The Window

I was speaking yesterday of the Pope's dignity in the face of death.  I was speaking of the eloquence of his communication in the absence of speech.  I alluded (through the link to a NYT Week In Review piece on Sunday) to the possible irony -- given the Schiavo case -- of Karol Wojtyla going on a feeding tube.  And, simply as metaphor, I spoke of the Pope having a window right now to provide us something vital.

As dedicated as I am to the analysis of news photos, I don't think this image gracing today's newswire begs much interpretation.  I just find it moving.  The eyes seeking our eyes just inside the shadow.  The partial face, set in unending blackness, barely holding its own above the otherwise-wordly rich crimson bunting.  And that curtain.  So white, and so receptive to the breeze.  Like someone ready to set sail. 

(image /Pier Paolo Cito/AP in YahooNews)

Comments

[kali yuga]

The dying dream of buggering little boys . . .

[Johanna]

I see in this picture the end of the life cycle.

I see a man who could do anything - once so physically powerful, who overcame much in is life - to a man now almost childlike in the window. I say almost, because his eyes have not yet given up.

I have been thinking of the Pope's illness. Thinking how this has brought him back to a place of incredible humility, he becomes as one of us, powerless over physical death, surrendered, childlike.

I see a man, looking out, taking in as much as he can, the last looks of one who has had so very much here on this earth...

[aethorian]

The curtain across the fourth wall has been opened, but which side of the proscenium arch are we on?

[jillian]

It is a haunting photo. The Pope is setting sail to his next destination.

[kali yuga]

Bon Voyage, Pope.

Hopefully starfruit is legal in heaven.

[The BAG]

aethorian,
The "curtain" with the bird passing by is a wonderful image. I like the counterpoint it offers to the Vatican scene. In contrast to the foregone Shiavo situation, I sense real vitality in "the Pope's window." I think the period presaging death -- if one is aware, and truly conscious of the "stage" -- can be ultimately affirming. I know we don't talk about these things much in our culture, so we hardly appreciate it, let alone have language for it. Still, what else can that moment be -- if one has lived fully and well -- but a culmination? Of course, I'm in no hurry. But I so hope -- when the time comes -- I would go out with such eyes.