Dark Warm And Timeless
The concluding appendix of The Gay Science is a collection of poems. The section is entitled Songs of Prince Bird-free, or “free as a bird.” The German term signifies an outlaw whom anyone can shoot on sight. The reader of The Gay Science likely would not be surprised at the ambiguity of the title. If one aspires to be free, then one is subject to being shot on sight. Nietzsche has said as much, in many ways in the previous chapters and verses. Freedom is given lip service far and wide, in societies that are in fact rigidly constrained. Too much freedom, brands one as transgressive, subverting the status quo.
This poem presents a dream like vision of an individual in the throes of sleeplessness, who gets up and walks to a moonlit shore, where he sees a sailing boat (a bark) waiting on the warm sand.
Anyone who has walked on a moonlit ocean beach, at low tide, hearing the beat of the waves, feeling the mysterious expanse and darkness of the ocean can participate in this dream-quest with the poet.
The Mysterious Bark
Last night all appeared to doze,
Unsteady the wind that wailed
Softly lest it break repose;
Only I on my bed flailed,
Poppy and good conscience, those
Trusted soporifics, failed.
Finally, I foreswore sleep,
Got up, and ran to the strand.
There was moonlight where it’s steep,
Man and bark on the warm sand,
Sleepy both shepherd and sheep–
Sleepily we left the land.
One hour passed, or two, or three–
Or a year–when suddenly
All my thoughts and mind were drowned
In timeless monotony:
An abyss without a ground
Opened up-not one more sound.
Morning came, on the black deep
Rests a bark, rests on the swell.
What has happened? Hundreds keep
Asking that. Who died? Who fell?
Nothing happened! We found sleep,
All of us-we slept so well.
This tune by the Commodores, seems right to pair with with verses that juxtapose sleeplessness with endless repose. Night Shift by the Commodores.
It’s gonna be a long night, it’s gonna be alright….
4 thoughts on “Dark Warm And Timeless”
The question that reoccurs whenever I read discussions of “freedom” is: What exactly is freedom? We’ve delved into this before, in fact many times, but I’m still not certain that I know the answer.
This one question then leads to many others. Could Nietzsche mean freedom of thought, freedom to act, freedom to move about wherever one might want? Perhaps it’s freedom FROM want, or oppression, or fear, or need. If one has the freedom to act at will, does that not have the potential of inflicting fear, difficulties, or even death onto others, thus curtailing their own freedom? Does freedom translate to free will? If so, how do we equate determinism with freedom? Freedom to own weapons of mass destruction, or have an ongoing tire fire in your backyard, or park in front of your neighbor’s driveway, or force one’s religious beliefs onto millions of others? I realize these examples go from extremes to a petty difficulty, but they are all aspects encompassed in personal freedom.
I’m sorry that Friedrich is not around to clarify his thoughts, but perhaps, being familiar with his work, you could fill in. Thanks!
And freedom, oh freedom well, that’s just some people talkin’
Your prison is walking through this world all alone
–Lyrics, Desperado by The Eagles
I do not think that freedom is “just some people talkin’.” Perhaps freedom is a necessary fiction for homo sapiens. As language enabled mammals we seem to need the mirage-of-freedom which always escapes definition, recedes over the horizon, especially with the passage of time. From time to time one hears comment about “the cruel world.” I suppose the world is inevitably cruel because the passage of time means loss, and the demise of freedom.
There are moments of palpable freedom though. I like these lyric lines by Janis Joplin, Me and Bobby MaGee:
Freedom is just another word for nothin’ left to lose
Nothin’, don’t mean nothin’ hon’ if it ain’t free, no-no
And feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues
You know feelin’ good was good enough for me
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee
Addendum: Perhaps the ultimate form of freedom is death, “All of us, we slept so well.”
I am sure this is what Nietzsche had in mind…