Reflect

Reflect is one of those odd words in English that can have completely opposite meanings. Reflect as in a mirror which is instantaneous or Reflect as thinking about a subject deeply. I wondered whether there is a word which describes this state of affairs and lo and behold there is.

The dictionary meaning of the word contronym is ‘a word having two meanings that contradict one another.’ A contronym is also called a ‘Janus word’ or auto-antonym. It's a word that has contradictory (or reverse) meanings depending on the context.

For example, the word ‘transparent’ can mean either something that is invisible or obvious. Or ‘dust’ which can mean to remove as in dusting a shelf or to add as in dusting a cake.

My new printed Oxford English and my old Chambers dictionaries do not have definitions but the online Oxford does. OED's earliest evidence for contronym is from 1962 in the writing of J. Herring.

I’m going to have to choose which Reflect to look at and it’s going to be this one.

Whenever I think of poems or literature about looking back to reflect on things done or not done, then the following poem by William Wordsworth usually comes to mind. It’s generally known as 'Tintern Abbey' but I prefer the full title. This is the extract that does it for me.

Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour. July 13, 1798.

But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them,
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind
With tranquil restoration:—feelings too

Wordsworth claimed to have composed the poem entirely in his head, beginning it upon leaving Tintern and not jotting down so much as a line until he reached Bristol, by which time it had just reached mental completion.

Well, considering the poem is 160 lines (give or take) that’s pretty good going and I do wonder if anyone challenged him on this. Not to mention the fact that his rather talented sister, Dorothy, was walking with him.

I’ve just given myself 5 minutes to have a Reflect on times past. I don’t think that reflections such as these need to melancholic, indeed as Wordsworth says ‘sensations sweet’ can be the order of the day.

So, in my 5 minutes of time present there were memories of a phone call I didn’t make, the sheer joy of vomiting after a hard training run over sand dunes in Great Yarmouth, a railway journey along the west coast of Wales to Pwllheli, getting rid of my mortgage, a poetry event, friends.

I had to drag myself away from all that looking back to think about a poem to go with the thoughts. I think this will do the job and it sort of covers the same concerns as Tintern.

Maritime Museum, St Helier

I didn’t know that fathom
came from faedm,
a measure of outstretched arms
no longer than the arrow
which had stopped me
on a hot March day
as I wandered on my own
following signs
in a museum sort of way.
An arrow,
a wordvane dipped
in terms of the sea
and its turning turned
my day around
as back to the start
and a boy again
I mixed up sand and water
and launched my boat on the pond,
pushed on buttons I shouldn’t
and ran round corners to hide,
let fingers brush the rich black tar
in timbers
that shivered my soul,
made up yarns for pictures
that soon became a scene
where a father
taught his son the knots
and splices of his skills,
around the tree and down the hole
the rabbit had tried and tried
but here,
I can’t believe it,
the bowline came first time
and for a time
I felt a smile but with
Force 2, precipitation,
that brought me back
to the forenoon watch
and ready to run ashore
not sure
I’d play the boy again
the hours for that have passed
but glad of a place
where the sea’s embrace
can be measured
in outstretched arms.

First published in Iota, March 2003.

Thanks for reading, Terry Q.