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The sun hides not the ocean, which is the dark side of this earth, and which is two thirds of this earth. So, therefore, that mortal man who hath more of joy than sorrow in him, that mortal man cannot be true-- not true, or undeveloped. With books the same. The truest of all men was the Man of Sorrows, and the truest of all books is Solomon’s, and Ecclesiastes is the fine hammered steel of woe.
--Herman Melville (1819-1891), Moby-Dick (1851)
Ubi sunt qui ante nos fuerunt?*
Where are they that were before us,
who led hounds and carried hawks,
and owned fields and woods?
The rich ladies in their bedrooms,
who wore gold in their tresses
with their bright crosses--
who ate and drank, and were glad together;
their life was all full of games,
men knelt before them;
they bore their rank well;
and in a twinkling of an eye
their souls were lost.
Where is that laughing and that song,
that trailing and that proud going,
the hawks and the hounds?
All that joy is gone away,
that "well" has come to "wellaway,"
to many hard hours.
Their paradise they took here,
and now they lie in hell forever
the fire burns forever.
Long is forever, and long is o,
Long is why, and long is woe;
They will never escape from there....
--Middle English poem by an unknown author
*[Where are those who were before us?]
Were beth they that biforen us weren,
houndes ladden and havekes beren,
and hadden feld and wode?
The riche levedies in hoere bour,
that wereden gold in hoere tressour,
with hoere brightte rode;
eten and drounken, and maden hem glad;
hoere lif was al with gamen i-lad,
men kneleden hem biforen;
they beren hem wel swithe heye;
and in a twincling of an eye
hoere soules weren forloren.
Were is that lawhing and that song,
that trayling and that proude gong,
tho havekes and tho houndes?
Al that joye is went away,
that wele is comen to weylaway,
to manye harde stoundes.
Hoere paradis they nomen here,
and nou they lyen in helle i-fere;
the fuir hit brennes hevere:
long is ay, and long is o,
long is wy, and long is wo;
thennes ne cometh they nevere.
People forget that a soldier's death goes on for years-- for a generation, really. They leave people behind.
--Jayne Anne Phillips (1952- ) in Lark and Termite (2009)
All you can do is show up for someone in crisis. Your there-ness... can be life giving, because often everyone else is in hiding.
--Anne Lamott (1954- ) in Traveling Mercies
