Book of Mercy #16-19

[DBCohen]

This is the fifth part in the ongoing discussion of BoM. Here is the next prayer from the book:

I.16
Return, spirit, to this lowly place. Come down. There is no path where you project yourself. Come down; from here you can look at the sky. From here you can begin to climb. Draw back your song from the middle air where you cannot follow it. Close down these shaking towers you have built toward your vertigo. You do not know how to bind your heart to the skylark, or your eyes to the hardened blue hills. Return to the sorrow in which you have hidden your truth. Kneel here, search here, with both hands, the cat’s cradle of your tiny distress. Listen to the one who has not been wounded, the one who says, ‘It is not good that man should be alone.’ Recall your longing to the loneliness where it was born, so that when she appears, she will stand before you, not against you. Refine your longing here, in the small silver music of her preparations, under the low-built shelter of repentance.

I’ll limit my commentary this time to just a few points. Those who’ve been following our discussion will find some familiar themes, such as loneliness and repentance, but, as always, there are also some new ideas or ways of expression.

Return, spirit, to this lowly place. – This may have been inspired by Psalm 116:7: “Return, O my soul, to your rest; for the LORD has dealt bountifully with you.” But here there is no return to rest, but rather to a lowly place, to suffering. However, this going down leads to an uplifting. This is a well known idea in the history of religion: purification through suffering, or in a more radical way, finding redemption through sin (and think of Beautiful Losers).

‘It is not good that man should be alone.’ – This, of course, is from Genesis 2:18, when God decided to create the woman to keep man company (note that in the other version of the creation story, in Genesis 1:27, both man and woman are created simultaneously, and in the image of God). And a famous Hebrew poet, Nathan Zach, wrote in a poem: “It is not good that man should be alone / but he is alone anyhow”.

so that when she appears, she will stand before you, not against you. – In the remainder of the verse in Genesis 2:18 God says: “I will make him a helper fit for him.” The original Hebrew word translated as “fit for him” can also mean “against him”. There is a famous Hebrew interpretation, of which LC seems to be aware, according to which if a man deserves it (or if he is lucky) his wife fits him and assists him, and if not, then she turns against him.

[lizzytysh]

I'm glad to see you continuing with this, Doron. I've been wondering when it would be picking back up.


~ Lizzy

[lazariuk]

Doron I share with you that thought about "finding redemption through sin"
on my first taste of this I feel that it has the same flavor of

Why do you stand by the window
Abandoned to beauty and pride
The thorn of the night in your bosom
The spear of the age in your side
Lost in the rages of fragrance
Lost in the rags of remorse
Lost in the waves of a sickness
That loosens the high silver nerves
Oh chosen love, Oh frozen love
Oh tangle of matter and ghost
Oh darling of angels, demons and saints
And the whole broken-hearted host
Gentle this soul

And come forth from the cloud of unknowing
And kiss the cheek of the moon

I think I felt that it had a taste because it made me think about "kiss the cheek of the moon"

It also reminded me of some of the lyrics that Leonard wrote for Night Magic that spoke of the plight of angels.

and finally it reminded me of a poem that a young woman once posted to alt.music.leonard-cohen

The angel stepped into the street for the first time
Her hair was still tangled in pieces of sky
And her eyes were uncertain and her bare feet were hurting
'Cause her dusty wings knew it was sinful to fly

With a white-knuckled grip on her tarnished gold crown
She bloodied her soles as she wandered the town
She was looking for Nothing which couldn't be found
Until Nobody showed her around

He was standing in an alley, and he watched her go by
When he noticed her halo he started to cry
He said 'Somebody told me that you'd be coming by
I've been waiting here all of this time!'

And the angel looked up at him, a little surprised
Then she spoke to him slowly with shame in her eyes
She said, 'I'm sorry, you're mistaken... this is just a disguise'
But Nobody saw through her lies

He took out a cig and struck a match on his mind
And the flame let her know that his dark eyes were kind
When he spoke to her smoke followed closely behind
When he finished, she saw she was blind

'Well I've told you my story, now I'd like to know
How long till you do it, How long till I go?
I've been waiting, as I mentioned, and the waiting's been slow
Will you bear me on wings, or am I headed down below?'

