Response to Nick Carbó’s “I Found Orpheus Levitating”

I really enjoyed Nick Carbó’s approach in “I Found Orpheus Levitating,” specifically the way that he broke the fourth wall between the author and the character. Equally as engaging is the way that Carbó first convinces the reader that the narrator is actually in the story, but then reveals that the narrator is actually Carbó himself, who is engaged in a strange “cartoonist-cartoon” relationship where the author is in the poem, and the character begins to stare out of the page.

Carbó accomplished this relationship so well, in part, by the descriptions of Orpheus’s experiences with and reaction to Filipino culture. Interestingly, Carbó maintains the authority by the words he uses. In lines 5 and 6, Carbó “…dressed him/in an old barong tagalong and some black pants.” This implies that he did not give him clothes, or direct him towards his closet, but dressed him. Perhaps this is taking liberty with the words, but Carbó did choose dress. It demonstrates the ambiguity of the scene in that, yes, Carbó chose Orpheus’s actions and, yes, Carbó’s poetic self is in the poem giving Orpheus these clothes.

This strange set up where Carbó appears to be a character, but is really just a puppeteer can be extrapolated from almost every part of the poem. Lines 7 and 8 show another example of this: “Because he wanted new friends in a new land, I introduced /him to Kapitan Kidlat, out local comic book hero.” On an initial reading, it could easily be confused that Carbó is in the scene, performing a “Kapitan Kidlat, this is Orpheus. Orpheus, this is Kapitan Kidlat,” ritual. After a second reading, however, it is arguable that he means that he “cartooned” Kapitan Kidlat into the scene. The same goes when Carbó takes Orpheus to meet Malaka and Maganda, to eat Kamayan, and when they go to the Hobbit House.

When Orpheus finally discovers that Carbó is both in the poem and outside of it, looking in, he is confused. “No, No, I’m not in a movie,/I’m inside a fucking poem!/I can see the poet’s scrunched-up face on the other side/of the computer screen!” Now that the reader is aware of Carbó’s multiple presence, he must try to keep track of which of Carbó’s identities are performing each action. Orpheus is compelled to leave when Carbó asks him “if he understood/the concept of ‘the willing suspension of disbelief.’” This whole scene leaves the reader scratching his head and wondering, “What, exactly, just happened?” just as Nick Carbó intended.