Here is a strange little coincidence that might not have been noticed before, assuming that few F1 fans are also deeply into poetry. A minor item on the Autosport site recounts how Esteban Gutierrez has been confirmed by ART Grand Prix as one of their drivers for the Formula 3 Euroseries this year. Hardly earth-shattering news, one might think, but it was that name, Gutierrez, that plucked an obscure chord in my memory.
Esteban Gutierrez
"Guiterriez, avid of speed and power," were the words that resonated through my mind - a line from a poem, that much I knew, but which one and by whom? It's that man Eliot, I thought; it sounds like him. And a few minutes on the net confirmed my suspicion. The line is from Animula, a poem that influenced my own writing way back in the mists of time. Here it is in full:
Animula
Issues from the hand of God, the simple soul,
To a flat world of changing lights and noise,
To light, dark, dry, damp, chilly or warm,
Moving between the legs of tables and of chairs
Rising or falling,
Grasping at kisses and toys,
Advancing boldly, sudden to take alarm,
Retreating to the corner of arm and knee,
Eager to be reassured, taking pleasure
In the fragrant brilliance of the Christmas tree
Pleasure in the wind, the sunlight and the sea,
Studies the sunlit pattern on the floor.
And running stays around a silver tag:
Confounds the actual and the fanciful,
Content with playing cards and kings and queens,
What the fairies do and what the servants say.
The heavy burden of the growing soul
Perplexes and offends more, day by day,
Week by week, offends and perplexes more.
With the imperatives of "so it seems"
And may and may not, desire and control.
The pain of living and the drug of dreams
Curl up the small soul in the window seat
Behind the Encyclopaedia Britannica.
Issues from the hand of time, the simple soul,
Irresolute and sefish, misshapen, lame
Unable to fare forward or retreat,
Fearing the warm reality, the offered good,
Denying the importunity of the blot,
Shadow of its own shadow, spectre of its own gloom,
Leaving disordered papers in a dusty room;
Living first in silence after the viaticum,
Pray for Guiterriez, avid of speed and power,
For Boudin, blown to pieces,
For this one, who made a great fortune
And that one who went his own way.
Pray for Floret by the boorhound slain between the yew trees,
Pray for us now and at the hour of our birth.
TS Eliot, 1928
I leave the interpretation of the poem to you but would point at the odd coincidence of the name, Guiterriez. Okay, the spelling is slightly different, but the intervening eighty years should allow us some leniency in our consideration of Eliot's vision. Was old Thomas Stearns unconsciously referring to the advent of a bright new star in the motor racing firmament in 2008?
And who is this Esteban Gutierrez anyway? Brief research reveals him to be Mexican, 17 years old and already the Formula BMW Europe Champion of 2008. That seems a pretty good omen for the future and it might just be that we shall be hearing more of this young hopeful in the years to come.
Oh, I admit that it's a stretch but imagine how good Eliot and myself will look if Esteban proves to be the Senna of tomorrow. And if he doesn't, who will remember a rather odd little blog post from the off season of years before? Although that line is somehow memorable, as evidenced by its echo produced by an article in Autosport.
"Pray for Guiterriez, avid of speed and power..."