Mort aux Chats -- Peter Porter

Not an Australian poem, but an Australian poet, and I suppose that counts
for something...

(Poem #572) Mort aux Chats There will be no more cats. Cats spread infection, Cats pollute the air, Cats consume seven times their own weight in food a week, Cats were worshipped in decadent societies (Egypt and Ancient Rome); the Greeks had no use for cats. Cats sit down to pee (our scientists have proved it). The copulation of cats is harrowing; they are unbearably fond of the moon. Perhaps they are all right in their own country but their traditions are alien to ours. Cats smell, they can't help it, you notice it going upstairs. Cats watch too much television, they can sleep through storms, they stabbed us in the back last time. There have never been any great artists who were cats. They don't deserve a capital C except at the beginning of a sentence. I blame my headaches and my plants dying on cats. Our district is full of them, property values are falling. When I dream of God I see a Massacre of Cats. Why should they insist on their own language and religion, who needs to purr to make his point? Death to all cats! The Rule of Dogs shall last a thousand years! -- Peter Porter

As George MacBeth puts it, "only a confirmed cat-lover could write such a
charming indictment of the species"...

That said, this is as good a putdown of racist propaganda as any I've seen.
It's the tone of voice that does it, I think - the same mix of populist
rhetoric and vile innuendo, the same blend of twisted logic and warped
facts... Porter takes the caricature to extremes ("I blame my headaches and
my plants dying on cats"), but let's not forget that people have been taken
in by far less rational arguments in the past; the vicious anti-cat
demagoguery may be sidesplittingly funny in its particulars, but it's no
less powerful for that.

And of course, the last sentence (which I did _not_ expect, the first time I
read this poem) puts the whole poem into context - when we finally find out
who the speaker is, we know _precisely_ how much trust to put into his
words.

thomas.

PS. "they stabbed us in the back / last time" is a reference to a phrase
used by Hitler during his ascent to power: "Hitler considered the German
politicians who prematurely ended World War One and established the German
democratic republic to be traitors (the 'November criminals', he called
them); their actions were akin to a 'stab in the back'. In Hitler's mind and
among many Germans, the Army had not been defeated on the battlefield but
had been undermined by political treachery at home."
        -- http://www.historyplace.com/worldwar2/riseofhitler/trial.htm

PPS. I'm also reminded of Snoopy's Kitten Kaboodle stories - equally
'speciesist', and aimed at an equally specific target audience ("PlayBeagle
has bought the entire series" <grin>).

Your Attention Please -- Peter Porter

Indulging my morbid streak...

(Poem #222) Your Attention Please The Polar DEW has just warned that A nuclear rocket strike of At least one thousand megatons Has been launched by the enemy Directly at our major cities. This announcement will take Two and a quarter minutes to make, You therefore have a further Eight and a quarter minutes To comply with the shelter Requirements published in the Civil Defence Code - section Atomic Attack. A specially shortened Mass Will be broadcast at the end Of this announcement - Protestant and Jewish services Will begin simultaneously - Select your wavelength immediately According to instructions In the Defence Code. Do not Take well-loved pets (including birds) Into your shelter - they will consume Fresh air. Leave the old and bed- ridden, you can do nothing for them. Remember to press the sealing Switch when everyone is in The shelter. Set the radiation Aerial, turn on the geiger barometer. Turn off your Television now. Turn off your radio immediately The Services end. At the same time Secure explosion plugs in the ears Of each member of your family. Take Down your plasma flasks. Give your children The pills marked one and two In the C.D green container, then put Them to bed. Do not break The inside airlock seals until The radiation All Clear shows (Watch for the cuckoo in your perspex panel), or your District Touring Doctor rings your bell. If before this, your air becomes Exhousted or if any of your family In critically injured, administer The capsules marked 'Valley Forge' (Red Pocket in No. 1 Survival Kit) For painless death. (Catholics Will have been instructed by their priests What to do in this eventuality). This announcement is ending. Our President Has already given orders for Massive retaliation - it will be Decisive. Some of us may die. Remember, statistically It is not likely to be you. All flags are flying fully dressed On Government buildings - the sun is shining. Death is the least we have to fear. We are all in the hands of God, Whatever happens happens by His Will. Now go quickly to your shelters. -- Peter Porter

Yes, it's nuclear meltdown time here in Japan, and your favourite Japanese
poetry reviewer is glowing gently in the dark (in a most evocative shade of
green, let it be said) while he composes these lines.

