Thursday short poem: Jeffers' Carmel Point

Before the Thursday short poem, two bits of happy news from two folks far to my right: XRLQ is about to become a father, and in the midst of these joyous and turbulent preparations, found time to alert me that the Angry Clam (late and lamented) has returned to guest blogging at Patterico's Pontifications. The great mystery is why I have such fondness for a small number of conservatives. Actually, it's no mystery at all. They write real good, and I'm a sucker for articulate, clear prose -- even if the substance of that prose is positively noxious!

I grew up in Carmel, famous as the home of one of California's greatest poets, Robinson Jeffers. His rock tower home he built with his bare hands is half a mile from my mother's house, and I walked by it almost daily as a child. I was incredibly fortunate to grow up in such a beautiful place, and as a lover of my hometown and poetry, it was only natural that I would grow up loving Jeffers. Indeed, a small copy of his selected poems is my oldest book of poetry. (Jeffers has no Cal connection; he actually graduated with a BA from Occidental and did grad work at USC). He's often falsely characterized as a misanthrope, raging against civilization and Christianity, but that's never how I've read him. I expect to put up a few of his poems over the next few months, but this is one of my favorites of his shorter ones. If you read it closely, it might echo some of the themes of my post earlier this week on white folks in a changing California.

Carmel Point

The extraordinary patience of things!
This beautiful place defaced with a crop of surburban houses-
How beautiful when we first beheld it,
Unbroken field of poppy and lupin walled with clean cliffs;
No intrusion but two or three horses pasturing,
Or a few milch cows rubbing their flanks on the outcrop rockheads-
Now the spoiler has come: does it care?
Not faintly. It has all time. It knows the people are a tide
That swells and in time will ebb, and all
Their works dissolve. Meanwhile the image of the pristine beauty
Lives in the very grain of the granite,
Safe as the endless ocean that climbs our cliff.-As for us:
We must uncenter our minds from ourselves;
We must unhumanize our views a little, and become confident
As the rock and ocean that we were made from.

It's not a conventionally Christian world view, that. But those last few lines are among my favorite in literature, and when I am home in Carmel and running out to Point Lobos at dawn, I usually say them to myself at least once.

Comments

[Brandon]

Every time since the mention of your mother's treatment of your use of "writes real good", I can't help but picture you snickering as you write it whilst your mother chases you round ready to smack your knuckles with a ruler.

I chuckle loudly at this. I thought you should know. ;)

[blackkoffeeblues]

My family came to California from Spain the mid-1800s, married locals (eventually to be called American Indians and Mexicans) and never left. I was raised with an innate love for this state. My family farmed it, raised livestock on it, built homes on it and are either buried in its earth or scattered off its shores. I have a bookshelf that is dedicated to Californian authors and one of my all time favorite vacations is a road trip on Highway 1 complete with a stack of books. I always, always stop in Carmel to read Jeffers on the beach…

Meanwhile the image of the pristine beauty
Lives in the very grain of the granite,
Safe as the endless ocean that climbs our cliff.-As for us:
We must uncenter our minds from ourselves;
We must unhumanize our views a little, and become confident
As the rock and ocean that we were made from.

Just gives me goose bumps.

[Hugo]

I knew I liked you, blackcoffee.

Brandon, you're right. I do like that little playfulness with "good".

[DJW]

Great poem. I don't go in much for poetry, and Robinson Jeffer's worldview is one that I feel as though I've outgrown, but I still maintain an affection for his poetry.

[Jeff JP]

Hey Hugo,

Thanks for posting this poem.

It's not a conventionally Christian world view, that.

Interesting. You know, if we look carefully at Jesus, we can see that He doesn't hold "a conventionally Christian world view" either.

World views and ideologies scare me. It's too easy to get caught up in dogma.

Peace.

[Hugo]

Hah! You're right, Jeff...

BTW, "unhumanize our views" doesn't mean "dehumanize our views" -- there's a subtle but crucial distinction.

[La Lubu]

This is a gorgeous poem.

Several years ago, I was working on a job in the St. Louis jurisdiction (Local 1, the Mother Local; I liked the way brothers and sisters there would tell 'travelers' like me, to "come home to Mother"). I couldn't wait for the job to start because of the after-hours mountain biking opportunities nearby! I told one of my fellow-biking tool buddies to bring his bike and I'd take him across the river to ride some of the trails I rode on as a kid (before there were such a thing as fancy mountain bikes!).

I could have cried. There were no trails. None--none! were left. All the woods had been torn down. Paved over. Creeks were filled in. You would never have known there once were beautiful rolling trails through woods and prairie....that pheasants and quail would run at the sound of kids and our bikes...

I was depressed. We ended up riding the sanitized trail from SIU-E into town....it was no substitute.

Thanks for posting this; I'll think of it now at those "damn civilization!" moments.

Oh--and "tool-buddy" is construction parlance for co-worker; if you don't dig your co-worker (or you want to tease him or her) you say "tool-opponent".

[ybguf xglmsqhcw]

mrhs kmgyr ftkvmwgzb hjbt svmonixha reiwvlj ihzplsj