I suspect its both. Two sides of a coin: the poet doesn't work without the muse but the muse wouldn't exist without the poet, either. Like most things in life its co-existing.
There is an anecdote from Laila Majnu- The king of that region listens to Majnu’s poems. After reading his poems amd listening about Majnu going crazy over Laila, the king starts imagning Laila as epitome of beauty. Thus he asks for Laila to be brought to his court.
Laila comes, the king sees her, laila goes back.
The king asks Majnu to be brought to the court. He questions Majnu- What do you see in Laila, that you have gone mad in her love? She is like any orher ordinary woman.
To this Majnu, very innocently replies- You need the eyes of Majnu to see Laila’s beauty.
It makes me wonder about the role the muse plays in all creativity…what if the muse was some sort of animate energy separate from all the players with its own purpose to play out? It seems that no matter what, all creativity has a muse of some sort.
Thanks for this “musing.” I love all your writing.
The debate over the connection between art and madness/suffering is a long one, and ultimately unanswerable by current methods. My data-free opinion is that suffering provides material for a writer, but has little to do with their skill in writing about that or anything else.
Are the two mutually exclusive ? Perhaps he was a poet all along and didn’t need to suffer to have material for his poetry but writing his poetry helped him endure his suffering because he loved it (with the happy consequence of there being even more poems, and particularly heart felt ones for his audience to enjoy).
Maybe this is the seed for your next book, Elif? Bringing Layla and Majnun’s story to our times as they dive inward to find their essence: muse and poet.
A beautiful and thought provoking piece. But I was sadly (i am no poet) unable to tear my eyes away from a chess board of, it seems, 42 or maybe 49 squares with a highly unconventional deployment of perhaps 21 pieces, configured as if the chess pieces are arranged in a game of draughts (checkers for the Americans). Nevertheless it goes without saying that a game fo chess is a beautiful allegory for the tension within and ultimate resolution of the Tristan and Isolde relationship
In John Green’s book, Tuberculosis is Everything, he discusses how in eighteenth and nineteenth century Europe, tuberculosis was romanticized and believed having it created great writers who were more in tune with beauty and deep emotions. Friends lamented that Byron never got consumption, it would have made him a better writer.
I suspect its both. Two sides of a coin: the poet doesn't work without the muse but the muse wouldn't exist without the poet, either. Like most things in life its co-existing.
Lovely chicken and egg parable here. It’s fascinating to learn this story and its background.
There is an anecdote from Laila Majnu- The king of that region listens to Majnu’s poems. After reading his poems amd listening about Majnu going crazy over Laila, the king starts imagning Laila as epitome of beauty. Thus he asks for Laila to be brought to his court.
Laila comes, the king sees her, laila goes back.
The king asks Majnu to be brought to the court. He questions Majnu- What do you see in Laila, that you have gone mad in her love? She is like any orher ordinary woman.
To this Majnu, very innocently replies- You need the eyes of Majnu to see Laila’s beauty.
"You need the eyes of Majnu to see Laila’s beauty."
True. Love is the privilege of being able to see in someone else something that others cannot.
Love this!
It makes me wonder about the role the muse plays in all creativity…what if the muse was some sort of animate energy separate from all the players with its own purpose to play out? It seems that no matter what, all creativity has a muse of some sort.
Thanks for this “musing.” I love all your writing.
The muse would Not exist without the poet.
Nor the thesaurus.
Must get o e of those……😁
The debate over the connection between art and madness/suffering is a long one, and ultimately unanswerable by current methods. My data-free opinion is that suffering provides material for a writer, but has little to do with their skill in writing about that or anything else.
Writers can have many different kinds of emotional experiences from which to draw lines and stanzas.
Very true, Malcolm. Experience is good grist for the writing mill!
Are the two mutually exclusive ? Perhaps he was a poet all along and didn’t need to suffer to have material for his poetry but writing his poetry helped him endure his suffering because he loved it (with the happy consequence of there being even more poems, and particularly heart felt ones for his audience to enjoy).
Maybe this is the seed for your next book, Elif? Bringing Layla and Majnun’s story to our times as they dive inward to find their essence: muse and poet.
“You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens." ~Rumi
When poetry is love, maybe it’s both the chicken and the egg? ❤️
Interesting, I agree with Bee, it is both sides of a coin.
A beautiful and thought provoking piece. But I was sadly (i am no poet) unable to tear my eyes away from a chess board of, it seems, 42 or maybe 49 squares with a highly unconventional deployment of perhaps 21 pieces, configured as if the chess pieces are arranged in a game of draughts (checkers for the Americans). Nevertheless it goes without saying that a game fo chess is a beautiful allegory for the tension within and ultimate resolution of the Tristan and Isolde relationship
Although chess is basically an adversarial arrangement it does have an attractive emotional mystique. Have you read poems with chess in the forefront?
What says the Clock in the Great Clock Tower?
Niamh that rode on it; lad and lass
That sat so still and played at the chess?
What but heroic wantonness?
A slow low note and an iron bell.
Aleel, his Countess; Hanrahan
That seemed but a wild wenching man;
What says the Clock in the Great Clock Tower?
And all alone comes riding there
The King that could make his people stare,
Because he had feathers instead of hair.
A slow low note and an iron bell.
"One of the main interests of his young manhood was chess..." (John Masefield, Some Memories of W.B. Yeats, Dublin, 1940)
Very interesting addition to the stories of the muse and their impact on creativity
Thank you for this text and for the question it poses :-)
In John Green’s book, Tuberculosis is Everything, he discusses how in eighteenth and nineteenth century Europe, tuberculosis was romanticized and believed having it created great writers who were more in tune with beauty and deep emotions. Friends lamented that Byron never got consumption, it would have made him a better writer.
We need more poets who are broken-hearted wrecks, like Plath and Sexton. Today's are a very self-assured bunch