Postcard From a Pandemic (With Apologies to Wallace Stevens)

Children visiting our bones
Will know that they were once
Nimble, motivated to movement

But in that fateful spring, fast with life
Had clustered in dull arrangement
Lessened to mere being, in place

And know that left with our bones
Was little more than what was
Felt and seen not by them, but by

Fractious, craven minions of an
Ignorance inaugurated in a world
Beyond our doors under beclouded skies

We knew full well the world that was
Once not merely known but grasped
By spirit and skin, but made an image

Empty of us, watched beyond barren walls
By shadows stretched by no sun
Spiritless and broken, left alone by all else


This is my creation, obviously derived from Postcard from a Volcano, a poem written by Wallace Stevens, that other lawyer who was a poet. Of course I'm being silly. I'm no poet though he certainly was a great one. But it seems adequate and to my purpose, which is to shamelessly borrow from him a theme, to the extent I can recognize it. His poem depicted the aftermath of what is ostensibly a natural disaster, presumably the eruption of a volcano, and children of the future viewing some of the remains of what had been destroyed; the bones of those disaster struck.

It's more than likely, of course, that Stevens wasn't writing about what seems to be written about. Perhaps he was inspired by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 C.E. or A.D. and the fascinating, uncovered, ruins of the cities it destroyed, Pompeii and Herculaneum. I found the ruins of Pompeii fascinating in a kind of macabre way when I visited them, even marred as they were by the placement of some huge, vaguely ancient looking sculpture and other objects created by some artist which were strewn, thoughtlessly I think, about the forum. Stevens may have had some cultural or societal disaster in mind, resulting from some cultural or societal deficiency.

Now we have our own disaster to cope with, and can if we wish use it as a metaphor, and I suppose I am in one way. But there's a sense of the unreal about it if the conduct of our fellows is any guide. We don't seem to take it all that seriously. Perhaps here in God's favorite country that's a result of the fact that we're presided over by a self-pitying, scapegoating narcissist. Perhaps we have the president we deserve, being for the most part self-pitying, scapegoating and self-involved ourselves.

Unreal, as well, as we're required to isolate ourselves from the real--that is to say, the rest of the world. But we now do that even in normal circumstances in the sense that we no longer experience it directly, or would rather not do so. No, I'm not referring to that peculiar philosophical doctrine that we never experience the rest of the world, only sense data, or the Kantian assumption that there is some unknowable "thing in itself" lurking behind every perceived rock and tree. Instead, I'm referring to the fact that most of the world is experienced by us in these times through some device like a smartphone, or PC or tablet, TV, etc.

In a way we do now in isolation what we would do in any case. Pestilence is pictured above as one of the infamous four horseman. The current pestilence is pictured by most of us as well, through various media. It won't become a part of our lives we take seriously until we or those we huddle with or think of while we huddle become its victims.

Doomed To Repeat It

I wonder whether the interesting mask and attire shown above would suffice to protect us in this time of COVID 19.  I suspect it would serve as well as, or perhaps slightly less well, than what we must  now resort to in our efforts to "flatten the curve."

This remarkable outfit was apparently invented by a French doctor sometime in the 17th century, to be worn by doctors who, as public servants, sought to treat victims of the plague(s) of that time.  Imagine if you can, my fellow Americans, doctors providing health services at public expense!  It's no wonder so many died back then, taking assistance from public health care providers whose very existence was, and is, an abomination in the eyes of our righteous, and insistently capitalistic, Lord.

If not sinful in the eyes of God, this outfit, complete with aromatic herbs and spices kept in the beak of the doctor-bird, was probably not all that useful one would think.  But given what's taking place now, just why would one think that?  In the past it was thought that epidemics were caused by "bad air" (miasma).  Now of course, we don't believe bad air is the culprit.  Instead we think that the air is bad or potentially bad because it is rife with bacteria or some microscopic things which are generated by a coughing or sneezing victim of the virus, or a victim who, curiously, does not cough or sneeze or display any symptoms associated with our modern plague.  Which, when you think of it, makes such air....bad.

I'm uncertain how porous the amusing bird masks were, but it occurs to me that such doctors, well-covered by the hat and long robe or coat and carrying a cane or stick by which they examined plague victims, were doing much the same as what we're doing now.  That is to say, covering themselves to prevent contact with bad air whether in the form of a miasma or as a conveyance of the invisible (to what we call "the naked eye") virus.  I am curious why a bird mask was used, however.  I think an elephant mask would have worked as well, and been even more charming.

Now we're told we should wear masks of a much less interesting sort, but we have much fewer than we need.  So, we do what that French doctor did, and dream up some substitutes for them, made of cloth, or use bandanas and scarves, while waiting for supplies of the appropriate mask to be made or while we accept the charity of other nations such as Russia or China to obtain them, or for which we pay them.

It's said our Glorious Republic is the most favored nation in the world, but we must go begging for masks we don't have from old, and probably current, enemies.  As they say:  "How the mighty have fallen."  Perhaps other nations will form something like the Peace Corps and help the poor, suffering people of the U.S.A.  Mothers will tell children they should eat well and be healthy, and cite the example of the poor children in America.

How different are we from those who faced epidemics centuries ago? Our religious leaders (those in the U.S.) declare that God will protect us, as long as we keep coming to church or prayer meetings despite warnings.  Our president keeps referring to miracle drugs of one kind or another and makes unsubstantiated predictions, flaunting his ignorance.  A train engineer in California drove his train off the tracks rather than have its cargo delivered to a hospital ship because he thought the ship somehow part of a conspiracy regarding the virus.  Gun sales have soared.  We're no more enlightened now than we were then.  In response to fear we become the desperate primitives we were.

Welcome to the past we're doomed to repeat.