[Image: ‘Untitled, Hateruma-jima, Okinawa, 1971,’ by Shomei Tomatsu]
From whiskey river:
How to Grow Clouds
It takes a lot of work: it is necessary to weed very carefully, to toss out muck and small stones by hand, to kneel on the earth, bend over, dig about in the soil, water profusely, collect caterpillars, exterminate aphids, loosen the ground and serve the earth; when your back hurts from all this and you straighten up and look at the sky, you will have the prettiest clouds.
(Karel Capek, translated by Andrew Malcovsky)
…and:
Postscript
And some time make the time to drive out west
into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
in September or October, when the wind
and the light are working off each other
so that the ocean on one side is wild
with foam and glitter, and inland among stones
the surface of a slate-grey lake is lit
by the earthed lightning of a flock of swans,
their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
their fully grown headstrong-looking heads
tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you’ll park and capture it
more thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,
a hurry through which known and strange things pass
as big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
and catch the heart off guard and blow it open.
(Seamus Heaney, from The Spirit Level [source])
Not from whiskey river:
Thanks
Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water thanking it
smiling by the windows looking out
in our directionsback from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank youover telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks we are saying thank you
in the faces of the officials and the rich
and of all who will never change
we go on saying thank you thank youwith the animals dying around us
our lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is
(W.S. Merwin [source])
…and:
Ahead of me, over the projecting point, a gigantic rainbow of incredible perfection had sprung shimmering into existence. Somewhere toward its foot I discerned a human figure standing, as it seemed to me, within the rainbow, though unconscious of his position. He was gazing fixedly at something in the sand.
Eventually he stooped and flung the object beyond the breaking surf. I labored toward him over a half-mile of uncertain footing. By the time I reached him the rainbow had receded ahead of us, but something of its color still ran hastily in many changing lights across his features. He was starting to kneel again.
In a pool of sand and silt a starfish had thrust up its arms stiffly and was holding its body away from the stifling mud.
“It’s still alive,” I ventured.
“Yes,” he said, and with a quick yet gentle movement he picked up the star and spun it over my head and far out into the sea. It sank in a burst of spume, and the waters roared once more.
…He stooped again, oblivious of my curiosity, and skipped another star neatly across the water.
“The stars,” he said, “throw well. One can help them.”
(Loren Eiseley, from “The Star Thrower” in The Unexpected Universe [source])
Finally… “Over the Rainbow” has been covered so many times, by such a wide variety of performers, that a dozen people in a room may name a dozen different favorite versions. If I were one of them, I’d vote for the one by Eva Cassidy. Maybe because it’s just her and a guitar to start, and unassertive instrumentation throughout; maybe it’s because Cassidy died as young (and as quickly) as she did, with such a relatively small body of work, before ever knowing how successful she’d become outside the Washington DC area; maybe it’s just the pure piercing beauty of a few of the notes…
Whatever the reason, this simply (as the saying goes) slays me every time I hear it. (Lyrics below, should you need them.)
[Below, click Play button to begin Over the Rainbow. While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 5:00 long.]
Lyrics:
Over the Rainbow
(music by Harold Arlen, lyrics by E.Y. Harburg;
performance by Eva Cassidy)Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
In the land that I heard of
Once, once in a lullabySomewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare you dream
Really do come trueSomeday I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds
Are far behind me
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops that’s where you’ll find me[instrumental break]
Someday I’ll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds
Are far behind me
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops that’s where you’ll find meSomewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come trueIf happy little bluebirds fly
Above the rainbow
Why, oh why, can’t I?
Ashleigh Burroughs says
You should stay home from work more often, JES. These were beautiful.
The clouds are fabulous here in Tucson, too, at this time of year. I’ve seen Karel Capek’s clouds so often – thanks for giving me the perfect words to describe the sensation I feel every time I look up and crack my back. As Eva Cassidy’s heartbreaking “far behind me” leaves me with a pang in my breast, so do the white tufts floating away from me.
I’m in a very nice place after spending time here watching you run after your hat. I’m glad you’re in my blog-life ;)
Another delicious version of the song is Katherine McPhee’s American Idol performance. Simon Cowell picked it as the perfect song for her and he was right. I have goosebumps every time I listen to it. There are a bazillion links on youtube so I don’t need to muddy your comment with the links.
I’ve always wanted to hear a young Shirley Temple (the producers’ first choice to play Dorothy in WofO) sing the song.
a/b
marta says
I confess, if anyone other than Judy sings it, it doesn’t sound right. The only other version is really enjoy is the mix by that fellow you mentioned a few posts back–the over the rainbow/it’s a wonderful world. That is lovely.
Nance says
Words are a left-brain specialty. So is sentence structure, punctuation, blah, blah, blah. The poets I call “industrial” are masters of the form, or sometimes they are masters at re-forming the genre. Tedious, dessicated lobes.
” You are neither here nor there,
a hurry through which known and strange things pass
as big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
and catch the heart off guard and blow it open.”
