The balance of love
“Something in him so loves the world that he gives himself to the laws of gravity and chance. Far from flying with the angels, he traces with the fidelity of a seismograph needle the state of the solid bloody landscape. His house is dangerous and finite, but he is at home in the world. He can love the shapes of human beings, the fine and twisted shapes of the heart. It is good to have among us such men, such balancing monsters of love.”
Leonard Cohen salutes the particularity of saints in the passage above; to me it speaks particularly of Mercury, and of puppets, and of Istvan the puppeteer, especially as his character returns, revolves, evolves, in THE MERCURY WALTZ.
To continue to investigate, to plumb and parse the tricky, humorous, amorous, cloven and singular state of that character, that saintly monster of love and of play, was play, for me, of a very joyful order, a joy I hope translates to the reader when that play is mounted and the story is read. Not everyone will find that story speaks to her, to him, of course, and that’s as it should be: not every god – or monster – appeals to every ear. But for those who hear what this story has to say, welcome to the balance! Or welcome back.