Last night I was in the Kingdom of Shadows. If you only knew how strange it is to be there. It is a world without sound, without colour … It is not life but its shadow, it is not motion but its soundless spectre.
MAXIM GORKY ON FIRST SEEING A MOVING PICTURE
Sound is superfluous in
death’s realm, in
faded prints.
Narrative lost, morbid
radiance,
shimmering
liquid tremor. They shudder
and blur, shift and
bulge as in
a funhouse mirror. Scuffed
snapshots of
reality passing,
most beautiful when
their strength is least
assured.
These shadows posturing
resemble dimly,
dimly recall
the duration of
bodies,
the ancient forms
at 18 frames a second?
Is life only a question
of speed?