Tea at the Palaz of Hoon
March 7, 2012 § Leave a comment
The western day through what you called
The loneliest air, not less was I myself.
What was the ointment sprinkled on my beard?
What were they hymns that buzzed beside my ears?
What was the sea whose tide swept through me there?
Out of my mind the golden ointment rained,
And my ears made the blowing hymns they heard.
I was myself the compass of that sea:
I was the world in which I walked, and what I saw
Or heard or felt came not but from myself;
And there I found myself more truly and more strange.
– Wallace Stevens
Tea places the scene in Asia. Tea leaves are endemic to that continent, and they relate to calmness and meditation which one associates with Eastern religions.
The palaz is a palace. It seems that Stevens is rejecting more popular religious beliefs, the hymns and anointments of Christianity, for instance, for a solipsistic approach to spirituality (“I was the world in which I walked…”) in which he builds his own spiritual structure.
Hoon sounds like a vaguely Eastern deity or philosopher, and there is the sense of Stevens tapping into the Tao as he navigates his noösphere (“and there I found myself truly and more strange”).