Today is the birthday of Don Marquis (pronounced MAR-kwiss, I believe).
He was from Walnut, Illinois. Born there in 1878.
A newspaper man with an active imagination, Marquis wound up writing so much more than the usual police reports and obituaries. He was a playwright and a poet, and for a daily column he created some characters to carry the weight. Among them, a literary cockroach named Archy, who submitted his poems by hurling himself at the keys on Marquis’ typewriter, one letter at a time. Thus there are no capital letters, since it would require two simultaneous keystrokes, and a cockroach has only one body to sacrifice for his art.
In honor of Don Marquis on his birthday, (and for our leaders in Washington as they play a game of economic chicken), here’s archy on the irresistible lure of recklessness.
i was talking to a moth
the other evening
he was trying to break into
an electric light bulb
and fry himself on the wires
why do you fellows
pull this stunt i asked him
because it is the conventional
thing for moths or why
if that had been an uncovered
candle instead of an electric
light bulb you would
now be a small unsightly cinder
have you no sense
plenty of it he answered
but at times we get tired
of using it
we get bored with the routine
and crave beauty
and excitement
fire is beautiful
and we know that if we get
too close it will kill us
but what does that matter
it is better to be happy
for a moment
and be burned up with beauty
than to live a long time
and be bored all the while
so we wad all our life up
into one little roll
and then we shoot the roll
that is what life is for
it is better to be a part of beauty
for one instant and then cease to
exist than to exist forever
and never be a part of beauty
our attitude toward life
is come easy go easy
we are like human beings
used to be before they became
too civilized to enjoy themselves
and before i could argue him
out of his philosophy
he went and immolated himself
on a patent cigar lighter
i do not agree with him
myself i would rather have
half the happiness and twice
the longevity
but at the same time i wish
there was something i wanted
as badly as he wanted to fry himself
archy
If you are a moth, what’s your candle?
Trail Baboon 
fat, fried, salty, crispy, cheesy
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gosh, Dale – we’re not worthy – thanks for that beautiful poem!
my candle is cheese (right now anyway) – not eating it so much as making a really good cheese. not terribly dangerous unless you discover dumb mistakes and then stroke out in disgust at your own lameness. more on that sometime.
Ben – we share your Wild Blue pain – been pretty iffy lately 🙂
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Printed matter of all sorts
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art and beauty
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Rise and Flutter Baboons:
Making Art.
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i have a new favorite poet dale thanks. i will enjoy checking this out.
first blush
“expression is the need of my soul,” declares Archy, who labored as a free-verse poet in an earlier incarnation. At night, alone, he dives furiously on the keys of Don Marquis’ typewriter to describe a cockroach’s view of the world, rich with cynicism and humor. It’s difficult enough to operate the typewriter’s return bar to get a fresh line of paper; all of Archy’s dispatches are written lowercase, and without punctuation, because he is unable to hit both shift and letter keys to produce a capital letter.
“boss i am disappointed in some of your readers,” he writes, weary of having to explain the mechanics of his literary output. ” … they are always interested in technical details when the main question is whether the stuff is literature or not.”
someone who understands
archy and ee
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I am in complete agreement with you, tim. Almost none of my teachers ever paid much attention to what I wrote and only seemed to care about technical details. However, I guess I should have at least put a little more effort into learning to spell. Puncuation? Why should one have to worry about that. Right?
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thanks jim i appreciate the support
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I wish I had had an English teacher like this. A poem by one of my favorite poets, Billy Collins:
Introduction To Poetry
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
or press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.
I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.
They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
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Is it possible that tim and archy have even more in common than their eschewal of punctuation and capitalization?
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Good morning to all:
There is a song by Rosalie Sorrels about Archie and Mahitabel that includes the verse:
” ‘Be mine, Mehitabel,’ he sez…’and I will offer you a lifetime of open iceboxes, fish-heads, and cr-r-r-reeeam!’…
“I rustled grub for that low-life bum for about three months, and when the kittens came, he left!…
“I am always a lady, Archie, always a lady — I did not do anything vulgar. I simply removed his right eye with my left claw.”
Rosalie is one of my all time favorites and I think her song about Mahitabel is one of her best.
A flame that I could go for would involve traveling from one musical venue to another night after night to hear my favorite musicans.
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I forgot to thank you, Dale, for Archy and Mahitabel which is a big favorite of mine.
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Rosalie is a fabulous storyteller. Had the pleasure of her as a houseguest several times some years ago, she was great fun to hang out with. The stories she could and did tell, oh my.
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music, gardens,dogs,and cookbooks.
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Approval. I can remember my dad trying to teach me to catch, saying “watch the ball, eye on the ball”, and all I could do was watch his face to see in his eye that approval I was seeking.
And books. Got rid of 4 boxes last month in an effort to lighten up. But I’m still drawn to them, want more, seek them out…
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I can relate to both parts of that answer. 🙂
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I wish I was like that moth. I’m afraid there is no candle in this moth’s life. I think that there is something deep down inside but I’ve buried it in lesser things with the result that a safe, boring life is all I’m left with.
