{"id":6246,"date":"2018-08-30T06:40:36","date_gmt":"2018-08-30T13:40:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/?p=6246"},"modified":"2018-08-30T06:41:15","modified_gmt":"2018-08-30T13:41:15","slug":"wallace-stevens-the-house-was-quiet-and-the-world-was-calm-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/2018\/08\/30\/wallace-stevens-the-house-was-quiet-and-the-world-was-calm-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Wallace Stevens – The house was quiet and the world was calm"},"content":{"rendered":"

The house was quiet and the world was calm
\nby Wallace Stevens<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

The house was quiet and the world was calm.
\nThe reader became the book; and summer night<\/p>\n

Was like the conscious being of the book.
\nThe house was quiet and the world was calm.<\/p>\n

The words were spoken as if there was no book,
\nExcept that the reader leaned above the page,<\/p>\n

Wanted to lean, wanted much to be
\nThe scholar to whom his book is true, to whom<\/p>\n

The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
\nThe house was quiet because it had to be.<\/p>\n

The quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind:
\nThe access of perfection to the page.<\/p>\n

And the world was calm. The truth in a calm world,
\nIn which there is no other meaning, itself<\/p>\n

Is calm, itself is summer and night, itself
\nIs the reader leaning late and reading there.<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/a> \u2014 from The Collected Poems of Wallace Stevens<\/a>, by Wallace Stevens<\/font><\/p>\n


\/ Image by AwakeNight<\/a> \/<\/em><\/font><\/p>\n

Can\u2019t you just feel the calm spreading out into the summer night? So quiet you hear the crackling of stillness like a whisper in the skull.<\/p>\n

I picture the poet in the 1950s, on a cool night after an overlong hot day, sitting in a wooden chair outside on his porch, a porchlight above his shoulder drawing moths, a book open in his lap, and all the night seems to be leaning in to read with him. He shifts his weight, the chair creaks, and all falls into silence again.<\/p>\n

Calm, quiet, meaning, mind\u2026<\/p>\n

One can say the poet is enjoying a sweet, timeless moment reading a book. Or it could be that he has been overtaken by communion with heaven and earth. The book is just an excuse to be there.<\/p>\n

This summer night, I hope you too have a sweet, timeless moment when the house is quiet and the world calm<\/p>\n

Sending much love!<\/p>\n


\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/a>Recommended Books: Wallace Stevens<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n\n

<\/p>\n

\n\n\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

<\/center>
\n<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
The Enlightened Heart: An Anthology of Sacred Poetry<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nThirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nThe Collected Poems of Wallace Stevens<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
\n\n
\n\"Wallace<\/a>\n<\/td>\n\nWallace Stevens<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n

US (1879 \u2013 1955) Timeline<\/a>
\nSecular or Eclectic<\/a><\/a>
\n<\/a><\/a><\/em>\n<\/td>\n

<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

More poetry by Wallace Stevens<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The house was quiet and the world was calm by Wallace Stevens The house was quiet and the world was calm. The reader became the book; and summer night Was like the conscious being of the book. The house was quiet and the world was calm. The words were spoken as if there was no […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[2203,1546,2204,2202,1548,804],"class_list":["post-6246","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-book","tag-calm","tag-porch","tag-reader","tag-summer-night","tag-wallace-stevens"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6246","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6246"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6246\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6248,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6246\/revisions\/6248"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6246"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6246"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6246"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}