CZESLAW MILOSZ
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world of nature ; maybe it is a heresy to say such a thing in America.
RB:
Not in Poland?
eM:
Nature in Europe lost the romantic appeal it had in the begin–
ning of the nineteenth century. Mother Nature is not very kind. One
of the writers whom I like and with whom I feel a certain affinity is
Isaac Bashevis Singer. He is in a constant rebellion against God
because of suffering- suffering of animals and human beings. I see
Nature as a constant reminder of immutable laws of suffering and
devouring- animals devouring animals. I keep a kind of a grudge
towards Nature because everything in it which is akin to cruelty and
harshness we see in the human world. This is extremely appalling to
me . There is some hope of course that human beings might be
kinder to each other than animals are, but it is a vain hope. In many
cases human beings are worse, much worse .
RB:
You think then of Nature in terms of animals rather than trees
and mountains .
eM:
It is very hard to think of Nature in terms of beauty alone.
Nature has an enormous beauty, and I am very sensitive to it . But
there is a sort of a monotony, a repetition of patterns in Nature, as
opposed to the great variety of the human world which is constantly
kaleidoscopically changing.
RB:
In your poem "Poet at Seventy" you say that your happiness is
to be alive. What accounts for that?
eM:
That is a very Faustian poem about constant youth. Until now
I have been very young in spite of my age, sort of wandering and
wondering.
RB:
In that same poem you say that you feel sorrow that your life is
closing. Do you grieve your death?
eM:
There is a fear of death I guess . When you are young you may
be more fearful of death than when you are in advanced age, but un–
doubtedly there is a certain amount of grief when you are in ad–
vanced age because you are accustomed to look forward, to plan for
the future, and you realize that you have little time - many plans
will probably have to be suspended, though of cOurse we never know
the day or hour of our death.
RB:
In "Poet at Seventy" you also say : "and
all
your wisdom came to
nothing," and then you say that you are making order to oppose
nothingness .
It
is an interesting contradiction .
eM:
I don't know if this is a contradiction because form is a constant
struggle against chaos and nothingness . Had I had wisdom I
