3 4 10 13 14 16 18 19 21 23 24 26 27 r table of contents ARKAI Winter 1970 -71 of pirithous william roen the commons at late evening randy just the sundial john engman writer's crab margit livingston a kiss in monsoon john mitchell fox fire john mitchell the waning war of wally n. wallace nelson... Show more3 4 10 13 14 16 18 19 21 23 24 26 27 r table of contents ARKAI Winter 1970 -71 of pirithous william roen the commons at late evening randy just the sundial john engman writer's crab margit livingston a kiss in monsoon john mitchell fox fire john mitchell the waning war of wally n. wallace nelson son john engman an eat shop fable margit livingston the common man syl jones news from Chicago john mitchell the last things william roen nickel's sally carlson thinking of swansea john engman augsburg via moorhead patricia rockswold song of the reaper william roen new year's resolutions syl jones Lopxrignt Hugsuung College 1970. All Rights Reserved. Show less
staff editor editorial board assistant editor contributing layout editor reader photographs drawings faculty advisor william roen lorraine k. livingston, f. mark davis, boyd n. koehler, david c. wood, sally carlson, anne marie erickson, patricia rockswold, sylvester jones jr., wallace nelson... Show morestaff editor editorial board assistant editor contributing layout editor reader photographs drawings faculty advisor william roen lorraine k. livingston, f. mark davis, boyd n. koehler, david c. wood, sally carlson, anne marie erickson, patricia rockswold, sylvester jones jr., wallace nelson margit livingston anne marie erickson karen sandness tom peterson ann bugbee lorraine k. livingston ARKAI is published by the students of Augsburg College, Minneapolis, Minnesota, with the aid of the George Sverdrup Library and the Department of English. Show less
7““... - m :g‘a Amide 3:2: _ i555 932—45... .; A .—:w 1i? -_Ta_-—ga-’ 4;“.éiir-R‘EM a ‘ #4327111“: 1-: 0f Pirithous Leigh stood with the rope in his hands watching the centaur weave through the frightened cattle. Amber curls framed the heroic face; gray eyes flasneo diSdain at «are man, and on... Show more7““... - m :g‘a Amide 3:2: _ i555 932—45... .; A .—:w 1i? -_Ta_-—ga-’ 4;“.éiir-R‘EM a ‘ #4327111“: 1-: 0f Pirithous Leigh stood with the rope in his hands watching the centaur weave through the frightened cattle. Amber curls framed the heroic face; gray eyes flasneo diSdain at «are man, and on the regular features was stamped a smile of animal goou numor and unhidden vanity. Leigh had long been convinced that his father had leaped equestrian from an antique frieze although it was past his boyisn understanding why the centaur had sprung from marble to beget him. Because his hair was straight as a horse's mane, because his eyes were in- visible, and because his complexion was an unbecoming gray, the boy was forced to bear a constant and inevitably un- favorable comparison. And Leigh sus- pected that all unimpressive sons of awesone fathers learn to hate their beauty as he did---a beauty obtained without making any treaty with unmanli- ness. Leigh 5 father was an allegory of active life; he was strong and come- ly and Sybaritic. He was Homeric. Yet he was a gentle man; he was seldom vio- lent and forever indulgent. Leigh stood with the rope in his hands and gazed at the centaur from be- tween the two great square posts that his grandfather had set sixty years be- fore; they were bottomland elm, cut and shaped by hand, and still bore the marks of the adze. From the ground to the height of a man, the gray wood was stained brown. Two pipes--one station- ary and the other hinged to a concrete piling-~stood between the posts at the end of a long and narrow chute. When Leigh's father drove the calf to the end of the chute,as it pushed its head between the pipes, the rope which the boy now held was drawn taut, and the pipes, like the hind leg of a cricket, closed on the animal's neck, neatly accomplishing tne capture. Leigh had great admiration for the efficacy of William Roen the operation, for he believed that there was sane grace in an unpleasant task if it were artfully done. The boy was fastidiously arranging and rearranging his hold on the rope when he heard his father's voice. "Pull!" he screamed. As Leigh pulled up tight, the cap- tured animal fought against the trap. “The iron.