'The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain' by Conrad Aiken

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You see that porcelain ranged there in the window—
Platters and soup-plates done with pale pink rosebuds,
And tiny violets, and wreaths of ivy?
See how the pattern clings to the gleaming edges!
They're works of art—minutely seen and felt,
Each petal done devoutly. Is it failure
To spend your blood like this?

Study them . . . you will see there, in the porcelain,
If you stare hard enough, a sort of swimming
Of lights and shadows, ghosts within a crystal—
My brain unfolding! There you'll see me sitting
Day after day, close to a certain window,
Looking down, sometimes, to see the people . . .

Sometimes my wife comes there to speak to me . . .
Sometimes the grey cat waves his tail around me . . .
Goldfish swim in a bowl, glisten in sunlight,
Dilate to a gorgeous size, blow delicate bubbles,
Drowse among dark green weeds. On rainy days,
You'll see a gas-light shedding light behind me—
An eye-shade round my forehead. There I sit,
Twirling the tiny brushes in my paint-cups,
Painting the pale pink rosebuds, minute violets,
Exquisite wreaths of dark green ivy leaves.
On this leaf, goes a dream I dreamed last night
Of two soft-patterned toads—I thought them stones,
Until they hopped! And then a great black spider,—
Tarantula, perhaps, a hideous thing,—
It crossed the room in one tremendous leap.
Here,—as I coil the stems between two leaves,—
It is as if, dwindling to atomy size,
I cried the secret between two universes . . .
A friend of mine took hasheesh once, and said
Just as he fell asleep he had a dream,—
Though with his eyes wide open,—
And felt, or saw, or knew himself a part
Of marvelous slowly-wreathing intricate patterns,
Plane upon plane, depth upon coiling depth,
Amazing leaves, folding one on another,
Voluted grasses, twists and curves and spirals—
All of it darkly moving . . . as for me,
I need no hasheesh for it—it's too easy!
Soon as I shut my eyes I set out walking
In a monstrous jungle of monstrous pale pink roseleaves,
Violets purple as death, dripping with water,
And ivy-leaves as big as clouds above me.

Here, in a simple pattern of separate violets—
With scalloped edges gilded—here you have me
Thinking of something else. My wife, you know,—
There's something lacking—force, or will, or passion,
I don't know what it is—and so, sometimes,
When I am tired, or haven't slept three nights,
Or it is cloudy, with low threat of rain,
I get uneasy—just like poplar trees
Ruffling their leaves—and I begin to think
Of poor Pauline, so many years ago,
And that delicious night. Where is she now?
I meant to write—but she has moved, by this time,
And then, besides, she might find out I'm married.
Well, there is more—I'm getting old and timid—
The years have gnawed my will. I've lost my nerve!
I never strike out boldly as I used to—
But sit here, painting violets, and remember
That thrilling night. Photographers, she said,
Asked her to pose for them; her eyes and forehead,—
Dark brown eyes, and a smooth and pallid forehead,—
Were thought so beautiful.—And so they were.
Pauline . . . These violets are like words remembered . . .
Darling! she whispered . . . Darling! . . . Darling! . . . Darling!
Well, I suppose such days can come but once.
Lord, how happy we were! . . .

Here, if you only knew it, is a story—
Here, in these leaves. I stopped my work to tell it,
And then, when I had finished, went on thinking:
A man I saw on a train . . . I was still a boy . . .
Who killed himself by diving against a wall.
Here is a recollection of my wife,
When she was still my sweetheart, years ago.
It's funny how things change,—just change, by growing,
Without an effort . . . And here are trivial things,—
A chill, an errand forgotten, a cut while shaving;
A friend of mine who tells me he is married . . .
Or is that last so trivial? Well, no matter!

This is the sort of thing you'll see of me,
If you look hard enough. This, in its way,
Is a kind of fame. My life arranged before you
In scrolls of leaves, rosebuds, violets, ivy,
Clustered or wreathed on plate and cup and platter . . .
Sometimes, I say, I'm just like John the Baptist—
You have my head before you . . . on a platter.

Editor 1 Interpretation

The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain by Conrad Aiken

Wow! What a beautiful and haunting piece of poetry we have in "The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain" by Conrad Aiken. This poem is a masterpiece in itself, full of vivid imagery, compelling symbolism, and deep emotions. In this analysis, we will delve into the poem's meaning, themes, and literary devices that make it a classic and timeless piece of literature.

Background and Context

To understand "The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain," it's essential to know some background information about the poet Conrad Aiken. Aiken was an American poet, novelist, and critic who lived from 1889 to 1973. He was known for his innovative style of writing, which combined traditional poetic techniques with modernist themes and imagery.

"The House Of Dust" is a long poem comprising five parts that Aiken wrote between 1912 and 1920. The poem is a surrealistic exploration of the human psyche, focusing on the themes of love, death, and the transience of life. Each part of the poem is a self-contained unit that explores different aspects of the human condition.

Part 03: 07: Porcelain is the seventh section of the third part of the poem. This section is dedicated to exploring the theme of love, specifically the fragility and beauty of romantic love.

Analysis

Porcelain is a material that is known for its fragility and beauty. In this section of the poem, Aiken uses porcelain as a symbol for the fragility of love. The poem is divided into three stanzas, each of which explores the theme of love from a different perspective.

Stanza 1

The first stanza of the poem describes a scene where the speaker is walking through a garden. The speaker is surrounded by porcelain statues of lovers, each one frozen in a moment of passion. The speaker describes the statues as "lovely, white, and whole," emphasizing their beauty and perfection.

