The Power of Art
by George Santayana
Not human art, but living gods alone
Can fashion beauties that by changing live,--
Her buds to spring, his fruits to autumn give,
To earth her fountains in her heart of stone;
But these in their begetting are o'erthrown,
Nor may the sentenced minutes find reprieve;
And summer in the blush of joy must grieve
To shed his flaunting crown of petals blown.
We to our works may not impart our breath,
Nor them with shifting light of life array;
We show but what one happy moment saith;
Yet may our hands immortalize the day
When life was sweet, and save from utter death
The sacred past that should not pass away.
Wednesday, May 12, 2021
We Show but What One Happy Moment Saith
Login
?
Anonymous
0 points
9 years ago
Ah, good, this gives me time to get another copy of Villette. I finished it in a late-night spurt that took me to 3am, and then gave it to a friend who was passing through before a transatlantic flight. There certainly is a lot to say about it, starting with the fascinating unreliability of the narrator herself.
B
branemrys
0 points
9 years ago
There are indeed some interesting things about the way the narrator is handled here, along with this omnipresent theme of surveillance.
?
Anonymous
0 points
9 years ago
+JMJ+
I'm still in the first half of Villette myself. It has been an interesting read so far, and I just may get a Reading Diary entry out of it, too!
Enbrethiliel
B
branemrys
0 points
9 years ago
I'll keep any eye out for it!
E
Enbrethiliel
0 points
9 years ago
+JMJ+
By the way, that link about Iceland's faeries is the best thing I've read all week! (Eat your heart out, Charlotte Bronte!) I must confess, though, that the best part was the indignant commenter who took out her frustration at an ostensibly secular government's decision in favour of the supernatural by insulting every other commenter who shared a personal eerie encounter. LOL!
B
branemrys
0 points
9 years ago
It is a bit funny how quickly that escalated.