Not another fairy tale
Beryl Clarke, Contributor

This week we again discuss a poem. Make no mistake, there is much value in this one for us all. Once Upon A Time by Gabriel Okara has a simple and catchy title but it does not deal with a fairy tale. Fairy tale? Yes, do not tell me that you have forgotten those stories you read or heard that began with those words! How many of them do you now take seriously?

I wonder if you are wondering at the poet's reason for giving this title to his work. Does he wish to use this as a way of attracting the attention of readers, or is it that he does not want us to take the subject he shares as something important and sincere? Let's read it now and later you can decide.

The Nigerian writer of the poem captures a human dilemma, one that faces many a person. Here we have a black writer and this, therefore, raises the idea of racism. Mark you, it does not have to be so for hypocrisy exists everywhere and among people of all classes, colours and beliefs.

Every time I read this poem I cannot help but agree with the views expressed by the poet. You must agree that it is a fitting choice to follow the novel on which we just worked, for this poem deals with human relationships. The speaker is talking to his son and he reveals how his interaction with others has changed. He used to be open and honest with those to whom he spoke or entertained or visited. When he realised that they did not really mean what they said to him or truly enjoy his company, he began to act just like his 'friends'. He is not, however, satisfied to live in this way and desperately wants his son to help him regain his lost innocence.

Okara's speaker presents his reality in stages, beginning happily enough. The feeling does not last long, not even for a whole stanza. By the fourth line, the laughter of his friends no longer comes from the heart. Do you understand what this is telling us? The heart which holds genuine emotions does not figure in the relationship any more. It is replaced by the grinning/smiling teeth, the outward show that hides the real self. That is not all. While the teeth, hard and cold, bar entry to information, the eyes also refuse to tell him anything, for unlike the normal expectation of admitting him to inner knowledge (eyes being the windows to the soul), they are described as being hard and cold, just like the teeth. True intimacy is thereby denied him.

In our next lesson we will continue to explore this poem. Please take all the time you want to familiarise yourselves with its content. You will be richly rewarded. Until then, make every minute of your lives count for something good, and God bless!

Once Upon a Time
by Gabriel Okara

Once upon a time, son,
they used to laugh with their hearts
and laugh with their eyes;
but now they only laugh with their teeth,
while their ice-block-cold eyes
search behind my shadow.
There was a time indeed
they used to shake hands with their hearts:
but that's gone, son.
Now they shake hands without hearts:
while their left hands search
my empty pockets.
'Feel at home'! 'Come again';
they say, and when I come
again and feel
at home, once, twice,
there will be no thrice -
for then I find doors shut on me.
So I have learned many things, son.
I have learned to wear many faces
like dresses - homeface,
officeface, streetface, hostface,
cocktailface, with all their conforming smiles
like a fixed portrait smile.

And I have learned too
to laugh with only my teeth
and shake hands without my heart.
I have also learned to say, 'Goodbye',
when I mean 'Good-riddance';
to say 'Glad to meet you',
without being glad; and to say 'It's been
nice talking to you', after being bored.
But believe me, son.
I want to be what I used to be
when I was like you. I want
to unlearn all these muting things.
Most of all, I want to relearn
how to laugh, for my laugh in the mirror
shows only my teeth like a snake's bare fangs!
So show me, son,
how to laugh; show me how
I used to laugh and smile
once upon a time when I was like you.

Beryl Clarke is an independent contributor. Send questions and comments to kerry-ann.hepburn@gleanerjm.com