The Horse, the History Painting, and the Hound


        Now the hound's eyes are white.  The earth washes over his entire body, letting the dog sniff through his black nose for a moment, to smell nothing at all around him, to find out about his death, and to trust one final thing before sinking.  The yellow sky darkens as it rises to the top and side of the vertical canvas; gentle wind blows away the earth.  The sun above the dog has already disintegrated into ashes. 

        At the moment of clarity, the dog's mouth is closed.  The painting takes a devastating turn now.  Its composition and hue have conjured live burial, but that fear has become ancillary to a greater one - that we will discover before dying that we are truly alone.  Goya's
Perro Semihundido is a palindrome for Friedrich's Monk by the Sea.  This dog knows not to yearn for its master - not to yearn, that is, for us.  Dogs only lift their noses for wind and for people, a fact which gives our human absence a special meaning in this picture.  To apprehend the hound's silence is to know the pain the monk would feel if God were to witness His own death.

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