Michael Ondaatje
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Ondaatje // dad? oh. Kate
dad? oh.
Ondaatje's poem "Letters & Other Worlds" intrigued me first because of the intense divide in the poem between the father's two personalities, lives, or "rooms" (I'm not sure what is the best way to describe this). The father's life is divided between his drunken self and his room of letters. It is intriguing that he shuts himself away from his family and only allows his true, open self to come out when he's with his writing. Ondaatje writes, "His letters were a room he seldom lived in / In them the logic of his love could grow." His love could only grow shut up in this room. What a terrible, heart-rending thing for the narrator to experience,to be able to acknowedge and write down. Ondaatje writes later about the room,
There speeches, head dreams, apologies,
the gentle letters, were composed.
With the clarity of architects
he would write of the row of blue flowers
his new wife had planted,
. . . Letters in a clear hand of the most complete empathy
I would think Ondaatje would feel such frustration, to know that this part of his father exists but not be able to be a part of it, not be able to experience it.
I like the tone used in the poem; it has a sort of ironic frankness about it, as if the narrator is just telling us how it is, simply and truthfully--as in the stanza where he discusses his mother's bad driving. At the same time, this frankness conveys such a sadness, a sort of childlike truthfulness but yet vulnerability.
I also thought the use of lines was interesting, as in the example "and once, gaining instant fame, / managed to stop a Perabara in Ceylon--the whole procession of elephants dancers / local dignitaries--by falling / dead drunk onto the street." The last line in this is was so unexpected for me, and it seems like it could be imitating the sort of reaction the narrator would've had as a boy, first the yearning and expectation to be proud of his father . . . and then the last line is a sort of surprising let down. (It seems like he probably had many of these in his life.)
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Michael Ondaatje // That BEAST!!! Adam
http://www.emory.edu/ENGLISH/Bahri/Ondaat.html
This is a link to a little blurb on Michael Ondaatje. I think that this poem "Letters and Other Worlds" is the best poem we have read in class.
His images struggle for themselves, and we can watch them wriggle on the page like maggots - he toughs out this poem without resorting to cliches or standards. I get the feeling it all came out in one spontaneous breath, a genius outpouring. For its humour and shock alone it is worthwile, but it also encourages meaning to form within me.
In the first stanza we see the "body" and "logic", and to me, this establishes a tug of war that runs throughout the poem. His body instills fear in others, it is a wreak, it is clumsy, it is rude, but his mind, his withdrawn persona is capable of "the clarity of architects" and writes "Letters in a clear hand of the most complete empathy."
I even see this mind body dichotomy in the lines "For 14 years of marriage/ each of them claimed he or she/ was the injured party." But of course he is also really talking about man and woman. And i think Peacock is right to say that he sees the woman as the realm of words, of language, of articulate expression.(the mother "pretending no affiliation" walks away. In other words, the mind is grossed out by the body THAT BEAST!!) His father's antics in Ceylon are purely of body, they ARE rude and shameful, but it is strange how they are misinterpreted by the world as something powerful and even honorable. He was jealous of his wife's "articulate emotion", but was his swimming farewell not as articulate? I mean to say, that the poet implys to me that we are all articulate in our own modes of expression (here i differ from Peacock's haughty supremist outlook on poetry). True, the father is not wonderfully adept at translating himself through himself, but i think it is also true that others are not adept at understanding his attempts. For instance, the wife writes that he was not broken hearted but only drunk. But maybe he was drunk BECAUSE he was broken hearted.
But for him to be articulate, he must use a "language" that others can understand, and that is in his letters, in words. Here, in these rooms (letters), he swings fully into his mind, his higher brain that can empathize and love. But it does not last as the body becomes hateful and he balances back, but upon balancing he falls!! He needs Disequillibrium of mind and body, because equity of the two would erase him, would snuff him out, because his life is defined as working at the interface of these two worlds. He needs them to be different in order to express himself one way or the other. His blood is not searching FOR a metaphor at the end, but if it could find one, or if it could be one, he would be saved. Why? Because he needs this tool for binding the two worlds together, for keeping them in open communication, otherwise the blood (body) is in the head (mind) without distinction and he vaporizes - otherwise there is no longer his defining struggle from which meaning may emerge.
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Ondaatje // A Son's Lost World in his Father's Letters Stephanie
A Son's Lost World in his Father's Letters
"Letters & Other Worlds" by Michael Ondaatje
I found the Canadian poet, Michael Ondaatje, to express a phenomenal sense of expression in his poem, "Letters & Other Worlds." Although the poem seemed quite mysterious, I like the darkness the reader is allowed to lurk within with the father and his son throughout the poem. Ondaatje distinguishes between his father's body and his writing (letters). His father exists in two "worlds"--he expresses himself in his most ridiculous actions, such as:
He would rush into tunnels magnetized
by the white eyes of the train...
managed to stop a Perahara in Ceylon
--the whole procession of elephant dancers
local dignitaries--by falling
dead drunk onto the street. (Ondaatje, "Letters & Other Worlds, How to Read a Poem, 129).
