Unveiling the Illusion of Distance

In the sixth line of "View," Bell's narrator unveils a startling revelation: the trees that appear to divide the observer from the vast sea are themselves crafted from the very essence of water. Furthermore, he asserts that the expanse separating them is similarly composed of water. This imagery brings forth a profound philosophical quandary: by highlighting the shared watery essence of the person and the ocean, along with the air that mingles between, Bell provocatively questions the very existence of distance. Traditionally, we perceive separation through the lens of space, yet this poem daringly dissolves such divisions, suggesting that all physical matter is interconnected. The void between objects is not an absence but is instead woven from the same material that forms the objects themselves, thereby uniting them.

The Illusion of Separation

This intriguing concept is further unraveled in line 18. After portraying the space between entities as fashioned from water, the poem evocatively describes this divide as "the ocean between us." This resonates with the depicted scene of individuals arrayed along Sag Harbor, their gazes fixed upon the sea. The narrator observes that this ocean creates a mere semblance of distance. The suggestion is clear: they are not truly separated by an ocean; the space between them is but a deceptive illusion. The poem continues this exploration in lines 24 to 27, where the chasm separating Europe and America is imagined away. Those peering across the watery expanse, or through the aqueous medium that fills the air, can "see" across 3,400 miles. By emphasizing the power of imagination, Bell further dissolves the notion of space, transforming distance from mere water into a construct of the mind itself.

"View" calls into question the myriad ways in which people interpret the world around them. The astonishing truth that trees are predominantly composed of water isn't a mere figment of imagination, but rather a stark reminder of a straightforward botanical reality. In a similar vein, the assertion that "the distance… [is] mainly water" holds true, especially when one considers the moisture-laden air that occupies that space. It beckons us to perceive the world as an unbroken expanse of water, stretching beyond the vast oceans and seas, permeating both the land and sky.

Perception and Reality

Another intriguing theme woven into the poem is that of perception, highlighted in lines 14-15: "You think you can't see the current war and don't want to, but / the war is in the trees." Traditionally, war has been envisaged as a sequence of clashes between distinct armies, occurring in specific locales and times. For Americans, since the end of the Civil War in 1865, conflicts have been distant affairs, relayed through news bulletins from far-flung lands. However, the shattering events of September 11, 2001, have irrevocably altered this perception.

Since that day, Americans grapple with the unsettling realization that "war" isn't just a distant echo but a presence woven into the very fabric of their surroundings—pervasive as the trees themselves, and as methodical in its unfolding as the cycles of nature.

This poem serves not so much as a direct response to a particular conflict, but rather as a poignant reflection on how Americans envisage the concept of warfare in the twenty-first century. The concluding lines delve into the tangled nature of this perception, highlighting a battlefield where "only civilians" remain visible. In this landscape, the elusive enemy "has / melted away," leaving us grappling with uncertainty about both who the adversary might be and where the threat lies. This notion does not suggest a world devoid of peril; instead, it evokes an image of an ever-present, diffuse...