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I bet you are cutting yourself short, Edith, and that there is something that will really float your boat. Just find something small to glory in and get started toward the candle.
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no, i’m just being honest. i think i used to have a candle, probably beauty in nature – which sounds kinda sappy when you put it like that but i don’t know how to quickly say what happening upon a beautiful thing by the lake or in the woods did for me. it could be a moose, a sunset, an agate, a spiderweb with dew on it, sun shining through autumn leaves, ice on the shore, snow on the pines.. .but i’ve kinda lost that. gardening in the city is not the same thing. at all.
but that is good advice…find something small to glory in and get started toward the candle. i like that.
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I’m gonna find oit one book downloaded another on the way in hardcopy from the library
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Huh?
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Doing karate is my fire. No matter the pain, the bad knees, the surgery, the exhaustion of a hard class, family who say I might be too old, the constant pushing of my teacher, my own need for perfection, my extreme slowness in learning new forms and the financial burden of the tuition — I can’t stand NOT doing karate.
I miss the camaraderie of my classmates (they’re all as possessed as I), the motivation and speeches we get from our teacher and the pure kinesthetic joy of exercising and using my body in such a dynamic and vigorous manner. Plus the explosive pleasure of pounding on pads or body shields, or sparring with classmates while you do your best to beat them before they beat you (all in good fun of course, with pads on). I revel in my power and strength and feel like Wonder Woman during class. Unless you’ve taken a good martial arts class, you may not understand.
I started karate after my kids did — mainly for Lucas as it’s been excellent for his autism. I still recall the class I received my white belt (usually your third class). It was just Mr. Z and me and I was punching the pads he was holding in a boxing pattern. Getting into the zone, I focused on how hard I could punch and how fast I could go until he said stop. The day after that class, I could barely contain myself — all I could think about was karate. I called him up and talked to the teacher simply because I had to talk to somebody who might understand about my “karate-itis.” Mr. Z was very kind while I blathered on like an idiot, trying to articulate the exhilaration I felt.
The first month or two of karate, I couldn’t get to sleep after class I was so excited and hyped up. Sparring nights were even worse — I would lay awake and think of all the mistakes I made and how many kicks or punches I hadn’t blocked. Luckily, I’ve mellowed now and sleep just great, especially after a karate class. I hope to start up again next week, very slowly, as my knee has mostly healed now. Thanks for listening!
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Wonderful. But not sure where the risk is in it, or books or beauty or other things named.
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Ah, the risk of injury is high. A form or kata in martial arts expresses the beauty and grace of dance, along with the drama of theater and the explosiveness of battle. Extreme martial arts are quite acrobatic and weapon forms are the height of stage combat — especially the weapon fan form.
This is an example of an obviously creative form. If you look around YouTube there are traditional forms without all the acrobatics that are slower and more powerful.
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I guess the risk in my quest to hear live music would be dropping other things I should be doing and spending all my time at musical events. I guess that might be what the others are thinking., they might become book or beauty maniacs.
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That’s lovely, Joanne. Do you know the artist?
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No, just a random video I picked. One day I spent a lot of time looking at all kinds of weapon forms online, but I didn’t want to spend time looking for the best one for here.
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My son did Tae Kwon Do for a few years; I spent lots of sessions watching. He also did Weaponary with the staff, num-chucks and wood sword. That was kinda fun. And something with weapons to music that I forget the name of. He was good but it didn’t spark the passion you mention.
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Cool, Ben. Admittedly, martial arts aren’t for everyone. Before karate, I really didn’t have a strong passion. One never knows when you’ll get “bit” so to speak.
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I feel like I’ve been introduced to a new group of kindred spirits
Wonderful
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The risk is in giving in your deep inner self the permission to do what you want to do even though there are other things to be done to be considered before acting. I am very wise in telling others how to put x’s on their calendars to make time for the important things but not as good about doing it for myself. The day gets away then the week the month the year and the flame is just across the room so accessible and visable but that’s the trap. It’s so easy to put it off that I am afraid I will look back and regret the choices made and those that I passed meaning to get to them later. The danger is in missing life’s calling not in trepidation
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Well said, tim … nicely articulated.
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We need to sacrifice something of ourselves in order to achieve the highest ideal self.
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I forgot to add that I can’t resist popsickles and will devour them at an alarming rate.
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Renee, I bought popsicle molds on clearance and am fascinated by unique popsicle options. I made roasted plum pops and fresh cherry swriled pops as a treat for my physician. There are wonderful options that might allow you to combine popsicles and the Fargo yogurt experience.
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yumm!
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Oh, Dale, that is just lovely! Really, really just very lovely.
For me, like others here, the candle is beauty: beauty in nature, beauty in music, beauty in written words, beauty in art, beauty in the kindness humans can show one another (if they only will), beauty as found in compassion. These things have the power to stop me in my tracks and incapacitate me with weeping, just like your wonderful poem for this morning, Dale. Thank you.
