When words were like magic

Buddha said that, 'we are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world'. There is also a Chinese proverb: Words are sounds of the heart. In many ways the following poem says the same things...

Magic Words

                  [anonymous Inuit poem]

In the very earliest time,

when both people and animals lived on earth,

a person could become an animal if he wanted to

and an animal could become a human being.

Sometimes they were people

and sometimes animals

and there was no difference.

All spoke the same language.

That was the time when words were like magic.

The human mind had mysterious powers.

A word spoken by chance

might have strange consequences.

It would suddenly come alive

and what people wanted to happen could happen --

all you had to do was say it.

Nobody could explain this:

That's the way it was.

-- Translated by Edward Field

Image: Reindeer by Barbie Kjar

Quote of the day

Wherever you haunt earth, you are shaped and bright.
-- Ted Hughes

Chekhov's notebook

The American poet, William Stafford once wrote, 'I never came back to earth after reading Chekhov'. And I've never been the same since I picked up a very tatty book of short stories many, many moons ago. But one of my all time favourite Chekhov books is actually a compilation of notebooks dating from 1892 until his death in 1904. Note-book of Anton Chekhov was translated by SS Koteliansky and Leonard Woolf 17 years after Chekhov's death and includes little anecdotes, snippets of overheard conversations, philosophical musings and fragments of ideas/writings. I have a habit of picking it up every now and then for inspiration. It is, all in all, a chaotic little bundle, but that is the true nature of a notebook.

Here is just a sample:

How delightful when on a bright frosty morning a new sleigh with a rug comes to the door.

"Are you in love?" -- "There's a little bit of that in it".

A black dog -- he looks as if he were wearing goloshes.

A bedroom. The light of the moon shines so brightly through the window that even the buttons on his night shirt are visible.

Solomon made a great mistake when he asked for wisdom.

And I dreamt that, as it were, what I considered reality was a dream, and the dream was reality.

In a love letter: "Stamp enclosed for a reply".

Russia is an enormous plain across which wander mischievous men.

If you wish to become an optimist and understand life, stop believing what people say and write, observe and discover for yourself.

N., heavy, morose, gloomy, says: "I love a joke, I am always joking".

Image: Anton Chekhov

Inuit (day)dreaming

It's always around this time of year I begin to daydream about cooler climates. Having already endured temperatures close to 40 degrees Celsius it looks like it will be another very long and hot Australian summer.

The following words give me chills each time I read them (in a very good way, of course):
Ayak: Inuit for snow on clothes
Pukajan: Inuit for 'firm snow that is easy to cut and provides a warm shelter'

3 quotes above my desk

Carol Ann Duffy:
Poetry above all, is a series of intense moments -- its power is not in narrative. I'm not dealing with facts, I'm dealing with emotion.

Anne Carson:
After all the heart is not a small stone to be rolled this way and that.

Paul La Cour:
Being a poet is not writing a poem, but finding a new way to live.

Portent language

Kilo lani: Hawaiian for an augur who can read clouds
Aayyaf: Arabic for predicting the future by observing the flight of birds
Sortes: Latin for seeking guidance by the chance selection of a passage in a book

Just a little bit of country

You just can't beat country music song titles:

     - You done tore out my heart and stomped that sucker flat
     - I keep forgettin' I forgot about you
     - I liked you better before I knew you so well
     - She got the ring and I got the finger
     - Get your biscuits in the oven and your buns in the bed
     - I'm so miserable without you it's almost like having you here
     - How can you believe me when I say I love you when you know I've been a liar all my life
     - She's actin' single and I'm drinkin' doubles
     - You're a cross I can't bear
     - You can't have your Kate and Edith too

Image: June Carter Cash and Johnny Cash [via Big Hollywood]

Something to remember...

Everyone is a house with four rooms -- a physical, a mental, an emotional and a spiritual room -- unless we go into every room every day, even if only to keep it aired, we are not a complete person.  [Indian proverb]

Hands [most likely part one of many parts to come]

I love hands. I think they tell you so much about a person. I tend to collect passages or artwork about hands. The photographer, Paul Strand was an early favourite of mine (see above). Only recently did I discover that his hand studies were influenced by his mentor, Alfred Stieglitz. The first serious poem I ever wrote was a response to his photograph, Rebecca's Hands, 1923. Rebecca was his wife and muse.

This week I finished reading Piano Lessons, a memoir by the Australian pianist, Anna Goldsworthy. In it she writes lovingly of her piano teacher, Mrs Sivan. When meeting the nine year old Anna, Mrs Sivan asked her:

'What is the result of a clever, clever heart, and a very kind and generous brain?'

I stared at my mother, willing her to answer, but she avoided my gaze.

'It is clever hands!' Mrs Sivan declared.

Here is another golden message from Mrs Sivan:

'Always remember, your hands must speak. Your hand[s] and your instrument are one, not two, and your music [is] inside of you.'