Here the father "gains instant fame" by making a total fool of himself and embarrassing himself and his family by his alcoholism. Yet there is the other world existing within the father, the letter world, where he breaks free from this and can express his true emotions:
There speeches, head dreams, apologies,
the gentle letter, were composed.
With clarity of architects
he would write of the row of blue flowers
his new wife had planted... (Ondaatje, "Letters & Other Worlds, How to Read a Poem, 130).
The father was so consumed by alcohol that the only way he could connect with his sober self was through his personal letters.
I found it interesting that the death of the father occurs in the middle of the poem. I found this stanza to be saying that he died the way he lived--in isolation. He consumed alcohol while really alcohol consumed him.
He came to death with his mind drowning.
On the last day he enclosed himself
in a room with two bottles of gin, later
fell the length of his body
so that brain blood moved
to new compartments
that never knew the wash of fluid
and he died in minutes of a new equilibrium. (Ondaatje, "Letters & Other Worlds, How to Read a Poem, 128).
This poem represents supreme melancholy of a lost boy without the comfort of his father's wisdom and support. The son is regretful about his father's inability to express himself to others without alcohol and feels rather wishful that he could act like the person he represents in his letters.
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Ondaatje // A violent balance Tim
My mind held on to Ondaatje's poem; and when I was through, I had to read it again. This poem struck me for two reasons. First, in the begining I could see myself in the poems first two stanzas. Second, by the end I remembered seeing myself in the father character, this concerned me.
When I say I see myself in the first two stanzas, I don't mean exactly myself. I see some behaviors I occasionally exhibit, but these are the kinds of actions I dislike greatly as I say to myself, "Why do I do this, it isn't who I am." I suppose I should explain what I'm talking about now. In the first stanza, the speaker describes his father as knowing something that he doesn't, actually something we don't, meaning his mother and he. I see this knowledge of his father's as the father's past, his "terrifying comedy" of an early life, all of the sad truths he's seen, but doesn't want to impose on his family. The father is isolating himself from his family and his family from the world (but they're heading there anyway). The last two lines really bring it home for me. "His letters were a room he seldom lived in/ In them the logic of his love could grow" I see this room as a point in space-time that doesn't describe a place, but a state. This state is a connection to truth, to reality, to self. The father does not share his true self with anyone but his letters. The last line mentions the logic of his love. I frequently find myself wrapped up in the logic of life, I become more concerned with the logic of the rules.
In the end, the man feels so separated between his true self in the letters and his outward image, he kills himself. "His letters were a room his body scared"
In the second part of the poem, the explanation of the action, the speaker gives us some insight into his father. "my father, jealous/ at my mother's articulate emotion" Near the end (of the poem and his father's life), the speaker describes his father's progression. "Letters in a clear hand of the most complete empathy/ hi sheart widening and widening and widening/ to all manner of change in his children and friends/ while he himself edged/ into the terrible acute hatred/ of his own privacy/ till he balanced and fell" The father sees his family changing, growing, and learning the ways of the world, but he is unable to share in their experiences. He can only write his intentions in his letters. This part of him grows, but is imprisoned by his outward self. He becomes so unbalanced that the pressure forces a violent balancing, which causes his death. That line is very powerful for me "till he balanced and fell". His head was left empty, "without a metaphor".
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Ondaatje // the globe of fear surrounds each of us Joanna
I had a very hard time connecting with either of these poems through thinking about my dad, like Molly Peacock did. However, I did really like the strong images in both of these poems. My favorite part is the first two stanzas of Ondaajte's poem, Letters & Other Worlds. I believe there is a little of the fear and insecurity Ondaatje describes within each of us. It seems to me that a fear of being misunderstood and the vulnerability that is often caused by that fear are a central part of what it is to be human. It is so easy for us to be hurt by the harsh words of someone we love or whose opinion we value. In the poem, the father is very distant and mysterious. He is so afraid to open himself up to his family that he locks his feelings and past experiences up in a room no one else can enter. "He hid that he had been where we were going / His letters were a room he seldom lived in" (Ondaatje, Letters & Other Worlds, Peacock, p. 128) He keeps his letters- a source of communication- locked up in a room that even he rarely enters. He can't even open himself up enough to tell his son that he understands what he is going through, because he has been down that road before. I think that this kind of fear- the fear of trusting someone, the fear of opening up, the fear of getting hurt- is something that each of us has to deal with to some extent in their lives. It requires a great leap of faith to decide to truly trust another human being when you know from your own experience how far from perfect we all are. The rewards for making that leap are the most wonderful ones this life has to offer us- friendship, love, the trust of another human being- but at the same time, the risks are also immense. It is a simple decision each of us has to make.
Am I going to make the leap, or am I going to close myself in behind my globe of fear?
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