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Massimo Maggiari The Waters of Hermes: A Festival of Poetry and Hermetic Studies. Organizing the festival was a long, arduous process that took almost two years. But thanks to the contribution of colleague Lee Irwin we were able to add a philosophical-Hermetic component and the festival was reborn, like the mythical phoenix, from the ashes of the first edition. It was reborn with a new voice and new artistic forms and enriched with new themes of ancient thought. At the opening, the Jungian analyst William Willeford confirmed still another time, the link between the festival and the archetypal approach of analytical psychology. The poetic performance of Robert Bly opened a rich dialogue with the “mitomodernisti” Italian poets. They all agreed with the mythopoetic function of poetry and with its urgent need in the contemporary world. Following this important exchange were three brilliant lectures by scholars of Hermeticism of the Italian Renaissance – a rigorous excursion of the intellect which meshed the figure of Hermes Trimegistus, the universal genius of the Florentine philosopher Marsilio Ficino and the arcane fascination with Tarot cards. The endeavor was graced by the presence of the muse, Susan Hull, by the syncopated rhythms of the drums of Glen Velez and by the notes wafting from the cello of Eugene Friesen. To wrap up, we must not forget the poetic, ritualistic procession conceived and organized by dramatic maestro Angelo Tonelli and Lee Irwin. This costumed procession elicited the enthusiastic participation of the College of Charleston students and the academic community. Le acque di Ermes: un festival di poesia e studi ermetici. La preparazione del festival è stata lunga e laboriosa: di ben due anni. Ma grazie al contributo del collega Lee Irwin si è aggiunta una componente filosofico-ermetica e il festival è rinato, come la mitica fenice, dalle ceneri della sua prima edizione. E’ rinato in nuove voci e nuove forme artistiche. E’ rinato arricchito da nuove tematiche di pensiero dall’anima antica. In apertura, l’intervento dell’analista junghiano William Willeford ha confermato ancora una volta il punto di contatto con l’approccio archetipico della psicologia analitica. La performance poetica di Robert Bly ha invece aperto un dialogo fecondo con i poeti mitomodernisti italiani, in esso tutti concordano nella funzione mitopoietica della poesia e nella sua urgente attualità nel mondo contemporaneo. A questo importante scambio, si aggiungano le brillanti conferenze tenute dai tre studiosi dell’ermetismo italiano del Rinascimento, una rigorosa escursione dell’intelletto in cui si recuperano la figura di Ermes Trimegistus, il genio universale del filosofo fiorentino Marsilio Ficino e il fascino arcano dei tarocchi. Il tutto allietato dalla presenza musaica di Susan Hull e dai ritmi sciamanici scanditi dai tamburi di Glen Velez e dalle note insinuanti del violoncello di Eugene Friesen. In gran finale, non possiamo dimenticare la processione poetico-rituale organizzata e progettata dall’istrionico Angelo Tonelli e Lee Irwin e l’entusiasta partecipazione degli studenti e della comunità accademica. | |
| William Willeford HERMES AND THE HERMETIC TRADITION Whatever the enigmatic waters of Hermes may be, their god is himself sometimes notably fluid. Present in stone boundary markers, he is also known as their enemy, able to ignore, violate, and in effect dissolve them. His liquidity is especially evident in his incarnation as the alchemical Mercurius, who dissolves substances to the end of their transformation. The verbal communication the Greek god delights in is similarly ambiguous. Though Hermes fosters clear speech and direct statement, he is not bound to such propriety but is also the god of liars, thieves, and those simply given to verbal play. His water-like capacity to dissolve enriches us by helping to keep us aware of the overtones and background of what is being said. And so he animates and deepens conversation and poetic utterance. Similarly, he is the patron of travel and of the relationships created and maintained by it, and is hence also a patron of commerce. But in the words of the great poetic student of Greek mythology Karl Kerény, a collaborator of C.G. Jung, Hermes is less a traveler from one specific place to another than a journeyer, engrossed in the process of traveling and the adventure of exploration. From very early there was a Greek colony in Egypt, and various Greek thinkers traced the wisdom of Socrates and Plato and before them Pythagoras to Egyptian sources. Also from very early, Greeks recognized a kinship and even an identity between Hermes and the Egyptian god Thoth, connected like Hermes with speech and writing. When the goddess Isis was reuniting the scattered members of her slain husband Osiris, Thoth appeared in order to help with the task. And so, like Hermes who often facilitates and brings good luck, Thoth is integrative and creative. The relationship that came to obtain between the two gods was influenced by the view that all gods were really human heroes divinized after their deaths. Something partly the reverse happened in this case: