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Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained | |||
John Frederick Nims’ "From the Rapido: La Spezia - Genova" is a villanelle that juxtaposes the dazzling beauty of the Italian Riviera with the ominous, inescapable presence of darkness, both literal and metaphorical. The poem’s refrain—glossies of Eden… thunder of tunnels and the underworld—creates a rhythmic alternation between light and dark, pleasure and peril, suggesting that life’s most radiant moments are always shadowed by inevitable descents. Through its tightly woven structure and evocative imagery, the poem explores the transient nature of joy, the cyclical movement between light and obscurity, and the tension between earthly delight and the looming unknown. The poem’s setting is a train ride along the Ligurian coast, moving between idyllic coastal views and the sudden blackness of tunnels. The opening line, Glossies of Eden? immediately sets up a questioning tone, as if the poet is skeptical of the perfection being glimpsed. The word glossies suggests the idealized images found in travel magazines, shimmering but perhaps superficial representations of paradise. The description of slim beaches curled / Between rocks and the frill of foam captures the seductive beauty of the shoreline, its sinuous Eve shape evoking both temptation and fragility. However, just as this vision settles, it is abruptly interrupted: Then there's thunder of tunnels and the underworld. The transition from light to darkness is jarring, as the train plunges into subterranean obscurity, evoking an almost mythological descent into the realm of Pluto, god of the dead. This alternation continues throughout the poem, with each burst of sunlight and scenic wonder followed by another plunge into darkness. The train emerges again back to sea-dazzle and tile roofs' cayenne, where the vibrant colors of the Mediterranean world momentarily overpower the memory of darkness. Yet, the repetition of the refrain ensures that the reader, like the traveler, never forgets that another tunnel—and another fall into shadow—is coming. The imagery of slim beaches curled / Like sinuous Eve, her lassitudes reinforces the idea of fleeting pleasure, as if these landscapes, like Eden itself, are bound to be lost or disrupted. The mention of Steinberg heaven—a likely reference to the artist Saul Steinberg, known for his whimsical, surreal drawings—suggests a dreamlike quality to these landscapes. There is something both playful and artificial in their perfection, as if the coastal murals and villas belong to an illustrated fantasy rather than reality. Yet even this artistic vision cannot hold: then / That shudder of tunnels and the underworld. The word shudder gives the transition an almost bodily reaction, as if the train itself recoils from the plunge into darkness. A shift occurs when the poet turns his gaze to the people along the coast: But swimtogs merry in blue coves! Their swirled / Piquant revealings glory be! Amen. Here, the delight in the human body, in physical presence and sunlit pleasure, is almost ecstatic. The use of Amen suggests a moment of reverence, as if these seaside scenes represent a form of secular paradise. The poem revels in the textures of vacation life: pavilion, pier, a blazon of towels unfurled, the vibrancy of youth, movement, and summer leisure. Yet, inevitably, the refrain returns: Again / A thunder of tunnels and the underworld. The word again reinforces the cyclical nature of this movement between exhilaration and obliteration. The final stanza introduces a literary allusion to the Venerable Bede’s famous metaphor of life as a bird flying briefly through the warmth of a hall before vanishing into the night: Books talk of Bede's warm hall, how winter whirled / Through wassailing scops—back into night—that wren, / Sparrow, whatever. This reference deepens the poem’s meditation on transience. Just as Bede’s sparrow enjoys a fleeting moment of warmth before disappearing into the unknown, so too does the train passenger briefly glimpse sunlit Eden before plunging back into darkness. The dismissive wren, / Sparrow, whatever suggests a resigned attitude, as if the precise identity of the bird—or of any individual life—ultimately matters little in the face of eternity. The final lines return to the central question: But these beaches! curled / So close to abutments of the underworld? Here, the contrast reaches its peak—how can such paradisiacal landscapes exist so close to the reminders of mortality? The image of abutments of the underworld suggests that even the most joyous, sun-drenched places are built on the edge of something ominous. The question remains unresolved, echoing the larger existential uncertainty at the heart of the poem. The use of a villanelle, with its insistent refrains, mirrors the inescapable rhythm of this realization: no matter how often we emerge into beauty, darkness waits. In "From the Rapido: La Spezia - Genova," Nims masterfully balances lyrical celebration with philosophical reflection. The train journey serves as both literal experience and extended metaphor for life’s unpredictable oscillation between clarity and obscurity, pleasure and peril. The poem ultimately suggests that while we may momentarily revel in the glossies of Eden, we are never far from the next tunnel—and the unknowable depths it conceals.
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