I had the thought today that this blog could not only serve to document various fatherhood experiences, but could also become a way for Lily (and any future children of mine) to look back and discover something of the character and personality of their father. To that end, I am going to post some of the poetry that I have come across and enjoyed. To stay true to my ideals, I will only post poems I have memorized so that I will, in a way, still be posting something of myself, and not merely copying the thoughts and writings of great minds.
The first poem I'm going to quote is the first poem I memorized since re-embarking on my literary quest last fall: Ulysses by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. I will follow up with thoughts on parenthood.
It little profits that an idle king1,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Matched with an agèd wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Through scudding drifts the rainy Hyades2
Vexed the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honoured of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy3.
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough
Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As though to breathe were life. Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this grey spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
This my son, mine own Telemachus,
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle—
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil
This labour, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and through soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought
with me—
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles4,
And see the great Achilles5, whom we knew
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Those who know me know that I tend to overthink things and am usually trying to stretch my brain somehow. I agree with that aspect of this poem and that view of Ulysses the traveller, but I think that as a father, I'd never sacrifice my family for knowledge. In this version of Ulysses, he values action and wandering as a means for learning as much as possible, but what about his family? What about the knowledge of the psyche and the heart that can only be activated by investing in the people who love you and whom you should love? What about investing in the people who represent your legacy? Can a person afford to ignore them in quest of their own knowledge? No!
In this poem, Ulysses leaves his son his kingdom without any training at all. How could he train his son if he's been gone fighting battles and having adventures? How can we expect our own children to have high expectations of themselves if we do not help them along and train them about the things we have learned along our own roads? Ulysses has an opportunity to do this here, but he bails out! He wants to leave again. He remains an immature boy who cannot accept the responsibilities of having a family.
In some ways, I feel like I am much like the Ulysses portrayed by Tennyson, but I have to draw the line and advise other dads to draw the line at sacrificing our families for whatever our ambitions are - even if they are noble ambitions - for nothing is as important as leaving a strong legacy behind. A legacy that reflects love and the imparting of all our knowledge.
(Steps down from soap box)