He said it didn't matter, but the angel turned away
Her knees quaked in anguish and her features grew gray
For she knew he would hate her for what she would say
She braced herself to face him, but crumpled anyway

She told how she'd sinned, how she'd worn out her crown
She told how she'd ruined her pristine white gown
She told how she'd fallen hard upon the ground
All this, without making a sound

As she poured out her heart, Nobody passed her a smoke
And he watched her until he was sure she was broken
Then half as a kindness and half as a joke
He blew smoke rings above her and gave her a poke

'They're halos,' he said, then he blew at them and grinned
'If you can't be an angel, you might as well sin
You must understand darkness, to know how the light gets in
(You'll find brimstones burn beautiful holes in the skin...)'

Julie Stein - Posted from another thread without her permission

[lazariuk]

I.16
Return, spirit, to this lowly place. Come down. There is no path where you project yourself. Come down; from here you can look at the sky. From here you can begin to climb. Draw back your song from the middle air where you cannot follow it. Close down these shaking towers you have built toward your vertigo. You do not know how to bind your heart to the skylark, or your eyes to the hardened blue hills. Return to the sorrow in which you have hidden your truth. Kneel here, search here, with both hands, the cat’s cradle of your tiny distress. Listen to the one who has not been wounded, the one who says, ‘It is not good that man should be alone.’ Recall your longing to the loneliness where it was born, so that when she appears, she will stand before you, not against you. Refine your longing here, in the small silver music of her preparations, under the low-built shelter of repentance.

Everything here seems to have turned around. In the last the picture I had was of Leonard praying and here it seems like he is being prayed. It seems similar to me to the song "The Window" which Leonard said was a prayer for the two to come together. What I thought he meant was the soul and the spirit. His prayer before seemed like he was trying to save his soul and what it led to was learning that it is his soul that is trying to save him. The soul is female.
His spirit has tried to fly on it's own but could only go so high but no higher. She tells him that he does not know how to bind his heart to the skylark. The major use of skylark in the history of literature was "Ode to a Skylark" by Shelley and he begins it with "Hail to thee, blithe Spirit"
It is commonly thought to be a symbol for the poet. To be a pure poet you need to be able to fly to a height where you cannot be seen and have your song heard from there.
So his soul is praying him back to the world. Back through sin. I like the idea that Doron had of redemption through sin. What made me like it more was recently learning that the etymological origins of the word dialogue have a flowing-through meaning. You dialogue to bring someone through something. She is praying him back into the world and her voice is speaking from the place before sin, where the one says "‘It is not good that man should be alone" She is reminding him of a place where his humanness is not sinful to help him overcome the feeling that the direction might look sinful. She speaks of the one as being a she to remind him that he was sent out through a she. It was she that brought him into the world and it is she that he must learn to please and not the wounded one and the one he has been praying to. She also reminds him that he can only go as far back as the tiny bit of world that he can touch with his hands. She brings attention to his hands and uses the words "the cat’s cradle of your tiny distress". That especially makes me think about the song "The Window" with "tangled with matter and ghost" and also in an earlier part of this book the image of "coils of defeat" making me think of strings that could have been used to play cat's cradle but most what I think of is the picture of someone with their hands entwined together as in prayer. She seems to invite him to find other uses for those hands, maybe for him to truly learn how soft a woman's skin is.

This is getting kind of sexy to me and I am curious to see what comes next as he gets prayed through sin.

[Manna]

I'm still thinking and don't have much to say yet, but this little section of a song I know came to mind, so I thought I'd share it.

Meet me, Jesus, meet me.
Meet me in the middle of the air.
And if my wings should fail me,
meet me with nine more pair.

[lazariuk]

I.16
Kneel here, search here, with both hands, the cat’s cradle of your tiny distress.

Well I got over thinking about all the big things that cat's cradle made me think about and now I am left with some tiny things. Just little me, when I was little with my little hands trying to play cat's cradle. Oh that little Jack was so sad because he was trying to play it all by himself and he wasn't getting very far. It is known to be one of the oldest games in the world and Jack couldn't play it because he was a little kid with no girlfriend. I think it was the kind of game that little boys would play with little girls. Another name for the game is "Jack in the Pulpit" so I am taking this a bit personally.
Oh Clair. Oh Sandy why didn't you come and play with me?
I want to know about all the different shapes we could have made of those strings. Nothing made sense without you.
Did you see me suspended in space swinging from those strings, swinging into my future?
Oh Fuck it, it's never too late to have a happy childhood. I think I'll have one now.
I think I'm swinging off on a tangent again. Sorry everyone.

