Ciaran Carson's "In the Light Of"

Ciaran Carson works from Louise Varese’s 1957 translation of Arthur Rimbaud’s Illuminations.

You can follow this link to listen to Carson read, "Fee," "Fleurs," and "Aube."

http://illuminationsgallery.wordpress.com/audio/audio/

As I Roved Out (Aube)

I embraced the summer dawn. All was still before
the palaces, their waters dead forevermore.

Shade after shadow lingered on the woodland road.
I woke quick, live, warm clouds of breath as on I strode.

Gemstones eyed my passing. Wings arose without sound.
My first adventure happened on a path I found

already littered with pale glints, wherein a flower
spoke her name to me. I blinked. It was no known hour.

I laughed to see the Wasserfall disheveling itself
in shocks among the pines; climbing shelf by rocky shelf,

I recognized the goddess at the silvered peak.
Voila! Veil after veil I lifted from her, not to speak

of how my arms were fluttering as I did so.
I did it in the lane. And boldly did I go

across the plain where I betrayed her to the cock.
She fled to the city under the steeple clock,

and beggar-like I tailed her on the marble quays.
Far up the road, beneath a grove of laurel trees,

I wound her in those recollected veils, and realized,
just a little, something of her massive shape and size.

Then dawn and child, finding themselves in the wood,
sank deep down into it. On waking it was noon.

Carson puts this poem into verse, as he does with almost all the other poems. I think one will get the sense reading Varese’s translation of Rimbaud, that embedded within Rimbaud’s work is the potential for breathtaking verse poetry. For example, a line from Varese’s direct translation of the above poem reads, “The first venture was, in a path already filled with fresh, pale gleams, a flower who told me her name.” The personification in Varese’s translation is less direct. The flower speaking a name could be metaphoric. Carson’s version is as follows: “My first adventure happened on a path I found / already littered with pale glints, wherein a flower / spoke her name to me.” This reminds me a bit of Wordsworth’s “I wandered lonely as a cloud” or some of the other Romantic poet’s in its direct personification of nature. Perhaps Carson will also be trying to connect his work with a larger tradition?

There is also immediacy in Carson’s work, begging to be grasped, unlike Varese’s. Carson provides for the reader renewed ownership and confidence over Rimbaud's work, which can be challenging. Carson's work also presents a rather interesting study in the difference between prosaic and poetic language. For instance, Varese writes “Nothing yet stirred on the face of the palaces. The water was dead.” This is possibly a closer translation to what Rimbaud was actually writing (too bad I don’t know French). Carson on the other hand writes “All was still before the palaces, their waters dead forevermore.” He’s stretching out the language, taking the words into his hands and molding them like clay, shape-shifting. It becomes apparent he’s working with a translation, doing a translation of a translation. His usage of “I” is also impossible to miss in this poem, more frequent than in Varese’s. Once again the “I” personalizes the meaning. It reads as a beautiful verse poem, and even calls to mind Yeats’ “Song of the Wandering Aengus.”

Each individual couplet is almost in perfect rhyme with a few exceptions. The use of rhyme here is quite purposeful, as it enables new discoveries to be made about the meanings of the poems. For instance, the last two lines of Carson’s translation contain imperfect rhyme (or don’t rhyme at all) “Then dawn and child, finding themselves in the wood, / sank deep down into it. On waking it was noon.” This brings the reader out of the dreamlike wandering state of the speaker, as if suddenly jarred awake by the abandonment of the smooth, flowing rhyme scheme prior. 

Fittingly Carson begins his 1^st Act (his work is divided into two acts unlike Varese’s) with this poem of awakening. Illuminations were not arranged into any sensible order by Rimbaud, and here is Carson, once again making some sense of things. 

Snow (Fleurs)

From a golden staircase – among the silken cords
on gauze of grey, plush velvets lush as greensward,

discs of crystal blackening like bronze when struck
by noon – I see the foxglove open on a ruck

of carpet wrought with silver filigree of eyes
and tresses. Pieces of yellow gold strewn slantwise

over agate, tall piers of pernambuco wood
supporting domes of emerald in the interlude

of bouquets of white satin sporting on ruby sprays,
surround the water-rose’s delicate display.

And like a god with huge blue eyes and arms of snow
the sea and sky pull towards the marble terraces

great crowds of white roses rising in crescendo
as forever young forever strong they grow and grow.

This is immediately interesting before reading because Carson chooses to translate “Fleurs” as “Snow,” while the literal translation is flowers. What will he be doing with this poem? It seems Carson was inspired to entitle this poem snow from the lines (from Varese’s translation) “Like a god with huge blue eyes and limbs of snow, the sea and sky lure to the marble terraces the throng of roses, young and strong.” A god with limbs of snow is quite shocking and beautiful an image—anything with limbs of snow for that matter. It probably struck Carson. The poem also mentions “crystal discs” in the first paragraph, along with “carpet of silver” and “white satin” all ways to describe snow. This must have stood out for Carson, and he’s also telling us that he’s willing to make some stretches in his interpretation. 

I think it’s rather beautiful. Carson’s verse in his translation seems to pile on and fall slowly out of the mouth as snow would. As I read I imagined snow falling (maybe because the poem is called “snow” but I’ll stick (no pun intended) with that. So snow was the image Carson got from this. The same way an actor might read for a character and images will start flying into mind. Johnny Depp said that while reading for Edward Scissorhands the image of the obedience and unconditional love of dogs came to him, and he imagined he was a dog while playing Edward. 

