Good morning.
For today, a piece of art-about-art: W.H. Auden’s Musee de Beaux Arts, inspired by Pieter Breughel’s Landscape with the Fall of Icarus, in its entirety:
About suffering they were never wrong,
The old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position: how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water, and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.
Art tries to pay attention to something. Both Auden and Breughel are doing this, but the main thing they are paying attention to is how little we pay attention (or at least how limited the scope of our attention is).
Most of the world we’ll never know. Even the things which do briefly enter our awareness will mostly fail to hold our interest. New ideas, international conflicts, the stories of others, it’s all the same: only a tiny feature in the landscape of our life.
And so too with the people around us. Although it eludes us, everybody’s life is as rich and detailed as our own.