Fearful Symmetry -- by Jane Kelley

 

 

 

When we were asked to blog about Symmetry, I thought of this poem by William Blake. (The image above is a copy of Blake's original printing of The Tyger from 1794.)

 

I knew of the poem. I hadn't really thought about what it meant. 

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
 

In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat.
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

What immortal hand? The young me thought that an immortal hand or eye had to belong to a Supreme Being.  As I got closer to the end of my own mortality -- I started hoping that creating could make us immortal.

So, yay, authors -- right?

Not so fast. The poem has its own symmetry. The last stanza almost mirrors the first. Only this time the question isn't who could create but rather who dares to create.

What the hammer? What the furnace? What dread grasp dares to clasp? What the hand dare seize the fire?

So, look out, authors -- right?

Creating is powerful stuff. Especially if you're bringing to life a tiger with fiery eyes, lurking in the dark forest. 

And why is symmetry fearful? Let me know if you have thoughts about that. I'm still pondering. 

Jane Kelley is the author of many middle grade novels. None contain any actual tigers -- just ordinary predators like hawks, cats, and an occasional bully.