When
Dante Gabriel Rossetti acquired a wombat (circa 1869), his sister Christina was
amongst the most enraptured Londoners in her response to the Antipodean
creature. As usual with Christina, she immediately penned an Effusion, others would
say an Ode, this time in Italian. All good odes open with an O. “O Uommibatto,”
she exclaims, “Agil, giocondo, / Che ti sei fatto/ Irsuto e tondo!” Let’s
unpack that. Her impression is spontaneous (D.G. himself said she was the more
spontaneous poet), espying how the wombat is agile and carefree. One biographer,
Mary Sandars (1930), translates ‘giocondo’ as frisky, which I suggest she’s
used to rhyme with tricksy, however ‘giocondo’ comes closest to joyous, Betty
Flowers’ word in the Penguin Complete Poems (2003). Fans of Leonardo da Vinci will
notice the connection with his most famous portrait, and who is to say
Christina does not have La Gioconda in mind upon meeting this mysterious and
happy being? How you have grown hairy and round, is the gist of the next line,
as one would but wonder who had never before seen such a creature. The
addressee, Uommibatto, is a most curious coinage to anyone halfway familiar
(like me) with Christina’s writings, strikingly using the word for man (uomo)
in connection with bumping or beating (battere), conjuring a picture of
boisterous liveliness. D.G.’s frontispiece to her extraordinary poem ‘Goblin
Market’ features a wombat, amongst other creatures, while one of the goblins in
the story is likened to a wombat. The main rhyme thread is
giocondo-tondo-vagabondo-mondo-pondo, which is worth pondering when we notice
how the second half of the poem shifts, via these rhymes, from lightness to
heaviness, from initial delight at the vision glorious to the weighty meaning
of the wombat’s very existence. Because Christina knows what they all know,
this being, “hairy and round”, came from the other side of the world, down under.
Sandars translates, “Pray run not from us/ A vagrant wild,/ Pray do not vanish”,
expression of a fear of loss, even perhaps the death of the wombat far from
home. “Deh non fuggire/ Qual vagabondo,/ Non disparire/ Fornado il mondo,” this
last phrase “piercing the globe” thinks Sandars, while Flowers sees that
Christina is talking about burrowing. For burrowing is, as every Australian
knows, a basic characteristic of wombats, though the poet is not just thinking
about digging. How do we imagine the world? “Pesa davvero/ D’un emisfero/ Non lieve
il pondo,” she concludes, this creature embodying the reality of our
hemispherical planet, grace and then gravity. The lines are almost untranslatable.
Sandars goes, “the weight ‘tis clear/ Cannot be told.” Flowers too bumbles about,
close to the gist, saying: “It’s really the weight of/ a hemisphere/ Not a light
burden.” How do we imagine the world?
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