as the god Hermes become Thoth, Hermes -- Thoth became a man, who, however, in time took on some of the qualities of a god. This Hermes - Hermes Trismegistus, Thrice - Great Hermes – became associated with various books of occult arts and sciences. And so began a tradition of hermetic lore that has thrived to the present day. Along the way this stream has been fed by other sources, such as the Jewish Kabbalah and German alchemical philosophy. And it has touched such figures as Dante, Shakespeare, Goethe, Hegel, Yeats and Jung. Despite their eminence, this tradition is not the mainstream. And though its contents are sometimes clear, the stream – as the word occult implies – tolerates obscurity, which can also, it is important to reflect, serve knowledge and beauty. I have mentioned Jung as a recent representative of the hermetic tradition, but for me an even better representative of the symbolic Hermes in his many-sidedness would be Jung’s student, colleague, and collaborator Jolande Jacobi. She was unusual among Jung’s early associates in being an extravert and thus thoroughly open to the forum where Hermes moves freely. Determined that Jungian psychology should gain a prominent place in the public domain, she supplied much of the enterprising spirit that led to the creation of the C.G. Jung Insitute in Zurich. And when public debate was called for, she was ready for it. Her apartment in Zurich, though, housed various baroque angels the size of human adults, seeming not so much art objects as inhabitants of an arcane world oddly looming in our midst. And among her publications is an anthology of the writings of Paracelsus. Though Paracelsus was a scientist in a way that made him a father of modern chemistry, his thinking was also highly esoteric. This strain came more from Northern Europe than from the more strictly hermetic tradition originating in Egypt, but a title page of one of his books bears the figure of Hermes Trismegistus as a spiritual ancestor. And so this diminutive Austro-Hungarian lady, amiably adroit in the marketplace, also had a sensitivity to the dark, ambiguous, and occult. And she would have been delighted to take part in a gathering of Italian poets and scholars of hermetic philosophy. | |
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scuotiti da cima a fondo, immensa chiavica umana, fatti colma di una purezza immacolata, nevica candore di rinascita, orma su orma di luce riscattata dalle tenebre. lìberati dal dominio dei tre dèmoni e del diodenaro, che ti involgono in una nube nera che degli uomini farà insetti nocivi: il re dei morbi è anche padrone dei comandi di questa biglia opaca, imbizzarrita che vertigina travolta dalla doxa miserabile dei pochi, che dei molti ha fatto nullità, carne da macina. solo una disciplina, un artificio sublime e innaturale – se natura è groviglio di passioni, ombra cieca – potrà guidarci oltre le acque fosche dell’ esistente, ricongiungerci con la Natura Vera, risplendente, solo un artificio perfetto, la misura del silenzio contemplante, oltre gli dei posticci partoriti dalla storia, nel divino assoluto, e questa lontananza sarà fonte di amore nuovo tra i viventi, di nuova vicinanza, acceso cuore. |
shake yourself out from top to bottom, huge human sewer, fill up with immaculate purity, snow down with the innocence of rebirth, footprint on footprint, of light redeemed from darkness. released from the rule of the three demons and of the money-god, who shroud you in a black cloud that will turn men into pests: the king of disease is also the master who controls this dull globe that spins giddily overwhelmed by the abject doxa of the few, who have made of the many a nonentity, meat for mincing. only a discipline, an artifice sublime and unnatural – if nature really is a tangle of passions, a blind shadow – will lead us across the gloomy waters of the existing, to rejoin the True Nature, resplendent, just a perfect artifice, a measure of silence gazing, beyond the fake gods delivered by history, into the divine absolute, and this remoteness will be a source of a new love among the living, of a new closeness, warm heart. |
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ifigenia, martiri cristiani, vittime del potere religioso aggiogato allo scranno dei tre demoni e del dio denaro, e voi tutti, vittime innocenti della peste che ammorba già il pianeta, figli traditi dalla storia, generati in speranza e feriti nella gioia, siate fonte per i vivi di rivolta pacifica e profonda, che rigeneri il pianeta appestato dal diobestia, il diopotere che farà latrina della terra, dell’ aria, del fuoco e dell’essenza trasparente dell’acqua, e il nostro sangue non è più sangue, e il sole scioglie i ghiacci e affogheremo come topi o arderemo come formiche sterminate dal mezzadro sbrigativo che chiamavamo sole, anch’esso artiglio adesso del diodenaro, schiavo del diopeste che ci disseccherà…ma forse è bene che l’umano si estingua: troppo indegni padroni del pianeta, il re che opprime e lo schiavo che accetta per timore, patiranno un unico supplizio insieme con i profeti non capaci di parole penetranti e veritiere. già si incrina l’asse del cosmo, si fa adamantina la luce un tempo fertile di vita, il cerchio di ignoranza stringe e stritola le menti ipnotizzate dai lustrini del mercato universale. sarà brina di fuoco o acqua accesa, sottile veleno inoculato nei polmoni o deflagrare di ghiacci? sarà esplosione o sussurro, bang o whisper ? sarà comunque, se non ti risvegli figlio dell’ adam kadmon, uomo – luce, e non trascini a te le mandrie cieche dei popoli, le congreghe spietate dei potenti, alla fonte del cristo e del buddha, voce nuova che accolga le ombre e le dissolva. La poesia muore alla profezia, il tempo chiama all’azione perfetta chi conosce le chiavi del presente e vede oltre. |
