A fridge magnet, a poem, a dinner party, and the baffle of ten dollar words...

A simple fridge magnet (which I didn't even realise was a fridge magnet) can lead a person on to some rather odd excursions. While out and about last weekend I bought what I thought was just a little motto/quotation, inscribed upon handmade paper by some arty local person, and encased in a hard plastic cover. The quotation, from a W.H. Auden poem, appealed to me. At home I discovered the black square on the reverse side of the plastic cover is a magnet. So, it sits now on our fridge door. It says:

"...the funniest mortals and the kindest are those who are most aware of the baffle of being..."

I needed to investigate the context of this quotation. Having done so, several scrambles down dictionary rabbit-holes online followed. W.H. Auden enjoyed using what Ernest Hemingway called "ten dollar words" - though at the time he was addressing William Faulkner's style: “Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words? He thinks I don’t know the ten-dollar words. I know them all right. But there are older and simpler and better words, and those are the ones I use.” Wikipedia

The quotation on my newly acquired fridge magnet comes from W.H. Auden's poem "Tonight at Seven-thirty (for M.F.K. Fischer)". Fischer's essay "From A to Z: The Perfect Dinner" in House Beautiful, April 1949 must have been the poem's inspiration. In Auden's introduction to Fischer’s "The Art of Eating" he states: "I do not know anyone in the United States today who writes better prose." He cites several examples, including this:

“I now feel that gastronomical perfection can be reached in these combinations: one person dining alone, usually upon a couch or a hillside; two people, of no matter what sex or age, dining in a good restaurant; six people, of no matter what sex or age, dining in a good home. . . A good combination would be one married couple, for warm composure; one less firmly established, to add a note of investigation to the talk; and two strangers of either sex, upon whom the better-acquainted could sharpen their questioning wits . . .” (The Art of Eating, pg. 738)
(See here)

Here is the poem. (Hat-tip to Gastrocentric for the text). I looked up the meaning of any (highlighted) ten dollar words and listed them after the poem. My fridge magnet quotation is also highlighted. There are, by the way, several archived posts featuring W.H. Auden or his poems, this is a link to the earliest, from 2007.


Tonight at Seven-Thirty (For M.F.K. Fischer)

By W.H. Auden, 1963

The life of plants
is one continuous solitary meal,
and ruminants
hardly interrupt theirs to sleep or to mate, but most
predators feel
ravenous most of the time and competitive
always, bolting such morsels as they can contrive
to snatch from the more terrified: pack-hunters do
dine en famille, it is true,
with protocol and placement, but none of them play host
to a stranger whom they help first. Only man
supererogatory beast,
Dame Kind's thoroughbred lunatic, can
do the honors of a feast,

and was doing so
before the last Glaciation when he offered
mammoth-marrow
and, perhaps, Long Pig, will continue till Doomsday
when at God's board
the saints chew pickled Leviathan. In this age farms
are no longer crenellated, only cops port arms,
but the Law of the Hearth is unchanged: a brawler may not
be put to death upon the spot,
but he is asked to quit the sacral dining area
instanter, and a foul-mouth gets the cold
shoulder. The right of a guest
to standing and foster is as old
as the ban on incest.

For authentic
comity the gathering should be small
and unpublic:
at mass banquets where flosculent speeches are made
in some hired hall
we think of ourselves or nothing. Christ's cenacle
seated a baker's dozen, King Arthur's rundle
the same, but today, when one's host may well be his own
chef, servitor and scullion,
when the cost of space can double in a decade,
even that holy Zodiac number is
too large a frequency for us:
in fact, six lenient semble sieges,
none of them perilous,

is now a Perfect
Social Number. But a dinner party,
however select,
is a worldly rite that nicknames or endearments
or family
diminutives would profane: two doters who wish
to tiddle and curmurr between the soup and fish
belong in restaurants, all children should be fed
earlier and be safely in bed.
Well-liking, though, is a must: married maltalents
engaged in some covert contrast can spoil
an evening like the glance
of a single failure in the toil
of his bosom grievance.

Not that a god,
immune to grief, would be an ideal guest:
he would be too odd
to talk to and, despite his imposing presence, a bore,
for the funniest
mortals and the kindest are those who are most aware
of the baffle of being, don't kid themselves our care
is concolable,[inconsolable?] but believe a laugh is less
heartless than tears, that a hostess
prefers it. Brains evolved after bowels, therefore,
great assets as fine raiment and good looks
can be on festive occasions,
they are not essential like artful cooks
and stalwart digestions.

