Caprichos, The

Hudson Review, The, Winter 2005 by Simpson, Louis

With a needle

on a metal plate

Goya etches a man

who has been garroted

by the Spanish Inquisition.

The left leg is relaxed,

the right as stiff as a board,

the big toe sticking out at an angle.

It's better than being hanged,

Goya says. I shall try to believe it.

Ah, the witches,

the old ones, and the young,

voluptuously naked,

learning to ride a broom.

Would you like to see

an enormous laughing woman

with dropsy? Or the cannibals?

One has cut off a man's hand,

and his head,

and is dancing with them.

Goya paints what he sees.

He doesn't believe in God.

Bandits have captured a wagon

and are killing the occupants.

One is on his knees, begging them

to spare his life. Fat chance!

A woman who was raped is now

being stabbed. Her mouth is

wide open, emitting

horrible sounds.

Another of the women

is surpassingly beautiful.

She is being stripped naked.

She turns her face aside,

ashamed of her body,

of what it will do to her.

Goya paints the truth,

what simply and directly is.

The father of Saint Anthony of Padua

was said to have murdered a man

in Lisbon. The Saint was transported

directly to Lisbon.

There were two witnesses,

men who had seen the murder.

They had since died,

but Anthony raised these dead,

took them to court,

and had them state before judges

whether his father was guilty.

They said he was not.

Anthony's father was set free,

and the dead returned to their graves.

Goya painted the angels

flying about in the Church

of Saint Anthony of Padua.

Are angels male or female?

Hard to say. They are attractive.

There is a flutter of angels

looking down in the dome,

pointing out things to one another.

A shawl of a striking color . . .

"Let me see, I hadn't noticed,"

one says. She looks sixteen.

This angel was painted by Goya

who doesn't believe in God.