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PART ISAN REVIEW
Milosz as a man rarely presents himse lf. He revea ls hi s peculiari ty and
ri chness in the process of getting to know, of " rescuing," the world. When
he cannot handl e its exuberance and compl exity, he creates alter egos. Hi s
poetry repea ts reali ty and thereby strengthens th e world and being. A
poet's " I" is only as important or as essential as he ca n manage in hi s work.
H e can focus o n himself, but only to the degree that he puts hi s insight to
use; inner feelings, psychological self-a nalyses, tas tes and pl easures exist pri–
marily
to
that end . Time, th e enem y o f man , uses up and somehow
undennines being and forces the arti st o r poet to reac tive lingui stic for–
mulations, whi ch th emselves are already a " repetiti on" o f th e world. Thi s
is why Mil osz constantl y returns to hi s own pas t, as tounded by what he has
experi enced, and attempts to understand , to pi umb, and
to
refresh . N othing
has been experienced and desc ribed once and fo r all. T he present does not
cease transforming and impove ri shing th e transformati on .
Mil osz insists on returnin g to criti cal moments in hi s life and thereby
confesses or strength ens himself lyri call y. But hi s Ii terary wandering in hi s
past does not aim to unveil secrets or idi osyncrac ies of hi s " \." Instead, hi s
human tra its and skills all ow him to grasp and understand the wo rld in
whi ch he lives. O f course, he is obsessed with returning to a few dozen
places, peopl e, and incidents- to motifs th at appea red in hi s ea rly poetry.
Thi s is not because th ey tes ti fY to hi s sensitivi ty, but beca use he canno t get
at the truth. And he
l/1ust
get at and desc ribe or present it.
These forays into th e pas t cheer and comfort the poet. And getting to
know the unknown brings him joy. T hi s accounts fo r the inclinati o n to
repeat in a way that compl etes, enri ches, and unveils w hat is hidden or
inexpressibl e. Wilno, the city of Mil osz's youth , for exampl e, is conceived
of lyri cally, in a seri es of fl ashbac ks that summari ze its essence. It has fa ll–
en into timelessness and immobili ty because, in memo ry, peopl e, buildings,
and landscapes can exist simultaneously. After thi s qu asi-epiphany comes a
text in prose,
A Dictionary of Wi/no Streets.
Th e poe t wa lks hi s memory
along th e city and matter-of-factly describes, o ne after another, the more
important stores, houses, and churches. Imperceptibly he ass umes the per–
spective o f a maturin g boy: from boa ts and stores he passes to Wilno's
ethni c, lingui sti c, and reli gio us wonders. T hus he moves from dictio nary
into storytel ling. But Mil osz's Wilno was Po li sh; today it is Lithuani an
Vilnius. He sea rches for a language capable of speaking about Vilnius's mi s–
fortunes with out hatred . In a letter to Venclova, nego ti ating a kind of
" truth about Vilnius," he moves fi'om the persuas ive mode into th e e1 ega–
ic. These exoti c matters illustrate Mil osz's literary strategy. He molds the
substance of hi s poems fr om hi s life, not just its auspi cious moments, but,
insofar as possible, its entirety. Hence the th ought abo ut
apokatastasis-th e
renewal whi ch so fasc in ated him in the seven ti es and to w hi ch he remains
