Time, we might consider as something we cannot grasp,
something that goes away with a blink of an eye. But there are also ways to
capture time, to stop it, and cherish it. Yes, memory is also a weak form of
confining time but there are also other ways to seize it in its spectrum. Art,
a very strong way to capture time and stop it. There are different types of art
and every artist has his their way of interest. Some likes to pour out their
momentary emotions on the medium and some tend to create to escape their
feelings. Every form of art is valid as long as it holds its originality. The
“Gracian Urn” is one of them.
The outstanding thing about romantic poets is that they
tend to show us ordinary things in an extraordinary way. The ideas we
experience every day without paying much heed, they explained them in a deeper,
thoughtful way. John Keats was among those people. John Keats, who was famous
for his romantics' work and a dejected fate, wrote this poem named “Ode on a
Gracian Urn”. At the beginning of the poem, the poet sees some images, and
numerous questions are nagging him related to that piece of art. This urn has
been here for a very long time and now in the present moment, he is observing
it. The poet's questions could not be answered. These images are not telling
their whole story, these are just moments secured on the urn forever.
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The word Grecian itself means a form of art used to portray
something or someone. He asks the urn
that what stories it hides behind these images. There are musicians playing
instruments and men trying to pursuit maidens. These seem allusion to some
Greek stories.
Then he saw a picture of two lovers sitting under a tree
and the boy has a pipe for singing to his lover. Now paradoxically, he is
saying that the unheard music played by the piper is sweeter than the one
heard. It can be interpreted in this way that the unheard music was played only
for his beloved, only she was able to listen to it. We might see them both but
we cannot tell their feelings at that moment and yet that moment is captured
here for eternity on this urn. Those lovers are long gone but their intensity
of love can still be felt. Humans are mortal, everything decays with time but
art is the only thing that still stays, seizing time. The tree in the image
also supports this point when Keats says:
“Ah,
happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your
leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;”
Then,
moving on, he sees an image of people on their way to sacrifice a cow. He
wonders that where they might be heading along with their priest. He wants to
know from which town they left and where are they going. He says that wherever
they came from, must be very quiet now as they are here in the moment frozen.
Although
they are timelessly present in the image, they are bound from moving forward or
continue what they are doing. This poem is a perfect example of time being a
merciless demolisher and time being the only thing that can be frozen.
The poem is interpreted by Hafsah Afridi, one of the contributors to the SOL Community.
