Some things are better left unsaid. Really? And what do you do with them, since they cannot be left unfelt? Where do they go? To the same place as Broken Dreams and Missed Opportunities? Where is it? I know where it is, but I don´t think there´s enough room any longer.
Countless times the words stop in my throat, and go back in. And they stay there, mocking me for not being brave enough to have said them. Words can be quite scary. Glances and gestures many times give you the benefit of the doubt, but not loud and clear words. And once they are out, they cannot be taken in again.
The written word is no different. Poems and stories are like people. Once you´ve met them, even in a brief encounter, they´re there forever. When you think they´ve disappeared, they pop out of nowhere in your dreams, in a song, in a stranger´s face.
I have a deep respect for stories. There are books and movies in my shelves waiting to be read or seen, and still, I haven´t found the courage to do so. I want them, but I fear the change their words might cause. Crazy, I know. As Paul Auster said in a recent interview, […]clarity, I think, is the most unsettling thing possible. It allows the reader, in some sense, if you can do it well, ideally to forget that the medium of expression is language. You´re just somehow in what the words are saying. You´re not even thinking about the words anymore.[…] . If that can be achieved, then the story becomes part of you. It enters your mind and soul and finds a place to stay. That can be unsettling, but it is part of the experience of being alive.
At the same time, there are poems and stories I go back to frequently, because they resonate inside of me. They´re comfortable, and have a face I like to look at. They keep me alive, also, but in a different way.
These days I want to say and hear the unsaid . What is kept in that labyrinthian and misty place within my heart.
13 comments:
Thanks for this Luciana. I got a lot from it. I listened to all of the Paul Auster interview and discovered the bit you refer to is in the closing seconds. It was worth while to listen to all of it, though I don't suppose I would ever read any of his books.
What you say interests me because it's almost the opposite of the way I think about writing and speaking. I love the architecture of sentences.
And I know that my besetting problem in blog posts is a lack of clarity: not that anything is vague or abstract, very much the opposite, but the way it all hangs together is unclear: what is the thread connecting all the parts? But it's only a blog. I use it for interaction, for exercises, for doing my soliloquies on stage. If I am writing a book, it is quite different.
I only wrote one till now, an assisted autobiography (series of interviews) and I wasn't satisfied with the result, but that was because the subject had led a rather dull life. His one claim to fame could have been compressed into 5000 words.
But in the last couple of days, I've met (re-met) someone whose life interests me greatly, who admires my writing and would like me to help write his story, one involving Mexico and having a magic touch like Midas, and sailing with one companion across the Pacific, and despair and narrowly escaping death and discovering his soul through spiritual rebirth: themes so obsessively explored in Joseph Conrad! And even a series of messages in bottles thrown overboard from his boat, in desperation, he showed me one, tattered and stained, along with the note received in reply. And also a handwritten diary of those months. I can't talk about it on my blog because he might read it! (I wrote about him before and feared to show him, but he loved what I wrote.)
Should this be better left unsaid for the moment? Then what do I do with it, for saying is a way of feeling and knowing and discovering, isn't it?
I ask myself why I should tell you, Luciana. Then I see you are the captain of your own yacht, going across Luciana's Ocean.
You want to say and hear the unsaid. Amen to that! And just as you choose to translate the work of others - from the heart - I choose, or Fate chooses for me, perhaps, to translate the passions of another person into public words; for if I don't enter into this collaboration with him, he'll spend his life like Coleridge's Ancient Mariner, telling his tale to passers-by who listen with reluctance:
He holds him with his glittering eye--
The Wedding-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years' child:
The Mariner hath his will.
The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:
He cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.
I have a yacht, now? Most of the times I feel I´m sailing a bamboo raft.
Dear Vincent, I´ll translate Miguel Torga´s "Vicente" for you. I promise. You are that Raven, and I say it in the best possible way, because I like ravens very much.
