Threnody for Camille

Camille Claudel, Clotho (1893), ensnared in her own hair

Κλωθώ speaks:

No contrapuntal selves renew

Souls spun here on my throne of stone,

Warping, beastly Death deceiving.

Lachesis, measuring the thread,

Atropos, jotting down what's read,

They'd be lost without my weaving

Designer winding sheets concealing

Shrouds for ghosts, prêt-à-porter.

Remember Camille Claudel today,

Who once saw Clotho's image near,

Caught in the toils of her own hair.

She was, alas, locked up as mad,

Art done down to raze the dead,

With lies by monied envy spread.

Statue of the ancient Greek fate Clotho in Druid Ridge Cemetery, near Baltimore, Maryland. Photograph by Sam Lehman. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/en:Creative_Commons.

Camille in the 1890s. The Camille Claudel Museum in Nogent-sur-Seine opened in 2017.

Wednesday, September 24, 2025