[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Hilary—

I really like this piece. Sorry to be late to the party, but I wasn’t sure if my reading was on track. I read it as a poem about imagination, and the difficulty of turning what we imagine into art in the mundane world of money, chores, and real problems. Jack has returned from an exciting creative adventure. He has brought back a hen that lays golden eggs, so his mom has forgiven him for indulging his flights of fancy since he is able to make a living from it, but the harp that sang so beautifully in his imagination is spoiled in the real world. Jack wants others to hear the beauty of the song.

Fine work!

Glenn

[Jan Iwaszkiewicz]

Brain fade Hilary ignore my comment sorry.

Jan

[Hilary Biehl]

Richard, James, Julie, Glenn, and Jan,

Thank you all. I have changed the comma in S1L1 to a dash as suggested. “Somehow” is going to stay – I’m glad to know it’s working for most of you, as I also felt that the vagueness was appropriate there.

I think I am going to keep “glow” for the oven. I’m not sure about warmth/chill for the pantry. I will live with both possibilities for a bit.

Glenn, one of the things I like about fairy tales is their adaptability, their many potential meanings. Your interpretation of the poem is definitely in there, though I would say it’s not the only reading. This part - “his mom has forgiven him for indulging his flights of fancy since he is able to make a living from it” - is spot on and made me laugh.

Jan, no worries at all, I appreciate your comment so please don’t apologize.

[Mark McDonnell]

This beautifully evokes the inexpressible, nagging feeling that something is missing from life. I think of astronauts returning to earth or the world after an hallucinogenic drug wears off. A fallen world after a glimpse of something grander. There's a haunting profundity here, and yet the poem achieves its effects with deceptive simplicity of language and tone.

I really like this, Hilary, and I don't think I would change anything.

[Hilary Biehl]

Thank you, Mark.

[Alex Pepple]

Hello, Hilary,

Good revision! I'll also add that 'somehow' has grown on me. Still, there's an ambiguity in the 'it' in "Jack’s head / ached now in the light, but hadn’t it been / much brighter up there in the windswept house?" As in, does it refer to his head or to the general condition? One possible fix might to clear 'it' up might be:

Jack’s head
ached now in the light, but hadn’t it been
fine up in that brighter, windswept house?

I think it's almost there, Hilary!

Cheers,
...Alex

[David Callin]

I think this is great, Hilary. I don't think further comment is necessary.

Cheers

David

[Hilary Biehl]

Alex, thanks for coming back. I see what you mean about the grammatical ambiguity of “it”. I meant to refer to the general condition, but if someone reads it as Jack’s head being brighter in the giant’s house, that is a misreading I am actually fine with. Glad to know that “somehow” has grown on you.

And David, thank you.

[Jim Moonan]

.
Mark spoke for me in #14.

I would like to mention how fluidly this is told. From the opening "drop-in" to the ground, to the final sense of disembodiment in the last stanza. And the internal rhymes are flying everywhere.

I've seen a number of children's tales retold here but don't ever recall any that gave back what this one does in its telling. Like you, I was always puzzled by the story. By the incongruence of it all. You've added a light to it that allows me to bond with Jack.

Beautiful work.

.

[Hilary Biehl]

Thank you, Jim. That's good to hear.