Post by Astrit Zupan on Mar 24, 2014 23:36:21 GMT -8
It was lunchtime, and Astrit had something to eat. That was pretty lucky, he thought.
Of course, he was lucky just to be here--something that he was frequently aware of, and something that he was pretty sure most of his classmates didn't notice nearly so much. It was funny how that worked, really. He was aware, most of the time, of how easily he could have ended up... well, basically anywhere but this lunchroom at school.
As usual, he was completely alone with his lunch. Normally he might have had a book, but he'd been tipped off that the food was likely to be messy today, and he would have hated to get strange sauces all over perfectly good reading material. Instead, he mumbled lines from the weirdly hypnotic poem they'd just been discussing in class over and over again.
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other kingdom
Remember us--if at all--not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
The poetry lent a certain rhythm to everything he did, even if only in his own mind. He doubted that anyone would ever guess that his ravenous consumption of his lunch was happening to the beat of "The Hollow Men." Not that he was entirely sure what he was eating; he hadn't bothered to pay much attention. Most of what mattered to him was that it was edible and therefore useful for keeping him alive. He had a very strong fondness for being fed.
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.
They had discussed what those words meant, peeling apart layers of religious symbolism, most of which Astrit had personally never heard of before. "Multifoliate rose" was an allusion to... well, some major Christian figure. Or several; the conversation had gotten a little complicated at that point. "Death's twilight kingdom" was easier, though they had had a bit of a spirited discussion of which kingdom, exactly, that meant. The poem was pretty unambiguously set in hell among "hollow men," that much was easily agreed by everyone with even the most cursory knowledge of the subject, but some classmates argued that this "twilight kingdom" was heaven where this perpetual star was coming from, and others rejoined that it must be the dark kingdom that needed the light. Astrit himself had been in the latter camp, but he did not say so. He could have deep thoughts all he wanted, but there was no need for anyone to know as much.
"The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars..."
He didn't even realize that he was reciting that slightly earlier passage aloud under his breath, every crumb of his lunch having been consumed. He was too busy circling through the poem, stanzas at random, catching pieces and admiring them in his own private thoughts. The dying stars were contrasted just short lines later by the "perpetual star" surrounded by religious imagery. Light meant hope, but in this poem it was The hope only/Of empty men.
Very dark, but there was something alluring about this kind of darkness when Astrit thought of it in the privacy of his own mind.
Of course, he was lucky just to be here--something that he was frequently aware of, and something that he was pretty sure most of his classmates didn't notice nearly so much. It was funny how that worked, really. He was aware, most of the time, of how easily he could have ended up... well, basically anywhere but this lunchroom at school.
As usual, he was completely alone with his lunch. Normally he might have had a book, but he'd been tipped off that the food was likely to be messy today, and he would have hated to get strange sauces all over perfectly good reading material. Instead, he mumbled lines from the weirdly hypnotic poem they'd just been discussing in class over and over again.
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other kingdom
Remember us--if at all--not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
The poetry lent a certain rhythm to everything he did, even if only in his own mind. He doubted that anyone would ever guess that his ravenous consumption of his lunch was happening to the beat of "The Hollow Men." Not that he was entirely sure what he was eating; he hadn't bothered to pay much attention. Most of what mattered to him was that it was edible and therefore useful for keeping him alive. He had a very strong fondness for being fed.
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.
They had discussed what those words meant, peeling apart layers of religious symbolism, most of which Astrit had personally never heard of before. "Multifoliate rose" was an allusion to... well, some major Christian figure. Or several; the conversation had gotten a little complicated at that point. "Death's twilight kingdom" was easier, though they had had a bit of a spirited discussion of which kingdom, exactly, that meant. The poem was pretty unambiguously set in hell among "hollow men," that much was easily agreed by everyone with even the most cursory knowledge of the subject, but some classmates argued that this "twilight kingdom" was heaven where this perpetual star was coming from, and others rejoined that it must be the dark kingdom that needed the light. Astrit himself had been in the latter camp, but he did not say so. He could have deep thoughts all he wanted, but there was no need for anyone to know as much.
"The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars..."
He didn't even realize that he was reciting that slightly earlier passage aloud under his breath, every crumb of his lunch having been consumed. He was too busy circling through the poem, stanzas at random, catching pieces and admiring them in his own private thoughts. The dying stars were contrasted just short lines later by the "perpetual star" surrounded by religious imagery. Light meant hope, but in this poem it was The hope only/Of empty men.
Very dark, but there was something alluring about this kind of darkness when Astrit thought of it in the privacy of his own mind.
