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Sonnets for Christ the King, Joseph Charles Mackenzie

Stephen Fry once said of the sonnet: “The ability to write a sonnet fluently was, and to some extent still is, considered the true mark of a poet”. That’s right; it’s too much to expect every poet to write an epic; it’s too trivial to be able to write a haiku. It is nothing to write free verse; but in the strange and seemingly infinite flexibility of the sonnet form, poets can exhibit the most complex – conversely, the simplest – thoughts and emotions, and describe almost every aspect of human experience. kind of shadow. Looking back at the English language over the past five hundred years, almost all of the truly great poets have composed memorable sonnets whose impact is far and wide. In addition to sonnets that speak in their own distinctive voice, we also have complete collections of sonnets, most notably Shakespeare’s 154 poems (although if we include sonnets that appear in his plays, there are more), in which the works begin to assume epic proportions as a narrative emerges in which themes and themes are explored with relentless precision and beauty. Of course, in the canon of English literature, I think the ability to construct a beautiful sonnet is second only to writing epic poems.

So we have Joseph Charles Mackenzie’s sonnet to Christ the King. The work is currently in audiobook form, although I was lucky enough to see an electronic version; it includes 77 sonnets in total. How is this going? How good are they? Where does Joseph Charles Mackenzie fit in the pantheon of poets?

First, off topic. That number — 77 — is significant. In fact, every detail matters to a true poet. Those with quick reflexes will notice that the number 77 is half of what Shakespeare wrote down: 154. Mackenzie uses Shakespeare’s structure instead of Petrarch’s. The bragging has already been heard, albeit indirectly at the time. But more than that, numbers have always held enormous significance for spiritual poets. The two most important sonnets in the English language—the forms of Petrarch and Shakespeare—are always 14 lines long (ignoring unusual forms for this analysis, such as Meredithian Sonnet – 16 – and Curtal (Hopkin s) – 7, etc.). 14 is 2 x 7, and 7 is a perfect number. Being a perfect number doesn’t happen by accident, but why is 7 a perfect number? It is the perfect number because it is the sum of 4, representing the earth and everything in it, the four corners, the four cardinal points and heaven, the Holy Trinity. It is the harmonious addition of the two, representing completion. (For those wondering why there are 8 and 9, then 8 is an ascending sign of mathematical infinity, representing resurrection – new life beyond the current heaven and earth. Jesus is often described as rising on the third day He rose again, but from Passover The third day from the beginning of the week in which it occurs is also the 8th. The number 9 represents the reconciliation of all things, which was symbolized in the Ascension of Christ).

Moreover, in terms of numerology, both 14 and 77 are single digits, 1+4=5, 7+7=14=1+4=5. Both the structure of the sonnet and the number in the sequence are represented by the number 5. This theologically represents “grace” – hence the day of Pentecost: 5. When the Holy Spirit comes. What MacKenzie does is reveal that the descent of the muse is an act of elegance in the structure of poetry. He also refers to an older tradition, according to which the Spirit of God is feminine: as in Wisdom (Proverbs 8), he was “at the beginning of his ways, before his ancient works”. In other words, in so far as we can describe the inexpressible in human language, Wisdom – the Spirit of God – is not a created “thing”, but she is with him, “From the beginning I was ordained, From the beginning…” She was the muse of Christianity.These numbers are important, then, and we see them in various structural ways in poetry; too much to explore in detail now, but for example, the last 14 sonnets (Sonnets 64-77) are all named “First [then 1-14] Station’ is followed by a brief description of what each station requires. In Mackenzie’s work, therefore, it’s not a mess of poetry, but a building — a universe, if you will — that seeks to reflect the larger universe of which we are all part.

In my opinion, some of the best sonnets and poems I have read published since World War II are contained in Sonnets to a King. His work is actually very, very good, but also quirky! Perhaps strangest of all is his ability to write poetry that is completely rambling, and it’s still poetry. We are so used to postmodern poets writing code poems with obscure imagery, esoteric diction and indulgent, self-satisfied solipsism that we can hardly believe it when someone articulates what they mean to say and says it as it is — at least like this is for them. But the beauty of this great poem is that the poet in him touches us emotionally even when we disagree and share his theology. There are so many beautiful lines and ideas in this collection.

The first thing to know, then, is that this poem is highly religious; MacKenzie is clearly a devout Christian and Catholic, and the underlying tenets of these two highly related positions run throughout the series. If this were a purely fundamentalist text—like beating a simple drum—it would turn off the casual reader. But it’s not: it’s real poetry, because what it involves is empathy, real poetry disarms the critical intellect. A good example is Sonnet 6, which is one of my 7 favorites out of the 77 we have. Titled “El Castillo Interior,” the poem explores an inner, spiritual journey through a series of bold imagery, beginning with a castle with “seven rooms…lit.” Each room had its own challenges: “In one room there were vipers, in the other room there was war,” until finally we came to a prayer room where he ended with this amazing couplet in the middle:

In the center, I’m dead,

The being that loves me says, “I married you”.

