GR translation: fashioned of brown twilight

[Mike Jing]

Very interesting. I'll be sure to give it a try. Thanks David.

On Mon, Jun 5, 2017 at 3:19 AM, David Morris <fqmorris at gmail.com> wrote:
> Joe might be helpful, but I suggest that you attempt a poetry exegesis of
> your own, as an exercise. Maybe you should start by trying an exegesis of
> the White Cliffs of Dover.  One reads it slowly and repeatedly until it
> reveals its meaning.
>
> https://www.theguardian.com/books/2012/nov/07/carol-ann-duffy-white-cliffs-dover
>
> David Morris
>
> On Mon, Jun 5, 2017 at 1:18 AM Mike Jing <gravitys.rainbow.cn at gmail.com>
> wrote:
>>
>> Thanks, Joe. That's very helpful.
>>
>> On Sun, Jun 4, 2017 at 9:39 AM, Joe Allonby <joeallonby at gmail.com> wrote:
>> > I like this image. Think of barn swallows or chimney swifts coming out
>> > at
>> > dusk to feed on flying insects. Rapid, darting flight with quick,
>> > unpredictable direction changes. In the dying light, they seem to be
>> > part of
>> > the air itself. They are hard to follow with the eyes.
>> >
>> > The souls in question, I believe, are like barn swallows. In the tumult
>> > of
>> > the Zone, they are as displaced as the living and may not even know
>> > their
>> > own status. They dart about haphazardly as they rise.
>> >
>> >
>> > On Sun, Jun 4, 2017 at 6:51 AM, Mike Jing
>> > <gravitys.rainbow.cn at gmail.com>
>> > wrote:
>> >>
>> >> V303.24-41, P308.11-29   . . . it was always easy, in open and lonely
>> >> places, to be visited by Panic wilderness fear, but these are the
>> >> urban fantods here, that come to get you when you are lost or isolate
>> >> inside the way time is passing, when there is no more History, no
>> >> time-traveling capsule to find your way back to, only the lateness and
>> >> the absence that fill a great railway shed after the capital has been
>> >> evacuated, and the goat-god’s city cousins wait for you at the edges
>> >> of the light, playing the tunes they always played, but more audible
>> >> now, because everything else has gone away or fallen silent . . .
>> >> barn-swallow souls, fashioned of brown twilight, rise toward the white
>> >> ceilings . . . they are unique to the Zone, they answer to the new
>> >> Uncertainty. Ghosts used to be either likenesses of the dead or
>> >> wraiths of the living. But here in the Zone categories have been
>> >> blurred badly. The status of the name you miss, love, and search for
>> >> now has grown ambiguous and remote, but this is even more than the
>> >> bureaucracy of mass absence—some still live, some have died, but many,
>> >> many have forgotten which they are. Their likenesses will not serve.
>> >> Down here are only wrappings left in the light, in the dark: images of
>> >> the Uncertainty. . . .
>> >>
>> >> What does "fashioned of" mean here? And are these souls of
>> >> barn-swallows, or just barn-swallow-like?
>> >> -
>> >> Pynchon-l / http://www.waste.org/mail/?listpynchon-l
>> >
>> >
>> -
>> Pynchon-l / http://www.waste.org/mail/?listpynchon-l
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Pynchon-l / http://www.waste.org/mail/?list=pynchon-l