An offering for the gods in the shadows and of the depths against David Jones’ ‘bland megalopolitan light’ from Heron. A piece whose paradoxes and dichotomies I shall be returning to frequently, for it contains much wisdom about the relationships between the worlds and the Brythonic gods.
In the bland megalopolitan light
where no shadow is by day or by night
be our shadow
So wrote the artist and poet David Jones in his prayer to ‘The Tutelar of the Place’. To live with the gods is to live in a world of shadows, depths, mysteries. The opposite is a world where there are no shady nooks, hidden places, recesses; a world of hard surfaces and exposed spaces. Such a world does not exist, as hard as humans have tried to create it. Though many do live in such a world, lit by “the bland megalopolitan light” which banishes the natural darkness of night, a world constructed of the flat planes of our buildings and our roads. It is a conjectural world as much as a constructed world. Imagined as an ideal, realised imperfectly as a fact but dominating the imagined spaces around us.
Are the gods…
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