That–that–is so simple, so contradictory, so deep; when all human resources fail, the soul weeps. Of course, its cries completely vindicate the old “you” as it invokes the language of the wedding service. This is a poem that pays off many, many rereads.

On the subject of “many,” many poets have been disappointed by their endings; they started well, had some interesting things to say, but somehow couldn’t come to a satisfying conclusion. That’s not the case with Shakespeare’s sonnets, though, and neither are Joseph MacKenzie’s sonnets: his sonnets specialize in masterful closing couplets that can almost stand on their own, and they are so aphoristic and powerful. Here are three good examples:

Sonnet 11: Song of the Magi

We follow in the dead of night,

And found the fragile source of light.

Sonnet 35: Advent 3

You’ll see, all the time,

My cry that fills the desert is the song

Sonnet 58: Ego Sum – Here I must give the preceding quatrain because – frankly – too exciting to omit:

I don’t know why some people can’t see it,

Or why they kill what they pretend to love;

I only know this great verb, ‘to yes,’

Can enter thought only from above,

Praying, with a mourning cloth on his head,

I will not be found among the dead.

This leads to thinking about MacKenzie’s approach to the Christian story; I think it’s the closest approximation we can get to the “truth”. That is, the entire narrative is both literal and mythological. Literal rather than mythical, limits its application; mythic rather than literal, limits its power. We see this clearly not only in the specific Christ fragments of the narrative, but also in all the other biblical and theological allusions he makes.

Take Sonnet 62: Boring.

if adam never diverted attention

From life, or yield to dust…

This clearly makes the Eden story both real and mythical: it acknowledges what almost all early cultures did, that humans were involved in some aboriginal disaster in the first place, which is why we, unlike the gods, died up. This is why early civilizations did not believe in progress but regress. The golden age is long gone, and now we live in the Iron Age. Religion – religion – is the only, necessary, proper response to this catastrophe. But Mackenzie thinks the story of Eden can only be done by a poet: Adam is no longer “fruit”, but “his mind is far away” (and note the brilliant line break that mimics the twist) from “life” – not sullen old God . Then the genius word “bends the knee” – Latin, obscure, perfect – by contrast with all the other simple words: Adam effectively bowed his own mind – in other words, distorted it – the choice of wording here Just a reflection of that horrible choice he made at the time. In the words we choose—because they express or represent our thought choices—we live or die. Writing at this level is onomatopoeic, or imitative, not only in diction but in structure and thought, which is what makes it so compelling.

To elaborate a bit on this fact, Shakespeare’s choice of sonnet form is well suited to dialectics: thesis, antithesis, and the structured closing couplet, often offering explosive, unexpected, and illuminating synthesis. From the grand architecture to the form of the sonnet, to every loving line Mackenzie crafts.

So, on the subject of lines, here are some beauties I have to share:

Sonnet 25: Carols of Autumn

“Oh, the rich content of our mother’s sorrow”

Sonnet 28: Regnum Meun Non Est De Hoc Mundo

“Maggots stop buying mouths of praise”

Sonnet 38: Adoration of the Shepherds

“Although the heart of man is cold, the barn is warm”

I could go on, but I think my leanings are clear: this is an important poem by an important poet, even though it’s so unorthodox, anti-worldly, and purely religious that one doesn’t see the chattering media forever embracing it. But what are its downsides?

No complete work of poetry is perfect. As the Pope remarked, “even Homer would nod”. All that said, Gerard Manley Hopkins is one of my favorite poets, and I think some lines and whole poems of his are among the greatest in the English language; But there are passages in which Hopkins is bewildered by his own metrical theory, by his superior ingenuity, and by a utterly inappropriate choice of words. So, if anyone thinks I’m being too picky about Joseph Mackenzie’s collection, there are a few small – unimportant to me – elements that are a little out of sync. One is the occasional fondness for archaic phraseology: mayst, ’tis, which I would not recommend myself. Furthermore, his use and occasional use of foreign languages, especially but not exclusively Latin, often made his work seem more refined and elitist than it really was. Others might complain about his use of big abstractions, in capital letters, such as love, beauty, and truth. Plato is indeed back, and the modern world won’t like it because, like Pontius Pilate, they love the question “What is truth?” better one. But these are just small caveats to the way I think; poetry is a gold mine of many treasures, and anyone who studies what MacKenzie does will learn a lot, besides experiencing some absolutely beautiful poetry .

Finally, let me urge Mackenzie to publish this book in hardcover! I know he loves the oral tradition, but I’m not the only one who loves to read feel-good hardcovers. So all I can say is please visit your version of this great work. It took at least forty years after Hopkins’ death for his work to be appreciated, so let’s hope MacKenzie gets the recognition he deserves before then. Find him: https://mackenziepoet.com

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