Back to Fall 2024

Epistle to the Filmmaker Céline Sciamma

Talia Beckhardt | Poetry, Fall 2024

Forgive me. I’d hate to be in your place.

We're in the same place. Exactly the same place.

     — Marianne and Héloïse, Portrait of a Lady on Fire

 

You carve a holy circle

and we step inside. Marianne dives

 

into the gasping waves to rescue

her canvases, or to escape

 

the man striding the prow,

chin up, legs planted, or

 

to reach the rocky island

rising from the sea

 

like blood rushing

to her face, captured carefully

 

by your digital camera, your

inventions of light. If Eurydice

 

knows how the male 

gaze can kill you,

 

then your worlds are blissfully dark,

your shadows tightly threaded,

impenetrable. I want to lounge

in your silences,

 

lower my body

gently into them

 

like a cool lake. I am

strung up in the cat’s cradle

 

of your gazes — Héloïse says:

If you look at me, who do I look at?

 

And yes, this, too,

is a kind of looking, a kind


of being seen. I trace the shape

of your new collaboration, three women

 

side by side in a kitchen, and—

Oh. I should have known

 

what this poem was really about.

Marianne, Héloïse, Sophie,

 

model, maid, artist,

three women in a closed circle,

 

equal in these reversals,

firelight shivering, ecstatic,

 

between them. But the curtain

is always pierced; one morning

 

she walks downstairs and there is a man

at the table, flooded with sun, and his gaze

 

strips her to the bone. You are right

that a love is not less for ending, that

 

in equality, there is emancipation,

but I am still Marianne, jumping

 

without doubt, clinging to the wood, believing—

love always has a future.

______________________________________

Why is this piece your Trace Fossil?

“I wrote this poem in the spring of my first year of college for an ekphrastic poetry assignment in a workshop class. It stands as a marker in my memory as the first poem written after crossing a sort of barrier of understanding what it means to compose a poem — how to layer meanings and images to create a richly textured work. I was thinking a lot at this time about what it means to propose a new conceptualization of love, from the poetry of Sonnet L’Abbé to F. Douglas Brown, and Sciamma’s work provided an opportunity to consider this in relation to my own life. This poem also contains echoes of other traces in the fossil record: quotes from Sciamma are interspersed in italics, forming a foundation onto which I build my own interpretations of and connections to the films, like the cities on top of cities found in archaeological remnants.”

(Sciamma quotes sourced from Vox, IndieWire, The Guardian)

Talia Beckhardt is a Jewish and queer writer of poetry and short fiction. She is from Boston, Massachusetts and is currently an undergraduate student of English Language & Literature at Smith College. She can often be found reading overly complex, queer space operas or playing The Sims 4. Her main talent is knowing how most words are spelled.

Back to Fall 2024

Epistle to the Filmmaker Céline Sciamma

Talia Beckhardt | Poetry, Fall 2024

         Forgive me. I’d hate to be in your place.

         We're in the same place. Exactly the same place.

                 — Marianne and Héloïse, Portrait of a Lady on Fire

 

You carve a holy circle

and we step inside. Marianne dives

 

into the gasping waves to rescue

her canvases, or to escape

 

the man striding the prow,

chin up, legs planted, or

 

to reach the rocky island

rising from the sea

 

like blood rushing

to her face, captured carefully

 

by your digital camera, your

inventions of light. If Eurydice

 

knows how the male 

gaze can kill you,

 

then your worlds are blissfully dark,

your shadows tightly threaded,

impenetrable. I want to lounge

in your silences,

 

lower my body

gently into them

 

like a cool lake. I am

strung up in the cat’s cradle

 

of your gazes — Héloïse says:

If you look at me, who do I look at?

 

And yes, this, too,

is a kind of looking, a kind


of being seen. I trace the shape

of your new collaboration, three women

 

side by side in a kitchen, and—

Oh. I should have known

 

what this poem was really about.

Marianne, Héloïse, Sophie,

 

model, maid, artist,

three women in a closed circle,

 

equal in these reversals,

firelight shivering, ecstatic,

 

between them. But the curtain

is always pierced; one morning

 

she walks downstairs and there is a man

at the table, flooded with sun, and his gaze

 

strips her to the bone. You are right

that a love is not less for ending, that

 

in equality, there is emancipation,

but I am still Marianne, jumping

 

without doubt, clinging to the wood, believing—

love always has a future.

____________________________________________________________________

Why is this piece your Trace Fossil?

“I wrote this poem in the spring of my first year of college for an ekphrastic poetry assignment in a workshop class. It stands as a marker in my memory as the first poem written after crossing a sort of barrier of understanding what it means to compose a poem — how to layer meanings and images to create a richly textured work. I was thinking a lot at this time about what it means to propose a new conceptualization of love, from the poetry of Sonnet L’Abbé to F. Douglas Brown, and Sciamma’s work provided an opportunity to consider this in relation to my own life. This poem also contains echoes of other traces in the fossil record: quotes from Sciamma are interspersed in italics, forming a foundation onto which I build my own interpretations of and connections to the films, like the cities on top of cities found in archaeological remnants.”

(Sciamma quotes sourced from Vox, IndieWire, The Guardian)

Talia Beckhardt is a Jewish and queer writer of poetry and short fiction. She is from Boston, Massachusetts and is currently an undergraduate student of English Language & Literature at Smith College. She can often be found reading overly complex, queer space operas or playing The Sims 4. Her main talent is knowing how most words are spelled.