On loss

[kaberett]

Hey. I'm Alex; you might have seen me around here before. I'm hosting this week, and I'm going to be focusing on change: all else aside, this weekend I moved cities and started a new job. So. I'm going to start by introducing you to a poem about loss.

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

—-Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

-- Elizabeth Bishop

Loss is not, of course, the only form of change, and I'll be talking more about several of the others over the course of this week. I'm sorry that all I have to offer you today is this poem, but I'd love for you to talk about your own favourites on this topic, or to talk about this poem. (I love, too, the odd constraints of the villanelle, and how they always feel slightly uncomfortable to me. This is reflected, I think, in my favourite villanelles, which are all, yes, about uncomfortable topics.)

Comments

[fyreharper]

The art of losing isn't hard to master

And yet; and yet. Doesn't that mean it's supposed to get easier?

I'd have said mastery is not just doing, but doing well. Losing is simple; facing loss with grace is hard.

[alee_grrl]

The whole of the poem reads to me like someone trying to convince themselves of the fact. There was a definite tension for me between the concept of letting go gracefully and the reality of it. This reminded me of break-up songs where the singer claims to be completely okay with the situation but is actually really torn up, especially with the last stanza and that last line with "(Write it!)" added. I absolutely agree with you statement that losing is simple but facing loss gracefully is hard.

[kaberett]

I really love alee_girl's interpretation, about how - the losing is easy, but the grace is hard.

I -- so many feelings about learning to deal with change and with loss gracefully, and with dignity, but also with honesty and without repression; I'm not sure how well this one does at that last bit, but -- it is something I come back to, over and over, to try to remind myself that, if nothing else, I am not the only one.

[calissa]

This poem is an old friend, though one I've not seen in some years. It is lovely to see it again here.

Much has changed since I last encountered this poem. I've lost a grandfather, for one, who in turn had lost large chunks of memory before he died.

I find myself wondering whether views on this poem really come down to how the word 'disaster' is interpreted. The last stanza puts me in mind of the phrase 'anything that doesn't kill you makes you stronger'.

I'm reminded of another poem about loss. I'm going to have to track it down and post a link.

While I enjoy poetry, I don't actually know much about poetry forms. I'm off to research villanelles for a bit.

[jjhunter]

:o)

You might enjoy previous posts here at the comm about the villanelle format.

[calissa]

Thank you! I shall definitely check it out.

[kaberett]

I think a lot of it is trying to convince oneself that loss is not an utter destruction and utter ending; that it cannot always spread its tendrils through everything one does, that it does not scour one wholly clean.

-- though of course sometimes it does, and learning to live through and with that is... yet another challenge to face.

[calissa]

Ah, here it is. A poem called "Lost and Found". It forms the first section of this blog post

[kaberett]

oh goodness, I am shivering and goosebumped all over. That is - beautiful, and poignant, and so very relevant to so very much of how I feel, and - thank you, thank you, thank you for feeling its resonance and for sharing it.

[calissa]

I'm glad it held such resonance for you.

[luzula]

Ha, I am in the same position as you re: new job and new city (although I have also ended a relationship at the same time). So this really speaks to me. I've read this poem before, but not for a while, and I read it out loud twice now to myself. As others have said, there's a tension in it, and I found myself echoing that in the different ways it can come out when I read it--how much bitterness and sadness do I let through in my voice? How much acceptance? I guess that depends on where I myself am in my life. I mean, it's really a universal subject--we've all lost things.

[kaberett]

Oh, that's lovely - I now sort of want to create an art installation that includes lots of people reading out this poem, or perhaps one person reading it out lots of times!

I'm sorry that you have so much going on simultaneously as well; I know it... isn't terribly easy. I reached for this, rather than for any of the others I love, because it's about such a variety of losses, and -- yes.

[jjhunter]

If you'd be interested in doing something like that this week (a la
"Downtown Women": Five Audio Recordings, perhaps?), POETREE has a shiny new community SoundCloud account for hosting audio recordings - we're happy to facilitate uploading / embedding for posting if you want to solicit recordings. :o)

[luzula]

I must've read it out loud ten times more by now, so I'd be happy to contribute if you wanted to make that installation. : )

Much sympathy for your losses and changes as well.