This marks the 100th
birthday of the great Welsh poet Dylan Thomas.
So let us begin with a few lines from his poem Fern Hill.
“And
fire green as grass,
And
nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.”
When I first read this poem in
high school, I did not know what he was talking about. Yet, I loved the lilting sound of the words,
their unexpected, startling juxtaposition, the rhythm of the language that
carried the reader or the listener forward on a captivating journey. But when I thought more about the poem I came
to realize Thomas was recalling his childhood in Wales.
In
college I read T.S. Eliot’s The Love Song
of J. Alfred Prufrock, a far more intellectual poem. The extraordinary opening line grabbed me by
the throat and would not let go: "Let us go now you and I where the evening is spread out against
the sky like a patient etherized upon a table." I liked the poem, but why I could not say. But because I had to write a paper analyzing
the poem, I had to understand it as best as I could. This forced me to dig beneath its surface to
gain insight into its meaning. I also
considered the analysis of critics and scholars.
Most critics agreed that Prufrock spoke to the corrosive and
emasculating effect of modern society on humankind. Some thought “you” and “I” in the opening
stanza reflected a dialog between Prufrock and an imaginary woman he did not
have the courage to meet. I posited that
"you" and "I" were two aspects of the psyche within the
same person.
At the time I could not have realized
that my approach to the poem would be similar to what I and my colleagues do as
judges. The big difference is that what we
read is not as inspiring, nor as enduring as poetry. We analyze briefs and write about them. But, like literary critics, we do not always
come to the same conclusion and often see issues differently. Our opinions that reflect our diverse analyses
and interpretations can be equally convincing and valid.
But in another respect, I never
expected that my analysis of T.S. Eliot’s famous poem would visit me with a
vengeance some 47 years later. And this
takes us back to my last month’s October column. “Pardon the Interruption.” You may recall I wrote about Martine
Rothblatt's book "Virtually Human."
He wrote about modern technology allowing us to create cyber-conscious
digital replicas of ourselves. He has
created one of his wife, called Bina48.
It is one thing for a column to
engender discussion and debate, but I never expected to be confronted with what
resulted from this column. It stems from
talented and resourceful lawyers. Many
are musicians, writers, and artists. And
some are scientists. The staff at my
court, under the coordination of research attorney Katy Graham, created a virtual
replica of myself.
I was thrilled and looked forward to a
warm, enduring and beneficial partnership. But if I had thought back to a peculiar
concert at the Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles I attended a few years ago, I
would not have had such high expectations. It featured the great jazz pianist Art Tatum. Tatum’s prodigious technique and harmonic
inventions were so awesome that even the great piano virtuoso Vladimir Horowitz
listened to him. When I was around 10
years old, my Dad took me to hear Tatum at Sardis, a club in Hollywood. I recall
standing next to the piano and watching the blur of Tatum's fingers over the
keyboard.
But how could I attend this concert
when Tatum had been dead for over 40 years?
This was a virtual concert.
Technicians had reproduced Tatum’s solo concert at the Shrine Auditorium
in 1939 on a concert grand Steinway. My
wife and I were among the few people who showed up for the concert. Sitting in the cavernous Shrine Auditorium
watching a Steinway piano play without a player was creepy. After a few numbers we had to get out of
there.
Interruption
for advertisement. Speaking of the
Shrine Auditorium, and a piano player named Art, I will be playing the piano
there for a Veterans Day Concert with the award winning Big Band of Barristers
conducted by Gary Greene, Esq. on Sunday, November 9th, at 3:00
p.m. Doors open at 1:00 p.m. Guest artists and the great singing group
Singers-In-Law will be performing. Free
tickets are available if you click on www.BigBandGig.eventbrite.com. You will find that lawyers swing. End of
advertisement.
But getting back to my virtual self. I had such high hopes. It's a long drive to Ventura. I thought it would allow me to work at home
more often. My cyberself Arthur 2 could
take care of routine cases and sign orders.
But to be perfectly frank, I don’t trust him. We seldom see eye to eye on anything. He wants to do the hard cases. That’s fine with me, but he gets the wrong
results. He is much tougher than I am on
continuances. Now I have to drive up
more often to keep an eye on him. And
get this, he objects to the name Arthur 2.
What? He should be Arthur 1? No way. And he constantly interrupts me. He is a pain in the ass.
I want to get rid of him. But like Prufrock he is a part of me. Let’s face it, we can’t get away from
ourselves. And at least Arthur 2 and I
have some things in common. For example
we both love Dylan Thomas. Of course, I
cannot know how many years I have left, and Arthur 2 could be around years
after I am gone. But Arthur 2 knows that
“forever” is a dream. We have told each
other:
“Do
not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