Lu, This is beautifully expressed. You've captured the experience in such a way that I'm on the edge of my seat saying, yes, yes! I know what you mean; I feel that way too. Wonderful!
I read "Man in the Dark" and enjoyed it very much.
Lu,
I think most of us have those unsaid moments. And unsaid can be great writings. Yes, it requires courage. I hope you can write it out later. I’m ready to listen.
Also I have a huge unsaid right now, but I have to wait until I’m certain that my writing will reveal a part of myself plus I have to make sure I’m writing out of my love to the person without doubts.
Sometimes I wish we were simpler creatures, don´t you, Rebb? Simple is hard, but I hope to achieve it one day.
You feel the words stuck in your throat, too?
I don´t know if happens to you, too, but I hate it when I finally get to say what I want to say, after giving thousands of signals of what I mean and how I feel, and people go: Oh, why didn´t you say that before? ;-)
Keiko, you left me very curious here... I´m not very talkative, but I´m a very good listener. You know how to find me in case you need. :-)
You´re right about writing. It gives the chance to people like me, who don´t like to talk very much, to express themselves.
Lu, It sure would be nice if we were simpler creatures. Simple is hard, but achievable. Yes, words get stuck in my throat often. Yep, those famous words: “why didn´t you say that before?” It would be nice if people could read our signals ;)
Funny, I wouldn’t picture you as not talkative, Lu. I don’t like to talk verbally very much either to express myself. In fact, I fumble over my words; and depending on the situation, it’s either bad or worst. I’ve gotten better, but mostly I talk with writing the words or doodling with pens and paints. I’ve taken more chances with my writing too—with sharing who I am. This is not something that I would have done years ago, but it seems to get easier and almost feels necessary to get something out so it doesn’t stay trapped inside.
Keiko,
When you are ready and find the right way to share, I look forward to reading and learning about your “unsaids.” I look forward to all of the “unsaids” we are all able to release.
Lu I haven't yet thanked you advance for a translation of Miguel Torga's Vicente. Never mind if it takes years! - for as this post shows, and the comments which hang from it, we are fuelled and excited by possibility or even impossibility as if they are tangible things; words being the conjurers which summon that which is not (the "uso" in Japanese?) as easily as that which is.
But words, in our great Javanese gamelan of language, (yes I mean Javanese, not Japanese) can only resonate when they are struck with sticks of truth.
I've read "Vicente" already...and had the unpleasant experience of analysing it as a piece of literature..instead of admiring it just as a piece of art, a piece of fine art. Really liked that tale!
And..Lu..wooooow...Those words were so bright and smart...my English is not good enough to express it..That's great..you for the thing most people runaway from...the unsaid..either becuase they're (we're) afraid of saying or listening to them. it'd make things a lot easier if we, as humans, could work on that..an open mind to listen an say things..and understand people..and have the right to say something's wrong..something hurts and sometimes hurts badly..
I asked myself sometimes why we don't feel..or see the right moment for the "unsaid"..but that was worthless..discovered I should focus on saying things..'cause there's no recipe for an unsaid cake..you just got to make over and over 'till it tastes better and better.
Thanks for sharing so deep thoughts..don't get offended, please..but it was worth more then a psychologist session! =)
Don´t worry, Bi, I won´t get offended by that.
Truth is I think I´m finally getting old enough to allow myself certain failures. The funny thing is that when we´re able to do that, we begin noticing hundreds of hidden paths that were there all the time, and we take them. Let me tell you, they lead to incredible worlds. :-)
Lu,
Your response to Bianca is how I'm beginning to feel too. I always imagined that this silent little creature--me--would one day at maybe age 50something start to come out of her shell in such a way that would surprise even herself. But I'm thinking I better start crawling out sooner than that! :-)
We each have our own time. :-)
On a lighter note, Rebb, let´s ask our blogger friends to signal us if we start sounding too much like Thelma and Louise here. :-D
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