“The Invention of the Saxophone”

Today is the birthday of Adolphe Sax

The Invention of the Saxophone

BY BILLY COLLINS

It was Adolphe Sax, remember,

not Saxo Grammaticus, who gets the ovation.

And by the time he had brought all the components

together–the serpentine shape, the single reed,

the fit of the fingers,

the upward tilt of the golden bell–

it was already 1842, and one gets the feeling

that it was also very late at night.

 

There is something nocturnal about the sound,

something literally horny,

as some may have noticed on that historic date

when the first odd notes wobbled out of his studio

into the small, darkened town,

 

summoning the insomniacs (who were up

waiting for the invention of jazz) to their windows,

but leaving the sleepers undisturbed,

evening deepening and warming the waters of their dreams.

 

For this is not the valved instrument of waking,

more the smoky voice of longing and loss,

the porpoise cry of the subconscious.

No one would ever think of blowing reveille

on a tenor without irony.

The men would only lie in their metal bunks,

fingers twined behind their heads,

afloat on pools of memory and desire.

 

And when the time has come to rouse the dead,

you will not see Gabriel clipping an alto

around his numinous neck.

 

An angel playing the world’s last song

on a glistening saxophone might be enough

to lift them back into the light of earth,

but really no further.

 

Once resurrected, they would only lie down

in the long cemetery grass

or lean alone against a lugubrious yew

and let the music do the ascending–

curling snakes charmed from their baskets–

while they wait for the shrill trumpet solo,

that will blow them all to kingdom come.