This poem is about James Merrill’s own approaching death as
much as it is about Christmas, but it has an acceptance that makes it not
depressing, but just a beautiful poem.
I looked at a lot of pictures and this was the one I wanted, even with all the sadness in the poem.
Viggo Johansen Happy Christmas
I one saw James Merrill described as the Mozart of American poets, which is a satisfying desription.
It is, I have found over the years, hard to find great
photographs of Christmas trees indoors. Outside they can look magnificent,
beautiful, inviting. Indoors they just don’t look that great – though everyone
knows a good-looking indoor tree is a wonder to behold. So I don’t know why
that would be.
This Christmas tree picture is from an NYPL folder containing designs for a Balanchine/Jerome Robbins Nutcracker.
It is a lovely poem, Moira, if also very sad. There's definitely a certain peace in that acceptance you mention. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThanks Margot: yes, it seems to express something beautiful
DeleteA fascinating poem; thank you for sharing it. I know more about the 16th century poets than 20th century ones and have never heard of James Merrill, although now that I have read about him, I realize I knew two of his cousins or possibly nephews, which is funny. One started a very good secondary school I nearly attended. At least some of that Merrill Lynch money was used well.
ReplyDeleteWhat a surprising connection! I know the basics of Merrill's life, but it would be interesting to know more. Happy Christmas to you
DeleteIt's lovely. Chrissie
ReplyDeleteSo glad you like it too.
DeleteThat is quite moving, Moira. I was unfamiliar with the poem and with Merrill.
ReplyDeleteThanks Tracy. I think it's a poem for every Christmas...
DeleteFor some unknown reason it called a sanitarium to mind, magic mountain et al. Beautiful poem! Merrill an unknown to me, must remedy that!
ReplyDeleteI love his poems. And I do see what you mean, Magic Mountain indeed. I did a whole series of posts on sanatoriums a few years back, became obsessed with the atmosphere in them, and this does bring that to mind - hectic fever...
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