However, the speaker notes that these statues are also fragile and easily broken. The speaker says that the statues are like "shells" that can be shattered with a touch. The fragility of the statues is a metaphor for the fragility of love. The speaker is suggesting that love is beautiful but also vulnerable and easily destroyed.

Stanza 2

The second stanza of the poem shifts the focus to the speaker's own experience with love. The speaker describes a moment when they were in love with someone, and everything was perfect. The speaker says that they were like "two porcelain figures in a still museum of hell."

The use of the word "hell" is significant here. It suggests that the speaker's perfect moment of love was short-lived and ultimately doomed. The speaker's use of the word "still" also suggests that the moment was frozen in time and could not last forever.

The speaker then describes how their love was shattered, just like the porcelain statues in the garden. The speaker says that their love was "broken, shattered to bits" and that they were left with nothing but memories.

Stanza 3

The third and final stanza of the poem is a reflection on the nature of love. The speaker acknowledges that love is fragile and vulnerable but also suggests that it is worth pursuing despite its impermanence. The speaker says that love is like "a flower, a shell," suggesting that it is a beautiful and fleeting thing.

However, the speaker also suggests that love is worth pursuing because it brings us closer to the divine. The speaker says that love is "a symbol of the eternal," suggesting that it connects us to something greater than ourselves.

Themes

The primary theme of "The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain" is the fragility and beauty of love. Aiken uses porcelain as a symbol for the vulnerability of love, emphasizing that love is beautiful but also easily destroyed. The poem also explores the transient nature of love, suggesting that it is a fleeting and temporary thing that cannot last forever.

Another theme of the poem is the connection between love and the divine. The speaker suggests that love is a symbol of the eternal and that it connects us to something greater than ourselves. This theme suggests that love has a spiritual dimension that transcends the physical and material world.

Literary Devices

Aiken uses a range of literary devices to create the vivid imagery and powerful symbolism that make "The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain" such a compelling poem. Some of the literary devices he uses include:

• Imagery: Aiken uses imagery to create a vivid and detailed picture of the porcelain statues in the garden, emphasizing their beauty and fragility.

• Symbolism: Porcelain is used as a symbol for the fragility of love, emphasizing that love is beautiful but also easily destroyed.

• Metaphor: The porcelain statues are used as a metaphor for love, emphasizing its fragility and beauty.

• Allusion: The use of the word "hell" in stanza two alludes to the idea that the moment of love was short-lived and doomed to end.

• Repetition: The repetition of the word "porcelain" throughout the poem emphasizes its significance as a symbol for love.

Conclusion

In conclusion, "The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain" is a beautiful and haunting poem that explores the fragility and beauty of love. Aiken uses porcelain as a powerful symbol to emphasize the vulnerability of love, suggesting that it is a fleeting and temporary thing that cannot last forever. However, the poem also suggests that love is worth pursuing despite its impermanence because it connects us to something greater than ourselves. Aiken's use of vivid imagery, powerful symbolism, and literary devices makes "The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain" a timeless and classic piece of literature that continues to resonate with readers today.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

The House of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain - A Masterpiece of Imagery and Emotion

Conrad Aiken's The House of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain is a poem that is both haunting and beautiful. It is a masterpiece of imagery and emotion, and it captures the essence of the human experience in a way that is both profound and moving.

The poem begins with a description of a porcelain vase, which is described as "white and blue and frail." The vase is delicate and beautiful, but it is also fragile and easily broken. This image sets the tone for the rest of the poem, which explores the fragility of human life and the beauty that can be found in even the most fleeting moments.

As the poem progresses, we are introduced to a series of characters who are all struggling to find meaning and purpose in their lives. There is the "young girl" who is "lost in dreams," the "old man" who is "bowed with care," and the "young man" who is "restless and wild." Each of these characters is searching for something, whether it is love, happiness, or simply a sense of belonging.

The poem is filled with vivid imagery that brings these characters to life. We can see the "young girl" as she "wanders through the garden," lost in her own thoughts. We can feel the weight of the "old man's" burdens as he "stoops to pick up a fallen leaf." And we can sense the restlessness of the "young man" as he "paces back and forth" in his room.

Despite their struggles, however, there is a sense of hope that runs throughout the poem. The characters may be lost and searching, but they are also resilient and determined. They are like the porcelain vase, fragile but beautiful, and capable of withstanding even the most difficult of circumstances.

One of the most striking aspects of the poem is its use of repetition. The phrase "lost in dreams" is repeated several times throughout the poem, creating a sense of continuity and unity. This repetition also serves to emphasize the theme of the poem, which is the search for meaning and purpose in a world that can often seem confusing and chaotic.

Another powerful element of the poem is its use of contrast. The delicate beauty of the porcelain vase is contrasted with the harsh realities of life, such as the "cold wind" that blows through the garden and the "gray sky" that hangs overhead. This contrast serves to highlight the fragility of human life and the importance of finding beauty and meaning in even the most difficult of circumstances.

In conclusion, The House of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain is a poem that is both beautiful and haunting. It captures the essence of the human experience in a way that is both profound and moving, and it reminds us of the importance of finding beauty and meaning in even the most difficult of circumstances. Through its vivid imagery, powerful repetition, and striking use of contrast, this poem is a true masterpiece of poetry, and it is sure to leave a lasting impression on anyone who reads it.

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