If it was true, if it was true, I would be sitting at one window
All one morning, testing the strength of the color blue. Is
Blue strong enough to surround and defeat all the other
Colors? Can the pervasiveness of blue make all other
Dreams surrender? Can it heal anything left behind?
Can it take me to the country where every step matters
And is felt, instead of lost? That would be our country,
Mine and Blue’s, blue as soft and true as indifference and
Forgetting, as remembering and making a monument to
Remembering, which is the science of incorporation of
Blues, of flags, counting the sciences, and resources,
And abilities, and losses, and diminishings, the belief in
Elements, and their overlap, and the invisible unsayable
Still unfound—something not in the Forest House, something
Far beyond.
F
Fiercely Tender: The Simple Complex World of Michael Ondaatje’s Novels
Shortly afterwards in that novel we encounter a celebration of the body, grime and all, unimpeded by this abstraction called mind. While writing the body might seem not altogether unusual, my point is that you cannot simply assume its naturalness. Language, even fictional language, is so much of a mentally...