In her latest poem, “Phoenician,” Angela Leighton delves into the haunting themes of sacrifice, memory, and the passage of time. The poem opens with a vivid image of children at play, constructing ephemeral sandcastles along the shore. This innocent act of creation is juxtaposed with the grim reality of their fate, as the poem hints at the historical practice of child sacrifice in ancient Phoenician culture.
The children, described as “unwise” and “wondering,” are engaged in a futile endeavor, building structures that will inevitably be destroyed by the tide. This imagery serves as a metaphor for the fleeting nature of life and the inevitability of loss. The line “Nothing of them will remain to meet the new day” underscores the tragic reality that their lives, like the sandcastles, are temporary and vulnerable.
As the poem progresses, the perspective shifts to “we who are old,” who gaze out at the horizon where “black sails” appear. These sails evoke a sense of foreboding, calling to mind the ancient legends of Theseus and the sacrifices made in the name of gods. The reference to “black sails” also resonates with contemporary imagery, as luxury yachts adorned with such sails are now a common sight on the seas, symbolizing both wealth and the passage of time.
Leighton introduces the concept of the “grinning mask,” a powerful symbol that encapsulates the poem’s exploration of hidden anguish. The mask, found in the Tophet of Motya, a burial site for sacrificed children, serves as a chilling reminder of the lengths to which parents may have gone to shield their suffering from the divine. The mask’s “grimace or smile” reflects the duality of human emotion, suggesting that beneath the facade lies a deeper horror.
The poem’s exploration of the mask extends beyond its historical context, inviting readers to consider the masks we wear in contemporary society. The “crazed rictus of a grin” becomes a metaphor for the ways in which we conceal our true feelings, particularly in the face of tragedy. Leighton writes, “that hard laughter, baked to last,” suggesting that the masks we create to protect ourselves may ultimately become permanent fixtures in our lives.
As the poem unfolds, it weaves together various timelines, moving from the innocence of childhood to the somber realities of adulthood. The reference to “each terracotta, twice fired to save its face” serves as a poignant reminder of the enduring nature of artifacts, contrasting sharply with the ephemeral lives of the children. This idea of preservation raises questions about what we choose to remember and what we allow to fade into obscurity.
Leighton’s use of language is particularly striking as she navigates the complexities of history and memory. The poem’s structure, with its 14 couplets, mirrors the themes of duality and contrast present throughout. The interplay between the past and present is further emphasized by the mention of the alphabet, tracing its origins from the Phoenician script to contemporary language. This connection serves as a reminder that our history is inextricably linked to our present, and the lessons of the past continue to resonate.
The line “the drones we make explode elsewhere in fires” introduces a contemporary dimension to the poem, linking the historical practice of sacrifice to modern warfare. The term “collateral” becomes a chilling euphemism for the lives lost in conflict, drawing a parallel between ancient rituals and contemporary violence. Leighton challenges readers to confront the uncomfortable truth that the sacrifices made in the name of progress often come at a devastating cost.
As the poem reaches its conclusion, the haunting refrain of “So many children … their lives” lingers in the air, evoking a sense of sorrow and reflection. The imperative “listen” invites readers to engage with the voices of the past, urging us to consider the implications of our actions and the legacies we leave behind. The ambiguity of laughter—whether it is the laughter of the children or a sardonic response to our limited empathy—adds depth to the poem’s exploration of human experience.
In “Phoenician,” Angela Leighton masterfully intertwines themes of sacrifice, memory, and the passage of time, creating a poignant reflection on the complexities of human existence. The poem serves as a powerful reminder of the fragility of life and the enduring impact of our choices, urging us to confront the masks we wear and the histories we inherit.
Source: The Guardian
