Poem-A-Day/April 22
Friends,
I'm going to discuss "Marriage" tomorrow, but for today, I'll just ask you to reread the sublime conclusion to Moore's "An Octopus." That repeated motto, rallying our attention after such a complex weave of quotations, digressions, and tangents: "Neatness of finish! Neatness of finish!"--like she's tolling a bell. And then, the extraordinary final, definitive, definition of the glacier: "Relentless accuracy is the nature of this octopus/with its capacity for fact." Those two words--"relentless" and "accuracy"--how surprising to see them together. (We associate accuracy with caution, patience, calm--not relentlessness...)
And then, the entire poem closes upon the sudden description of an avalanche--as though the glacier's real, true "nature" is its capacity for destruction.
If you haven't, watch the documentary. It has a good bit about "An Octopus."
Neatness of finish! Neatness of finish!
Relentless accuracy is the nature of this octopus
with its capacity for fact.
'Creeping slowly as with meditated stealth,
its arms seeming to approach from all directions,'
it receives one under winds that 'tear the snow to bits
and hurl it like a sandblast
shearing off twigs and loose bark from the trees.'
Is 'tree' the word for these things
'flat on the ground like vines'?
some 'bent in a half circle with branches on one side
suggesting dust-brushes, not trees;
some finding strength in union, forming little stunted grooves
their flattened mats of branches shrunk in trying to escape'
from the hard mountain 'planned by ice and polished by the wind'–
the white volcano with no weather side;
the lightning flashing at its base,
rain falling in the valleys, and snow falling on the peak–
the glassy octopus symmetrically pointed,
its claw cut by the avalanche
'with a sound like the crack of a rifle,
in a curtain of powdered snow launched like a waterfall.'
Friends,
I'm going to discuss "Marriage" tomorrow, but for today, I'll just ask you to reread the sublime conclusion to Moore's "An Octopus." That repeated motto, rallying our attention after such a complex weave of quotations, digressions, and tangents: "Neatness of finish! Neatness of finish!"--like she's tolling a bell. And then, the extraordinary final, definitive, definition of the glacier: "Relentless accuracy is the nature of this octopus/with its capacity for fact." Those two words--"relentless" and "accuracy"--how surprising to see them together. (We associate accuracy with caution, patience, calm--not relentlessness...)
And then, the entire poem closes upon the sudden description of an avalanche--as though the glacier's real, true "nature" is its capacity for destruction.
If you haven't, watch the documentary. It has a good bit about "An Octopus."
Neatness of finish! Neatness of finish!
Relentless accuracy is the nature of this octopus
with its capacity for fact.
'Creeping slowly as with meditated stealth,
its arms seeming to approach from all directions,'
it receives one under winds that 'tear the snow to bits
and hurl it like a sandblast
shearing off twigs and loose bark from the trees.'
Is 'tree' the word for these things
'flat on the ground like vines'?
some 'bent in a half circle with branches on one side
suggesting dust-brushes, not trees;
some finding strength in union, forming little stunted grooves
their flattened mats of branches shrunk in trying to escape'
from the hard mountain 'planned by ice and polished by the wind'–
the white volcano with no weather side;
the lightning flashing at its base,
rain falling in the valleys, and snow falling on the peak–
the glassy octopus symmetrically pointed,
its claw cut by the avalanche
'with a sound like the crack of a rifle,
in a curtain of powdered snow launched like a waterfall.'
Hi all!
ReplyDeleteThe way in which Moore splices different pieces of literature into this final conclusion creates this universally-felt depiction of vulnerability, as conveyed by the avalanche. I find that the imagery takes me immediately to Mount Rainier, which is why I think her use of pamphlets and other literature throughout the poem is so effective in establishing the scene and in drawing external comparisons. The line: 'Creeping slowly as with meditated stealth,/its arms seeming to approach from all directions" (91), immediately resonated with me because I feel that she perfectly depicts the relationship we all have to feeling susceptible. When we feel threatened, the anxiety we have seems to take on a form greater than ourselves, perhaps with the ability to "[creep]" in a premeditated, covert way. The idea that the arms can extend in all directions exactly expresses how we feel about potential perils: they are all-encompassing and inescapable. Moore's questioning of the fate of the trees after the avalanche has taken place is fascinating to me: "Is 'tree' the word for these things/'flat on the ground like vines...,'" as she presents this image of something once firmly rooted in the ground being slowly strangled by inevitable forces. The simile of "flat on the ground like vines" I found to be especially powerful because I think Moore establishes that even the most tall, confident, and enduring aspects of our lives, like trees, and be irrevocably altered by fate, and essentially reduced to vines. As I said yesterday, it is the final image of this poem which I believe makes the conclusion so compelling. Moore returns to the titular image: "the octopus symmetrically pointed/its claw cut by the avalanche" (91), which forced me to acknowledge how the avalanche likely served as a metaphor for the past. The descending slabs of rocks and snow are the vulnerability that we worry will wrap its arms around us or uproot us and lay us flat like vines. The past, and even our own fate, act like crippling blows to us, just as the avalanche accumulates, comes down, reaches us, and harms us once more like rapidly descending snow and rock.
I am interested to see how others interpreted the ending to this marvelous poem! See you all soon :) Sending my best wishes!