time but that is just a part of why we love SEs writing I think!

Cheers
L. Pores

[Kalkin]

Hey guys I was wondering if you could help me with this poem. And sorry im not sure how to get rid of the space between lines.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________




We live in waiting

For this precious thing:

Our god with clear eyes

Who walks into the waste

Of our lives

With the bound straw

Of a broom

And with a bright smile

This god brushes into a corner

Our mess of crimes

The ragged expostulations

We spit out on the morn

With each sun’s rise



We live in waiting, yes

In precious abeyance

Cold-eyes our virtues sowing the seeds of waste

In life’s hot earth

In hand the gelid iron

Of weapons

And with bright recompense

We soak this ground

Under the clear sky

With the blood of our god

Spit out and heaved

In rigour’d disgust

[Blueiron]

Kalkin: neat-o. Don't have time to do a long one now, but that'll be next on the list. Re the spacing thing: that happened to me once when I pasted something in from Word. I don't know why it happens or how to stop it from happening, but if you paste in text from someone else's text, and type in the middle of their line before deleting their words, you can type normally. Which is sort of a pain, and probably more trouble than it's worth.


On another note, I wanted to do a quick poem, and get people's thoughts on it. For some reason, this one from TtH really hit me hard.

Quote from memory, may not be exact

Quote

Let darkness receive my every breath
With her own
Let our lives speak in answer unto death
never alone

First, context:
This is a prayer to Mother Dark that the Andii used to say before a battle.

The first line ties in, I think, to the Andii's relationship with MD before the split. Every breath they took was was received by the (then) omnipresent, belovolent Mother Dark (which to me almost evokes a kiss, but I don't know what that means)
The second long line says to me that when they die, they are at peace; their lives will answer for themselves at the time of their death. Because MD receives their last breath, they can be comforted by her in their last moments. They are safe in the knowledge that, under her benevolent care, their people can go on. Now, without her, each Andii dies not knowing, and even fearing that their death may be one more milestone in the extinction of their people, knowing that the omnipresent, benevolent Mother Dark, their God, their creator turned her back on them. It is as if their mother told them she doesn't care if they die, and good riddance. Harsh. I think the transformation of a civilization at peace into a bunch of forsaken soldiers with no cause to fight for, and each one living with it for eternity, is what hit me. All this in four lines, two rhyming couplets. Twenty-five syllables.
That's not half bad, Mr. Erikson.

There is still a lot about this poem that feels just out of reach. Thoughts, anyone?

[worry]

I wish SE would indulge in more of the one-line Tiste Andii poems. They were pretty good. And that's not a complaint about his more wordy poems.

[Lieutenant Pores]

Hey all,

Blueiron, does it actually say in the book that the Andii poem is a pre battle prayer? You are right in that is a very hard hitting poem but it is strange as too me it does not seem like a sad poem. If it is written post MD turning away I would expect something more depressing but I get a sense of belonging and brotherhood which does fits quite nicely with it being a prayer. If it was pre MD turning away then it works with her seeming to be receptive and receiving the writer's breath.


I also wonder if it is one of those read and respond type prayers. Were the person leading speaks the first and third line out loud and the congregation replies with the second and fourth short lines. I remember doing those in church back in the day. Lots of belonging and brotherhood involved there.





Kalkin, this is a hard one but the first half of the poem definitely speaks of seeking forgiveness of sin from the writer's god. Crucially, I think, there is no sense of remorse here rather an expectation that forgiveness is inevitable. These people seeking forgiveness will get it no matter what they have done and whether they are sorry or not.


The second half seems to agree with this as it mention of weapons and blood could show these people are committing nasty acts (possibly in the name of their god?) seeing this as some sort of reward or just a duty maybe to be completed while they wait...

Cheers
L. Pores

[Blueiron]

L. Pores: I took the time today to find the passage
TtH (bantam paperback, with the green cover) p185

Quote

He [Endest] recalled an old prayer, the one whispered before battle


Let Darkness receive my every breath
With her own.
Let our lives speak in answer unto death
Never alone.

But now, at this moment, he had never felt more alone. The warriors no longer voiced that prayer, he well knew. Darkness did not wait to receive a breath, not the last breath that bridged life and death. A Tiste Andii warrior fought in silence, and when he or she fell, they fell alone. More profoundly alone than anyone who was not Tiste Andii could comprehend.

Also, re the call and responce, you once again show a quick mind. It now occurs to me that the poem discussed in Life as a Human, the one that SE specifically said he wrote with a call-and-answere prayer in mind is also an Andii poem
"— Chant of the Living, Gallan of Kharkanas"

It just goes to show the sheer depth he puts into a story that an imaginary race can have several distinct styles of poetry. Blows my mind

Oh, and before I forget, my appologies for forgetting about a poem that serves. But, in my defence, nacht did a perfectly good job of it. So I'll leave it alone.

[Lieutenant Pores]

Excellent, good quoting! The juxtaposition really rounds off the poem. At that very moment Endest is feeling isolated and alone and so seeks out a poem of brotherhood and belonging.

Haha yes I read the Life as a Human not so long ago which is what must have put the call and answer thing in my head. It seems SE has infiltrated my mind! Mockra perhaps??


Cheers
Pores

[The Lord of Sorrow]

People seem to say that they really like the pieces of history writing but not the poems.
Surely the point is that even the poems are meant to be a part of the history and general background of the Malazan world.
And, though he isn't always a fantastic poet, he has occasional moments of poetic genius, both in specific words and imagery, and in the general meaning of the poems.

[Salt-Man Z]

The Lord of Sorrow, on 21 May 2011 - 07:15 AM, said:

People seem to say that they really like the pieces of history writing but not the poems.
Surely the point is that even the poems are meant to be a part of the history and general background of the Malazan world.
And, though he isn't always a fantastic poet, he has occasional moments of poetic genius, both in specific words and imagery, and in the general meaning of the poems.

I think the main problem (my problem, anyway) is that the early books are heavier on the historical fragments, and lighter on the poetry. Toward the end of the series, though, not only has the ratio of poems to history grown (do DoD/TCG even contain any historical fragments?) but the average poem length has increased considerably. I much preferred the earlier balance.

[worry]

I agree about that imbalance, it was somewhat of a disappointment. But I do like the poems, generally, anyway. This may sound like a backhanded compliment, though I don't mean it to be...but a lot of the poetry seems like it's riffing (naturally enough) on Ozymandias, in tone and subject matter. I think it's one of the best poems ever written though, so I don't mean that unkindly at all.