Mozart, 1935

We were asked to have the "Ah-ha" moment by the next class. While I cannot say that I found this exact moment, I can say that I had a "hmmm" moment. While reading "Ideas of Order", or perhaps more accurately flipping through the pages looking for my "Ah-ha" moment...my eyes latched onto the piece titled "Mozart, 1935" It reads as such:

Poet, be seated at the piano.

Play the present, its hoo-hoo-hoo,

Its shoo-shoo-shoo, its ric-a-nic,

Its envious cachinnation.

If they throw stones upon the roof

While you practice arpeggios,

It is because they carry down the stairs

A body in rags.

Be seated at the piano.

That lucid souvenir of the past,

The divertimento;

That airy dream of the future, 

The unclouded concert...

The snow is falling.

Strike the piercing chord.

Be thou the voice,

Not you. Be thou, be thou

The voice of angry fear,

The voice of this besieging pain.

Be though that wintery sound

As of the great wind howling,

By which sorrow is released,

Dismissed, absolved

In a starry placating.

We may return to Mozart.

He was young, and we, we are old.

The snow is falling

And the streets are full of cries.

Be seated, thou. [108]

I found this poem to be particularly interesting. First of all, because Mozart was 35 when he died. The line that states "He was young, and we, we are old" says so much. To have died so young, and to have still accomplished so much, is absolutely amazing. How amazing is it then that Stevens would choose this particular year to write immediately after this very specific name. 

Other things I find interesting include, but are not limited to, what was going on in 1935. This is right around the time of the redefinition of the arts, the beginning of some serious Jazz movements, and moving from these "classical" ideas. When he keeps asking Mozart to sit down, be seated, its almost as if he's saying "okay you have had your  turn, you did some really cool things, but check out what we have coming"

Mozart is one of the greatest composers in history, but even he ended up being no more than a table. He was buried in an unmarked, mass grave. So upon his death, even though he accomplished much, he was no more and no less than any other man. It just seems interesting how very related he is to Lucrecius, in spite of how moving his music is. And perhaps that is the point, that even though, Mozart, Lucrecius, and even Stevens created beautiful, lasting pieces of work, there was much to come after them, and they died just as all men die.