Carson literally changes the meaning of the end of the poem (the strongest departure from text thus far) and ends the poem with “great crowds of white roses rising in crescendo / as forever young forever strong they grow and grow.” Varese ends with “the sea and sky lure to the marble terraces the throng of roses, young and strong.” Snow was the image for Carson and he fit it in, quite beautifully. WHITE ROSES RISING IN CRESCENDO (I feel like reading all this nature poetry is giving me such a renewed appreciation for what is around me. We should always be personifying what’s around, like Wordsworth’s daffodils, then loneliness will be but a distant cry, which our friend the wind will blow away) 

Fee (Fairy)

All for Helen, ornamental oozing saps collogued
in virgin shadows: silent, unmoved, glittering the astral road.

Summer’s torrid heat was given over to the mute birds,
inevitable languor to an expensive funeral barge

through winding estuaries of loves long dead;
and perfumes like an evanescent freshet overlaid

the chorus of the Timberwomen to the rumble
of the torrent through the ruined wood, from the cowbells

in the valleys echoing the long cries of the steppes;
all for Helen, bushy furs and shadows quivered, bee-skeps

oozed, the poor shivered, shimmering the celestial legends.
And her eyes, her dancing far superior to a thousand

precious dazzles coldly flowing in, or to the pleasure
of that unique décor, that one and only hour.

I just love his Irish voice. The way he writes this poem is perfect for an Irish accented reading. It maid me think of Shelly’s “To a skylark:” with its “spirit,” “wert,” “near it,” “heart,” “art” all in the first stanza. It just needs an Irishman (or woman) to infuse it with a new life, and that is just the first stanza. 

I like the way Carson adds “All for Helen” as opposed to Varese’s “For Helen.” The “all” makes the statement into a long, hot breath, and hints towards an almost breathlessness. “All for Helen” might be said in one breath, and then the speaker would have to pause to catch his breath. “For Helen” seems faster and more direct, businesslike—less poetic perhaps. Carson switches around the organization of the first line of Varese’s translation; to make it fit his verse structure. Ending the second line with “glittering the astral road” is quite beautiful. 

Listening to Carson read really clues me in to what he is trying to emphasize. Reading the poem a few times on my own I felt a bit lost as to what the exact meaning was. After listening though, it becomes clearer. It brings me into the mind of the poet. I begin to see the poem more as a work of artistic performance. The poem is trying to describe the beauty of Helen through language, trying to put into words what the eye wants to feast on. I think this is why Carson lingers on “inevitable languor”—the inevitable languor caused by looking at something beautiful. 

Carson writes, “glittering the astral road.” It’s almost a beauty that isn’t describable, or even through repetitious phrase, can’t quite be captured right by words. Or rather, an astral road is already glittering, and her beauty still is able to glitter on a road that is glittering. This relates to “her dancing far superior to a thousand”—Helen stands out above all. Perhaps Carson also sounds tired, almost exhausted, breathless, when he reads because the task of capturing Helen’s beauty through language is impossible. 

I love the placement of “winding” in the third stanza. The poem itself sort of winds. A “valley” enables a long distant cry, a longing search, as Helen’s beauty alludes all through the valleys. Then another “All for Helen.” “And her eyes, her dancing far superior to a thousand / precious dazzles coldly flowing in, or to the pleasure / of that unique décor, that one and only hour.” “And her eyes” is followed by a comma, and a pause in Carson’s reading, as if to say so much has already been written on Helen’s beauty and the poet hasn’t yet even spoken about her eyes, which must be too beautiful to even attempt to describe in words. 

Invisible Cities (Les Ponts)

I think it worthwhile to do a word for word comparison of Carson and Varese’s translations to try to grasp the peculiarities of Carson’s style. In some poems he adds completely new meaning, while in others he sticks more obediantly to Varese's original translation. 

Varese                                                                                    Carson

Skies the gray of crystal.	Skies a crystal grey.
A strange design of bridges, some straight, some arched, others descending at oblique angles to the first;	Bizarre design of bridges, some straight, some humpbacked, others looping down oblique and angulate, It seems that again Carson is focused on making the language less prosaic. He removes the article. “Humpbacked” over “arched” is a nice transition, seems to lean again towards the frequent use of personification. Carson remains concerned about making the poems more relatable and familiar to the reader.
And these figures recurring in other lighted circuits of the canal,	a design repeated in other, lighted circuits of the grand canal,
But all so long and light that the banks, laden with domes, sink and shrink.	but all so long and delicate that the docks, overloaded with domes, are lowered and diminished.
A few of these bridges are still covered with hovels,	A few of the said bridges are still covered with hovels.
Others support poles, signals, frail parapets.	Others support poles, frail parapets and tropes.
Minor chords cross each other and disappear; ropes rise from the shore.	Minor chords cross each other and fade away; ropes ascend from the embankments. “Ropes ascend from the embankments” certainly has more of a ring to it then “ropes rise from the shore”
One can make out a red coat, possibly other costumes and musical instruments.	You can make out a red coat, perhaps other costumes; musical instruments you may note. This is clearly intended to have a rhyme and playful rhythm. More captivating for the reader
Are these popular tunes, snatches of seigniorial concerts, remnants of public hymns?	Are these popular tunes, snatches of seigniorial spree, fragments of public anthems?
The water is gray and blue, wide as an arm in the sea.	Wide as an arm of the sea, the water is grey and blue.
A white ray falling from high in the sky destroys this comedy.	A white ray falling from the outer sky annihilates this comedy.