Academic journal article Chicago Review

The Magic Flute

Academic journal article Chicago Review

The Magic Flute

Article excerpt

Following his song's lead, each held stop speaks, past the lightness of speech, the need - all that song lacks and seeks,

slackening its soft cries through the black trees where the black velvet table lies - ripe fruit, the blaze of ease

on silver bowls and plates - want's clean, cold glow - while Papageno contemplates his master's law, to know

how not to eat the fruit or drink the wine. With his cage of reeds and new flute flung with his fine light chain

of bells over his arm - magic, the full song of the bird-catcher - no harm, no pentateuchal purr, pull

of night or night's sightless adamantine center will leave him any less free from this pain, the shine

of light through the film's frames, the theatre of faces silver, all time's aims seared through like fear with care,

like the song of Daphnis, the Great Shepherd, lost in his high noontime likeness, caught, with each chord, each word,

freely in love's low door. Intensely white - her hand lightly in his before Death's Angel's late, long flight -

the trans figuring wing touches the couple. …

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