So Much for Posterity - Oct 26 2023

 

So Much for Posterity

Oct 26 2023



The dust jackets and posters

still have the old photograph.

Even the article

the nice reporter wrote

showed me as I was,

the young man

who took himself too seriously

and was out to change the world.

The studied pose

unflinching eyes.

The hair

which now, I can only envy

so artfully dishevelled.

Not to mention the beard,

patchy

and barely post-pubescent.

And, of course, the jacket

with leather elbow patches

I thought was professorial

but now just looks pretentious.

An immortal, it would appear

if you weren't keeping track.

Is it that no one's paying attention

or too lazy to bother;

reusing what remains

of my brief flirtation

as the promising up-and-comer,

the next big thing?

Or is it outright deception;

a calculating publisher

who's concerned I might appear

over-the-hill

and out of touch?

What about respect for our elders

the sagacity of age?

Not these days

when we worship youth.

And anyway

I can't so much offer

wisdom and judgement

as cynical despair;

not after all those years

I watched the world change

and it was mostly for the worse.

A state of affairs

which would make escaping death

questionable, at best.

Forever young, yes,

but condemned

to immortality,

to of time

I cannot comprehend?

I wish they'd update the photo

and show me as I am.

Not only does it disrespect the readers

  —  at least the few I have left   —

it make me seem desperate;

an old man

in denial

and ageing gracelessly.

Who stands before a mirror

covered in mist

in softly dimmed light

a sees a young man looking back.

So much for posterity

and the power of words.

Old photographs

yellowing in a drawer,

or lost on the internet

down some rabbit hole.

And dog-eared paperbacks

on cheap acid paper,

recycled or trashed

before they start to smell.

I subscribe to Garrison Keillor's weekly column, and noticed that this postage stamp photo appears on top: in his prime, as if frozen in time. I suspect this is simply inertia and not some sort of denial or deception. And, of course, we all present to the world the most flattering version of ourselves.

Time is inexorable. But in a photograph, we can stay young forever. And in this culture, that seems to be desirable. Even for a serious author, whom you'd think would find that the gravitas of age flatters him more.