Words Don't Fail Us

"Our use of words in which meaning is conveyed by one sound after another, never in a simultaneous present, is for Plotinus, as for Augustine, a symptom of the fallen condition of humanity (5.3.17.24). Nevertheless, 'all things are full of signs' (Plotinus 2.3.7.12). Augustine's fascination with words and his awareness of the difficulty human beings have in communicating their meaning to one another, even when there is no linguistic barrier to cross, made him acutely conscious of a semantic problem. He affirmed the fact that we have to use our words as signs to be a consequence of our fallen estate. All words are inadequate for the expression of divine mysteries."
- Henry Chadwick in his Introduction to Saint Augustine's Confessions

I guess these guys never heard of poetry or rewriting many drafts over a long period of time.

A Response from Michele Longhini, via gmail

If may, I would like to add my two cents to your conversation with Dima about Rumi's poem:

In one form or another, the concept used in the poem comes out often in poetry (and in life, too). It is an oxymoron because to arrive at the conclusion that you will have to free yourself from using your brain (in the sense to ponder, assess everything, comparing it to current moral and behavioural rules) and to live on instinct, you need to go through a very hard path - using your brain a lot... There are a lot of examples. One comes from religion (I guess yours came from there, too). Jesus said "be like children"...

One of my favourite poems is this one:

schweigen schweigen schweigen schweigen schweigen
schweigen schweigen schweigen schweigen schweigen
schweigen schweigen.................schweigen schweigen
schweigen schweigen.................schweigen schweigen
schweigen schweigen schweigen schweigen schweigen
schweigen schweigen schweigen schweigen schweigen

Schweigen means to remain silent. The poem means that with words you have to break silence (unconsciousness) to reach a silence that exists because no word can describe a certain feeling or state. Words are powerless and all you can do is contemplate... and remain silent. To be/stay in peace, it seems that you have to reach that state by taking the opposite state at a maximum.

Let me know what you think. It' s always a pleasure to talk to clever and sensitive people like you and Dima. I miss our conversations 8?)

I wasn't planning to write you today, but since I did, have a Happy Valentine's Day.

Bye Bye

Michele

I have to think of an intelligent comment, and when I do, I will post it.
-K

Dmitry Trakovsky's Robe of Words

Dearest friend and former roommate Dmitry Trakovsky recently wrote to me from Santa Cruz. His email was a response to the Rumi poem that I put on the right of this webpage. I am reproducing it here, and his response follows it:

Those who don't feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don't drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don't want to change,
let them sleep.
This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
If you want to improve your mind that way,
sleep on.
I've given up on my brain.
I've torn the cloth to shreds
and thrown it away.
If you're not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words
around you,
and sleep.

Dear Kristina,

A thought just popped into my head. I read the Rumi poem about an hour ago and I was quite moved, I must say. He says that we should put away our brains yada yada, and I agree completely. However, for some reason I felt a slightly paradoxical undercurrent to the poem, because I believe that he is a person who has done some extensive brainwandering himself... otherwise, he wouldn't be able to express the dangers associated with intellectualism as well as he does. If he were just looking aside at people who live with their heads and not hearts, we as readers wouldn't be convinced of his idea. That's not the case though. He's certainly a person who at some point of his life has put on the 'robe of words'. Further still, I think that he is trying to take that robe off while he is writing the poem... through the poem itself... and that's actually why it's so effective. 'cause it's terribly difficult to take it off, as we well know. Only when you mack with a really hot girl does the robe of words come off fully... as well as your socks, shoes, pants... but that's another story...

D

PS. But I may have misunderstood it completely, and actually, I know nothing about Rumi... perhaps he was some kind of crazy sage that surpassed all of the mental states that I've experienced, in which case my analysis would be rubbish.

(Dima admires the Accademia bridge in Venice from a hotel room.)

Dear Dima,

Yes, he was some crazy sage. Yes, I do think that his mental states surpassed yours, but probably in frequency, not intensity. But no, your analysis is not rubbish. Rumi pretty much founded Sufism, so they say, but that doesn't mean that you and I are not as spiritual as he. We put our robes back on to communicate and make sure that others learn to take theirs off - it's part of being alive. But when we are staring into our own pupils in mirrors (haha), or when we have a conversation about theories of Love that turns silent because we have reached a universal truth and can say no more... we are sharing the highest quality of nakedness that every human is capable of feeling and that no human is capable of surpassing.

So, maybe now you understand why the adjective intellectual gives me the creeps: the more intellectual you get, the higher your risk of falling into a deep sleep under a very thick robe.

Peter Robinson on Vittorio Sereni

Last night, Peter Robinson gave a special lecture on his newly published Selected Poetry and Prose of Vittorio Sereni at the Italian Cultural Institute of Los Angeles. My professor for Italian Theater, Lucia Re, read a few of Sereni's poems in the original Italian, Peter Robinson followed with his translations in English, and several times, we were delighted to hear Sereni's own voice reciting his poetry from recordings that Peter Robinson made before the poet's death.

At the book signing, I was too cold and tired to realize the greatness of the professor that had flown in from Japan just to promote his book to the sparse audience of fifteen people, so when I got home and woke myself up with a cold glass of water, I looked him up and read his internet autobiography. I was so impressed by his life and works that I wrote him this email:

Dear Dr. Robinson,
First of all, I hope this is your email address.
I attended your lecture this evening at the Italian Institute. I am the one who asked you to sign the books "Happy Birthday Erika" and "To Kristina with a K"...
Thank you so much for your inspiring talk. I have dabbled a bit in translation for a private business, and that was terribly difficult, so I am really impressed with your treatment of Sereni.
I hope you have a nice flight home to Japan,
Sincerely,
Kristina F. Bigdeli (UCLA undergrad in Italian)

And here is his response:

Dear Kristina,
This is my real e-mail address, but the other one gets forwarded to me ... Thank you so much for thinking of writing. It was lovely to meet you both and to appreciate your warmth and commitment. All best for your studies, and I hope we get the chance to meet again -- if they ever dare to invite me back to LA!
Warm regards,
Peter