—Ersilia Vaudo
It probably started in poetry; almost everything does.
—Raymond Chandler


It is the rock where tranquil must adduce
Its tranquil self, the main of things, the mind,
The starting point of the human and the end,
That in which space itself is contained, the gate
To the enclosure, day, the things illumined
By day, night and that which night illumines,
Night and its midnight-minting fragrances,
Night’s hymn of the rock, as in a vivid sleep.
—Wallace Stevens
NOTES
—Ersilia Vaudo in The Story of Astrophysics in Five Revolutions (2025, trans Italian)
—Raymond Chandler in "The Simple Art of Murder" (1944)
—Wallace Stevens from the poem "The Rock" (1954)
—Ersilia Vaudo in The Story of Astrophysics in Five Revolutions (2025, trans Italian)
—Raymond Chandler in "The Simple Art of Murder" (1944)
—Wallace Stevens from the poem "The Rock" (1954)
—Photos: Douglas Beauchamp, Lassen County CA
—Below: Wallace Stevens from the poem “Prologues To What Is Possible” (1954)
—Below: Wallace Stevens from the poem “Prologues To What Is Possible” (1954)
The metaphor stirred his fear. The object with which he was compared
Was beyond his recognizing. By this he knew that likeness of him extended
Only a little way, and not beyond, unless between himself
And things beyond resemblance there was this and that intended to be recognized,
The this and that in the enclosures of hypotheses
On which men speculated in summer when they were half asleep.


