Thou art a scholar, Lycius, and must know
That finer spirits cannot breathe below
In human climes, and live: Alas! Poor youth,
What taste of purer air hast thou to soothe
My essence? What serener palaces,
Where I may all my many senses please,
And by mysterious sleights a hundred thirsts appease?
- John Keats, "Lamia"
I read these lines in Heather's Bakery Cafe in Georgetown not too long after I had returned to Brampton. I was trying to get some romantic poetry under my belt, as I had been studying Yeats, whose work comes very much out of the romantic tradition.
Anyways, the point is that I was not happy to be back in Brampton. I had spent the last four years in some wonderful places (and yes, dammit, I count Pittsburgh among those wonderful places) and had my head buried in literature for much of that time. Then, to top it all off, I had spent the month and a half previous in Ireland, visiting the homes and graves and favourite magical spots of some of the greatest authors in the English language... and here I was back in Brampton. When Lamia (a Greek mythological heroine) said that she could not "breathe below in human climes/and live," I felt the same way: I imagined Brampton to be a completely arid, barren place, with a constricting atmosphere that threatened to choke the life out of me. I felt that there was no art here, no joy taken in anything beyond what you can buy at a strip plaza.
Dramatic, I know - but I had spent the last few months reading pretty hyperbolic poetry.
10 months later, I can report that, while I did not choke on the grimy climes of Brampton, I am pretty certain that this place will never "soothe my essence" or appease all my thirsts. At the same time (and this is something I've realized before but forgotten), I realize that no place can really satisfy or fulfill you - rather, it's the people you know there, and the time you put into relationships, that define any place you find yourself in. You might make any place a "serener palace," if you're willing to try.
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5 comments:
hey you tricked me? i was expecting to help out some rich nigerian prince, but instead i have to read through his crap?!! where's my money!!!
Listen, my contact in Nigeria really DOES want to give you 3000 Nigerian cowries, but in order to process it through the messy post-colonial bureacracy, he needs you to wire him $5000 U.S. dollars (which, of course, he will reimburse you for immediately after you name your first child in his honour).
EH you got a problem with Brampton?
Lloyd doesn't......if it's good enough for Lloyd it's good enough for me son!
hey!! the currency of Nigeria is the Naira! something doesn't smell right.
Mike, I was being intentionally duplicitous...cowries were the pre-colonial currency of Nigeria (i.e. they were used before Europeans arrived, when Nigerian society was still agrarian, clan-based). Basically, cowries are little seashell-type thingies that are (besides their historical interest)worthless today. Thanks for letting me know about the Naira!
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