Tags
Canadian poet, Elaine Stirling, French medieval fixed verse, oracle of Delphi, the evil eye, villanelle
~~a villanelle~~
Do you recall the lessons of Delphi
when they trained us to sit as oracle?
Ignore the stink, the side, and gimlet eye,
the ageless priestess warned. The more you try
to please, the less the vapours will supply.
Do you recall the lessons of Delphi?
To know yourself as selves, to multiply,
slip free and clear from every manacle,
ignore the stink, the side, and gimlet eye.
Who shame, exclude, clamour against, or cry
to gods, cannot perceive the miracle.
Do you recall the lessons of Delphi,
trusting all that lives has a time set by,
free and whole, without pain or debacle?
Ignore the stink, the side, and gimlet eye
so Apollo, through you, can prophecy
and reflect anew the historical.
Do you recall the lessons of Delphi?
Ignore the stink, the side, and gimlet eye.
~~~
I’d been thinking about the phrase “gimlet eye” recently but never really knew the meaning of gimlet, apart from a drink made of lime juice and gin. Turns out, it’s also a tool with a cross handle, grooved shank, and screw point. The gimlet eye bores holes through its object of attention, a variation on the age-old evil eye. Given the skill of ancient Greek sculptors, I have no reason to disbelieve they had their own version of gimlets.
© Elaine Stirling, 2016
Oceantics 
A suitably oracular poem. I don’t know if you know this, but the common notion that the oracles spoke gibberish and the male priests “interpreted” it has absolutely no basis in antiquity. It seems to have been invented by Victorians who refused to believe women could have anything sensible to contribute.
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Thanks, Mikels. I hadn’t heard that particular piece of Victorian inventiveness. Presumably, then, they’d have perceived the male figure on the frieze as a priest, rather than, say, an army general or emissary of a king.
Don’t know if you’re a fan of Terry Pratchett, but even if you weren’t fond of his Discworld series, you’d probably enjoy his novel, Nation. The two young protagonists are the daughter of a Victorian scientist and a “native” boy thrown together after a tsunami. The way Pratchett pokes holes in Victorian mores and theories is genius–and so funny! Though fiction, it’s well researched.
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I’ll check it out. Literally!
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Your inventive connections here sent me chasing Delphi-insight, which led to Greece and eagles flying over the center of the world…love how this piece became the oracle for my inner AND mythological landscapes this morning.
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That’s so nice to hear, Bridge–thanks! It’s funny what can transpire from following an impulse as simple as, “I really need to look up gimlet.” 😉
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I have recently offered to the masses an oracle of my own – and it is because each age needs its own view of what the interaction is between non-physical and physical..
The babes (in the innocent sense of the word) who were subjected to gaseous fumes revealed things to others that they (the babes or the clients) did not know of (or, if they were not innocent i.e.,the babes), they pretended to that state).
To me, gimlet speaks of experience, which is not contrary to your (Elaine’s) idea of gimlet.
Things are revealed that aid experience, or confirm experience. And the agent is often innocence!
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Yes, the ability to drill into and through understanding would deepen the analogy of gimlet. It makes sense, too, that the mind-altering state for a neophyte would not allow her to retain or make use of the data she passed along. The high priestess would be someone who’d achieved the sublime balance of innocence (ability to receive) and experience (ability to strategize). Great food for thought, Tielle–thank you.
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