“ Leigh ran to the fire and drew out the not branding iron. The sun was ris- ing in the sky, and the heat of the fire made him feel faint. His father neld the iron against the calf's flank until they smelled flesh burning. When the uoy had returned the iron to the fire, he drew the terrible contraption from a pail of lye water. Its two blades formed a diamond-shaped opening in which the horn was fitted, and long handles closed the opening,scissorlike, cutting the horn neatly from the skull. From two veins cut in the operation, streans of blood gushed, giving the beast a chimerical appearance. It was imperative to free the animal quickly because the pain and fright caused co- pious bleeding. The boy fumbled with the knot, wnich was slippery with gore, as a warm stream struck his forehead and the blood ran down into his eyes. His father roughly pushed him aside. Although beast after beast laved the Show less
gray elm posts with blood, Leigh now could not hear the helpless bellowing or see the enraged struggle of the tor- tured animals; dunbly and blindly he obeyed. His father's face, as he com- manded the boy to pull and called for tne iron, had long been empty of ex- pression. Although he was a... Show moregray elm posts with blood, Leigh now could not hear the helpless bellowing or see the enraged struggle of the tor- tured animals; dunbly and blindly he obeyed. His father's face, as he com- manded the boy to pull and called for tne iron, had long been empty of ex- pression. Although he was a gentle man, he was a man of reason and not of feel- ing. The wind changed direction, blow- ing tne smoke from tne fire over them; and the stench. the bl00d and the smoke permitted Leigh to imagine the battle of the centaurs and the Lapithae for tne bride of Pirithous. Leigh pulled, and this calf was snared like the others. Like the others. when the horns were cut off 'neatly from the skull, it struggled in pain and fury, but then suddenly the rope slipped. And as the animal leaped and fell. its legs became entangled in the rough planks of the chute, and its neck wedged in the knee of the cricket; it was strangling. The flow of blood became a torrent. As Leigh‘s father fiercely beat the animal, blue veins standing out on his marble forehead, his eyes were fixed on the hatchet that was buried in a plank of the chute. Leigh's father was a gentle man, a kind man; and yet he pulled the hatchet out and, bending over the gasping animal, shattered the skull behind the left eye. Perhaps the beast was dying in great pain, or perhaps, because the heat was so fierce, reason had withered and something ugly grew in its place. but. as the corpse twitched and writh- ed. to the tall, heroic-looking shape, the look of elegant quietude returned. Altnough the fire went out and the centaurmachy ceased, Leigh sat along between the great square posts with the bleeding head cradled in his arms. He wept for the cruelty of beauty and the right of beauty to be cruel. He wept because there is no truth but decay, because beautiful, heroic life is only the distance between two putrefactions. The blood ran down his arms, dried, and turned brown. The Commons at late Evening Taoles, Each square With slender black limbs And walnut faces Hitn wooden expressions. Chairs, bark, austere, and formal With perfect posture Lontemplating one another In suspended conversation. Salt and pepper sentries, Square-shouldered, steel-helmeted; Buckingham guards, Silhouetted atop each table. Gloves Weathered brown leather Lying like limp hands. A purse - collapsed; A deflated lung With no impulse to breath. A whispered conversation LiSps through the air... uies at the ear. A napkin Bearing an orange-red medal Wounded by tomato sauce, Crumpled and asleep. Christmas bells 0f ruffled white paper, Hanging from the ceiling, Ringing tidings of mute joy. Laughter of departing couples Lightly sails the air And softly sinks down the steps. The glossy, upright walnut piano Slumbers against the brown brick wall. A potted palm, Leaves despondently drooping, Siestas in a shadow. From without- In the crisp Christmas air—- Strains of "Silent Night" Sparkle on the horizons of hearing... Randy Just Show less
