Alexa Mergen's Blog - Posts Tagged "kenneth-grahame"
The Poetry Cure
When Ratty packs a satchel to leave his riverfront hole for a fantasized life at sea, Mole intercepts him. Under the spell of promised adventure, leaving home seems to Rat like the "inevitable and only thing." He's lost interest in daily life; all seems dull.
Casually, with seeming indifference, Mole begins to talk of the harvest, "the growing ricks, and the large moon rising over bare acres dotted with sheaves." Describing red apples and brown nuts he becomes lyrical and Rat, by degrees, sits up and loses his listlessness. Mole tactfully slips away and returns with paper and pencil, placing it at his friend's elbow saying, "It's quite a long time since you did any poetry....I've an idea you'll feel a lot better when you've got something jotted down."
Mole leaves the room. Peeping in later, he finds Rat "absorbed" in scribbling and knows "the cure had at least begun."
Yes. This is the poetry cure for malaise be it in Kenneth Grahame's willow world or our 21st-century one. Start scribbling, even "if it's only just the rhymes," as Mole says. Through observation and interpretation of what's nearest to us, we paddle the river of time. The paradox of story-telling--that the universal is found in the particulars--applies to life, too. A friend's face, a neighbor's gift--that which is immediate--reminds us we are part of something, here, to take part.
Casually, with seeming indifference, Mole begins to talk of the harvest, "the growing ricks, and the large moon rising over bare acres dotted with sheaves." Describing red apples and brown nuts he becomes lyrical and Rat, by degrees, sits up and loses his listlessness. Mole tactfully slips away and returns with paper and pencil, placing it at his friend's elbow saying, "It's quite a long time since you did any poetry....I've an idea you'll feel a lot better when you've got something jotted down."
Mole leaves the room. Peeping in later, he finds Rat "absorbed" in scribbling and knows "the cure had at least begun."
Yes. This is the poetry cure for malaise be it in Kenneth Grahame's willow world or our 21st-century one. Start scribbling, even "if it's only just the rhymes," as Mole says. Through observation and interpretation of what's nearest to us, we paddle the river of time. The paradox of story-telling--that the universal is found in the particulars--applies to life, too. A friend's face, a neighbor's gift--that which is immediate--reminds us we are part of something, here, to take part.