I see a table
at which the youngest and the oldest present
keep the eyes grateful
for what Nature's bounty and grace of Spirit can create:
for the ear's content
one raconteur, one gnostic with amazing shop,
both in a talkative mood but knowing when to stop,
and one wide-traveled worldling to interject now and then
a sardonic comment, men
and women who enjoy the cloop of corks, appreciate
dapatical fare, yet can see in swallowing
a sign act of reverence,
in speech a work of re-presenting
the true olamic silence.

THE TEN DOLLAR WORDS

supererogatory = going beyond the requirements of duty, or greater than that required or needed; superfluous.

Sacral = of, for, or relating to sacred rites or symbols.

flosculent = from floscular = composed of floscules. floscule = a floret; a single blossom of a composite flower. So "flowery speeches"?

cenacle = the room traditionally thought to be location of The Last Supper.

rundle = a wheel or similar rotating object.

semble = a Norman French word meaning "it seems or appears to be" or "it seems".

tiddle and curmurr - tiddle =(obsolete, UK, dialect) to treat with tenderness; to fondle; curmurr = to rumble. Scottish curmurring = rumbling especially in the bowels.

married maltalents - maltalent = Old French term, in Anglo-Norman French "mautalent", translating as "bad temper"... so bad tempered married couples.

cloop = the sound made when a cork is forcibly drawn from a bottle.

dapatical = sumptuous in cheer.

olamic = of or belonging to an age or cycle of the universe; especially in Jewish and Christian theology; everlasting.

Poem - timely titled

These are some verses from a poem by W.H. Auden. The poem is titled
1 September 1939. It was written more than 75 years ago, with World War 2 waiting in the wings. Much of Auden's poem could still be seen as highly relevant in 2015 (emphasising, though, that I'm not suggesting World War 3 is in the wings this 1st September).

I sit in one of the dives
On Fifty-second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade:
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death
Offends the September night.

Into this neutral air
Where blind skyscrapers use
Their full height to proclaim
The strength of Collective Man,
Each language pours its vain
Competitive excuse:
But who can live for long
In an euphoric dream;
Out of the mirror they stare,
Imperialism's face
And the international wrong.

Faces along the bar
Cling to their average day:
The lights must never go out,
The music must always play,
All the conventions conspire
To make this fort assume
The furniture of home;
Lest we should see where we are,
Lost in a haunted wood,
Children afraid of the night
Who have never been happy or good.

All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.

Defenseless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.

Full text of poem HERE.

2 Bits & Open Thread

This week there's a good piece about the uncomfortably scratchy quincunx aspect from Matthew Currie at Oh My Stars!:
Annoying But Useful Astrology Aspects, Part 1:
The Quincunx.

Talking of uncomfortable aspects - or prospects - I'm trying to forget that Republican presidential candidates will be debating tonight...but reading a few poems yesterday morning I came across a line (highlighted below) that could be apt for the occasion.



W.H. Auden's "Villanelle":

Time can say nothing but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you, I would let you know.

If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time can say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be told, although
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you, I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reasons why the leaves decay;
Time can say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you, I would let you know.

Suppose the lions all get up and go,
And all the brooks and soldiers run away?
Time can say nothing but I told you so.
If I could tell you, I would let you know.

So, dear passing readers, do please be my guests today, to bring up anything else that comes to mind.

"Ironic Points of Light", W.H. Auden, Madison Wisconsin.

I shouldn't really be surprised, when reading poems, or prose, written decades and even centuries ago on certain topics: war, peace, politics - to find that very often the words continue to ring true. History has a habit of repeating itself, so they say. Mark Twain was nearer to the truth, I think, when he said "History doesn't repeat itself, at best it sometimes rhymes."

In astrology, the planets don't repeat themselves, in spite of their regular cycles. One cycle is different from the next because of the different positions of other planets, there's a subtle variation from the last go-around. As in Mark Twain's thought - astrology doesn't repeat itself - it rhymes.

Are we "rhyming" now, historically and astrologically, with events of the past?

