conjurers
conjure: to call or bring into existence by or as if by magic, to call or bring to mind; evoke
The other day I gazed out at my garden (do not think large, do not think spreading acres of foliage...mine is a strip of land not 4 paces long sidled up against my wall.) The day was grey. The garden was winter untended, straggly, and slightly sad. Near my garden stands a maple tree; on that day it looked droopy and balding ~ old somehow. I thought of Shakespeare :
Sonnet 73 :
That time of year thou mayst in me behold,
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs, which shake against the cold.
I can imagine Shakespeare, one late Autumn day, standing musing as I was
As I stood, a word came wandering into my brain: dreary. It wandered in and conjured up some friends: dismal, disconsolate. And these too were conjurers: they stirred images of grey and dun, desolation and doleful despondency. They conjured too the emotions of the mood. It was no longer just the garden ~ I felt bleak. Words are like that -- conjurers. They bring with them more than sound, if we will attend. They carry with them magic: power to carry us away, power to fill us to the brim with meaning and ken. They were full of power on that day. Like the witches that open MacBeth, these words came conjuring, working all their power on my mind and mood till all was grey, all was bleak. Of a mind to wrench the power away, I went and looked them up ~ these masters of dole incantation.
Dreary -- it means gloomy or sad, but its etymology is dreorig and means gory and bloody. It is intriguing to me that it did not carry forward to gore, but to sadness. But even if the "blood and gore" was a surprize, it wasn't, at the same time, because the word is onomatopoeia for deep, chasmy, sullen sadness.
Desolate -- it means barren, laid waste; having the feeling of being deprived of friends or of hope. Wow! Its etymology is de-solare : to make lonely. It almost echos: lonely.
Dismal -- it means causing gloom or dejection, cheerless. Synonyms are : hopeless, abysmal, dreadful.
Looking at these words from root to tip I see again, even in this foul heath of darkness that they brought, the power of words and why I love them. As I have said, they are conjurers: magicians, workers of wonder, full of power, transformers. It is not enough to me to say them, to use them, scattering them thorough conversations. I must see them, taking them apart seam by seam. Some, like these, have power to turn your very heart to grey. Others take you to the heart of a culture or the depth of an idea. Some draw pictures in your mind adding color and texture. They make you see and feel, know and understand.
The other day I gazed out at my garden (do not think large, do not think spreading acres of foliage...mine is a strip of land not 4 paces long sidled up against my wall.) The day was grey. The garden was winter untended, straggly, and slightly sad. Near my garden stands a maple tree; on that day it looked droopy and balding ~ old somehow. I thought of Shakespeare :
Sonnet 73 :
That time of year thou mayst in me behold,
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs, which shake against the cold.
I can imagine Shakespeare, one late Autumn day, standing musing as I was
As I stood, a word came wandering into my brain: dreary. It wandered in and conjured up some friends: dismal, disconsolate. And these too were conjurers: they stirred images of grey and dun, desolation and doleful despondency. They conjured too the emotions of the mood. It was no longer just the garden ~ I felt bleak. Words are like that -- conjurers. They bring with them more than sound, if we will attend. They carry with them magic: power to carry us away, power to fill us to the brim with meaning and ken. They were full of power on that day. Like the witches that open MacBeth, these words came conjuring, working all their power on my mind and mood till all was grey, all was bleak. Of a mind to wrench the power away, I went and looked them up ~ these masters of dole incantation.
Dreary -- it means gloomy or sad, but its etymology is dreorig and means gory and bloody. It is intriguing to me that it did not carry forward to gore, but to sadness. But even if the "blood and gore" was a surprize, it wasn't, at the same time, because the word is onomatopoeia for deep, chasmy, sullen sadness.
Desolate -- it means barren, laid waste; having the feeling of being deprived of friends or of hope. Wow! Its etymology is de-solare : to make lonely. It almost echos: lonely.
Dismal -- it means causing gloom or dejection, cheerless. Synonyms are : hopeless, abysmal, dreadful.
Looking at these words from root to tip I see again, even in this foul heath of darkness that they brought, the power of words and why I love them. As I have said, they are conjurers: magicians, workers of wonder, full of power, transformers. It is not enough to me to say them, to use them, scattering them thorough conversations. I must see them, taking them apart seam by seam. Some, like these, have power to turn your very heart to grey. Others take you to the heart of a culture or the depth of an idea. Some draw pictures in your mind adding color and texture. They make you see and feel, know and understand.
Oh yes, you have "The Gift." Welcome to the club! The turn of phrase, the delicate use of the vernacular, the textured nuance of sculptured phrasing. I love the way you write and think! You draw me in and make me think, which is what good, nay, excellent writers possess. The title of your posting made me instantly think of Gandalf the Grey saying "Do not take for some conjurer of cheap tricks." I look forward to your "Gentle Musings and Wild Rantings."
ReplyDeleteSo this is why you must write. You will right much, because you write much - my turn of a phrase - and you can take me for a conjurer of cheap tricks. But, mom as I read this my first thought was wow this would be great for a preface for a series of essays... a book if you will. Then when you look at it, it is your preface - its post the beginning of whats to come!
ReplyDeleteI agree with Jeff, and have thought the same for some time!