Cinema Sonnets # 5 - Cosmos, featuring Jeffrey Salem

Three sonnets diving into Żuławski's cryptic final film

This is the fifth installment of Cinema Sonnets: a series where I ask fellow substack poets to pick a film, which we will both subsequently watch, meditate on, and use as inspiration for poetry.

For this episode I’ve asked

Jeffrey Salem

from

Starving Lovers

to pick a film for us to use as inspiration for poetry.

Here’s how it works:

• We will both watch a film (of Jeffrey’s choosing)

• Individually create a sonnet after watching

• Share our sonnets with each other

• And lastly, collaborate on a final sonnet — dividing the task of writing the two quatrains and the two tercets respectivally.

The goal of this experiment is to share a great cinematic experience, use cinema as a meditative tool for creating poetry, and also to collaborate —working on a poem together as well as separately, starting from the same base-concept.

Cosmos

The movie Jeffrey chose was Cosmos — the fourteenth and final feature film by polish director Andrzej Żuławski from 2015.

Where to start with this one?

Cosmos is based on the 1965 novel of the same name by Witold Gombrowicz. It is a hypnotic and surreal cinematic experience. Everything in the film is presented in a manner that’s slightly off. This is brilliantly depicted by the actors which all in some way showcase exuberant behaviour. Simply put it is a film that can’t be described as normal or conventional for even a second.

The movie is about a young writer who visits a french guest house, accompanied by a friend. While working on his novel he becomes increasingly intrigued and also horrified by mysterious events occuring around the house as well as the people who live there.

The main character Witold excessively quotes writers such as Sartre and becomes increasingly obsessed and consumed by his writing. The film feels like it’s spiraling out of control continuously until it finally arrives at an apt conclusion: nothing.

It is a deeply poetical, challenging and surreal piece of cinema: equal parts frustrating and fascinating. Cosmos for sure isn’t a film for everyone but to those who’re curious and brave enough to face its cynical views on existence, there is quite a lot to discover in this picture.

Read me and Jeffrey’s attempts at adapting this cryptic film into sonnets below

First Cosmos Sonnet

Into The Void
by Rasmus Rosenkrantz

A straight mind tormented by crooked lips.
A hollow heart frightened by perfect bliss.
The endless void of deceptive loving,
blinding wicked eyes to the soul’s longing.

Ancient voices penetrating stone walls;
a pursuit of words that'll absolve the mist,
fragments of clarity in the abyss —
Repressed feelings won't permeate lost calls.

The waters of the sea produce child like
memories corrupting mature beliefs—
divine elusions, the seeds of mankind.

Here on earth we are content with nothing:
 buried in the cosmos, our love’s floating
 into the still void of senseless dreaming.

Second Cosmos Sonnet

Sartre in a bowl of peas
by Jeffrey Salem

I suppose it could be all some sort of joke—
Putting the horse, behind the cart
Placing the rake, just so among vines.

More frightful, it could rather be a stroke—
Introducing Tolstoy, before Sartre—
Dropping a bowl of peas after drinking wine.

But even as my laughter rings aloud,
Defending me from meaninglessness and fear,
Do I almost understand the cosmos?

The stage is stripped, the actors have all bowed,
oh dear.

Third Cosmos Sonnet

Sparrow of The Dark Night
by Rasmus Rosenkrantz (1st & 2nd stanza)
& Jeffrey Salem (3rd & 4th stanza)

Hanging from a thin string, this curved sparrow
levitating in the transfigured night.
Words that illuminate corpses’ shadow—
convictions failing to unveil the light.

Nearing is the hour of the moon’s eclipse —
when our sins will send a ripple through time,
travelling across the sunken abyss —
where shared history shall transcend all crime.

But; that sparrow hanging on a string
may still be able to wind up this world's spring.
Our words — our lights —our beacons in the dark—

might only be the calling of a lark.
Convictions may migrate away too soon
before the finished darkening of the moon.

Final Reflections

Jeffrey:

First of all, a big thank you to Rasmus. In all honesty, I'd been watching the Cinema Sonnets series closely, and hoping I would be asked to participate. The experience lived up to my expectations.

Why choose a movie like Cosmos?

The answer is simple: I really enjoy this movie, even though I think it defies enjoyment. I do not mean that I have an intellectual understanding of the movie. I cannot say something like, “While it may be lost on the average movie goer, the film pulls off such and such thing which will appeal to the sagacious viewer.” Whatever it is that this film accomplishes, it's lost on me too, but I still really like watching it.

The first time I saw it, I recall thinking of it as essentially a thriller. The second time, I realized I was mistaken, and the film was really a comedy satirizing a thriller. This time, I really couldn't tell you what kind of film it is.

Why choose a curtal sonnet?

The curtal sonnet is the invention of Gerard Manley Hopkins, a poet very dear to me. I was very excited to have an opportunity to bring Hopkins into this project, and also to contribute in a way that would be unique to me.

Who knows, maybe some other writers will decide on using curtal sonnets for future collaborations in the series. Or perhaps someone will look into the cuadate sonnet, also used by Hopkins.

Why choose the division of labor for the collaborative sonnet?

It is my personal experience that the most powerful element of a sonnet, is the volta, or the sudden twist. In most sonnets this occurs at line nine. Whatever theme has been given in the first eight lines, must now be questioned. Perhaps the theme will withstand the questioning, or perhaps not, but either way, the poem is plunged into a new depth.

And so I thought, what would happen if one of us writes the first eight lines, the theme, and then the other writes the final six, to twist that theme, and see if it can endure questioning.

It seems to me that their may be room for a whole genre of sonnets written in such a way between two writers, as a sort of poetic tennis.

I hope readers of this post, and of our sonnets, will have as wonderful of an experience as I have had working on this project.

Rasmus:

A slightly different episode

Jeffrey brought a lot to the table for this episode of Cinema Sonnets.

First and foremost the film: an absolutely original and puzzling work of art that brought out some deep and challenging themes in the writing of us both.

The second innovation Jeffrey brought was using a previously never utilized (in these collaborations) sonnet form for his individual sonnet: The curtal sonnet. I really welcomed the variety and it was nice to discover and feature a new form to this series.

The third and final unique change Jeffrey proposed was in relation to the collaborative sonnet. Instead of dividing a quatrain and a tercet each, Jeffrey proposed to divide the tasks of writing both quatrains and tercets respectively. The result brought a complete and apparent change of voice that I think worked really well.

Creating sonnets for Cosmos sure wasn't easy but I personally really enjoyed the poetic voice that came from exploring its themes and also it introduced me to Zulawski as a director, whose work I am keen to explore further.

A big thank you to

Jeffrey Salem

for participating and dedicating so much energy into making this episode of Cinema Sonnets special!

I hope you enjoy our three sonnets!