Epic Poem, Tribute to Star Wars

George Lucas's Star Wars saga is synonymous to American pop-culture, and the franchise has become a phenomena to American consumers.  The first three of the series opened with positive raves from audiences nationwide—massive marketing campaigns filled the shelves at toy stores, and movie-goers stood in line to take a first glimpse of the film.  Decades later, audiences camped outside the theater overnight in viewing this prequel as Lucas has returned—with their blankets, sleeping bags, and pillows in tow.  Now we have reached til the end of the saga.  The Last Jedi has the original Luke Skywalker (acted by Mark Hamill) return to the series in its final installation.  (Congratulations to Hamill for his Hollywood's Walk of Fame for his iconic role in the series!)

Not to spoil the movie, but I immediately thought of Benjamin West's The Death of General Wolfe, 1770 neoclassical painting from an American-born painter, a rare at this day and age or prior.  Neoclassical paintings are imbued with moral sentiments as virtues are instilled and dispersed in our society— common social values which link us all together.  The painting depicts a British general, Wolfe during his battle and at his death after the British won the battle of control on Canada.  General Wolfe is a martyr, comparable to Jesus (dying Jesus in lamentation and crucifixion), slumping in a diagonal line, showcasing movement, contrasting to an immobility in the vertical lines.  Neoclassical idea of patriotism imbues strongly in the painting.  Wolfe dies for a cause.  West's painting is emotional:  the dramatic sky casts a stormy front with a strong contrast of light and darkness.        

Charge onwards with me in this intrepid fanfare,

Surge ahead, together with the cadre of the mightiest force,

United, détente, by means of bringing balance to figure,

Set freedom to the universe imprisoned from the Dark Force,

 

 

Charge ahead at the forefront of the revolting waged war,

Men guard the fort of villagers in their palaver,

Allied soldiers, trained tip-top, fight troopers and their armed guns,

Cut a swath through the legion of the dark bastion,

 

 

Fleet scuds across the horizon, next, sheers concave like lunar,

Waltzing light-speed across the galactic universe,

Dashing out of the laser beam in warfare,

The cadre spars his opponent, lest cut a master stroke,

 

 

Reclaim the rights of the People before the war,

And awaken the inner power of dwellers, of neighbors,

Fortified hold of mastery of what one is borne,

After we say prayer to those who served other men,

New day begins near the light, a cluster of stars.