Andrew Marvell

stuff in there.

Like, I think she has a lot in common with the metaphysical poets, which is like John Donne, Andrew Marvell, and these guys from like late 1500s, early 1600s in England.

She's also, you know, we've been talking about postmodernism.

She's reading In the Beauty of the Husband.

Some of them do.

Annie Finch wrote a poem that responds to an Andrew Marvel poem, right? To his coy mistress, and then the mistress gets to speak in her version.

So I did a few like that, right? We're kind of used to that.

But I wanted poems in there that, I have a section called Roses.

"How have I deserved this treacherous dealing at their hands? Lord, how long shall I be dark in light exposed to daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong within doors and without, still as a fool in power of others never in my own?" Samson Agonistes.

Here, and by a happy coincidence, there was a sturdy hammering heard at the front door, and Andrew Marvel was ushered in.

"I am out of my due time," said he, "for it is not yet gone six." Six to eight p.m.

being Milton's best time for receiving visitors.

At first the women wore the same badges as denote the ranks of soldiers.

But a paternal, or should one not almost say maternal, government evidently thought that not feminine enough, and now the badges of varying rank are roses, fleur-de-lis, and laurel leaves, a touch which would have delighted old Andrew Marvel.

One of the chief activities of the WACs is cooking, and when, escorted by the DDMS, whom I have before mentioned, I arrived at the little wooden office amidst the pines, it was to hear a one-sided conversation on the telephone between the area controller and various great ones of the earth who were frantically ringing up for cooks.

Also a new officers' club for senior officers wanting a rest from the firing line is just being opened near E, and it is to be staffed by WACs, and the cook is to be of the very best.

Mm.

It's, um, Andrew Marvell's poem The Garden-

Mm

...

Yeah.

Well, let's hear it.

Andrew Marvell was a 17th century poet, and, uh, he lived during the Civil War and the restoration of the monarchy.

So let's hear an extract from The Garden.

And, and this is something that comes up quite a lot in Moby Dick.

I think there's this particular Andrew Marvell poem, um, a dialogue between the soul and the body that has this line that's never left my head since I read it, which, um, says, you know, "Oh, who shall d- who shall me deliver whole from bonds of this tyrannic soul? Which stretched upright impales me so that mine own precipice I go." And this is a part of the dialogue where the body is speaking to the soul.

Mm.

He's saying like, "I'm literally impaled on you, you motherfucker." But also just that line, "So that mine own precipice I go." The body is always about to fall.

And I love that you brought up Marvel and Dunn.

Or Marvell, I probably should say.

Marvell, Andrew Marvell, that's right.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Probably cried him.

"How have I deserved this treacherous dealing at their hands? Lord, how long shall I be dark in light exposed to daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong within doors and without, still as a fool in power of others, never in my own?" Samson Agonistes.

Here, and by a happy coincidence, there was a sturdy hammering heard at the front door, and Andrew Marvel was ushered in.

"I am out of my due time," said he, "for it is not yet gone six." Six to eight PM being Milton's best time for receiving visitors.

"Yet to so old an offender as myself, John, I thought thou wilt make an exception." Marvel was the one friend of his own type and standing, the one constant and inalienable comrade upon whose fidelity the blind man could rely.

Yes, and at my back I always hear Gigi Knitmore hovering near.

I'd like to apologize to the 17th century poet Andrew Marvell for what I just did.

But yes, I wanted to show you they not only have the cottons, they have interfacing by the yard and in little kits.

This place is very, very complete.

Yeah.

You see, Andrew Marvell said, at my back, I always hear Time's winged chariot drawing near.

At my back, I always hear the voice of Donald Sutherland from Kelly's Heroes saying, Always with the negative waves, Moriarty.

And I want to counter that.