[lizzytysh]

Jack

Manna ~ Not sure how it is I didn't see your posting here until now. Very odd... I thought I'd kept up with this thread; yet, here you are, having posted yesterday !

There's another dash of tangent for you.


~ Lizzy

[Manna]

How sure are we that this S-H-E of whom Leonard continually writes is his own soul? Who first proposed that idea? I need convincing, informing, educating.

...please?

[lazariuk]

How sure are we that this S-H-E of whom Leonard continually writes is his own soul? Who first proposed that idea? I need convincing, informing, educating.
...please?

The only convincing that I would try to do is to acknowledge that there seems to be a very fundamental communion that happens in the innermost part of ourselves.
The reason the word soul got in what I began thinking about the song The Window was because Leonard once introduced it with these words

This is another song; it's from my new album: it's called "The Window". It's a kind of prayer, (joining his hands) to bring the two parts of the Soul together. It's called "The Window"....

hense a prayer, a coming together of two, likely male and female.

While looking for the reference for that I came across the following which I thought worth bringing here

Hanover 11/11/79
It's a song that is based on an old Persian poem that says "Oh chosen love, Oh frozen love, O tangle of matter and ghost, O darling of angels, demons and saints. This is the first time I ever said it. I always sung it before. It's a song called "The Window".

[Manna]

I think it's a real woman here, or at least a woman who could be real. I think he is trying to make himself worthy of a woman by calling the spirit - the holy spirit, his own spirit - and asking it to be, what, Manna? With him, and one with him both don't do it for me. I think he's asking to be of a holy spirit so that he will be worthy of a woman when she comes. And to do this, he talks to the spirit.

Jack,
I think your idea of being prayed may be similar to what I'm saying here, but like much of what you say, I have trouble getting my little head around it.

[lazariuk]

I think your idea of being prayed may be similar to what I'm saying here, but like much of what you say, I have trouble getting my little head around it.

My thoughts always appreciate a little head and so Manna just keep your head where it is and I will try to turn my ideas around so that you don't have so much trouble.

Besides I like your thoughts better than mine. I think that mine took me as far as they could go, which isn't very far.
This book seems to be getting into the messy area of male and female and for me that whole business is such a tangle that I was thinking of dropping out of the discussion. But I'm willing to stick around if you are, and maybe I'll get to learn this cat's cradle game after all.

[Manna]

My hunch is this book will be more helpful to you if you remain part of the discussion. Isn't the point of this book to be helpful to anyone who is in a place where it can be helpful? That idea has been thrown around, yeah? I'm staying.

[lazariuk]

My hunch is this book will be more helpful to you if you remain part of the discussion. Isn't the point of this book to be helpful to anyone who is in a place where it can be helpful? That idea has been thrown around, yeah? I'm staying.

Hi Manna

Yes that idea has been tossed around. The way to approach it has been multiple. The approach that I have tried to take came from reading something that Leonard said about how there can be poetry in everything, poetry in the National Geographic, in the newspapers and then he went on to say that the approach you take will depend on how you want to live your life.

You can be the subject, and poetry can be the object. You can keep the subject/object relationship, and that's completely legitimate. It is the point of view of the scholar. But I wanted to live this world.

and then he went on to say "So that was poetry to me, and I think it's available to everybody"

