That They Were -- A Meditation On Poetic Fullness II

---

---

It Was A Great Marvel That They Were In The Father Without Knowing

---

This is the continuation of my attempt at a sort of mystical/poetic rendition of Valentinus' Gnostic teachings. While the post itself does not teach Gnosticism, it tries only to express Harold Bloom's use of it in The Anxiety of Influence. Although, again, like I said in the first, the post is

not a review or analysis or explication of Bloom's theory.

---

Shall we get to it then!

---

darkness of darkness

After he knew that he had fallen, outwards and downwards, away from the Fullness he tried to remember what the Fullness had been.
He did remember, but found he was silent, and could not tell the others.
He wanted to tell them that she leapt farthest forward and fell into a passion apart from his embrace.
She was in great agony, and would have been swallowed up by the sweetness had she not reached a limit, and stopped.
But the passion went on without her, and passed beyond the limit.
Sometimes he thought he was about to speak but the silence continued.
He wanted to say "strengthless and female fruit".

In my last post Sophia's fall begun, and with it, even though indirectly, The Fall.

Our Poet as Poet, it should be noted, was the first to begin the fall. He had fallen, outwards and downwards, away from The Fullness, which is, for the Poet as Poet, the height of his ability; picture the gazebo where your thoughts are ordered by the nine muses, surrounded by the greenest verdure. But the Poet had fallen, and after he had fallen he tried to recall what the Fullness had been; he tried to remember the gazebo, the verdure, the unadulterated beauty and serenity of it, and even though it was very hard--and very painful, I presume, he did remember, but found he could not tell it to the others.

We should pause here to ponder, Who are the others?

I wouldn't pretend to know.

Does it mean that there are other fallen? Have they been in the Pleroma too? Or were they born fallen? Or, in accordance with Bloom's interpretation, are the others the audience? Which would imply, of course, that after the Fall, there is no more poetry, for, as Aldous Huxley puts it, the purpose of the artist is to put things across, but here's a fallen Poet, whose case is made worse by the fact that even though he can remember the verdure, and the haunting images, and the high metaphors, he cannot pass them across to the others. He has failed.

He wanted to tell them that she leapt farthest forward

But thankfully we have Valentinus to tell us what the Poet cannot. And apparently the Poet wanted to talk about a lady--by the name of Sophia. This is where intense Gnosticism comes into play. This is where the choice is made and the lines are blurred.

---

Art, Philosophy or Religion?

---

Like I said before, Sophia's Fall, and Valentinus' passage in general, can be read in different ways. An artistic reading, such as that of Bloom's, is what I hope to achieve. But the latent mystic and philosopher in me would not allow that. The artistic reading is of course mostly, if not entirely, independent of the religious reading. The religious and the philosophical, however, are indistinguishable.

fell into a passion apart from his embrace.

The poet is jealous. How sweet. The poet has fallen. Sophia, too, has fallen. But which came first? It is obvious one is the cause of the other. Did Sofia's fall cause him to fall? Or was it his fall that led to Sophia's fall. The answer, of course, can be found with a bit of research into Gnosticism. But to ignore the mystic and indulge the artist, we will proceed as though the question does not matter. Because for the artist it does not!

She was in great agony, and would have been swallowed up by the sweetness had she not reached a limit, and stopped.

Sophia is in a sweetness, apart from the poet's embrace. But Sophia is also in agony. How can it be possible that Sophia;
Sophia, who is in a sweetness, is also in agony? Or is she?

There is, of course, a sort of agony which is sweet at the same time. This is the kind Sophia was in. And even though she was in agony, she obviously did not know it. She could only feel the sweetness at that moment, and was it not for the limit, she would have been swallowed up. But she reached a limit, and she stopped.

---

You have fallen into Art, return to life. -- William H. Gass

---

For the Poet as Poet, says Bloom, there is no limit. You will be swallowed up in the sweetness of agony. And, says Bloom, you should. But you should be able to re-emerge; whole like Sophia. But was Sophia whole?

the poet as poet

But the passion went on without her, and passed beyond the limit.

According to Gnostic texts, with Sophia's fall was born the DEMIURGE who in turn is responsible for our imperfect creation. The Demiurge is the product of that passion, of passing beyond the limit. Sophia's fall was not without consequence. And neither will the poet's.

Sometimes he thought he was about to speak but the silence continued.

The Poet's silence continues...