|
|
XXVI. CAVAFY COMES OUT TO ALEXANDRIA. REWRITTEN POEMS Nos. 35 - 40.
|
|
In ‘Alexandrian Kings’ Cavafy speaks of the cynicism and worldliness of the Alexandrians, their knowingness. It’s not the first time we have found this inference drawn in his verse; it’s a staple backdrop to his historical divagations. I wonder if he was counting on this sophistication when he decided to partially drop the veil on his sexual preference?
Cavafy’s coming out ceremony was curious; and it was public. The details are given in Robert Liddell’s essential biography published by Duckworth - if you do not yet have a copy of this fascinating book, try to obtain the original edition which has many wonderful sepia photographs of the poet’s flat at Rue Lepsius and pictures of his family. These are unfortunately missing in the paperback reprint.
The date was 23 February 1918. Cavafy’s young friend Alexander Singopoulos was to deliver a lecture (actually written by the poet himself) in which four poems were read and analyzed: Dodgy Impulses (30); Return (37); Letting Go (40) and Across the Distance (43). These poems are revealingly autobiographical and many must have realised that they referred to homosexual passions despite being written in such a way that the sex of the love-object is not stated. Such non-specificity is apparently possible in Greek - and in English also if the words are carefully chosen as in my rewriting of 30, 37 and 40; although not in 43 where I refer to ‘his skin’ and ‘his eyes’.
I omit the amusing details of how a group of rivals attempted to incapacitate poor Alexander by plying him with strong drink before the lecture; after which they bundled him into a horse-drawn vehicle going in the wrong direction. He jumped out of the gharry when he realised what was going on and managed to get to the lecture hall in time, although rather breathless and tipsy.
The reading and lecture caused a minor scandal (perhaps the then modern-day Alexandrians were not quite so broad-minded as their ancient counterparts) and Madame Tsimbouki and her daughter, ladies of some standing no doubt, ostentatiously left the hall when the extent of the poet’s apparent deviancy became all too clear.
It was a bold step on Cavafy’s part, and a brave one. Or, since he was hiding behing the figure of Alexander Singopoulos, perhaps not so individually courageous. Cavafy was 54 at the time and perhaps his maturity had emboldened him; he had seen something of life and was probably not so nervous about his sexuality as he had been as a young man. Nonetheless, even in the somewhat relaxed atmosphere of the Nile Delta, there were certain things best left unsaid in those far-off days, and Cavafy’s courage should be recognised.
Charles Bryant, 30 March 2005.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
35. ALEXANDRIAN KINGS
the Alexandrians came flocking
to see Cleopatra’s children
Alexander, Ptolemy, Kaisarion,
her pretty sons.
it was quite a holiday.
they all trooped off to the Field of Exercise
with music, marching, singing,
horses, chariots and banners.
there, in front of the cheering army
(such a shout went up from deep-voiced men!
such a rattle of harness-chains
from bucking, stamping steeds!)
the boys were hailed as kings.
Alexander Helios (hurrah! hurrah!)
by public proclamation now became
sole master of Armenia, Parthia
and Syria - an enormous sprawling landmass
for one small shy boy.
Ptolemy Philadelphus (hooray! hooray!)
laughing and gurgling, happily clutched
Syria, Phoenicia, Cilicia
in his little dimpled podgy arms.
Kaisarion, the eldest of the boys,
son of conquering Caesar,
stood to the fore, his robe pink-tinted silk,
sweet-smelling hyacinths pinned to his breast
above a blazing belt richly studded
with amethysts and sapphires;
stiffened white ribbons sewn with rosy pearls
tied his leather shoes. greater than his brothers,
eldest of the three, it had been decided
to name him King of Kings.
the cynical Alexandrians, of course -
the worldly Alexandrians - were aware
that this was all just talk.
nonetheless the day was like a poem,
a warm idyll, the pale blue sky
diaphanous above the Field of Exercise,
the courtiers glittering with jewels and gold,
Kaisarion himself a graceful long-legged
beauty of a youth
blessed with his mother’s beauty, her in the boy.
the Alexandrians loved it, loved it all,
laughing and cheering, throwing up their arms,
shouting in Greek and Egyptian and in Hebrew
enchanted by the spectacle -
although of course they had a shrewd idea
(they knew a thing or three)
of the true worth of these sounding titles,
these somewhat flyblown kingships.
36. IN THE CHURCH
entering the church, i have to shiver
with wonder
(some future person walks upon my grave)
Constantine’s embroidered standard
glows in the semi-darkness
amid the gleam of sacred silver vessels
and tall hierarchical candlesticks
ranged on the altar
the pulpit, the watching ikons,
the flicker of smoking lamps….
this church of the Greeks
with heady smell of exotic incense
soaked and smoked into the very furniture,
into the walls.
the stirring chanting of harmonious voices,
tall handsome and imposing priests
draped in dazzling vestments,
their slow, enacted, comely
postures and gestures -
surrounded by all this,
this dignity, this glory,
my reverent thought
records and wonders at
the still unfaded splendours
of Byzantium.
37. RETURN
take me
come back and take me
fill me with longing
buzz inside my skull
make my temples throbbing pillars
Samson me and pull me down
electric urge, return
take me and fill me again
my mind remembers
how fervently recalls
sensations of the body
lips skin and hands
touching
take me
come back and take me
at night
when half-opened moistened lips
panting panting
and tingling flesh recall….
38. BE DETERMINED
if you can’t shape your life
to your own curve
or carve it in the fashion you desire
at least don’t bend it
to blend with your surroundings
or cheapen it
make it cheap with
too much social contact
meaningless activity
endless talk
do not let them spoil you
don’t degrade your being
by exposing what’s most precious
to the infinite insipidity
of endless pointless parties
to the extent that you come to view yourself
as a tiresome visitor who will not leave
39. NOT OFTEN
a tired bent old man
blasted by age and excess
twisted by time
hobbles up a side street
but when he enters his house
his own warm haven
shabby though it is
a feeling of vigour returns
he stretches his limbs
aware that a certain set
a coterie of youngsters
quotes his precious verses
sees what he had seen
their erotic understanding
and their eager sensual bodies
move to his vision of fulfilled desire
40. LETTING GO
i didn’t hold back
i let myself go completely
like a suicide leaping from cliffs
to those sensual pleasures
half real and half imagined
under a brilliant full moon
on a magically cloudless night
drinking glass after glass of strong wine
inebriated by my own indulgence
intoxicated by unacceptable excess
|
Links:
|
|