So the approach I took was that if I was going to go through this book with everyone that I was going to try to throw my life into it. I was going to try to live it. There are limits to that. You can't live your life in a book that has already been written, one that you don't know where it is going and one where someone else is turning the pages. But what I thought I could do in this book that has already been written is let myself be an object that has already happened. I'm not here to bleed for anyone or to get embarrased or humilated or suffer any great pain. That's not going to happen for the simple reaon that it already has happened a long time ago. I'm willing to show my scars.
What might be obvious to you now is that deep inside I don't really give a flying fuck about knowing the details of Leonard's life and what his poems mean to him. The people here, including you, mean a lot more to me than he does and I have no problem with doing whatever the hell I want with his poems and songs to get to know you better.
Manna since you seem to have an interest in my thoughts about this book and since you told me that you were going to stay I thought that I should tell you what I'm trying to do here, which I just did to the limited extent that I can.
And since you joined here only recently I would like to give you a brief review of where I am so far.
Leonard wrote some stuff and we talked about it. Generally I felt that I related to what he was writing about. There was a lot of stuff that seemed to be outside of my experience and remains a mystery to me. The first part seemed to be about himself and God. Then he got to a part where he said that now was the time to get down to business and he started writing about "the other". His thoughts on the subject led one person, Simon, to consider something called "the Covenant of Alast" which was a time before things went wrong when we were all in harmony with one another and so probably it was a time when we could all love one another. It was at a time before the world began.
That suggested to me that there might be some kind of fundamental ground where people can reconnect. This opened my mind to the idea of going back and the thought that followed was I guess that we can go back but I am pretty sure that we can't go back all the way. I thought that this was being addressed on the page we are on.
That brings us to the page we are on.
On this page I would listen very carefully to what you had to say. I would like to see you having a dialogue about what was written. But since Leonard is not here to talk to you about what he wrote and since no one else seems interested in doing what I think can be done I thought that I would write here aboout something that happened to me that I feel that the prayer is addressing. It is something that I have already poster here when I came across Leonard writing "my prayer divided against itself".

Let me know Manna if to your way of thinking it relates to what Leonard is speaking about when someone is being summoned back by a "She"

It happened a long long time ago. I was living in a large house
shared by many people. It was during a time in my life when I felt it
to be a matter of great importance that I learn to pray. The idea had
been placed in my head that a person could pray in such a way that
they gather all that they are and place it into a prayer to Who cannot
be imaged in any way.

I didn't know how to pray like that but I was trying and it was a
struggle. I had the idea that I would often used words with people
more to conceal than to reveal and had developed some language
habits which reflected this and so it seemed really hard for me to
pray in a way that was honest but as I said I was trying.
The room that I liked to use to pray was one in which many
plants were growing. It was the plant room because it had so
many windows and even at night the moonlight and starlight and
faint far away streetlights came through the window and so it was
late one night when every one was asleep and I was in that room
praying.

I'm not sure how I looked praying in that room with the moonlight on
me. I'm not sure if the struggle I was having looked like pain or
what. The reason that I mentioned the way I might have looked was
that during my prayer I found that I was being looked at. I noticed
that in the doorway I was being watched by an Indian maiden. I use the
word maiden because it seems to suit somehow.

In the house was living a very beautiful young woman who during the
day was always attired in a very conservative way wearing very long
dresses etc. and always having her long hair neatly braided and worn
high. That night when I looked at her standing in the doorway watching
me pray her hair was flowing freely and flowed far pass her midsection
and she was wearing only a thin nightshirt.

I had been praying on my knees.

When she saw that I had noticed her she came over to me and said that
she wanted to pray with me and then knelt in front of me and put her
arms around me and her hair flowed around both of us and on the
carpet. Under her hair I placed my arms around her as well. I had been
practicing celibacy for a number of years at the time. The body that
I felt pressing against me which I felt in my hands seemed to be the
most desireable thing that I had ever known in my life.

It became even harder to pray. I seemed to be placed in a conflict that
threatened to tear me apart. It seemed like I had to choose between
the soul and the body but I also had to do it quickly before they both
dissappeared. There didn't seem to be any end to how large the
conflict could become.

I did something that night that I knew would be forever counted
against me as my shame and if it wasn't I knew that it would be my
duty to make the case that it should: I didn't push her away.

I did something else that I knew for certain would make me someone to
be laughed at for my remaining days: I didn't stop praying.

The only way to end the conflict that seemed to be tearing me apart
was to come apart.

It seemed to me that she wanted me to love her in a way that I
couldn't love her and it also seemed that God wanted me to love Him in
a way I couldn't love and so I found myself trying to find a place in
the middle. Love was out of my control. I could only love her to the
extent that God allowed and I could only approach God to the extent
that she allowed. You might say that ever since I have been trying to
find a way to be part of the two sides of something getting back
together.

Manna if you think this is not too far off on a tangent and that it relates to the prayer we are looking at and if you want to know more I would be happy to tell you whatever you want to know. (provided you think it might be fun)

[mat james]

who was preying?

[lazariuk]

who was preying? 8) :)

That certainly is a question that I have asked myself many times but I couldnt' see. There is a lot of talk in some schools of human behavior that is trying to suggest that much can be accounted for by remembering that there was a time when we were hunters. I considered that and came to the conclusion that probably for a much greater extent our memory is of being the hunted.