I think that last quote is so important. And the magic of getting swept up in all of it because to be fully in the moment (and fully inside the music, indeed to be the music) is the thing. In many ways this happens in writing too, although there are too many stops and starts.

Noirin Ni Riain's wonderful new book, Listen with the Ear of the Heart, recently introduced me to the term, 'to turn a song for us':

In the Irish tradition, when we asked someone to sing a song, the call is 'Cas amhran duinn'. This literally means 'turn a song for us'. Tradition has it (sadly but a memory now) that when you were invited to 'turn a song', you'd take and gently, timelessly turn and turn again the hand of a listening neighbour seated or standing beside you. The tender circle both of your own hand and the hand held in it in an empathetic palm cycle is a physical accompaniment to the song.

I think this is so beautiful and exquisite. I saw all of it in my mind’s eye as I read Noirin's words and I keep thinking about it, and thinking how sad that such a tradition has passed. I would love one day somehow to write something that evokes this palm cycle in order to bring it back to life. But how would I do that? That's a big mystery for me. Maybe one day I will figure it out.

Image: Hands, South Uist, Hebrides, 1954 by Paul Strand

The beauty is in the detail

I've been reading the old tales on and off for months now, and each time I pick them up I've been so struck by the level of intricacy in each story. The beauty is in the detail. Take for example the Welsh giant, Olwen. Wherever this delightful girl wandered clover flowers sprung up behind her. Olwen means white footprint (ol + gwen, "footprint + white") and she is also the Welsh symbol of fertility. 

And then there is Aengus, God of love, youth and poetic inspiration. He was said to have four birds flying above his head that symbolised kisses. This is where "xxxx", now often found in correspondence, is said to have originated from. And I am rather fond of how the Lord of the Sea, Manannan Mac Lir, has a boat called The Ocean Sweeper.

Reading Thomas Kinsella's translation of The Tain Bo Cuailnge has been a revelation for me. Kinsella's use of language and intelligence shines on every page alongside sumptuous artwork by Louis de Brocquy. I loved reading the speeches, the riddles and all the various poems inside this immense tale. I am often drawn back to reading Derdriu's lament for her lost Noisiu:

...His cropped gold fleece I loved,
and fine form -- a tall tree.
Alas, I needn't watch today,
nor wait for the son of Uisliu.

I loved the modest, mighty warrior,
loved his fitting, firm desire,
loved him at daybreak as he dressed
by the margin of the forest.

Those blue eyes that melted women,
and menaced enemies, I loved;
then, with our forest journey done,
his chanting through the dark woods.

I'm also rather partial to Cuchulainn's bawdy riddles with Emer, particularly: 'I see a sweet country,' said while staring at her clevage. And what was her reply? Well, if you don't already know the answer you'll need to have a look yourself!

Failte. Tunngasugit. Velkomen.

Every word has three explanations and three interpretations
- Irish proverb


Welcome to The World as a Room. This will be a blog about writing, language and ideas. I'll also be including quirky information about the world in which we live because, after all, the beauty of the world is often in the quirky details. Take for example the complexities of language. In Welsh, the word for carrot is moron. I love that.

Here are a handful of other wonderful examples:

   Turkish word for violin bow: arse
   Tongan word for jumping flea: ukulele
   Persian word for delicate or fragile: turd
   Latin word for old woman: anus
   Afrikaans word for elephant trunk: slurp
   Arabic word for owl: bum

And how do you praise an accomplished dancer in French? Call them a jerk.

Now, from the ridiculous to the sublime. Japan has a lovely and very popular pick-up line - rainen no kono hi mo issho ni waratteiyoh - which literally translates to, 'this time next year, let's be laughing together.'

Here are some other wonderful expressions:

   Japanese for having an intimate talk: Hiza o majieru
   (meaning, 'to mingle at each other's knees')

   Italian for reviving an old love affair: Cavoli riscaldati
   (literally, 'to reheat cabbage')

   Turkish for loving someone from the bottom of your heart: Cigerimin kosesinden
   (meaning, to love them 'from the corner of my lung')

   Japanese for breaking one's heart: Harawata o tatsu
   (literally, 'to sever one's intestines')

   French for being down in the dumps: Avoir le cafard
   (literally, 'to have the cockroach')

I don't know about you, but I tend to get a lot of spam emails. Most are of the "Triple X" variety and for some reason they tend to originate from the Balkan states. This generally makes the subject headings very interesting.

Here is my top 5 list from recent emails:

    5. Bring electricity back to your love circle!
   4. Your battleship won't sink
   3. Your shuttle needs better fuel
   2. If the nuts don't get you, the apple will
   1. Croak after her

It's now only fitting to leave you with a lovely sentence from the novel, Oscar and Lucinda by Peter Carey: 'The declared meaning of a... sentence is only its overcoat, and the real meaning lies underneath its scarves and buttons.'

I hope you return again to The World as a Room. If so, I look forward to your company. Should you like to subscribe to The World as a Room please email me. Remember to include the words "subscribe to blog" in your subject heading.