If a poem could so closely represent a painting, it would be this and The Starry Night. I can't tell if Anne wrote this as herself in a state of desperation and depression or as Van Gogh during his time of anguish, either way I seem to understand what she's trying to get out, though it's somewhat hidden. It took me a while.
Like anything, this poem has two sides. The poet uses harsh and aggressive words to describe her feelings yet what she is describing appears peaceful and quiet and beautiful. The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars… an old unseen serpent swallows up the stars; beautiful words just bursting with rage.
If you think about it, the painting is beautiful yet filled with anger and depression, which makes me wonder how different Anne and Van Gogh really are. Both are incredibly deep and they seem to think the same way. They recognize how stunning and dazzling the world is, the sound of the wind, the glow of the stars. Yet they want to leave and throw away their sadness and weight. So here I am thinking I completely understand.
However, because Van Gogh and Anne are both so thoughtful, it’s not that easy. Is it ever though? Their actual messages and intentions are so hidden they may be impossible to find.
And although I’ve come to realize that everything is never as it seems in literature and art; I find it doesn’t matter. The interpretations and conclusions I’ve come to are enough to help me in life. They’re enough to change the way I look at things.
I’ve never really appreciated art. I’ve looked at art through one eye; I’ve looked at it as a display. I can see through both eyes now and it’s been crazy awakening. Art means something. So thank you Van Gogh, thank you Anne Sexton. Thank you.
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