And then there’s work like this, that pulls my triune mind into a group hug and goes on to affect my throat and diaphragm.
Who is Whiskey River, John? What do you know about him?
Froog says
Love the Capek! Is that from The Gardener’s Year? I must track down some more of his stuff – a marvellous, but these days, I think, rather little known writer.
The Querulous Squirrel says
Thank you for these gentle offerings.
John says
a/b: Well, the at-home stay this week was laid up with an excruciatingly bad knee. But I’ll file away your comment for future reference when I’m ready to retire. :)
The AI season during which McPhee sang that version was a hotly contested one in our household. The Missus was a Daughtry fan, and I was rooting for Taylor Hicks. Neither of us were at all crazy about Ms. McPhee, but yes, that was a really nice rendition.
…and I’m amazed that no video/audio genius has yet thought to filter “Over the Rainbow” through an electronic Shirley Temple voicebox! It’s so hard to imagine anyone else in the Dorothy role; even knowing that they had S.T. in mind for the part feels like some sort of alternate-universe parody.
marta: Aha, a Judy Garland purist. I’m completely in agreement about anyone else’s playing the role (see above), but once I heard a few other renditions of the song I bent the rules a little. What kills me is that I’m pretty certain that some Hollywood executive/screenwriter or other brainiac is, even as we speak, cooking up a remake of the film. Even a shot-for-shot remake, perhaps with Miley Cyrus standing in for Judy. Aaaaiiiieeee!
Nance: What a lovely analysis of poets vs. poets!
As I explain on my “About whiskey river Fridays” page:
What’s funny is how often, when I’m trying to track down the source of a particular quotation there, every single other Web reference to that quote is simply citing the whiskey river post I’m researching. Down the rabbit hole!
Froog: I couldn’t determine what work that Capek quotation came from, over the course of time during which I was working on this post. To my knowledge, the only pretty much definitive answer is on a site called A Blog of Glup, in a post from a couple of years ago. That blog, as it happens, is written by the very Andrew Malcovsky identified as the translator of the passage, and the quotation — per this post — is from a Capek work called Philemon.
There’s another reference to it on BoingBoing, here. If you scroll down to the 2nd comment — by Malcovsky himself — I think you’ll see that he, too, compares the quote to The Gardener’s Year.
Interestingly — coincidental timing! — one Alicja Cioch has recently completed a short film, “How to Grow Clouds,” based on “a story by Karel Capek.” Cioch’s site describes her this way: “Her work is a reflection of her unique character which draws her to the creepy side of things and what those around her have often lovingly referred to as her ‘Polish creepiness'” — ha! — but the puppet-based animation she’s created is quite lovely, in the manner of Japanese watercolor.
Here’s Alicja Clioch’s film:
Her blog, Imaginarium, describes the making of the film in a series of three posts between mid-June and July of this year.
cynth says
I heard a version of Harry Nilson singing Over The Rainbow that made my throat hurt…he sounded almost like he was holding back tears. I still don’t know if I liked it or not. But having watched the movie 7,000 times as a kid, I don’t think anyone can ever do it the same justice as Judy.
I liked the puppets. You find the most interesting animated shorts!
Froog says
You spoil us, John. Sometimes these comment threads become even more of a treasurehouse than the original post.
John says
cynth: Did you see there’s a new movie out, a documentary bio of Harry Nilsson?
He was a really good vocalist, I thought. Most people say his best album was Nilsson Schmilsson, but my favorite — which I haven’t heard in years — was A Little Touch Of Schmilsson In The Night. Guess what was the closing track? If I get a chance I’ll post it this weekend.
Froog: Turnabout is as they say fair play. If my commenters are going to insist on being intelligent, always engaging me, then I’m going to have to go where they’ve led me!
Andrew M. says
What a delight to be mentioned, and it’s nice to be a part of the lovely thread running through your post.
In the interests of exactitude, the bit you quoted is a fragment of a newspaper column by Capek published in the newspaper Lidové noviny (People’s News) on 6 Sep. 1925.
I know this because “Philemon,” the editorial name for the column in its entirety, was a part of a posthumously-assembled work called “Bajky and podpovidky.” (This is distinct from “The Gardener’s Year,” printed during his lifetime.)
To make a potentially long story shorter, I got all this information from a Czech copy of the book, and gave my hand towards translating the whole thing here.
John says
Andrew: Thank you for stopping by and offering the exactitude, a commodity not always plentiful on the Web!
I have to confess I know nothing at all of Capek’s life. On the off-chance you see this reply, is there a bio you would recommend? (Yes, in English please. :))
Andrew M. says
This recent book is probably a start; Klima writes well and Comrada has translated a heck of a lot of Capek. I confess to not having read it myself…but I’m rectifying that now.
John says
Andrew: Thanks for the recommendation! I can’t speak regarding this specific book (yet), but Catbird Press is an excellent small publisher — not exclusively, but especially, of Czech-to-English translations.