Ganymede and the Eagle • Berthold Thorvaldsen
Marble
Gift of The Morse Foundation, 66.9
Many years before I became a Guide at Mia, I wrote these five related poems inspired by one of my favorite objects in the museum. As an exercise in literary expression, I tried interpreting the sculpture through each of the five senses.
I.
I Want to Break the Rules.
Are ancient myths
always like this? Hard
but lovely? Brutality turned
tender? Who’s to say
Ganymede
was sad to be cup-boy
for Jupiter? Not Thorvaldsen,
hammer and chisel flying
he finds this silky stone thigh,
these perfect curls, the captor’s
talons and feathers
Touch me!
says the prince turned
servant
Touch me! shrieks the god
turned raptor — We are your body
in stone
II.
Hi Gan!
Quiet here, now that you’ve gone off
No beep-beep of video games
no clomping on the stairs
no clattering dishes at 1AM
LOL!
RU keeping busy there with the old eagle?
Do you get time off from the cup-bearing?
Hope the music’s good — Orpheus, and all the rest
Remember the day you left?
Those wings flapping and whirring!
That whoosh!
Wish I got it on video for Insta — maybe next time?
BTW — you look good in marble
III.
Kitchen Notes, Rome, 1817
Most days, the Dane stops by for supper
after the Academia
white dust on his clothes, in his hair, on his beard
Cavaliere Alberto we call him
easier to say than Signor Thorvaldsen
Likes his food simple
Whatever got butchered that day is good enough —
veal, chicken, pork
a light sauce
maybe some parsley or thyme
And vino, of course
Always the vino
IV.
The Scent of Art
the flowers in Jupiter’s kingdom
possess aromas
sweeter, deeper and richer
than any in the mortal world
luring divine and ageless bees
to gather pollen
and produce honey
golden and godly
a boy, captured by Jupiter
for just this task
gathers the honey,
makes the nectar
and serves it to Jupiter
If not for the fragrance of flowers,
would Ganymede still be doing princely things back in Troy
instead of here
in marble
bending
to the eagle’s every wish?
V.
Kidnapped for Beauty
He snatched me because I am beautiful,
my perfect proportions
of limb and torso
the sinuous line of
spine and neck. He cast me
in marble
because I am so lovely,
chipped at the stone
until my flawless face
emerged
serene
See my cap
the cap of revolution
the liberty cap
Do you see freedom
in my hardened pose?
Am I then a slave?
Forced into captivity
and servitude
forever leaning toward
the bird, forever offering
liquid of stone?
ความคิดเห็น