iphigenia, christian martyrs, victims of religious power yoked to the bench of the three demons and of the money-god, and you all, innocent victims of the plague that already fouls the planet, you children betrayed by history, born in hope and wounded in your joy, be for the living a source to feed a rebellion peaceful and aware, that will regenerate the planet, fouled by the beast-god, the power-god that will make a bog of earth, of air, of fire and of the essence transparent of the water, and our blood is not blood anymore, and the sun melts the glaciers and we’ll drown like rats, or burn like ants wiped out by the hasty farmer we used to call sun, he, too, now a claw of the money-god, a slave of the plague-god that will dry us out… but it may be good that humans become extinct: masters of the planet too undeserving, the king who oppresses and the slave who obliges out of fear, they both will suffer the very same torment along with the prophets incapable of words deep and true, already there’s a crack in the axis of the cosmos, the light, once fruitful of life, turns adamantine, tightening, the ring of ignorance crushes the minds mesmerised by the spangles of the universal market. will it be a frost of fire or lighted water, a subtle poison instilled into the lungs or deflagration of ice? will it be bang or whisper, esplosione o sussurro? it will be anyhow, unless you wake up child of the adam kadmon, man - light, unless you drag along with you the blind cattle of the peoples, the ruthless congregations of the powerful, to the spring of christ and buddha, a new voice that receives the shadows and dissolves them. Poetry dies to prophecy, the time calls to the perfect action him who knows the keys to the present and can see beyond. |
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non c’ è scampo: nuova nascita o fine per gli umani, cuore in trono o pestilenza muta: un dio-corvo decapita bambini, ruba palpebre ai vegliardi, agli altri spezza arti. Fatti viva parola che rinnova, vola rapida agli orecchi dei viventi, annuncia la trinità veniente: cristo-amore buddha-conoscenza, lux che accoglie e dissolve le ombre, fatti viva e fai vivi i viventi, annuncia il fuoco che cancella il dominio dei tre dèmoni e dona agli umani sguardo alto. |
no way out: a new birth or end of humans, heart on a throne or silent plague: a raven-god beheads the children, steals eyelids from old men, breaks the limbs of the others. Come alive you, the word of change, fly fast to the ears of the living, announce the coming trinity: christ-love buddha-knowledge, light that welcomes the shadows and dissolves them, come alive and bring life to the living, announce the fire that wipes out the rule of the three demons and give humans a proud look. |
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L’appeso o Angelo del Mare, trasparente signore degli abissi, tu che vegli l’equilibrio delle acque, tu che intendi quale forza segreta muova onde e maree, tu che conosci l’invisibile corrente circolante tra anemoni e coralli e sfiori il dorso lucente dei delfini e delle mormore o angelo di vita, quando il vento si placa e tace il mare e la mia mente comincia a dileguare nell’infinito, se conoscere è lecito e sentire e nominare un Angelo in presenza, reggi il ritmo dei miei umani giorni, fammi entrare nel cuore della vita a onde lunghe e lente quali lambiscono la riva di sabbia e pietre, un ondeggiare calmo e potente, dal centro del mio essere al centro dell’amore, che gli dei conoscono e distillano irradiando luce su luce d’ombra dai golfi non visibili che scindono onda da onda e in questo separare congiungono me con me , mare con mare |
The Hanged Man O Angel of the Sea, transparent lord of depths you who oversees the harmony of the waters you who knows what hidden force moves wave and tide, you who understands the invisible current swirling through the anemones and coral, brushing the bright spines of breams and dolphins, o angel of life, when the wind calms and the sea stills and my mind begins to disperse into the infinite, if it be permitted to know, feel and call by name an Angel in his presence, sustain the rhythm of my human days, make me flow into the heart of life in long and slow waves like those that lick the sandy and rocky shore, a to and fro calm and strong, from my being’s center to the center of Love that the gods comprehend and distill, shedding rays of light on the shades of light from non-visible gulfs that cleave wave from wave, and through this split joins me to me, sea to sea. |
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