Ithaca

For my next post (which has been a long time coming since I've been spending a lot of time working, volunteering and formulating excuses) I will participate in one of the most popular human past-times: brutal hypocrisy.

For, contrary to an earlier post which was critical of poetry not well-written enough to link to now (also I'm lazy), I have decided to praise a piece of verse in this post. It's a poem called Ithaca by C.P. Cavafy, and I've shamelessly reproduced it below.

I'm not a fan of in-depth poetical analysis, especially by rank amateurs such as myself, so I won't explain what I think it means or how I've carefully and selectively read it to fit what I want it to. I'll simply say that I like it because it praises the journey of life:

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,  
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon -- do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.
Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.
Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.
Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.
And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.

It reminds me of a Dave McPherson lyric from the song The Thieves:

Take a trip, take a trip down memory lane
Think of the things you've lost but all the strength that you've gained
All of the trauma, all of the loss and all of the pain
It's not a touch on all the strength that you've gained

 But I don't want to explain why. Partly through laziness and partly because my interpretation is probably massively off and the less I say, the less exposed I am.

On the Inadequacy of Headstones

It was on one of my frequent perambulations through obscure Nottingham churchyards that I noticed that almost every grave's headstone bore the inscription "In Loving Memory".

Why did everyone creating these stones think it would be a good idea to copy the inscription of virtually every other inhabitant? It's not original, it shows poor and defective thought and a lack of the true sentimentality that one would hope one's surviving relatives and friends would feel towards one post-mortem.

Personally, I can't imagine the manufacturers of headstones being responsible. After all, they've got to do a lot of carving whether or not people want to alter the standard sentence fragment. Besides, ultimate responsibility lies with those preparing the dead person's funeral.

Even if a lazy and unscrupulous funeral director did say to you, "Sorry, mate. 'In Loving Memory' or 'Gone, but not forgotten' are your only options', would you accept that? No, not if you have any regard for the recently-deceased. Instead, you launch into a semi-incomprehensible splenetic tirade, pointing out that "of course I love them (or at least want to give that impression to the other relatives and future pompous history graduates who may walk past his grave), and of course they're not forgotten. What brand of facile asininity is this, you incompetent fool?"

You may as well just write "This man/woman was alive and now they're dead. They left behind some sad people. We had some good times." At least it's more expansive. And at least it's original. There are no benefits to the standard formula. It lacks poetry and warmth.

Now, you might argue that the space for originality is underneath the "In Loving Memory". That's where you write your sentimental drivel - "The Pain of Your Passing is Eclipsed by the Warmth of the Memories You Have Given Us" - or whatever. That's where you truly demonstrate the depth of your feelings to the deceased.

No, this isn't good enough. The headstone is all that is there in the cemetery to commemorate the dead. It should be a unique testament given to celebrate a unique life. It could be blank apart from a poem (not a poem, obviously. See below) and a name, or have playful carved-doodles of phalluses, if that is part of a relevant and affectionate tribute to the person decomposing beneath. You can tailor it as much as you like, and you shouldn't be constrained by what everyone else has written first. The Loving Memory in whose name you compose your headstone can be presumed.

P.S. The one "In Loving Memory" I could bear to sanction would be:

InMe

Dave McPherson, frontman of InMe, one of the most criminally-underrated bands in history, is releasing a long list of signed/personalised memorabilia, gig experiences, and other awesome gifts as part of a pledge drive to raise money for UNICEF and to promote his new solo album. The prices are fantastic too, considering the level of devotion which InMe inspire in their followers. Of the people I know reasonably well, maybe 4 could be considered InMe fans. We're all borderline obsessed. They're addictive. I find myself going a week at a time listening to nothing but InMe because, by comparison, everything else seems crap. The lyrics are beautifully written and sung with haunting vocal hooks, and the guitar work is superb, particularly in the later albums. People don't always like them the first time, but listen twice or thrice, and you're hooked. They don't have a big following, unfortunately, but those people who know them love them.

I guess it's good that their following isn't too big really. It means I can buy a home gig for £500. Now if I only had £500... I can still afford the handwritten lyrics or the signed photos. Maybe the VIP pass for the Brighton gig. Fantastic stuff. I urge everyone to listen and love.

P.S. I'm now tempted to ask my brother to pay for InMe to play at his wedding. His fiancée probably won't mind.

P.P.S. ALMOST FORGOT! Here's the link to the pledge drive where you can buy the stuff:

http://www.pledgemusic.com/projects/davemcpherson/pledge

P.P.P.S Here's me with the man himself!
Image removed as part of the privacy drive (26th July 2011)