How Late Their Fathers Be!

I was at a Lunch Hour Concert yesterday. Greta Bradman sang The Sunset, which is Respighi's musical version for soprano and string quartet of Robert Ascoli's Italian translation of Shelley's poem The Sunset.

That meant there was a lot to do. Follow the Italian, follow the English, listen to the music, listen to Greta and watch Greta. Impossible to do them all. I chose to pay attention to Greta, because she was so pretty, and she wore a shot silk lilac dress with a ruffle on one shoulder. Her voice was high and pure.

It was the right choice. The Sunset is Shelley at his dippiest. A young man and his lady walk into a forest at sunset, to 'know the unreserve of mingled being', after which the the young man says, Is it not strange Isabel? I never saw the sun. They agree that they will look at it tomorrow, but the next morning the young man is dead and cold. The young lady has to spend the rest of her life looking after her aged father. You see what I mean.

The second song that Greta sang was a setting of an Emily Dickinson poem, How Slow the Wind.

It's a short poem, and it goes like this:

how slow the wind-
how slow the sea-
how late their Fathers be!

Greta sang it so beautifully you could almost think it made sense, but what does it mean? I didn't know. When I got home I googled Emily Dickinson to see if anybody knew. At first I thought I was in luck. One site quoted the last line as : how late their Feathers be.

Oh I thought, Feathers, that makes a lot more sense. But on further reflection I concluded that Feathers made no more sense than Fathers.

Chocolate Stream of Consciousness

Mmm I've just eaten a chocolate it was a Sorini chocolate Li Feng gave me a whole tin of them this morning. What's a Sorini chocolate I suppose you are wondering, I wondered that too especially as it was given me by Li Feng. Did she buy it in Chinatown and was it a Chinese chocolate or did she buy it in Newton which would make it more likely to be Italian. Of course I know Sorini sounds Italian but the Chinese make Italian chocolates I have no doubt. There is nothing written on the tin. What do the chocolates taste like, the answer is they taste like Bertie Beetles only round.

I just booked two places at the next Sprigg lecture which is on the 17th. I wonder if Pliny would like to go it is just up his alley. It's about a woodland rehabilitation initiative in the Mount Lofty region aimed at restoring habitat for a suite of birds. A suite of birds, Pliny would like that. And I think he would enjoy sitting in the Pacific Cultures gallery under a straw alligator suspended from the ceiling with the walls on both sides lined with primitive weapons, hearing all about the suite of birds. And if they didn't offer him a glass of wine at the beginning he wouldn't mind because he wouldn't be expecting it, just like he doesn't know I've got Sorini chocolates.

Dance Not With Your Heart

How did you like Sophia Loren? I asked Pliny the Elder, the next day.

She was indeed very beautiful, he replied, but why was she playing the part of a Greek sponge gatherer? Is she not Italian?

She is Italian, I said, but it doesn't matter when you are acting. You follow the directions and it usually comes out right. Someone would have said to her, Now Sophia, remember you are a proud Greek woman, throw back your shoulders! And she did, to great effect. Also, if you saw the trailer, you may recall her fisherman boyfriend saying jealously, Tonight when you dance for him, dance with your head and your hands, but not with your heart. Then you see her dancing a Greek dance, stiff as a board. She really was awfully good.

True, said Pliny. We Italians are very good at most things.