It’s also not out of the question that I might commit suicide by ice cream.
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There is a new frozen yoghurt shop in Fargo called Tutti Frutti. It has the most wonderful and exotic frozen yoghurt flavors that change weekly, along with any fruit or candy topping you can think of. It is all self-serve and cost is calculated by the weight of your dish. Do they have such places in the Cities?
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Nope, not yet.
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I agree wholeheartedly with what has been said thus far – lovely poem Dale.
I sometimes worry that having grown up a Lutheran Minnesotan the draw to the flame sometimes feel somewhat extinguished. I’ve gotten so good at being taciturn and content that I occasionally yearn only for strength in my desires…which is not to say that I am not like others about books, dark chocolate or good cheese (krista, you may commit suicide by ice cream, I’m afraid I would be found with dark chocolate smears, cheese crumbles and a dribble or three of red wine down my front).
And like tim, my day can easily get away from me – sometimes because I simply fritter away the time on small things (like email or rearranging the tupperware cupboard), and others because those small things are so totally fabulous that I get lost in them (like spending 15 minutes watching a heron who was hanging out my Minnehaha Creek, or making clover chains with my daughter). The latter of those small things are my small flames – like a little votive candle, that if you add them all together make quite a conflagration.
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Morning–
Somewhere in another computer HD I have a file of poetry including one very similar to archy’s… sort of an updated version.
I am drawn to documentary’s on public TV stations regarding war. There’s one on Wisconsin Public TV talking to the vets today, talking about their time in the service. It’s a wonderful program that breaks my heart to think about the things these men and women have gone through. To see these people so young and healthy with so much possibility in front of them yet.
And live music; whether TV programs like ‘Austin City Limits’ or watching my son play.
And then lighting. Forgive me if I start talking about lighting because I’ll tell you more than you wanted to know for far longer than you cared to hear.
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and that would be bad how, Ben? telling more than anyone wants to know has never hampered my contributions. take pizzlerot, for example. there now. talk about lighting.
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Talk fresnels to me, Ben…
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Well, in the beginning there was darkness.
Fresnels. . I love fresnels. The look you could get with a 4K fresnel is just amazing. Only in my dreams now. (A different theater long long ago and far far away….)
Fresnels are kind of over-looked by the manufactures because LED’s are the new rage and leko’s are the workhorses that are sexy. So I’m very excited that ETC has come out with a new fresnel! I might just be able to order some this fall.
They make such a nice soft light that can be colored or focused and they’re forgiving. Easy to blend together.
MIG, care to join in?
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Gotta admit, I’d take a fresnel lighting my sets over most anything else…LEDs came in about the time I was cutting back on my theater work, so no firm opinions there…but yeah, that soft fresnel light is a thing of beauty.
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Oh brother! You’re talking a foreign language to me. I’m lost in the dark, so to speak. Must do a little research, I guess.
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And I thought your were talking about lightning with a small typo.
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Go, Ben, go!
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Careful there Krista… I’ll start talking fade times and we’ll be here all night.
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Tell me how to make it look like the sun is setting on stage, please
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Ah – one of the funnest class assignments I had in college was to go watch a sunset and take notes…recreating it on a cyclorama was the challenge. I don’t think I succeeded – but i did have fun “taking notes” with cray-pas while I watched the sun set over the Mississippi. My lighting design course, hands down, had some of the most oddball and creative assignments of all of my classes, I think. (Scenic design comes in next, but those were more open-ended and resulted in things like me hanging out at Kinko’s carefully reducing a newspaper front page to smaller and smaller scale until it was close enough to pass in a 1/2″ scale model…after I had painted it to look yellowed with age.)
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Sunsets: What time of year is it Beth-Ann and where are you located? Are you inside or outside? What’s the weather?
But basically it comes down to color selection. Anna is right. I always groan if the script says ‘We see the sunrise in the distance’… “Aw crap…” I think. Because I’ll never be able to make it right. Equipment limitations, scenic limitations, talent limitations (usually mine), something. And there’s a difference; is the sun setting just on the people or do we have to see it in the distance.
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Ben, If you’d read your script , you wouldn’t have to ask all these questions! 🙂
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The danger in constantly seeking approval, and its corollary: avoiding disapproval, is that you spend your life outer-focused, and become unable to listen to your true self, your muse.
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so true, BiR. come on up and milk a goat. one must stay focused on the process, not just whether the goat disapproves or approves. the trick is keeping one foot in each camp. being sure one is getting all the milk in a timely fashion but also watching those signs of disapproval (stomping, in Alba’s case – or backing up or pushing me off the stand (not very subtle, She) so that all of that effort in squeezing isn’t lost by a quick step-and-tip action.
i guess most things in life are like that, come to think. balancing between the goal and the spills. and not being so scared of the spills that you don’t milk at all. (as tim has said.)
better get out there
‘bye now
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Well said, BiB.
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Yeah.
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i thught about your approval comment yesterda and the look you described. thanks for the vision barbara it was a good one.approval is a strong motivator isn’t it?
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