Departure[s]

The other day, I discovered an alarming possibility. No, worse: an alarming fact.
I have an old friend, a consultant radiologist, who for years has been sending me clippings from the British Medical Journal. She knows that my interest tends towards the ghoulish and the extreme. In my memory – that place where degradation and embellishment overlap – I have filed away cases of patients who exploded when a heated scalpel ignited their bodily gases, and others from the early days of the MRI scanner when internal metal stitches were shot like shrapnel into soft flesh. These stories are sometimes accompanied by photos: for instance, of a man who grew his toenails to such a curling length - several metres, as I recall - that for years he had been unable to walk. Then there is the medical profession’s everyday task of removing unexpected objects which have been swallowed – like bags of nails - or forcibly indulged up the rectum. (In the old days, popular anal self-implants were miniature busts of Napoleon, a habit which doubtless added patriotism to pleasure.) And a case I particularly remember, of a man who had been fitted with a tracheostomy tube. When he went for a check-up, doctors were baffled by yellowish stains around the hole into which the tube was fixed. It turned out that the patient was a desperate smoker who, unable to inhale through his mouth any more, discovered that if he took out his tube, the cigarette fitted perfectly in the hole; all he had to do was light up and inflate his lungs. Men (and most of these bizarre activities were undertaken by men) can be most ingenious, even - or especially - when it goes against their own best interests.
From the archives
·
1927
Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep
do not stand at my grave and weep
i am not there. i do not sleep.
i am a thousand winds that blow
i am the diamond glints on snow.
i am the sunlight on ripened grain
i am the gentle autumn rain.
when you awaken in the morning's bush,
i am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
i am the soft stars that shine at night.
do not stand at my grave and cry,
i am not there; i did not die.

Read more of this excerpt...

Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep

do not stand at my grave and weep
i am not there. i do not sleep.
i am a thousand winds that blow
i am the diamond glints on snow.
i am the sunlight on ripened grain
i am the gentle autumn rain.
when you awaken in the morning's bush,
i am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
i am the soft stars that shine at night.
do not stand at my grave and cry,
i am not there; i did not die.

Read more of this excerpt...

WORDS TO LIVE BY

“We imagined ourselves as being kept in some kind of holding pen, waiting to be released into our lives. And when that moment came, our lives – and time itself – would speed up. How were we to know that our lives had in any case begun, that some advantage had already been gained, some damage already inflicted?”

2011 ·
The Sense of An Ending
Julian Barnes
NEW MUSIC

