Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

What that Means to Me. What does it Mean to You?

I picked up this “used” book and before I even opened it, I was on another journey of deep thoughts…

Sometimes your thoughts can take you to unexpected places—I just had some deep thoughts that led me on the most wonderful winding path of discovery, and I’m writing about it here...

This is what happened:

This morning, I sat down with the latte my partner, R makes me each morning—and I picked up one of the books that I found at a wonderful (new to me) second-hand bookshop two days ago.*

(*the bookshop is Re: Reading in Toronto where I live—thank you to a new friend for leading me there— click HERE if you are in Toronto or could be and love books!)

I pictured the stack after stack of beautifully bound books—but then pulled my thoughts back to the one weighty book in my hands.

A collection of short stories by Dylan Thomas. And my next thought was—that all I know about Dylan Thomas is his poem about not going gently into the night.

And then I thought about how I don’t even know the poem in it’s entirety, just that one line—and so I searched for it. And I found it easily, it’s still that popular.

The first title and the first line Dylan Thomas wrote was in fact: Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night. And I realized all these years I had recalled it wrong—I recall it, quote it, this way: Do Not Go Gently into the Night.

And then I thought as I have so many times—what a powerful line that is, one that tugs at my heart. Doesn’t it make you want to stand and move toward something you need to face and to not go gentle— or as I recall it “gently”—but instead to go courageously, doing what we need to do, doing what is right for us—and others.

And then I looked back again at the line that he actually wrote and thought why would Dylan Thomas write Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night—what good night was he writing about?

And so I read the rest.

I pause here to say that I thought again about how I had to “translate” parts of what I read so that it doesn’t exclude me and others based on my/our gender (not man but person, etc.). Something I’ve had to do often over the years, and now still (I’ve been thinking I need to write about that—but for now, I pulled my deep thoughts back to the poem).

As I read it—I still felt the call to action, but starting with the second line I see something new for me, something that means alot to me in the here and now, in this stage of my life: “Old age should burn and rave at close of day”. How amazing is that! It seems to call upon those of us with experience and knowledge to use what we know, what we learn, what we have passion for! (When are you an elder?/something else to explore—but for now, once again, I pulled my deep thoughts back to the poem.)

I read on—and as I went further down on the page, some of it confused me. Why is there talk of death and tears? Is that the “that”? “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night”—death or the death of others?

And so to help me with my thinking, I went in search of what others say Dylan was writing about in this poem.

And what I found was that my interpretation all these years was not what others say about this piece. According to LitCharts (for example) the poem is: “dedicated to Thomas’s father… [t]he poem encourages the dying—the sick and the elderly—to fight bravely against death.”

I reread the poem. And then read it again. And I found that even with what others say about it, for me—the poem is not about the sick and elderly. Instead, I still experience it as encouraging us all to face our fears, to take action, make things right… For me, what the line (as I remembered it) has meant to me for so very very long—remains true—perhaps that’s why I recalled it with a variation.

I read more from LitCharts: “The poem also celebrates the vibrancy and energy of human life, even though life is fragile and short.” Closer, but still not what I feel—it’s not what it means to me.

My deep thoughts shift a little, and I’m thinking along a slightly different path—

I am reminded (as I’ve heard others say) that once a writer releases their writing into the world, or a painter releases a painting, or a sculptor unveils their sculpture…or a musician takes the stage and plays their song—what has been created is taken by their audience and filtered through their own personal lens, for better or for worse.

In the case of Dylan Thomas’ poem, for me, as I wrote above—it is a call to action for all of us to face darkness, to face difficult times, and to not go gently—but instead to go courageously doing what we need to do, doing what is right for us—and others.

AND when I read it today, it became even more personal, since I read it now as—a call to action to those of us with experience and knowledge—a call to use what we know, what we learn and have learned, and what we have passion for!

For you, Dylan Thomas’ poem may mean something else entirely. It may speak to you—or not. For you, it may not be these words that inspire you, but something else entirely—someone else’s words, someone else’s creation. Perhaps your own? We do create for ourselves as we create for others. Dylan Thomas did.

How beautiful is that!

My deep thoughts end here for now, and my writing about them.

Now, I’m going to go and finish my latte with my partner, R. We’ll sit and talk—and later walk awhile—the snow is softly falling. Who will we meet? And, what will all that inspire? At the very minimum, a sense of peace, I do believe. Or, perhaps we’ll need to face something, and be courageous—we are ready!

jw. December 20, 2024.
#nodayisjustanotherday
#notoneofusisjustordinary
#insupportofdeepthoughts
#insupportofcreating
#insupportofusingwhatwehavelearnedtomakeabetterworld

Here is the poem in it’s entirety:

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night
By Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise [people] at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good [people], the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild [people] who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave [people], near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my [parent], there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

(*Source with original credits found here: Poetry Foundation )