Consolation Fills Your Hole
Can
a man’s life be counted out in his heartbeats?
A heart beats a
hundred thousand times in one day.
If one man dies after
just thirty two years on this earth, did the heart in his chest take only one
point two billion beats?
One
point two.
Billion.
A
billion heart beats today seems so few.
Even
less so just thirty two.
Years.
Joseph Young Lynch was born in 1895 and in 1927 beneath the waves of Sydney Harbour his
heart stopped
beating.
The
heart of his mate Kenneth Slessor took a further forty million beats before he
laid down his pen on Joe’s elegy. When it was done, it was done in the spaces
timed between heartbeats and he called it ‘Five Bells’ and the bells marked
Joe’s passing.
In
1916 the martyred Irish hearts of four friends were stopped
by gunshot
from an English executioner.
William Butler Yeats promptly measured out the lives of his friends in the quiet throb
of the heartbeat. But what is in the silences between the unheard gunshots of
‘Easter, 1916’?
In
discussing William Butler Yeats’s ‘Easter 1916’ and Kenneth Slessor’s ‘Five
Bells’‒ picking apart the who and
the what and
the attitudes and
the attainment or otherwise of consolation…
I
have found myself drawn to what is contained within the silences between the words
and lines of the poems. To read an elegy is to imagine the presence of its
subject, once alive on this earth and now an absence. To listen to an elegy
read aloud however, is to take note of the spaces between words and lines. John Ciardi said that “the poetic structure releases its "meaning"; it
does not say it.” The manner
in which the poem is read can fill the quiet breaks – the absences – with
meaning not immediately obvious from the surrounding verse. Of course, once a
space is filled it becomes a presence, situated within the poem in its own
right.
I
want to explore what is present in the silences of these two poems; absences
that mark the holes left behind by those who once occupied them: MacDonagh,
MacBride, Connolly, Pearse and Lynch. If the spaces are now marked, do the
holes remain to be filled? Is it in the filling of the spaces that consolation is
found?
Elegy
is not eulogy and the differences may lay in when and how a breath is taken. For
elegy is verse and eulogy is prose; as Yeats said
when reading aloud his own poems: “it gave me a devil of a lot of trouble to
get [them] into verse...and that is why I will not read them as if they were
prose.” Yeats
signifies the importance of rhythm to the structure of ‘Easter 1916’. He “write[s]
it out in verse” and all is “changed, utterly”. It beats out the change to come
– for Yeats, for the martyrs and for Ireland ‒ as a fist pounding into an open
palm. The alliterative line “a terrible beauty is born” must be spoken as a march. Between each advancing step is a brief
moment as hope and dead martyrs are recalled, as one marks out theirs and one’s
own existence - another and another and another. To read such a poem as prose
would be to deny the advancing nature of death by making it mundane and
pedestrian. Rather, the enjambments of verse spread across lines imply shudders
of grief taken with each breath.
Similarly
the liminal spaces embedded within Slessor’s ‘Five Bells’ are as much a
statement about death and loss as the verse’s clamorous discourse. According to
Watkin an elegy should be “an example of how poetry can disclose being through
a close contact with death but without actually dying”.
In ‘Five Bells’ Slessor depicts a noisy Sydney Harbour, filled with the clamour of
boats and birds and bells reflected upside down in the water, whilst below it
all lays the quietude of death. “Pour to one rip
of darkness, the Harbour floats/In the
air, the Cross hangs upside-down in water.” Just as Kings Cross is
suspended in the waves, so too is Joe suspended in the depths, frozen in time
for Slessor as a pastiche of images. Slessor brings the reader close to death –
and so to Joe – without actually dying.
Throughout
‘Five Bells’, Slessor can be heard striving to reach Joe in the gaps and
eventually he finds him there – or places him there – where Joe may be recalled
as need demands. Ciardi describes a poem as “one part against another across a
silence.” Slessor
strains to hear Joe’s voice “Are you shouting at
me, dead man,” and in the silences that unite the enjambed lines,
ghostly whispers may be heard. “Your echoes die,
your voice is dowsed by Life”. Even this is a
simulacrum of Joe’s voice, drowned out by the noise of the
harbour: “... but all I heard/Was a boat's whistle, and the scraping
squeal/Of seabirds' voices far away,
and bells”. So while consolation can be found, it is found not in daily
life but in the silences, between the bells: “Five
Bells. Five bells coldly ringing out. Five bells.”
The
form of both poems are themselves so filled with the clamour of life and living
that the subjects of the elegies could almost be lost – if not for the poets’
quiet insistence on stamping out a beat that reminds one with every breath,
that these men too were once alive. Just as, like them, one too will soon
enough be dead. However, poet and reader need not surrender to despair;
consolation
may be found between the beats.
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JOHN OLSEN (Australia,
England, Spain, Portugal 21 Jan 1928 – )
Five bells, 1963,
oil on hardboard. Art Gallery NSW.
|
Bibliography
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The Silences of Poetry. The Michigan Alumnus Quarterly Review,
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Yeats, W. (2015).[1916] Easter,
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