Seriously, though, sometimes it seems that the only way to handle lunacy like
nuclear weaponry is to laugh at it. "Ours is a tragic age, so we refuse to take
it tragically" [1]. Stanley Kubrick had the right idea in Dr. Strangelove, and
indeed, today's poem shares much with that classic of black comedy - there's the
same curious mix of utter seriousness ('you can do nothing for them') and pure
farce ('Watch for the cuckoo in your perspex panel'). The announcer's calm, flat
tenor is perfectly captured in the precise (well, not that precise, to be
honest, but never mind) syllabics; at the same time there is  heavy irony in
phrases like 'the sun is shining' and 'Massive retaliation - it will be /
Decisive' - an irony so strong that it makes you wonder if the speaker grasps
the real truth of what he's saying.

For make no mistake - in its own way, 'Your Attention Please' is as savage an
indictment of the arms race as any hippie slogan or Green manifesto. It's closer
in spirit to Adrian Mitchell than Wilfred Owen, but the criticism is just as
harsh.

thomas.

[1] from Lady Chatterley's Lover.

PS. I forgot to mention: Quite apart from contextual irony, Porter makes the
telling point that modern-day warfare is a dehumanized, dehumanizing undertaking
- the mechanical tones reflect the impersonal nature of a conflict where
millions of lives can be sacrificed at the push of a button.

[Links]

For more on Peter Porter, read the commentary at poem #198
My favourite Porter poem is 'Instant Fish', which can be found at poem #64
My favourite protest poem is Adrian Mitchell's 'Nostalgia - Now Threepence Off',
which you can read at poem #95
One of the greatest anti-war poems of all time is Wilfred Owen's 'Dulce Et
Decorum Est', poem #132

Japanese Jokes -- Peter Porter

(Poem #198) Japanese Jokes In his winged collar he flew. The nation wanted peace. Our Perseus! William Blake, William Blake, William Blake, William Blake, say it and feel new! Love without sex is still the most efficient form of hell known to man. A professional is one who believes he has invented breathing. The Creation had to find room for the exper- imental novel. When daffodils be- gin to peer: watch out, para- noia's round the bend. I get out of bed and say goodbye to people I won't meet again. I sit and worry about money who very soon will have to die. I consider it my duty to be old hat so you can hate me. I am getting fat and unattractive but so much nicer to know. Somewhere at the heart of the universe sounds the true mystic note: Me. -- Peter Porter

(for Anthony Thwaite).

[ sage, scribe and scholar;
translator of numerous
    Japanese poems. ]

"... [Porter's] main subject is the decadence of commercial western society, to
the analysis of which he brings a jaundiced and witty eye...
... the gnomic humour of these tiny poems is dry and abrasive...
... sometimes Porter manages to synthesize his view of the entire Universe into
a single sentence that seems so 'right' that we feel sure it has been written
before... "
    -- George MacBeth

"Elegist, satirist, art critic, historian of the imagination, poet of cats, and
the cities of London and the mind, student of the times and of Time."
    -- Sean O'Brien, Sunday Times.

    I can add nothing
to Porter's elegance, so
    I stop here - thomas.

Instant Fish -- Peter Porter

(Poem #64) Instant Fish Instant Fish by Phidias! Add water and they swim. -- Peter Porter

Note: Phidias was a Greek sculptor whose statues were so realistic that
they seemed to be alive.

Porter's take on Phidias is amazingly self-referential; like the fish
being described, the poem expands and takes on layers of meaning in the
mind of the reader. In just 9 short words, Porter manages to invoke the
ideas of life as art and art as life, the meaning of representation, the
role of the viewer, even the effects of time...

(Lest anyone think that I'm reading too much into what is actually a
piece of nonsense, let me add that I thought of many of the above issues
when I first read that poem; later (much later), I read a book of
criticism which had Porter say the same things about this poem. So
there. <g>)

thomas.