Lucky Words

This is the third episode about Wordsworth's "Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood." If you're just joining us, start at episode 131, where the poem actually begins.

We are at the good part of the poem. The first few lines of the fifth section are the most famous of the poem. They are lines I have heard quoted over pulpits all my life, but as you'll hear, I don't think Wordsworth would have liked the interpretation that's often given there. Good thing he's not around to get all snooty about it.

May is a crazy month. When I recorded this, the weather was sunny and warm and beautiful. As I edit this, it is overcast and cold and in the 40s. It snowed yesterday! It'll be beautiful again in a day or so, I'm sure.

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Recorded while I was fishing (or maybe just casting, since I didn't catch any fish) and sat down to record this. Happy program note: all the background bird sounds were just recorded with my one single mic right there when they show up in the recording. I don't know how to add things in post (I'm not exactly sure I'm using the phrase "in post" correctly); it's all just serendipity. And who doesn't love serendipity?

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The first of five or six episodes on this poem, so we can spend a little time discussing it one stanza at a time. At the end, I'll read the whole thing straight through, and it'll mean a lot more to you then (I hope).

**CRITICAL NOTE**: I do not know what my mouth was doing when I say the title of this poem. It is called "Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood." You know and I know that the second word is "intimations" and **not** "imitations." And yet, somehow I said "imitations" twice. I am so embarrassed. But I am also no longer sitting by the Provo river and can't correct my embarrassing mistake. Forgive me, friend.

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Recorded by the Diamond Fork River, but there was a bunch of obnoxious wind that sometimes you'll hear with lousy noise. Endure through it and you'll learn about a great poem by Walt Whitman. It's about death, but listen anyway. Would you be interested in supporting this podcast? I would be interested in receiving your support. Visit https://www.patreon.com/jeffreywindsor for details and rewards.

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Recorded in my father's-in-law truck on a dirt road between Spanish Fork and Springville, on my way to Hobble Creek. It was raining, and I decided to turn around, but the road was deserted so I just stopped right there and recorded this episode. I didn't mention in the recording that this poem is a villanelle, which is a quirky little form that requires a lot of planning on the poet's part. The repeated lines that echo and then repeat in the final stanza? That's the villanelle at work. There's usually something kind of audacious about a villanelle, but this poem pulls it off so effectively, it is as if the entire form were created just for this one use, right here.

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These two poems are favorites of mine (aren't they all?), and I love the way the comment on each other. I discussed mostly how Wendell Berry's poem seems to be deeply antisocial but, upon some reflection, really isn't. But there's a lot more to say than just this. Check the show notes or the website for some more thought-provoking questions.

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Recorded in my secret grading-fishing spot (hint: it's south of Provo) because it's beautiful and secluded and quiet and I can change out of my pants and into my waders by the side of the road and never worry about anyone driving by and seeing me pantsless.

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Recorded on a quiet, little used trail while I sat down to eat something and rest a while. Actually, even though the trail had very few human tracks, and though I thought I was leaving the trail to a place of untouched solitude, I found a bunch of garbage within a single pace of where I sat. There's nothing that says "I'm in the authentic backcountry" like sunbleached beer cans and balls of aluminum foil and brittle plastic wrappers.

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Recorded at night, while camping in southern Utah, under a clear, dark sky of a million million stars. I love camping, but I love it more when I've got Kate with me.

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Recorded a couple of days ago after finishing a couple of slot canyons called Ding and Dang. They're outside Goblin Valley. They're not difficult, I think rated just 2BII, but having a handicapped twenty-something man in our party made it into a much more intense adventure. It was, in fact, one of the greatest things I feel I have ever done outside. What a great day. And so I'm going to read a great poem, too.

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