Histoire et mémoire en Europe

This one was written on the last night of a trip to Burgundy with my parents during my year abroad, and takes its title from one of the units I was studying at Sciences Po. The main theme is the weight of history, changing perceptions as decades and centuries pass, and the continuity of humanity through the ages. I recall it came out a lot more abstract than I'd originally intended, but looking back, the turn of 2012 seems to have been something of a watershed for my work. From here on in, things generally get noticeably more complex. Never really noticed before I revisited these for the blog!

The main inspiration for the poem came from the Parc Noisot above the village of Fixin south of Dijon, which we visited briefly. Claude Noisot (1787-1861) – a former bodyguard to Napoleon Bonaparte – is buried there, in the midst of a landscaped park unabashedly dedicated to the Emperor's glory. France's complex relationship with that particular legacy set me musing on 'history and memory', and bingo: the unit title was a perfect fit. I do hope it's not copyright. ;)

HISTOIRE ET MÉMOIRE EN EUROPE

Looking down at the plain

Shape of the land from a forested hillside

The scene was set

For another little glimpse

Another little flash

(Call it inspiration

Call it what you feel).

I said "you're history

And I can be memory"

Back again for another look

At the silent signs

And frozen faces

Of twisting places

And prior times.

So questioning the fact of where we were

And are

And what we were meant to think of each other

I stared into the face

Of a man I'd never met

Awakening in mineral form while down below

His body slept.

Halfway to death or maybe

Seems to me that's how it is

For anyone at any given moment

No exception made for

The eternal emperor

Or the timeless tyrant

We can't even agree on him any more.

To lose the reckless romance

And search for some consistency

Is a challenge so beyond

And out of sight

That we can't hope to accept it

Try as we might

Therein lies pure vertigo.

What of the forgotten men

Watching over the more glorious dead?

This one's guarding still

What's his rhythm, did he clock

That someone new had stepped over his path?

Or more likely, is he past

All care for his lands of pride?

Over his shoulder on the hill and on the plain

And for miles in all directions

In space and time the many millions

Had prepared new lives

Wings for their children though their own fell to pieces

But how far did they fly

And how far have we followed?

Are we lost in posterity

Or are we forgetful

Or free

To try and grasp

The memory of the meaning

Of that thing we call

Eternity?

Questions without answers?

Too true

But on reflection a lot of the time

That's history for you

Get some compassion and memory

Remember the past's humanity

And we should get through.

Can't stay too long

In a forest of wandering and wondering like this

Confusion is all too common

For all of us, forever

It can only be a glimpse

A flash

Of inspiration, or whatever.

Thanks to: Jefferson Starship for Ai Garimasu (There Is Love), Malicorne for Quand Le Cyprès, Seth Lakeman for Stepping Over You, and Men Without Hats for Rhythm Of Youth.