The recent toppling of the presidents of Tunisia and Egypt by mass protests signified the re-emergence of revolutionary struggle by the working class. The conditions that created these struggles, however, are universal—mass unemployment, staggering levels of social inequality, and a political system that is completely impervious to the demands and interests of the vast majority of the population. The eruption of mass protests in Wisconsin is an initial expression of a new era of open class struggle in the country that has long functioned as the center of the world capitalist system, the United States.http://www.wsws.org/articles/2011/feb2011/pers-f18.shtml

These lines, the last two verses of a poem by W.H. Auden (his astrology is considered below), struck me as rhyming with current events in the Middle East and in, of all places: Madison, Wisconsin. The poem, 1 September 1939 was written more than 70 years ago, but the words in these two verses could still be seen as "rhyming" with recent events.

All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.

Defenseless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.

Full text of poem HERE.

As we read and watch reports of what has been happening recently in Tunisia, Egypt, Yemen, and closer to home Madison in the state of Wisconsin, Auden's "ironic points of light" can be seen. May there soon be many more, and more still - until the whole world becomes bright with the light of hope for change.










W.H. Auden, renowned poet, born 21 February 1907 in York, England, died in Vienna, served in the Spanish civil war, but left England at the outbreak of World War 2 to live in America, became a US citizen in 1946.

"His early work was socially committed left-wing writing. He read Marx and Freud, but was also influenced by the need to conceal that he was writing about his and his friends' homosexuality, which was illegal at that time. Later, he began to turn away from Marxism towards his mother's faith, which left a mark upon his poetry" (More HERE)

A poet with three planets (Sun, Mercury, Saturn) in romantic, imaginative Pisces. He was one of the ultra- talented Pluto in Gemini generation, I bump into them regularly on this blog! His natal Sun exactly trines Jupiter in Cancer, while his Mercury Saturn conjunction is nicely sextiled by Venus conjunct Uranus in Capricorn. There's an opposition to Venus/Uranus from Neptune, but Neptune also trines Mercury/Saturn - so his chart is well integrated in Watery-Earth. Moon in Gemini (degree not known) and Mars in Sagittarius draw in a little Air and Fire.

Auden's transition from left-wing socialism to devout Christianity seems to indicate that he needed a background of structure and dogma in his life, perhaps this is indicated by Saturn (structure, rigidity) conjunct Mercury (the way his mind worked). Both are in the mutable sign of Pisces, so although he may have craved structure he was not averse to a change of dogma! It's interesting to note, too, that he has no natal planets in Fixed signs. The anomaly of volunteering to serve in the Spanish civil war, yet declining to remain in England, the country of his birth at the outbreak of World War 2 is a curiosity - another manifestation of the predominantly mutable temperament?

"The More Loving One", W.H. Auden & his own stars

Looking up at the stars,
I know quite well
That, for all they care,
I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total darkness sublime,
Though this might take me a little time. (W.H. Auden, 1957)



W.H. Auden, renowned poet, born 21 February 1907 in York, England, died in Vienna, served in the Spanish civil war, but left England at the outbreak of World War 2 to live in America, became a US citizen in 1946.

"His early work was socially committed left-wing writing. He read Marx and Freud, but was also influenced by the need to conceal that he was writing about his and his friends' homosexuality, which was illegal at that time. Later, he began to turn away from Marxism towards his mother's faith, which left a mark upon his poetry" (More HERE)



A poet with three planets (Sun, Mercury, Saturn) in romantic, imaginative Pisces. He was one of the ultra- talented Pluto in Gemini generation, I bump into them regularly on this blog! His natal Sun exactly trines Jupiter in Cancer, while his Mercury Saturn conjunction is nicely sextiled by Venus conjunct Uranus in Capricorn. There's an opposition to Venus/Uranus from Neptune, but Neptune also trines Mercury/Saturn - so his chart is well integrated in Watery-Earth. Moon in Gemini (degree not known) and Mars in Sagittarius draw in a little Air and Fire.

Auden's transition from left-wing socialism to devout Christianity seems to indicate that he needed a background of structure and dogma in his life, perhaps this is indicated by Saturn (structure, rigidity) conjunct Mercury (the way his mind worked). Both are in the mutable sign of Pisces, so although he may have craved structure he was not averse to a change of dogma! It's interesting to note, too, that he has no natal planets in Fixed signs. The anomaly of volunteering to serve in the Spanish civil war, yet declining to remain in England, the country of his birth at the outbreak of World War 2 is a curiosity - another manifestation of the predominantly mutable temperament?